The Postscript Murders: A Mystery

By Elly Griffiths

"This droll romp is a latter-day Miss Marple.” —Washington Post

Murder leaps off the page when crime novelists begin to turn up dead in this intricate new novel by internationally best-selling author Elly Griffiths, a literary mystery perfect for fans of Anthony Horowitz and Agatha Christie.

The death of a ninety-year-old woman with a heart condition should not be suspicious. Detective Sergeant Harbinder Kaur certainly sees nothing out of the ordinary when Peggy’s caretaker, Natalka, begins to recount Peggy Smith’s passing.

But Natalka had a reason to be at the police station: while clearing out Peggy’s flat, she noticed an unusual number of crime novels, all dedicated to Peggy. And each psychological thriller included a mysterious postscript: PS: for PS. When a gunman breaks into the flat to steal a book and its author is found dead shortly thereafter—Detective Kaur begins to think that perhaps there is no such thing as an unsuspicious death after all.

And then things escalate: from an Aberdeen literary festival to the streets of Edinburgh, writers are being targeted. DS Kaur embarks on a road trip across Europe and reckons with how exactly authors can think up such realistic crimes . . .

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins
• Release date: Mar 2, 2021
• ISBN: 9780358419181

Elly Griffiths

Elly Griffiths is the USA Today bestselling author of the Ruth Galloway and Brighton mystery series, as well as the standalone novels The Stranger Diaries, winner of the Edgar Award for Best Novel; The Postscript Murders; and Bleeding Heart Yard. She is the recipient of the CWA Dagger in the Library Award and the Mary Higgins Clark Award. She lives in Brighton, England.

Book preview

Prologue

THE TWO MEN have been standing there for eighteen minutes. Peggy has been timing them on her stopwatch. They parked on the seafront just in front of Benedict’s café. A white Ford Fiesta. Annoyingly she can’t see the registration but, if she uses her binoculars, she can see a dent on the nearside door. If they have hired the car, the company will have taken a note of this. Peggy makes a note too, getting out her Investigation Book which is cunningly disguised as A Seaside Lady’s Diary, complete with saccharine watercolours of shells and fishing boats.

There are several reasons why Peggy finds the men suspicious. They look out of place in Shoreham-by-Sea, for one thing. Sometimes, just for fun and to keep her observational powers honed, Peggy makes an inventory of people who have walked past her window.

MONDAY SEPTEMBER 3RD 2018 10AM–11AM

7 x pensioners: 2 couples, 3 singles

1 x man on roller skates, 30s (too old)

4 x singles with dogs: 2 x collie crosses, 1 x pug, 1 x doodle (NB: people always remember dogs)

Woman, 30s, smartly-dressed, talking on phone

Man, sixties, carrying black bin-liner, probably homeless

4 x cyclists

2 x male joggers: one fit-looking, one looking on verge of collapse

1 x unicyclist (probably from Brighton)

The men outside her window do not fit this pattern. They are not cycling, jogging or accompanied by dogs. They are not pensioners. They are probably mid to late thirties, with short hair, wearing jeans and short jackets, one blue, one grey. What would young people call them? Bomber jackets? An ill-starred name if she ever heard one. The men look similar because of the way they’re dressed but Peggy doesn’t think that they are related. One is much darker-skinned than the other and built differently, compact rather than wiry. She doesn’t think they’re lovers either. They don’t touch or look at each other. They aren’t laughing or arguing—​the two best ways to spot if people are a couple. They’re just standing there, maybe waiting for something. Occasionally, The One In The Blue Jacket looks up at the flats but Peggy keeps back behind her curtains; she’s very good at disappearing into the background. All old people are.

At first she wondered if the bomber jackets had driven over espe­cially for Benedict’s coffee, which is excellent, but the men don’t move towards the Shack. There’s an alertness about them that Peggy finds most troubling of all, and they both have their backs to the sea. Who comes to Shoreham beach and doesn’t even glance at the shimmering water, looking at its very best today, dotted with sailing boats and accessorised with seagulls? But the crop-haired duo are facing the road and Seaview Court, the block of retirement flats where Peggy is currently lurking in a bay window. There’s no doubt about it. The men are waiting for something. But what?

At 11.05 precisely Blue Jacket takes out his phone and speaks to someone. Grey Jacket looks at his watch which is a chunky thing, visible through her binoculars even at a hundred yards away. The two men confer and get back into their car. The Fiesta pulls out into the road and Peggy leans forward to get the registration number.

GY something. Is that a one or a seven? She needs to go to the opticians and get her prescription changed. Then the car stops just outside her window. Peggy leans back into her curtains which are loosely woven cotton. So loose that she can see through the weave. It’s a little blurry but she thinks that one of the men is leaning out of the window taking photographs. Of Seaview Court. The Fiesta revs up and it’s gone.

11.07

1

Natalka

The Linking Words

SHE KNOWS IMMEDIATELY that something is wrong. It’s not anything tangible, the post is neatly stacked on the half-moon table, the flat is silent apart from the sound of seagulls mugging someone outside, the art-nouveau clock ticks serenely, set in its stainless steel sunset. But somehow Natalka knows. It’s as if the molecules have rearranged themselves.

