The Thursday Murder Club (Thursday Murder Club Series #1)

The Thursday Murder Club (Thursday Murder Club Series #1)

by Richard Osman

Narrated by Lesley Manville

Unabridged — 12 hours, 26 minutes

The Thursday Murder Club (Thursday Murder Club Series #1)

The Thursday Murder Club (Thursday Murder Club Series #1)

by Richard Osman

Narrated by Lesley Manville

Unabridged — 12 hours, 26 minutes

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Overview

Notes From Your Bookseller

Oh, the fun you’ll have at murder club. A mystery that’s cheeky and full of surprises while at the same time a loving tribute to getting older and the relationships we all form. After reading this, you’ll want to live in Coopers Chase retirement community solving cold cases with septuagenarians.

A New York Times bestseller | Soon to be a major motion picture from Steven Spielberg at Amblin Entertainment

¿Witty, endearing and greatly entertaining.¿ ¿Wall Street Journal
 
¿Don't trust anyone, including the four septuagenarian sleuths in Osman's own laugh-out-loud whodunit.¿ ¿Parade

Four septuagenarians with a few tricks up their sleeves
A female cop with her first big case
A brutal murder
Welcome to...
THE THURSDAY MURDER CLUB

In a peaceful retirement village, four unlikely friends meet weekly in the Jigsaw Room to discuss unsolved crimes; together they call themselves the Thursday Murder Club.

When a local developer is found dead with a mysterious photograph left next to the body, the Thursday Murder Club suddenly find themselves in the middle of their first live case.

As the bodies begin to pile up, can our unorthodox but brilliant gang catch the killer, before it's too late?

Editorial Reviews

OCTOBER 2020 - AudioFile

Four residents of the Coopers Chase retirement village meet regularly in this audiobook to try to solve cold cases until a real murder happens at the village. The septuagenarians then pit their detecting skills against those of the police. Narrator Leslie Manville captures the humor that arises organically from the very real characters she voices, making this audiobook fun to listen to. Listeners gain appreciation for the experiences of retirees as they face the deaths of their friends and family while continuing to keep active. As more bodies are added to the case, including a 50-year-old skeleton found in the Garden of Eternal Rest, Manville keeps listeners engaged. V.M.G. © AudioFile 2020, Portland, Maine

Publishers Weekly

★ 07/06/2020

British TV celebrity Osman mixes mirth and murder in his exceptional debut, a series launch featuring the four members of the Thursday Murder Club, residents of the Coopers Chase Retirement Village in Kent. Despite their different backgrounds, Elizabeth , Ibrahim, Joyce, and Ron share an interest in solving mysteries. When 26-year-old Donna De Freitas, a police constable who dreams of pursuing serial killers, visits the home to talk to the pensioners about “Practical Tips for Home Security,” the club members arrange for Donna to be assigned to a homicide case they have a connection to by manipulating her boss, so that they can get access to the investigation through a grateful Donna. That way they can take a crack at solving the bludgeoning murder of drug dealer Tony Curran, who operated a building business as a front, and whose killer left a photo of three men, one of whom is Ron’s son, near Curran’s corpse. They use their individual talents, including Joyce’s gift for gathering information unobtrusively, and Ibrahim’s medical knowledge, which enables him to narrow the timing of a second, related killing. Osman’s witty prose (labor activist Ron’s “picture was rarely in the papers without the caption ‘Talks between the two sides collapsed late last night’”) is a highlight. Fans of Lynne Truss’s Constable Twitten mysteries will be tickled. Agent: Juliet Mushens, Mushens Entertainment (U.K.). (Sept.)

