Two Heads: A Graphic Exploration of How Our Brains Work with Other Brains by Uta Frith, Chris Frith, and Alex Frith; Illustrations by Daniel Locke (Scribner). Oversized (a bit past 7” x 9” and about 300 pages) graphic nonfiction about the brain — and of course, the mind, and pointedly on how minds (two or more) work together with the tools and mechanics of language. So, certainly about more than the neurology of the matter. It’s smart and wonderfully clear, and witty — Daniel Locke’s drawings, too; they form a sort of comic strip, so even entertaining. But make no mistake, you can’t talk about the brain without talking about communication, and thus also about people and their minds. The first two of those Friths are neuroscientists, and wife-and-husband; the third is their son, a children’s book author, and their interrelated skills (well, and brains, right?) work beautifully together. You have to be interested in learning about this stuff, but if you are, you’ll enjoy firming up and enriching your sense of what’s going on between you and those around you — oh, and those around you among themselves, too. The Friths, the lot of them, are good company and good teachers.

Three Debts Paid: A Daniel Pitt Novel by Anne Perry (Ballantine). It’s April, so... here’s the fifth novel of this column-favorite series about the son of Anne Perry’s deeply established characters. Historical mysteries — early in the 20th century (1912, now). Very well made, “full-value” as the column is inclined to say, as mysteries, and also as historical novels. Here, we have what we’ve come to call a serial killer for Daniel to out-think, and with his fond friend Miriam fford Croft, now a forensic pathologist, to think with.

Blood Sugar by Sascha Rothchild (Putnam). Delightfully twisty; the quite likable central character here is accused of murdering her husband, but we know that she certainly didn’t. We know, too, however, that she has done away with three other people, over time, always for reasons that seemed entirely sufficient to her (and they pretty much seem, um, sort of understandable, to the reader, too). Nobody’s thought to bug her about those. But now, those earlier deaths, too, are beginning to pique people’s interest. Did I say, “twisty”? I did, and the twists keep coming.

The Kew Gardens Girls and The Kew Gardens Girls at War by Posy Lovell (Putnam) (trade paperback originals). This is not the Kew Gardens neighborhood in Queens, New York City; it’s the original, in London, which is actually “gardens,” a large park. And the War is World War I, so they are — the books are — historical novels, set in a real place, richly re-created for us, as women are replacing the men who have run it, who are now being called away to war (so they’re women’s friendship novels, too). The “at War” volume is new just now; the other one was published last year, when the column wasn’t looking, and is still widely available.