‘Mrs Smith?’

She tries the Christian name too, although Mrs Smith is not one of the cosy ones.

‘Peggy?’

No answer. Natalka pushes open the sitting room door. The air hums with something like electricity, as if a device has been left on, but Natalka knows that Mrs Smith turns the radio on for The Archers at two and then off again at fifteen minutes past. She can’t stand the Afternoon Drama. ‘Full of self-obsessed people talking about their lives. That or time travel.’ It’s now six o’clock. Time for the evening call, to help clients get ready for bed. It’s insultingly early for bed, of course, but Natalka has five other clients to see so what can she do?

She enters the room. Mrs Smith is sitting in her armchair by the bay window. She likes to look out to sea and even has a pair of binoculars to spot rare birds with or, Natalka suspects, spy on passing ships. But she’s not looking at anything today. Mrs Smith is dead. Natalka knows that even before she checks the pulse and notes the half-open mouth and misted eyes. She touches the old lady’s skin. Cool but not cold. Natalka makes the sign of the cross in the air.

‘Rest in peace,’ she mutters as she dials the number for Care4You.

‘Patricia Creeve.’ The boss is in. Miracle.

‘Mrs Smith is dead.’ Natalka doesn’t believe in wasting words.

‘Are you sure?’ Nor does Patricia.

‘No heartbeat.’ In moments of crisis, Natalka often forgets prepositions and connectives. All the linking words.

‘I’ll come over,’ says Patricia. ‘God rest her soul.’

It’s an afterthought but Natalka doesn’t think any the worse of her boss for it. It’s going to be a long night.

---

NATALKA SITS ON the sofa to wait for Patricia. She would never just sit down in a client’s house, unless they specifically wanted a chat and Peggy wasn’t exactly the chatty sort. She was always polite but she knew that Natalka had a job of work to do and a limited time in which to do it. Now it feels odd to be sitting doing nothing, facing the silent figure in the chair which is angled to look out over the sea. Natalka gets up and walks to the window. There’s the wide blue sea with white-tipped waves and seagulls circling in the paler blue above. It’s a picture postcard view, if you don’t look to the right and see the power station and the sinister trawlers with Russian names. Suddenly Natalka realises that she has her back to a corpse. She also has the strangest feeling that she’s being watched. She spins round but Peggy hasn’t moved. Of course she hasn’t, Natalka tells herself. Peggy is dead. She’s not about to start dancing a mazurka. One floor below, Natalka hears a door open and shut. Then there are heavy footsteps on the stairs and Patricia is in the room. Natalka had left the apartment door on the latch.

Natalka gestures towards the chair and Patricia comes over. She takes Peggy’s hand with professional detachment but her eyes look sad.

‘She’s passed away,’ she says.

Passed away. It’s an English phrase that Natalka has never really understood. It sounds ethereal, ephemeral, something half seen and then forgotten. Clouds pass over the sky. But death is for ever.

‘Did you call an ambulance?’ says Patricia.

‘No,’ says Natalka. ‘I mean, I could see she was dead. What do you think it was? Heart attack?’

‘Probably. How old was Peggy?’

‘Ninety,’ says Natalka. ‘She was very proud of it. We had a little party for her at Benedict’s café.’

‘She was good for her age,’ says Patricia.

‘There are pills by her chair,’ says Natalka. ‘Perhaps she forgot to take them.’

‘Perhaps, but probably she just passed away in her sleep. It’s a good way to go,’ Patricia adds, patting Natalka’s shoulder kindly.

‘I know,’ says Natalka.

‘I’ll call the undertaker,’ says Patricia. ‘They’ll send a private ambulance.’

She has the undertaker on speed dial. Of course she does. While Patricia talks on her phone, Natalka approaches the body—​Peggy—​again. It’s only about fifteen minutes, but she’s changed. She’s no longer Peggy; it’s as if there’s now a wonderfully lifelike statue of an old woman in the chair. Her skin has a waxen quality to it and the hands, clasped in Peggy’s lap, look like they’ve been drawn by an artist. Who was it who drew praying hands? Dürer? Natalia is relieved that Patricia has closed Peggy’s eyes.

‘Rest in peace,’ she says again.

‘You should go home, Natalka,’ says Patricia. ‘This must have been a horrible shock for you. Take tomorrow morning off too.’

This is quite a concession. There are never enough carers at Care­4You and Natalka is usually being asked to do extra shifts. The thought of a lie-in is intoxicating.

‘Have you told Peggy’s family?’ she says. ‘I think there was a son.’

‘I’ll look.’ Patricia is consulting Peggy’s file, which she’s taken from the half-moon table. The clients all have them, carers have to write in the dates and times of every visit: Toileted, gave meds, all well.

‘Here it is,’ says Patricia. ‘Next of kin: son, Nigel Smith. There’s a mobile phone number too.’