From the Publisher

Praise for The Thursday Murder Club:

“Witty, endearing and greatly entertaining.”
—Wall Street Journal

“An amusing debut that finds gold in getting older.”
—People

“If you like a good mystery but also want to laugh and go 'aw,' the Thursday Murder Club books by Richard Osman are definitely for you.”
Daisy Rosario, NPR Pop Culture Happy Hour

“Don’t trust anyone, including the four septuagenarian sleuths in Osman’s own laugh-out-loud whodunit.”
Parade

“[A] jaunty mystery. . . What's delightful is that there are no stereotypes here — the senior citizens solve the murder with wit, style and ferocious intelligence. The puzzle is intricate and involving, but there's a breeziness about it that makes it an ideal hammock read.”
NPR

“Funny, clever, and compelling. Mystery fans are going to be enthralled.”
—Harlan Coben, #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Boy from the Woods

“A little beacon of pleasure in the midst of the gloom. . . SUCH FUN!”
—Kate Atkinson, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Big Sky

“The mystery’s good, the characters are wonderful, and [the series are] just very entertaining. . . top notch.”
—R.L. Stine, bestselling author of the Goosebumps series

“Charming, funny, and ultimately, surprisingly, very moving.”
—Linwood Barclay, New York Times bestselling author of Find You First

“I don’t know how to do this brilliant book justice. Diabolically clever, very funny, highly entertaining—utterly delightful.  I completely fell in love with it. I need more of The Thursday Murder Club!”
—Shari Lapena, New York Times bestselling author of The Couple Next Door

“Loved every word. Loved the fleet, nimble plotting, as ingenious as top-shelf Agatha Christie; loved the boisterous cast of characters—think Fredrik Backman; loved the crisp, witty, Carl Hiaasen-caliber dialogue... yet above all, I love The Thursday Murder Club for its psychological texture, emotional depth, and luminous, fireside warmth. What a generous novel. Readers of Louise Penny and Kate Atkinson, rejoice."
A. J. Finn, #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Woman in the Window


“Suspenseful, funny, and poignant. The delightful, spirited characters from this witty, sometimes bittersweet story deserve a return engagement.”
Booklist (starred review)

“An imaginative and witty whodunit… Osman’s careful attention to the realities of life in a retirement village ensures that The Thursday Murder Club is a compassionate, thoughtful tribute to a segment of the population that’s often dismissed and ignored… Great fun.” 
BookPage (starred review)

“The character-driven mystery, featuring a group of sleuths all too aware of their own mortality, and a likable pair of cops, is suspenseful, funny, and poignant… The delightful, spirited characters from this witty, sometimes bittersweet story deserve a return engagement.”
Library Journal (starred review)

“Osman mixes mirth and murder in his exceptional debut. . . witty.”
Publishers Weekly (starred review)

“A fascinating primer in detection… A top-class cozy infused with dry wit and charming characters who draw you in and leave you wanting more, please.”
Kirkus Reviews (starred review)

“A rather beguiling piece of work, reading like Kingsley Amis’s The Old Devils refracted through an Agatha Christie prism… The ageing protagonists are a winning bunch, and Osman’s skills have already led to greenlighting of further outings for his sleuths.”
Financial Times

“A sparkling debut… Fiendishly clever and brilliantly funny.”
Minneapolis Star Tribune

“Witty… The characters and the writing are a treat… Everyone in the central quartet, especially the two women, are more complex than they originally seem, and while the tone is predominantly light and funny, Osman finds some moments of sweet poignancy.”
Seattle Times

“With wry British humor, and a cast of intrepid retirees, Richard Osman’s delightful mystery caper offers surprising depth… The wit and the plot will bring readers back for more of this series.”
The Christian Science Monitor

“As the bodies pile up, and more is revealed of the lives and loves of Joyce, Ibrahim, Ron and Elizabeth, you can’t help cheering them on—and hoping to meet them again soon.”
The Times (UK)

“A witty and poignant tale.”
The Daily Telegraph (UK)

“One of the most enjoyable books of the year. . . well-written, hilarious, and joyously big-hearted. . . The charm of The Thursday Murder Club is that it's so much more than a crime novel.”
The Daily Express (UK)

“Brilliant, smart, charming, and wryly funny.”
Good Housekeeping (UK)

“So smart, so funny, so warm, and such a wonderful mystery. If we're lucky Richard Osman will keep these characters alive forever.”
—Caroline Kepnes, New York Times bestselling author of You

“So smart and funny. Deplorably good.”
—Ian Rankin, New York Times bestselling author of Westwind

“Grinning like a monkey having just finished The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman. Loved its clever, clever plot, great gags, Ealing comedy set ups and Elizabeth. Can’t say more but I want to be her one day…”
—Fiona Barton, New York Times bestselling author of The Widow

