The Thursday Murder Club

by Richard Osman

  ‘In the country, John?’

  ‘In the country, as you say. And a chap, well sometimes it’s a woman, will show them around some houses. I watch it with the sound down, because it’s not really Penny’s sort of thing. You can really see in the eyes of the couple which one wants to move and which one is just going along with it. For a quiet life, you know?’

  ‘John,’ says Elizabeth, leaning forward and staring straight into his eyes. ‘I’ve never known you utter a sentence without a reason. Where is this heading?’

  ‘Well, it’s only heading here, I suppose,’ says John. ‘I was watching Escape to the Country, you see, on the day that Curran was killed and they’d just got to the end, where they decide whether to buy the house or not. They never do, but that’s half the fun. I got up and wandered out to get a Lucozade Sport from the machine and I looked out of the window, the one at the front, and saw Ventham’s car driving off.’

  ‘The Range Rover?’ asks Elizabeth.

  ‘Yes, the Range Rover,’ says John. ‘Coming down the track from the top of the hill. And I just thought I would mention it to you, as Escape to the Country is on straight after Doctors and it finishes at three on the dot.’

  ‘I see,’ says Elizabeth.

  ‘And I thought that perhaps if you knew exactly when Ventham left Coopers Chase and you knew exactly when Curran had been killed, it might be useful? For the investigation?’

  ‘Three p.m.?’ asks Elizabeth.

  ‘Mmm. On the dot.’

  ‘Thank you, John. I think I need to send a text message.’ Elizabeth takes out her phone.

  ‘I don’t think you’re supposed to use your mobile telephone in here, Elizabeth,’ says John.

  Elizabeth gives a kindly shrug. ‘Well, imagine if we only ever did what we were supposed to, John?’

  ‘You have a point there, Elizabeth,’ agrees John, and goes back to his book.

  34

  Donna is getting ready to go out when her phone pings. A message from Elizabeth. She only left her a few hours ago. It will be trouble, for sure, but she likes seeing the name pop up.

  What time was Tony Curran killed?

  Well, that was short and to the point. Donna smiles and composes a reply.

  Maybe ask how I am, share a bit of gossip, before asking for a favour? And sign off with a kiss. Soften me up a bit x

  Donna sees the speech bubble, showing that Elizabeth is replying. She is taking her time, so what will it be? A lecture? A reminder of why Donna is investigating a murder, instead of measuring the depth of tyre treads in the car park at Halfords, which is what Mark was doing today? Perhaps it would be something in Latin? There is a ping.

  How are you Donna? Mary Lennox has just had a new great granddaughter, but she is worried that her granddaughter has been having an affair, because the husband has a very prominent chin and it is nowhere to be seen. What time was Tony Curran killed? X

  Donna is choosing between lipsticks. She wants something that doesn’t look too obvious, while at the same time looking obvious. She replies.

  I can’t tell you that. I’m a professional.

  There is an immediate ping back.

  LOL!

  LOL? Where had Elizabeth got that from? Two can play at that game.

  WTF?

  This has clearly foxed Elizabeth and Donna has time to look in the mirror and check her interested face, her laughing face and her quietly seductive face before the next ping.

  I’m afraid I don’t know WTF. I only discovered LOL from Joyce last week. I’m going to assume that it doesn’t refer to the Warsaw Transit Facility, as that was shut down in 1981 when the Russians came sniffing.

  Donna sends back an emoji of big eyes and an emoji of the Russian flag and then starts to floss. Even though they say you don’t need to floss any more. Ping!

  That’s the Chinese flag, Donna. Just let me know the time of death. You know we won’t tell a soul and you also know we might just come up with something useful.

  Donna smiles. What harm could it do, really?

  3.32. His Fitbit broke when he fell.

  There is another ping.

  Well, I don’t know what a Fitbit is either, but thank you. X

  35

  Joyce

  The police came over today and at first I had to feel sorry for DCI Hudson, but I think he rather enjoyed himself by the end. Anyway, Elizabeth gave him and Donna the file, so we’ll see what they make of it. Joanna’s name is not on the file anywhere, which Elizabeth reassured me helps with ‘plausible deniability’ just in case anything we’re doing is against the law. Which I assume it is.