While Patricia telephones, Natalka turns back to Peggy. She looks at peace, that’s what Patricia will say to Nigel. Passed away peacefully. There’s a book open on the arm of Peggy’s chair. High-Rise Murder by Dex Challoner. Peggy’s binoculars are on the table beside her. There’s also a pen, completed crossword and a pill dispenser, the sort that has the days of the week on it. There’s something else too, a piece of paper just poking out from under the crossword. Natalka slides it out. It’s a business card, very official, with black, curly writing.

Mrs M. Smith, it says. Murder Consultant.

2

Harbinder

Panda Pop

DS HARBINDER KAUR is working late. She doesn’t mind particularly. If she goes home, her mother will only start talking to her about internet dating (‘It’s the latest thing. There’s even a special Sikh What’s Up Group’) and her dad will rant about politics. At least here it’s quiet. No Neil, DS Neil Winston, her partner—​or ‘work husband’ as he sometimes cringe-makingly calls himself—​brushing imaginary crumbs off his desk and doing those irritating bicep curls, as if every second not spent in the gym is time wasted. No Donna, her boss, DI Donna Brice, bringing in her weekly shop and complaining about the price of Pringles. Empty, the CID room feels orderly and manageable. Harbinder completes her last batch of filing and mentally awards herself a gold star. ‘Best Gay Sikh Detective in West Sussex’, first out of a field of, well, one. Still, a gold star is a gold star. What should she do now? Wash out the coffee cups? Water the drooping spider plants? Phone Clare and catch up with the latest straight gossip? Go on Twitter and become disgusted with the world? Play a round or two of Panda Pop? Surely this last is the best use of her time. She actually gets out her phone and is about to click on the game when the intercom buzzes.

‘There’s a woman down here for you. Says she’s got something to report.’

‘Really?’ This sounds potentially interesting. ‘I’ll come down.’

The woman waiting in reception, surrounded by old copies of Police Monthly, is not what Harbinder is expecting. She’s young, for one thing, with blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. And, when she speaks, it’s obvious that English is not her first language. She’s very fluent but she has a light, intriguing, accent. Young, foreign women do not often come into the police station at Shoreham-by-Sea.

‘I’m Natalka Kolisnyk,’ says the woman. ‘I’m not sure if it is right to come here.’

‘Come into my office,’ says Harbinder. ‘And we can talk about it.’

Harbinder takes Natalka into Donna’s office. She regrets saying it was hers when she sees how untidy it is. Also, Donna has got one of those awful cutesy calendars with babies in flowerpots. Natalka sits in the visitor’s chair and tells Harbinder that she’s twenty-seven and works as a carer for a company called Care4You in Shoreham. ‘Zero hours,’ she says with a grimace, ‘no benefits, no travel allowance.’ Harbinder nods. Shoreham is full of elderly people, many of whom need care in their homes. It’s no surprise that those who provide the care are poorly treated and paid the minimum. Natalka, though, doesn’t look as if she’s on the breadline. She’s dressed simply in jeans and a white T-shirt but her trainers are expensive Allbirds. Harbinder always notices shoes.

‘I have a client at Seaview Court called Mrs Smith,’ says Natalka, looking around the room with undisguised interest. Harbinder hopes she doesn’t notice the flowerpot babies. She knows Seaview Court, it’s sheltered housing, right on the seafront overlooking the beach.

‘She was called Peggy,’ says Natalka. ‘Peggy Smith. She died two days ago. It was very sad but not a surprise. She was ninety. It could have happened any time. But today I helped clear up her flat. Her son is coming tomorrow and he wants everything in boxes. He wants to sell quickly. He’s that type.’

Harbinder nods again. She knows that type too.

‘The son, Nigel, asked me to start with the books. Mrs Smith had many, many books. All about murder.’

‘Crime novels?’

‘Yes. You know, man kills woman. Or woman kills man. Sometimes it’s that way round. Not so often, though.’ She smiles, revealing excellent teeth, white and even. ‘And the detective solves it on the last page.’

‘Yeah that’s how it works in real life too,’ says Harbinder. ‘Always.’

‘Well, I started putting the books in boxes. Then I got bored and started to read bits of them. Then I noticed something.’

‘What?’ says Harbinder. Natalka is obviously trying to string the story out but Harbinder is in a tolerant mood.

‘They are all written to her. Mrs Smith.’

‘Written by her?’

‘No.’ Natalka clicks her fingers, trying to come up with the word. ‘They are written to her. To Mrs Smith, without whom . . . et cetera, et cetera.’

‘Dedicated to her?’

‘Yes! Dedicated to her. All these murder books are dedicated to her. Isn’t that strange?’

‘I suppose so. Are they written by different people?’

‘Yes, lots of different people. But lots by Dex Challoner. He’s famous. I googled him.’

Harbinder has heard of Dex Challoner. He’s a local author and his books are piled high at every bookshop in the country. They seem to feature a private investigator called Tod France who doesn’t look like any PI Harbinder has ever met.

‘And they’re all dedicated to this Mrs Smith?’