“A rich, textured, twisted, and fabulously funny tale of murder and mayhem.”
—Alan Bradley, New York Times bestselling author of The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie

“By turns hilarious and poignant, The Thursday Murder Club offers up a brilliant concept that’s flawlessly executed and told in a unique, captivating voice. These are rare qualities in any novel, let alone a debut. I read the first page, then put all else on hold to devour this pitch-perfect book in one sitting. Bravo!"
—Jeffery Deaver, #1 international bestselling author of The Goodbye Man

“Smart, compassionate, warm, moving and so very funny. I smiled a million times. This book will make a lot of people very, very happy.”
Marian Keyes, international bestselling author of Grown Ups

“A warm, wise, and witty warning never to underestimate the elderly.”
Val McDermid, international bestselling author of How the Dead Speak

“Utterly charming and very very clever.”
Sarah Pinborough, New York Times bestselling author of Cross Her Heart

“Funny, clever, and achingly British—what else would you expect from a book by Richard Osman?”
Adam Kay, internationally bestselling author of This Is Going to Hurt: Secret Diaries of a Medical Resident

“A superb debut. Thrilling, moving, laugh-out-loud funny and packed with characters you will want to see a lot more of.”
Mark Billingham, international bestselling author of Their Little Secret

“What a joy! Full of brilliantly observed humor, spot-on dialogue, and twists and turns aplenty. Joyce and the gang are now my favorite crime-solving team.”
Nina Stibbe, author of Reasons to Be Cheerful

Library Journal

★ 08/01/2020

Trivia maven and British quiz show host Osman's first mystery features crime-solving residents of a luxury retirement center in Kent, England. Located on the site of a former convent, Cooper's Chase Retirement Village offers clubs for every interest. The Thursday Murder Club members—Elizabeth, Joyce, Ibrahim, and Ron—meet weekly to examine the cold case files of a former detective. When the contractor who built Cooper's Chase is murdered immediately after being fired by center owner Ian Ventham, Joyce and the others inform the police that they saw the two men arguing. The entire group, including the police, are present when Ventham is murdered. There were 70 seniors who could have killed him. Then the new contractor unearths an extra body in the convent cemetery. The Thursday Murder Club enjoys two active murder investigations and several cold cases while Elizabeth manipulates the police to keep the group in the loop. The character-driven mystery, featuring a group of sleuths all too aware of their own mortality, and a likable pair of cops, is suspenseful, funny, and poignant. VERDICT The delightful, spirited characters from this witty, sometimes bittersweet story deserve a return engagement.—Lesa Holstine, Evansville Vanderburgh P.L., IN

OCTOBER 2020 - AudioFile

Four residents of the Coopers Chase retirement village meet regularly in this audiobook to try to solve cold cases until a real murder happens at the village. The septuagenarians then pit their detecting skills against those of the police. Narrator Leslie Manville captures the humor that arises organically from the very real characters she voices, making this audiobook fun to listen to. Listeners gain appreciation for the experiences of retirees as they face the deaths of their friends and family while continuing to keep active. As more bodies are added to the case, including a 50-year-old skeleton found in the Garden of Eternal Rest, Manville keeps listeners engaged. V.M.G. © AudioFile 2020, Portland, Maine

Kirkus Reviews

★ 2020-07-01
Four residents of Coopers Chase, a British retirement village, compete with the police to solve a murder in this debut novel.

The Thursday Murder Club started out with a group of septuagenarians working on old murder cases culled from the files of club founder Elizabeth’s friend Penny Gray, a former police officer who's now comatose in the village's nursing home. Elizabeth used to have an unspecified job, possibly as a spy, that has left her with a large network of helpful sources. Joyce is a former nurse who chronicles their deeds. Psychiatrist Ibrahim Arif and well-known political firebrand Ron Ritchie complete the group. They charm Police Constable Donna De Freitas, who, visiting to give a talk on safety at Coopers Chase, finds the residents sharp as tacks. Built with drug money on the grounds of a convent, Coopers Chase is a high-end development conceived by loathsome Ian Ventham and maintained by dangerous crook Tony Curran, who’s about to be fired and replaced with wary but willing Bogdan Jankowski. Ventham has big plans for the future—as soon as he’s removed the nuns' bodies from the cemetery. When Curran is murdered, DCI Chris Hudson gets the case, but Elizabeth uses her influence to get the ambitious De Freitas included, giving the Thursday Club a police source. What follows is a fascinating primer in detection as British TV personality Osman allows the members to use their diverse skills to solve a series of interconnected crimes.