  I asked Elizabeth to repeat the phrase ‘plausible deniability’ and I wrote it down. She asked me why I was writing it down and I said it was because I’m writing a diary and she rolled her eyes. Though she then asked if she was in the diary and I said of course she was and she then asked if I was using her real name. Which I said I was, though I’ve thought about it since and who knows with Elizabeth? Perhaps she’s really a Jacqueline? We tend to accept what people tell us they’re called. No questions asked.

  But I’ve been thinking. You must think I’m murder obsessed, it’s all I’ve written about since I started this diary. So perhaps I should tell you some other things. Let’s talk about a few things that aren’t murder. What can I tell you?

  When I was putting the hoover round after the police had gone, Elizabeth said she thought I would get on with a Dyson. But I said I didn’t think so, not at my age. But perhaps I should take the plunge?

  And after the hoovering we had a glass of wine. It was a screw top, but you don’t notice these days, do you? It’s just as good.

  When Elizabeth went home, I asked her to give my love to Stephen and she said she would. Then I said they should both come to dinner one night and she said that would be lovely. But all is not right, there. She will tell me when she’s ready.

  What else that isn’t murder?

  Mary Lennox’s granddaughter has just had a baby. He’s called River, which has raised a few eyebrows, but I rather like it. The woman who works in the shop is getting divorced and they’ve started stocking chocolate digestives. Karen Playfair, from up on the hill, is coming to give us a ‘Coopers Chase Breakfast Masterclass’ talk on computers. The last newsletter said she’s coming to give a talk about tablets and that caused some confusion, so they had to print an explanation this week.

  Apart from that, and the murder, all is peace and quiet.

  Anyway, I see that it’s getting late, so I will wish you a good night. While I have been writing, Elizabeth has sent me a message. We are off on a road trip tomorrow. No idea when and no idea why, but I shall look forward to it very much.

  36

  Donna can’t believe she is already in bed at 9.45. She had gone on the date because, frankly, it was about time. A man called Gregor had taken her to Zizzi’s, where he had nibbled at a salad and talked her through his protein-shake regime for ninety minutes.

  At one point Donna had asked him who his favourite author was. For Donna an acceptable answer would be Harlan Coben, Kurt Vonnegut, or any woman. Gregor had sagely replied that he ‘didn’t believe in books’ and that ‘you only learn in this life through having experiences and keeping your mind open’. When she then raised the thorny philosophical dilemma of whether you could both ‘keep your mind open’ and ‘not believe in books’ he had replied, ‘Well, I think you rather prove my point there, Diana,’ and sipped his water in a manner that suggested great wisdom.

  Close to tears through boredom, Donna had wondered where Carl was this evening. Donna has recently taken to scrolling through the Instagram feed of her ex-boyfriend and the Instagram feed of his new girlfriend, who appeared to be called Toyota. It has become such a habit now, she will sort of miss it when Carl and Toyota split up. Which they will, because Carl is an idiot and he’s not going to keep a hold of a girlfriend with eyebrows that great.

  Does Donna still love Carl? No. Did she ever, if sh
e’s being honest? Probably not, now she’s had time to think about it. Does she still feel belittled by his rejection? Yes, that’s showing no signs of going away. It’s sitting like a stone just under her heart. She had arrested a shoplifter in Fairhaven last week, and when he had struggled, she had brought him down with a baton behind the knees. She was aware she had hit him much harder than she should. Sometimes you just had to hit things.

  Was it a mistake to get as far away from Carl as she could? To transfer to Fairhaven in a frightened huff? Of course it was a mistake. It was stupid. Donna has always been headstrong, always acted quickly and decisively. Which is a fine quality when you are right, but a liability when you are wrong. It’s great to be the fastest runner, but not when you’re running in the wrong direction. Meeting the Thursday Murder Club was the first good thing that had happened to Donna in a long time. That and Tony Curran being murdered.