‘Some are. Some just mention her in the back pages, you know.’

‘The acknowledgements?’

‘Yes. Thanks to Mum and Dad. Thanks to my publishers. And thanks to Mrs Smith.’

‘I wonder why.’

‘I know why,’ says Natalka, with the air of one putting down a winning hand. ‘Mrs Smith is a murder consultant. I found this. It was on the table next to her chair. The chair she died in,’ she adds, with what seems like unnecessary relish.

Natalka puts a small white card in front of Harbinder. Sure enough, in small Gothic print it says, Mrs M. Smith. Murder Consultant.

‘Murder consultant?’ says Harbinder. ‘What does that mean?’

‘I don’t know,’ says Natalka. ‘But it’s suspicious, isn’t it? A woman dies and then it turns out that she’s a murder consultant.’

‘We need to find out what it means before we decide if it’s suspicious,’ says Harbinder. ‘And why does it say M. Smith? I thought you said her name was Peggy.’

‘Peggy is sometimes short for Margaret,’ says Natalka. ‘English names are odd like that.’

‘I am English,’ says Harbinder. She’s not going to let Natalka assume otherwise, just because she’s not white.

‘I’m Ukrainian,’ says Natalka. ‘We have lots of strange names too.’

Harbinder thinks of Ukraine and a series of ominous images scrolls through her head: Chernobyl, the Crimea, Ukrainian airline crash. She wonders whether Natalka will prove similarly bad news.

‘How did Peggy Smith die?’ she says.

‘Heart attack,’ says Natalka. ‘That’s what the doctor said. I was the one who found her. She was just sitting in her chair by the window.’

‘So no sign of anything suspicious?’

‘I didn’t think so at the time. Nor did my boss. But now I’m wondering. I mean, how do you know what’s suspicious and what isn’t?’

‘That’s a good question,’ says Harbinder.

---

SHE THINKS ABOUT this conversation on the drive home. On the face of it, a ninety-year-old woman dying in her chair does not seem particularly suspicious. But maybe the mysterious Natalka (mysteriously attractive Natalka) is right. Maybe they should look below the surface of things. It does seem odd that an elderly lady should be mentioned in so many books. And ‘murder consultant’ does have a very sinister ring to it. Harbinder tells her phone to ring Clare. She’s still old enough to get a buzz out of hands-free stuff. Her nieces and nephews take it all for granted.

‘Hi, Harbinder.’ Clare’s voice—​confident, slightly impatient—​fills the car. ‘What’s up?’

‘Have you ever had a book dedicated to you?’

‘What?’

‘You read a lot. You teach creative writing. Has anyone ever dedicated a book to you? For Clare, without whom this book would have been finished in half the time.’

Clare laughs. ‘No, I’ve never had a book dedicated to me.’

‘Not even Henry’s?’ Clare’s boyfriend is a Cambridge academic.

‘I might get a mention in the acknowledgements of the new one, I suppose.’

‘Would you think it was odd if someone, quite an ordinary person, had lots of books dedicated to them and was mentioned in lots of acknowledgements?’

‘Unless they were a copy editor, yes.’

‘What does a copy editor do?’

‘Are you thinking of going into publishing? A copy editor checks a manuscript for mistakes, names changing, timelines going wrong, that sort of thing. Then a proofreader checks it again. Except they don’t seem to use proofreaders as much as they used to.’

Could Peggy Smith have been a proofreader? It’s possible, she supposes. It sounds like the sort of job a retired person might do. But the card hadn’t said ‘proofreader’. It had said ‘murder consultant’.

‘What’s all this about?’ says Clare. ‘Are you going to come over? I’ve made pasta. There’s loads left.’

‘Sounds tempting,’ says Harbinder, ‘but I should be getting home. See you soon. Love to Georgie and Herbert.’

It’s nearly ten o’clock by the time that Harbinder parks in the underground garage near her parents’ house. She still thinks of it like that although she lives there too. Sometimes she says to herself, in suitably shocked tones: ‘Harbinder Kaur was thirty-six years old, unmarried, and still lived with her parents.’ If she read that in a book, she’d lose all sympathy with the character. Mind you, Harbinder doesn’t read that sort of book. But, apart from a brief period when she’d shared a flat with other police cadets, she has lived in the flat above the shop all her life. In some ways, it suits her very well. Harbinder actually enjoys her parents’ company and it’s nice having someone to cook for you and generally look after you. But there are other drawbacks. Her parents don’t know she’s gay, for one thing.

She had hoped that the house would be quiet. The shop shuts at nine-thirty, her mother will probably be dozing in front of the TV, having left Harbinder something delicious warming in the oven. Her father will be getting outraged about the evening news and Sultan, their dozy German shepherd, will be nagging for his last walk. But, as she climbs the stairs, she can hear voices talking in Punjabi. Oh no, her parents must have friends round. How did two such sociable people produce a daughter who prefers Panda Pop to humanity?

‘Here she is,’ says Harbinder’s mother, Bibi, as if Harbinder is the final act in a variety show. ‘Here’s Harbinder at last.’