A top-class cozy infused with dry wit and charming characters who draw you in and leave you wanting more, please.

Product Details

BN ID: 2940177200699
Publisher: Penguin Random House
Publication date: 09/22/2020
Series: Thursday Murder Club Series
Edition description: Unabridged
Sales rank: 200,102

Read an Excerpt

1.

Joyce

Well, let's start with Elizabeth, shall we? And see where that gets us?

I knew who she was, of course; everybody here knows Elizabeth. She has one of the three-bedroom flats in Larkin Court. It's the one on the corner, with the decking? Also, I was once on a quiz team with Stephen, who, for a number of reasons, is Elizabeth's third husband.

I was at lunch, this is two or three months ago, and it must have been a Monday, because we were having shepherd's pie. Elizabeth said she could see that I was eating, but she wanted to ask me a question about knife wounds, if it wasn't inconvenient?

I said, "Not at all, of course, please," or words to that effect. I won't always remember everything exactly, I might as well tell you that now. So she opened a manila folder, and I saw some typed sheets and the edges of what looked like old photographs. Then she was straight into it.

Elizabeth asked me to imagine that a girl had been stabbed with a knife. I asked what sort of knife she had been stabbed with, and Elizabeth said probably just a normal kitchen knife. John Lewis or somesuch. She didn't say that, but that was what I pictured. Then she asked me to imagine this girl had been stabbed three or four times, just under the breastbone. In and out, in and out, very nasty, but without severing an artery. She was fairly quiet about the whole thing, because people were eating, and she does have some boundaries.

So there I was, imagining stab wounds, and Elizabeth asked me how long it would take the girl to bleed to death.

By the way, I realize I should have mentioned that I was a nurse for many years; otherwise none of this will make sense to you. Elizabeth would have known that from somewhere, because Elizabeth knows everything. Anyway, that's why she was asking me. You must have wondered what I was on about. I will get the hang of writing this, I promise.

I remember dabbing at my mouth before I answered, like you see on television sometimes. It makes you look clever, try it. I asked what the girl had weighed.

Elizabeth found the information in her folder, followed her finger, and read out that the girl had been forty-six kilos. Which threw us both, because neither of us was sure what forty-six kilos was in real money. In my head I was thinking it must be about twenty-three stone? Two to one was my thinking. Even as I thought that, though, I suspected I was getting mixed up with inches and centimeters.

Elizabeth let me know the girl definitely wasn't twenty-three stone, as she had a picture of her corpse in the folder. She tapped the folder at me, then turned her attention back to the room and said, "Will somebody ask Bernard what forty-six kilos is?"

Bernard always sits by himself, at one of the smaller tables nearest the patio. Table 8. You don't need to know that, but I will tell you a bit about Bernard.

Bernard Cottle was very kind to me when I first arrived at Coopers Chase. He bought me a clematis cutting and explained the recycling timetable. They have four different colored bins here. Four! Thanks to Bernard, I know that green is for glass and blue is cardboard and paper. As for red and black, though, your guess is still as good as mine. I've seen all sorts as I've wandered about. Someone once put a fax machine in one.

Bernard had been a professor, something in science, and had worked all around the world, including going to Dubai before anyone had heard of it. True to form, he was wearing a suit and tie to lunch, but was nevertheless reading the Daily Express. Mary from Ruskin Court was at the next table; she got his attention and asked how much forty-six kilos was when it was at home.

Bernard nodded and called over to Elizabeth, "seven stone three and a bit."

And that's Bernard for you.

Elizabeth thanked him and said that sounded about right, and Bernard returned to his crossword. I looked up centimeters and inches afterward, and at least I was right about that.

Elizabeth went back to her question. How long would the girl stabbed with the kitchen knife have to live? I guessed that unattended she would probably die in about forty-five minutes.

"Well, quite, Joyce," she said, and then had another question. What if the girl had had medical assistance? Not a doctor, but someone who could patch up a wound. Someone who'd been in the army, perhaps. Someone like that.