  Donna had taken a photo of herself and Gregor just after he’d finished his superfood salad. She posted it to Instagram with the caption ‘This is what you get when you date a personal trainer!’ and added not one but two wink emojis. The only thing men were ever jealous of was good looks, and Carl wasn’t to know that Donna had spent much of the evening surveying the dinner table, idly wondering how she would murder Gregor, if she absolutely had to. She had settled on injecting a dough ball with cyanide. Although she later realized that there was no way she could have got Gregor to eat a carb.

  Talking of Gregor, she hears the toilet flush. She slips her clothes back on and, as he comes back out of the bathroom, she gives him a peck on the cheek. There is no way she’s staying overnight in the room of a twenty-eight-year-old man who has two posters on his bedroom wall, one of the Dalai Lama and one of a Ferrari. It is still not 10 p.m. and she wonders if she is allowed to text Chris Hudson and see if he fancies a quick drink. Have a little chat about Elizabeth’s file, the bits of it that she had understood. Also, she has finally just watched Narcos on Netflix and wants to discuss it with someone. Gregor had not seen it. Gregor didn’t watch television, due to a long reason that Donna had quickly lost interest in.

  Maybe she should just head home and ring Elizabeth instead? Talk through what she’d read in the folder? Would 10 p.m. be too late? Who knew with that lot? They had lunch at half eleven.

  So, it’s either Chris, her boss, or Elizabeth, her … well what exactly was Elizabeth? The word that came to Donna’s mind first was ‘friend’, but surely that wasn’t right.

  37

  ‘Not too late at all, PC De Freitas,’ says Elizabeth, nearly dropping the phone receiver in the darkness and blindly struggling to switch on the bedside light. ‘I was just watching a Morse.’

  Elizabeth manages to flick the light on, sees the gentle rise and fall of Stephen’s ribcage. His faithful heart beating on.

  ‘And why are you up at this hour, Donna?’

  Donna sneaks a look at her watch. ‘Well, it’s quarter past ten. Sometimes I just stay up this late. Now, Elizabeth, the folder was a bit long and a bit complicated, but I think I got some of it.’

  ‘Excellent,’ replies Elizabeth. ‘I wanted it to be long and complicated enough for you to need to ring me to talk about it.’

  ‘I see,’ says Donna.

  ‘It keeps me involved, you see, and it reminds you that we can be useful. I wouldn’t want you to feel like we were interfering, Donna, but at the same time I do want to interfere.’

  Donna smiles. ‘Why don’t you take me through it?’

  ‘Well, firstly, just to note, there are documents in that folder that would take you weeks to track down. You’d need warrants and all sorts. Ventham wouldn’t let you anywhere near some of them. So, I’m not blowing my own trumpet, but even so.’

  ‘Feel free to let me know how you got hold of them.’

  ‘Ron found them in a skip. Amazing what you can find, a lucky break for us all. Now, do you want the headlines before bed? You want to know why Ian Ventham might have murdered Tony Curran?’

  Donna lies back on her pillow, remembering her mum reading her bedtime stories. She is aware that this shouldn’t feel similar, but it does. ‘Mmm hmm,’ she assents.

  ‘Now, Ventham’s business is very profitable, very well run. But here’s the first headline that’s of interest to us. We discover that Tony Curran owns twenty-five per cent of Coopers Chase.’

  ‘I see,’ says Donna.

  ‘But then we discover that Curran is not a partner in the new company Ventham is using for The Woodlands.’

  ‘The new development? OK. And?’

  ‘There is an appendix in your folder – 4c, I think. The Woodlands was due to be exactly the same as the rest of Coopers Chase, seventy-five per cent Ian Ventham, twenty-five per cent Tony Curran, until Ventham changed his mind and cut Curran out entirely. Now you know what question to ask next?’

  ‘When did Ventham change his mind?’

  ‘Precisely. Well, Ventham signed the papers to cut Curran out of the deal the day before the consultation meeting. Which was, of course, the day before their mysterious row. And the day before someone murdered Tony Curran.’

  ‘So Curran misses out on The Woodlands,’ says Donna. ‘What would that have cost him?’

  ‘Millions,’ says Elizabeth. ‘There are huge projections in the folder. Curran would have been counting on an enormous payday before Ventham cut him out of the deal. That’s the news he received from Ian Ventham the day he was murdered.’