The two women at the table look as if they were expecting a more exciting special guest. Harbinder recognises them vaguely from one of her infrequent visits to the gurdwara.

‘How are you, Harbinder?’ says one of them. Amrit? Amarit? ‘Still with the police?’

No, Harbinder wants to say, I’m carrying these handcuffs for a bet. ‘Yes,’ she says, in English. ‘I’m still with the police.’

‘Harbinder’s a detective sergeant,’ says Harbinder’s father, Deepak. ‘She works very hard.’ Deepak is standing in the doorway with Sultan and looks a bit as if he wants his kitchen back.

‘Have you got a boyfriend?’ says the other woman. Honestly, what is it with old people? Why do they feel that they can ask questions like this?

‘I’m waiting for Mr Right,’ says Harbinder, between gritted teeth.

‘How old are you now?’ says Amrit beadily. ‘Thirty-eight? Thirty-nine?’

‘I’m forty-six,’ says Harbinder, adding ten years to her real age. ‘I look good on it, don’t I?’

‘She’s only thirtyish,’ says Bibi hastily. ‘Are you hungry, Heena? I’ve kept some food for you.’

Harbinder would love to storm upstairs and go straight to bed but she is very hungry and her mother is taking a plate out of the oven. Butter chicken. Harbinder sits down at the table.

‘Shall I drive you home?’ Deepak suggests to his visitors, who are both staring at Harbinder, as if expecting her to do a magic trick.

The women get to their feet, rather reluctantly. Suddenly, Harbinder realises that she can make use of the old crones.

‘Do either of you know Seaview Court?’ she asks.

‘Oh yes,’ says Amrit. ‘The place on the seafront. Baljeet Singh lived there. Until he died.’

‘And there was another lady there who lived to be a hundred,’ says her friend. ‘She got a telegram from the Queen.’

All the old aunties love the Queen. They think she’s very Indian.

‘It’s sheltered accommodation, isn’t it?’ says Harbinder.

‘Yes, but the warden doesn’t live in. They just say that to make you pay more.’

‘So it isn’t very secure?’

‘Oh no,’ says the other woman. ‘There’s a passcode but people are going in and out all the time. Carers, you know. Anyone could get in. I’d never let my mother live somewhere like that.’

Her mother? How old must this woman be?

‘Why do you want to know?’ says Deepak, gathering up his car keys.

‘No reason really,’ says Harbinder. She goes back to her buttered chicken and, thank goodness, the two guests take the hint and leave. Harbinder doesn’t know why her dad is giving them a lift. Surely they could both fly home on their broomsticks.

3

Benedict

Mindful Cappuccino

BENEDICT COLE SMILES as he tries to froth milk mindfully. I’m really very lucky, he tells himself. I have my own café on the seafront, I meet different people every day, my view is uninterrupted sea and sky. And it’s satisfying to make drinks that people enjoy. He makes his own brownies and biscuits too. He’s really very blessed.

‘Are you going to be all day with that cappuccino, mate?’

Benedict keeps smiling but it’s hard to love people sometimes, especially when they’re wearing a striped shirt with the collar turned up and a flat cap, despite being under seventy-five. This man is actually nearer his own age, thirty-two, and, despite the ‘mate’, the voice is jarringly posh.

‘Nearly done,’ says Benedict.

‘I haven’t got all day,’ says Striped Shirt, though it’s hard to see what could be so urgent, in Shoreham on a Wednesday morning. And, actually, striped shirts are rare in Shoreham, it’s much more working class and less pretentious than Brighton. Maybe Stripy Shirt is an estate agent selling seafront apartments to people who haven’t registered this fact yet.

Benedict puts the cappuccino on the ledge. It’s a mindful work of art, creamy but still strong, a delicate leaf etched into the foam.

‘Would you like a brownie with that?’ he asks.

‘No thanks,’ says Striped Shirt. He waves a card. ‘Contactless?’

Benedict proffers the machine but, inside, he thinks that ‘contactless’ sums up his life nowadays; or sums up society, if he wants to keep his gloom on a loftier plane. In the monastery physical contact had not been encouraged (for obvious reasons) but even during silent times there had been more actual communication than Benedict sometimes encounters in a week in the Outside World. And then there was the mass, the bread and wine, the body and the blood. Catholicism is very corporeal, when you come to think of it, which Benedict does, rather too often.

‘Penny for them?’

Benedict brightens immediately because here is one of his favour­ite customers, someone not contactless, someone with whom you can have a proper conversation. Edwin really is over seventy-five but he’d never dream of wearing a flat cap. He wears a panama in the summer and a trilby in the winter, sometimes, on really cold days, a deerstalker with furry earflaps.

‘Edwin!’ says Benedict. ‘Great to see you. I missed you yesterday.’

He doesn’t like to make his customers feel guilty if they miss a day but he really does notice if one of his regulars isn’t there. He worries about it in case something is amiss.

‘Actually,’ says Edwin, taking off his hat (a mid-season fedora today). ‘I’ve had some bad news.’