I have seen a lot of stab wounds in my time. My job wasn't all sprained ankles. So I said then, well, she wouldn't die at all. Which she wouldn't. It wouldn't have been fun for her, but it would have been easy to patch up.

Elizabeth was nodding away, and said that was precisely what she had told Ibrahim, although I didn't know Ibrahim at that time. As I say, this was a couple of months ago.

It hadn't seemed at all right to Elizabeth, and her view was that the boyfriend had killed her. I know this is still often the case. You read about it.

I think before I moved in I might have found this whole conversation unusual, but it is pretty par for the course once you get to know everyone here. Last week I met the man who invented mint choc chip ice cream, or so he tells it. I don't really have any way of checking.

I was glad to have helped Elizabeth in my small way, so I decided I might ask a favor. I asked if there was any way I could take a look at the picture of the corpse. Just out of professional interest.

Elizabeth beamed, the way people around here beam when you ask to look at pictures of their grandchildren graduating. She slipped a letter-size photocopy out of her folder, laid it facedown in front of me, and told me to keep it, as they all had copies.

I told her that was very kind of her, and she said not at all, but she wondered if she could ask me one final question.

"Of course," I said.

Then she said, "Are you ever free on Thursdays?"

And, that, believe it or not, was the first I had heard of Thursdays.

 

2.

PC Donna De Freitas would like to have a gun. She would like to be chasing serial killers into abandoned warehouses, grimly getting the job done despite a fresh bullet wound in her shoulder. Perhaps developing a taste for whisky and having an affair with her partner.

But for now, twenty-six years old, and sitting down for lunch at eleven forty-five in the morning, with four pensioners she has only just met, Donna understands that she will have to work her way up to all that. And besides, she has to admit that the past hour or so has been rather fun.

Donna has given her talk, "Practical Tips for Home Security," many times. And today there was the usual audience of older people, blankets across knees, free biscuits, and a few happy snoozers at the back. She gives the same advice each time. The absolute, paramount importance of installing window locks, checking ID cards, and never giving out personal information to cold-callers. More than anything, she is supposed to be a reassuring presence in a terrifying world. Donna understands that; also, it gets her out of the station and gets her out of paperwork, so she volunteers. Fairhaven's police station is sleepier than Donna is used to.

Today, however, she found herself at the Coopers Chase Retirement Village. It seemed innocuous enough. Lush, untroubled, sedate, and on her drive in she spotted a nice pub for lunch on the way home. So getting serial killers in headlocks on speedboats would have to wait.

"Security," Donna began, though she was really thinking about whether she should get a tattoo. A dolphin on her lower back? Or would that be too cliche? "What do we mean when we say the word security? Well, I think that word means different things to different . . ."

A hand shot up in the front row. Which was not normally how this went, but in for a penny. An immaculately dressed woman in her eighties had a point to make.

"Dear, I think we're all hoping this won't be a talk about window locks." The woman looked around her and picked up murmured support.

A gentleman hemmed in by a walking frame in the second row was next. "And no ID cards, please; we know about ID cards. 'Are you really from the gas board, or are you a burglar?' We've got it, I promise."

A free-for-all had commenced.

"It's not the gas board anymore. It's Centrica," said a man in a very smart three-piece suit.

The man sitting next to him, wearing shorts, flip-flops, and a West Ham United shirt, took this opportunity to stand up and stab a finger in no particular direction. "It's thanks to Thatcher that, Ibrahim. We used to own it."

"Oh, do sit down, Ron," the well-dressed woman had said. Then she looked at Donna and added, "Sorry about Ron," with a slow shake of her head. The comments had continued to fly.

"And what criminal wouldn't be able to forge an ID document?"

"I've got cataracts. You could show me a library card and I'd let you in."

"They don't even check the meter now, dear. It's all on the web."

"It's on the cloud, dear."

"I'd welcome a burglar. It would be nice to have a visitor."

There had been the briefest of lulls. An atonal symphony of whistles began as some hearing aids were turned up, while others were switched off. The woman in the front row had taken charge again.

"So . . . and I'm Elizabeth, by the way . . . no window locks, please, and no ID cards, and no need to tell us we mustn't give our PIN to Nigerians over the phone. If I am still allowed to say Nigerians."

