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416 pages, Hardcover
First published September 14, 2023
"There's always something just out of reach. . . . Everyone chasing the thing they don't have. Going mad until they get it."




"So I’ve got a dodgy cockney, a coke dealer, some old bird with a shooter, and …" He looks at Joyce again.It all started when an old friend of Stephen's turned up dead. Kuldesh Sharma was essential in helping out Elizabeth, Joyce, Ibrahim, and Ron solve their most recent mystery and now they are burying him.
"Joyce," says Joyce.
There's no way Elizabeth can attribute any level of Stephen's forgetfulness to the benign. The dementia creeps every closer to Stephen, swallowing him bit-by-bit...and yet she can still see her husband. Still catch glimpses of him and she clings ever tighter.
"But, however much life teaches you that nothing lasts, it is still a shock when it disappears. When the man you love with every fiber starts returning to the stars, an atom at a time."
Elizabeth is bound and determined to solve Kuldesh's murder for Stephen. But it turns out that the murder isn't nearly so cut and dry. Antiques, forgeries, drugs, and monsters (the human kind) are around every corner.
“I don’t know why we’re on this earth,” says Stephen. “Truly I don’t. But if I wanted to find the answer, I would begin with how much I love you.”





“But, however much life teaches you that nothing lasts, it is still a shock when it disappears. When the man you love with every fibre starts returning to the stars, an atom at a time.”
“I know from experience that grief rides alone.”
“Had she really understood then that those were the best of times? That she was in heaven? She thinks she did understand, yes. Understood she had been given a great gift. Doing the crossword in a train carriage, Stephen with a can of beer ("I will only drink beer on trains, nowhere else, don't ask me why"), glasses halfway down his nose, reading out clues. The real secret was that when they looked at each other, they each thought they had the better deal.”
“Days of death are days when we weigh our relationship with love in our bare hands. Days when we remember what has gone, and fear what is to come. The joy love brings, and the price we pay. When we give thanks but also pray for mercy.”
“So I’ve got a dodgy cockney, a coke dealer, some old bird with a shooter, and …’ He looks at Joyce again.
‘Joyce,’ says Joyce.”
My review of The Thursday Murder Club
My review of The Man Who Died Twice (#2)
My review of The Bullet That Missed (#3)
My review of The Last Devil to Die (#4)