‘Oh no,’ says Benedict. He sees that Edwin really does look upset, his eyes bloodshot and his hands shaking. Has a family member died? Does Edwin even have any family left?

‘It’s Peggy,’ says Edwin. ‘She’s dead.’

---

THERE’S ALWAYS A lull around now and, with no customers in sight, Benedict and Edwin sit at the picnic table beside the Coffee Shack. The beach is almost empty too, miles of speckled shingle interspersed with clumps of sea kale. It’s September and the children have just gone back to school, which is a shame, because the sea looks perfect for swimming, blue-green topped with tiny waves. It’s had the summer’s heat on it too.

Benedict makes Edwin eat a brownie, ‘good for shock’, and for a moment they sit in silence. Benedict is comfortable with silence—​the monastery again—​but he’s anxious to

Reviews for The Postscript Murders

[darci.morosko · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I love Harbinder! Her sense of humor and the way her mind works is compelling. The mystery in this book unfolds at a steady pace and left me trying to figure out who was responsible. Can't ever guess the end of these mysteries by Elly Griffiths...might get one part right but will miss something significant. Highly recommend this book series.

[laytonwoman3rd · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Pure distraction as Harbinder Kaur investigates some seemingly natural deaths that don't feel right. Particularly interesting just now, as one of the characters is Ukrainian, and there are many references to Russian shenanigans of historical significance (pre-dating the current atrocity) and possible spy activities.

[xaverie_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I read this one aloud to my wife and we both really liked it.

This is the second Harbinder Kaur novel and I'm glad because she's a fun character. A grumpy lesbian cop who lives with her annoyingly doting parents, Harbinder is a great central character, especially when the series conceit is having multiple perspective characters related to the story. She's got a sharp mind, working class sensibilities, and a sarcastic inner monologue.

The first book's perspective characters, mother and daughter Clare and Georgia, are mentioned several times. Clare and Harbinder have become quite good friends, and I'm still positive that Harbinder is nursing a crush on her. But the new perspective characters are great, each with a viewpoint as funny and compelling as Harbinder's.

Natalka is a bisexual Ukrainian math nerd working as a carer in Shoreham. She's clever, outgoing, brusque yet friendly, and also deeply afraid that her brother was killed in the war. Benedict is a former monk who quit because he wanted to fall in love and subsequently opened a small coffee shack on the waterfront. He's an absolutely adorable character, an actual cinnamon roll. The third is Edwin, a gay octogenarian who spent a career at the BBC and is lonely rounds out the characters. These three are a lively bunch and the switching perspectives gives you real insight into their personalities.

I hope there are more in this series because both books have been fun, twisting murder mysteries that have left me satisfied with the ending and eager for the next.

[bookconcierge · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Digital audiobook narrated by Nina Wadia3.5*** This is book two in the series featuring Detective Sergeant Harbinder Kaur, but it can easily be read as a stand alone. A 90-year-old woman is found dead by her caretaker. It’s a peaceful scene; Peggy Smith’s body is sitting in her usual spot – a chair by the window where she liked to watch the goings on of her neighborhood. But Natalka, an immigrant from Ukraine, gets suspicious when she finds a stash of crime novels, all dedicated to Peggy, “murder consultant.” Then an armed intruder arrives as Natalka and her friend are trying to clean up Peggy’s flat, and, at gunpoint, steals one of the books, and the author of the stolen book is shortly found murdered! So, the case gets the attention of D.S. Kaur. This is NOT a cozy, as there is a true detective at the center of the investigation, but Natalka and two cohorts (Benjamin, a former monk who runs the local coffee shop, and Edwin, Peggy’s 80-year-old neighbor) run a sort of parallel investigation that (mostly) helps Harbinder solve the case. I really enjoyed this. It’s not a traditional hard-hitting detective novel, nor is it a sweet and quirky cozy mystery. Instead it is a brilliant composite of those subgenres. I liked the relationships between these characters, how they came together and pulled apart; how they countered one another’s theories, and supported each other’s efforts. And I liked learning something about Harbinder, a gay 30-something detective, who still lives at home with her parents. I want to know more about her. I also rather liked the supporting cast of Natalka and Benjamin and want to know more of their story, but from what I read of the synopses of the other two books in the series, they don’t appear again. Spin off?As for the main reason I like mysteries … I was kept guessing right to the end, and that’s a good thing. This is the first book by Elly Griffiths that I’ve read. It won’t be the last.Nina Wadia does a find job of narrating the audiobook. I don’t think I’ve heard a narration by her before and I’m impressed with her talent for voices. I’ll have to look for more of her audios.

[foggidawn · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

When a 90-year-old woman dies, it's not usually considered suspicious, but Peggy Smith was no ordinary woman. A crime aficionado, she advised several mystery authors on the plots of their books, calling herself a "murder consultant." An unlikely trio of her friends: her Ukrainian caretaker, her next-door neighbor, and an ex-monk turned coffee shop owner, are determined to solve the case. But when the authors Peggy advised start dying in suspicious circumstances as well, it's definitely a case for the police -- specifically, DS Harbinder Kaur.This is the second book in a series, and I'd recommend reading the first book (The Stranger Diaries) first, but don't stop with that one! This book was a lot of fun. I loved the trio of amateur sleuths. I did think there was one rather large coincidence, and that the ending was a little jumbled, but the characters make the reading so enjoyable that I'll forgive some little snafus.

