The Thursday Murder Club
I write this briefly, sitting in the deathly-cold bath that Osman has trapped me in. It has been more than two hours now. It was impossible to contemplate pausing long enough to get out and to get dry (and a bath is a convenient explanation for any excess moisture that might occasionally grace a bearded cheek).
What a great collection of characters. That’s what always makes a good book great. The friends who belong to the Thursday Murder Club could hardly be more different, and this is the success at the heart of this book. Each differing perspective is authentic and all of the characters, no matter how briefly they flicker through the story, have been well constructed.
As a crime novel, there’s a lot going on. ‘How many people have died in that book daddy,’ my daughter asked. This required finger counting. The tangle is also neatly laced with a succession of ‘Ah-ha! Of course! No… wait a minute!’ moments as you step into all the traps that lay scattered along the path of the story. The interconnected stories and various tangents definitely keep things interesting throughout.
I’m on a brief break, as I’m making my way through Christie’s Poirot series of books (in slightly the wrong order). It is, therefore, a great compliment that I bestow when I say The Thursday Murder Club has not broken my crime stride!
In a peaceful retirement village, four unlikely friends meet up once a week to investigate unsolved murders. But when a brutal killing takes place on their very doorstep, the Thursday Murder Club find themselves in the middle of their first live case.
Elizabeth, Joyce, Ibrahim and Ron might be pushing eighty but they still have a few tricks up their sleeves. Can our unorthodox but brilliant gang catch the killer before it’s too late? (Synopsis)
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