Donna De Freitas had regrouped. She was aware she was no longer contemplating pub lunches or tattoos, but was instead thinking about a riot training course back in the good old days in South London.

"Well, what shall we talk about, then?" Donna asked. "I have to do at least forty-five minutes, or I don't get the time off in lieu."

"Institutional sexism in the police force?" said Elizabeth.

"I'd like to talk about the illegal shooting of Mark Duggan, sanctioned by the state and-"

"Sit down, Ron!"

So it went on, enjoyably and agreeably, until the hour was up, whereupon Donna was warmly thanked, shown pictures of grandchildren, and then invited to stay for lunch.

And so here she is, picking at her salad, in what the menu describes as a "contemporary upscale restaurant." Eleven forty-five is a little early for her to have lunch, but it wouldn't have been polite to refuse the invitation. She notes that her four hosts are not only tucking in to full lunches but have also cracked open a bottle of red wine.

"That really was wonderful, Donna," says Elizabeth. "We enjoyed it tremendously." Elizabeth looks to Donna like the sort of teacher who terrifies you all year but then gives you a grade A and cries when you leave. Perhaps it's the tweed jacket.

"It was blinding, Donna," says Ron. "Can I call you Donna, love?"

"You can call me Donna, but maybe don't call me love," says Donna.

"Quite right, darling," agrees Ron. "Noted. That story about the Ukrainian with the parking ticket and the chainsaw, though? You should do after-dinner speaking; there's money in it. I know someone, if you'd like a number?"

The salad is delicious, thinks Donna, and it's not often she thinks that.

"I would have made a terrific heroin smuggler, I think." This was Ibrahim, who earlier raised the point about Centrica. "It's just logistics, isn't it? There's all the weighing too, which I would enjoy, very precise. And they have machines to count money. All the mod cons. Have you ever captured a heroin dealer, PC De Freitas?"

"No," admits Donna. "It's on my list, though."

"But I'm right that they have machines to count money?" asks Ibrahim.

"They do, yes," says Donna.

"Wonderful," says Ibrahim, and downs his glass of wine.

"We bore easily," adds Elizabeth, also polishing off a glass. "God save us from window locks, WPC De Freitas."

"It's just PC now," says Donna.

"I see," says Elizabeth, lips pursing. "And what happens if I still choose to say WPC? Will there be a warrant for my arrest?"

"No, but I'll think a bit less of you," says Donna. "Because it's a really simple thing to do, and it's more respectful to me."

"Damn, checkmate, okay," says Elizabeth, unpursing her lips.

"Thank you," says Donna.

"Guess how old I am," challenges Ibrahim.

Donna hesitates. Ibrahim has a nice suit, and he has great skin. He smells wonderful. A handkerchief is artfully folded in his breast pocket. Hair thinning but still there. No paunch, and just the one chin. And yet underneath it all? Hmmm. Donna looks at Ibrahim's hands. Always the giveaway.

"Eighty?" she ventures.

She sees the wind depart Ibrahim's sails. "Yes, spot-on, but I look younger. I look about seventy-four. Everyone agrees. The secret is Pilates."

"And what's your story, Joyce?" Donna asks the fourth member of the group, a small white-haired woman in a lavender blouse and mauve cardigan. She is sitting very happily, taking it all in. Mouth closed but eyes bright. Like a quiet bird, constantly on the lookout for something sparkling in the sunshine.

"Me?" says Joyce. "No story at all. I was a nurse, and then a mum, and then a nurse again. Nothing to see here, I'm afraid."

Elizabeth gives a short snort. "Don't be taken in by Joyce, PC De Freitas. She is the type who 'gets things done.'"

"I'm just organized," says Joyce. "It's out of fashion. If I say I'm going to Zumba, I go to Zumba. That's just me. My daughter is the interesting one in the family. She runs a hedge fund, if you know what one is?"

"Not really," admits Donna.

"No," agrees Joyce.

"Zumba is before Pilates," says Ibrahim. "I don't like to do both. It's counterintuitive to your major muscle groups."

A question has been nagging at Donna throughout lunch. "So, if you don't mind me asking, I know you all live at Coopers Chase, but how did the four of you become friends?"

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