[ffortsa · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

What a fun read. Griffiths seems to have hit her stride in this series. It's both complicated and funny, and kept me reading right through the day. Griffiths' coterie of retirees and misfits are delightful and in spite of the murderous plot, she brings the people we like to (mostly) happy endings.

[vesper1931 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Peggy Smith, murder consultant is dead at 90. Having died in her sleep. But carer Natalka is concerned and approaches the police. D.S. Harbinder Kaur with the aid of three of Peggy's friends, Natalka, Benedict, and Edwin investigate. But what secrets will they reveal. Will there be more deaths.
An enjoyable cozy mystery with some likeable characters but unfortunately written in the present tense.
An ARC was provided by the publisher via Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.

[rosalita_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I didn’t know, back in 2019 when I read The Stranger Diaries by Elly Griffiths, that it was meant to be the first book in a new series. I was already a big fan of Griffiths’ series featuring forensic archaeologist Ruth Galloway, but I didn’t jibe with her other series featuring Max Mephisto, a magician in 1950s Brighton, England. But I enjoy Griffiths’ writing and looked forward to reading this standalone novel.I was not disappointed by The Stranger Diaries, a sort of gothic mystery centered on Clare Cassidy, a sixth-form college English teacher whose colleague is found murdered. Lying next to the body is an excerpt of a story by Victorian horror writer R.M. Holland, who happens to be Claire’s research specialty. The narrative shifts among several viewpoints, from Clare to her daughter to the detective sergeant investigating the case, punctuated with lengthy excerpts purportedly from Holland’s most famous story. It’s a nicely atmospheric mystery with appealing characters, not least of whom is DS Harbinder Kaur, a gay woman born in England to parents who emigrated from India. I finished the book feeling vague regret that it wasn’t a series, as I would have happily spent more time with either Clare or Harbinder.Well. As it turns out, it was the first book in a series. While Clare has only a cameo in the second entry, The Postscript Murders (2020), it hardly matters, as DS Kaur is more than capable of carrying the narrative herself, with a little help from some new acquaintances. The plot again centers on the publishing world, as an elderly woman is found dead in her assisted-living community, apparently of natural causes. But a motley crew of people who knew her, including an elderly fellow who lives across the hall, her Polish caregiver, and a former monk who owns a nearby café, suspect foul play, and they take investigating matters into their own clumsy hands. The key to the mystery, they believe, is in the mysteries — that is, the shelves full of mystery novels by various authors, all of whom expressed gratitude in their books to the now-dead Peggy for her unspecified help.There’s some lively humor to be found as an exasperated DS Kaur tries to wrangle her amateur band of sleuths into not putting themselves in danger or inadvertently spoiling crucial evidence, but there’s also plenty of tension and old-fashioned clue-finding and suspect-grilling before the case wraps up. It’s an altogether satisfying follow-up to The Stranger Diaries. I’m already looking forward to a third entry in the series. Here’s hoping the Brighton Irregulars show up in that one as well.

[quondame · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Mostly fun to read, it ran a bit long because complications, romp with decent characters and a tricky mystery, though the clue dropping was a bit more like thuds. It's just so far over on outlandish obscure motive and the outrageous amateur sleuthing.

[lauralkeet · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A murder mystery about the death of a murder mystery writer? Yes please! Peggy Smith, an elderly woman living alone, dies suddenly, and her effects include long-running correspondence with a popular author. It appears Peggy was a source of plot ideas and reviewed early versions of the author’s work. Her death is labeled suspicious, and then the mystery writer is also murdered. Harbinder Kaur is assigned to investigate. But at the same time, three civilians have formed a self-appointed investigative team: Natalka, Peggy’s care worker; Edwin, a neighbor; and Benedict, a former monk turned cafe owner. Harbinder has to figure out how to capitalize on their energy while still retaining control of the investigation. This is no easy task when the trio embarks on a road trip to a literary festival in Aberdeen. Clues and hijinks ensue, in equal measure.Meanwhile, there’s Harbinder’s personal storyline. Her Sikh ancestry makes her stand out in the police force, and she’s often overlooked for opportunities. Harbinder is also openly gay at work but not at home, and she lives with her parents and hates having to hide herself from them. This novel sees some movement in a positive direction and a strengthening of her character.This is only the second book in a series, and I’m looking forward to reading future installments as they are published.