  ‘Certainly enough for him to threaten Ventham. Is that your thinking?’ asks Donna. ‘So Curran threatens Ventham. Ventham gets scared and kills Curran? Gets his retaliation in first?’

  ‘Exactly. And it would get even worse after the next phase of the development, Hillcrest. That’s what our expert says.’

  ‘Hillcrest?’ asks Donna.

  ‘The real golden goose. Buying the farmland on top of the hill. Doubling the size of the development.’

  ‘And when will Hillcrest happen?’ asks Donna.

  ‘Well that’s a sticking point for Ventham. He doesn’t even own the land yet,’ says Elizabeth. ‘It is still owned by the farmer, Gordon Playfair.’

  ‘This is too complicated for me now, Elizabeth,’ admits Donna.

  ‘Forget Hillcrest for now, and forget Gordon Playfair, they’re red herrings. What that folder tells you are two key things. Firstly, Ventham double-crossed Tony Curran, on the day Curran died.’

  ‘Agreed.’

  ‘And secondly – listen carefully to this – Tony Curran’s shares have all reverted to Ian Ventham.’

  ‘Tony Curran’s shares pass back to Ian Ventham?’

  ‘They do,’ confirms Elizabeth. ‘If you want to put a figure on it, something simple to tell Chris Hudson, our expert says Tony Curran’s death just earned Ian Ventham around twelve and a quarter million pounds.’

  Donna gives a low whistle.

  ‘Which sounds an awful lot like a motive to me,’ continues Elizabeth. ‘So I hope this is helpful?’

  ‘It is helpful, Elizabeth. I’ll let Chris know.’

  ‘Chris, is it?’ says Elizabeth.

  ‘I’ll let you get back to sleep now, Elizabeth; sorry for ringing so late. And I’m grateful for what you’ve done. And it’s cute you keep saying “our expert” instead of “Joyce’s daughter”. Very loyal. I promise we’ll look into it.’

  ‘Thank you, Donna, and no comment. When you’re over next, I would like you to meet my friend Penny.’

  ‘Thank you, Elizabeth, I’ll look forward to it. Can I ask why you wanted to know what time Tony Curran died?’

  ‘Just idle curiosity. I think Penny will like you very much. Night, night, dear.’

  38

  The morning sun is rising in the Kent sky.

  ‘Ibrahim, if you keep driving at twenty-nine miles per hour, this whole exercise will be moot,’ says Elizabeth, her fingers drumming on the glove box.

  ‘And if I crash on a sharp bend, the exercise will also be moot,’ says Ibrahi
m, eyes fixed on the road and intending to remain steadfast.

  ‘Would anyone like a Mini Cheddar?’ asks Joyce.

  Ibrahim was tempted, but he liked to have both hands on the wheel at all times. Ten and two.

  Ron was the only one of them who had a car, but there had still been an argument about who was going to drive. Joyce hadn’t held a licence for thirty years and so was out immediately. Ron had put up a token fight, but Ibrahim knew he had lost his confidence on right-hand turns and would be secretly delighted to be voted down. Elizabeth put up more spirited opposition, mentioning that she still held a fully valid tank licence. She really could play fast and loose with the Official Secrets Act at times. But, in the end it all came down to this: Ibrahim was the only one who understood how the satnav worked.

  It had been Elizabeth’s idea, he was happy to grant her that. They knew, somehow, that Ian Ventham had left Coopers Chase at exactly 3 p.m. and they knew that Tony Curran had been murdered at 3.32. Ibrahim had had to explain to everyone what a Fitbit was. And so here they were, timing the journey in Ron’s Daihatsu. Ibrahim knew they could have just plotted the journey on the satnav, but he also knew no one else realized that and he had fancied the drive. It had been a long time.

  So Ibrahim is behind the wheel. Joyce and Ron are happily sharing their Mini Cheddars in the back seat, Elizabeth has stopped drumming her fingers and is now texting someone on her phone and everyone had been to the toilet before they left, as per his instructions.

  Could Ian Ventham have made it from Coopers Chase to Tony Curran’s house in time to kill him? If he couldn’t, then they were barking up the wrong tree. They were about to find out.

  39