[nbmars · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is the second book in the author’s new series featuring Detective Sergeant Harbinder Kaur, a member of the West Sussex, England Murder Squad. Harbinder is 36 but still lives at home with her Punjabi parents, with whom she gets along well although they don’t know she is gay.  But her mother is a good cook, after all.   Harbinder is peppery, witty, and very clever, but underestimated by her peers, much to her chagrin.In this installment, a young Ukrainian care worker, Natalka Kolisnyk, comes to see Harbinder about her suspicions that a client, Peggy Smith, although 90, did not die of old age but was murdered. Peggy was in excellent shape and seemed in fine health just the day before. Natalka explains that while cleaning up Peggy’s apartment along with Peggy’s friend and neighbor Edwin (a dapper and young-at-heart 80-year-old), the two found a number of alarming signs that Peggy’s death could have had a more sinister cause than just “old age.” Peggy’s apartment was full of mystery books, and a surprising number of them were dedicated to Peggy. Moreover, Natalka found a business card identifying Peggy as a “murder consultant.” Then she saw a postcard with the ominous message: "We are coming for you." But the biggest sign something was unusual was that while Natalka and Edwin were in the flat, a masked person came in with a gun and stole one of the mystery books - very odd indeed!Harbinder agreed to look into it, especially after one of the mystery authors who dedicated his books to Peggy was murdered soon after Peggy’s death. He too had received a threatening postcard.Meanwhile, Natalka, Edwin, and Benedict, an ex-monk who ran the local coffee shop, take off on a hilarious Scooby-Doo type mission to an Aberdeen book festival to try and find out what was going on. Harbinder now had to chase after them in addition to doing her own investigation, as well as arranging for her injured mother to have a caregiver (Natalka recommended one for her) while Harbinder was in Aberdeen.The plot thickens with more murders, mysterious Ukrainian thugs, and romantic complications. As if that weren’t enough to keep readers entertained, there are red herrings and twists galore.Evaluation: Griffiths’s main protagonists always manage to come across as wryly funny and even adorable. The author’s sense of humor is so delightful that I often find myself laughing out loud even while reading about murder. For fans of murder mysteries like those of Anthony Horowitz that feature books within the books and explore the world of writers, literary agents, and publishers, for my money Griffiths is much better. Her tongue-in-cheek self-deprecatory takes on authors and the book industry are funny and insightful rather than tediously self-aggrandizing, as I find Horowitz to be. One can’t help loving Griffiths’ recurring characters, and I can’t wait to read more about them.

[kayanelson · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A fun little mystery. Slow to start but picked up speed and I couldn’t put it down.

[carole888fort · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The Postscript Murders by Elly Griffiths is the second instalment in the DS Harbinder Kaur series but it easily reads well as a standalone. A ninety-year-old woman dies in her home of what is believed to be natural causes. She was an avid fan of mystery novels and their authors and collected many volumes of these books. The young woman who was her carer becomes suspicious of the circumstances of her demise and relays her fears to Detective Sergeant Harbinder Kaur. Soon, crime writers begin dying in odd ways. The investigation will take the reader from Sussex to Aberdeen to Edinburgh and back. Cozies are normally not my favorite genre but I stayed with this one. The characters are well-developed and the fact that The Postscript Murders reads like an old-fashioned mystery (Agatha Christie comes to mind) kept me turning the pages. This genre is a departure for Elly Griffiths but she does cozies justice. Highly recommended. Thank you to Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, NetGalley and the author for the e-ARC in exchange for an honest review.

[sandyamcpherson · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I am delighted with another Elly Griffiths mystery, set in contemporary times in England:This is Book 2 in a series featuring a British-born, East Indian character, DS Harbinder Kaur. I really admire how Griffiths has portrayed Harbinder with details about the subtle ethnic constraints as well as gender problems in the police force. I didn't like Book 1 very much (there were strange police procedurals and some illogical action, in my opinion). However, this story was particularly excellent. The plot developed along lines that had wonderful twists and reveals.I especially enjoyed how the more elderly characters were woven into the plot. Griffiths showed a very realistic view of aging, living in retirement homes with health care and the restrictions that occur with infirmities. The novel was not at all depressing in this regard. An added bonus was the secret lives of the elders ~ was wonderfully hinted at and woven into a complex somewhat psychological drama. Another series I'll be chafing to read as soon as the next book is released!

[sleahey_3 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is a most enjoyable and fast-paced murder mystery, complete with interesting and quirky characters, red herrings, a road trip, and romance. Beginning with the victim, a 90 year old "murder consultant," the eccentric assortment of characters keeps our interest as they try to figure out if indeed the victim was murdered, and if so by whom. For readers of the mystery genre, it is amusing to read about the various authors and their craft, and we can hope for more works about Detective Harbinder and her sidekick.

[vanessa_menez-453497 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This was more of the cosy mystery genre, something which I am trying out for the first time.

When Peggy, a ninety-year-old client of Natalka’s is found dead in her chair, the police have no reason to suspect she has died from anything other than natural causes. But Natalka along with Peggy’s other friends decide to investigate suspecting foul play.

The concept of an elderly woman Peggy being a murder consultant who gives ideas to mystery and crime authors for their novels, was so interesting and unique.

It was a fun read thanks to all the diverse characters in the plot. The main detective DS Harbinder Kaur was unlike any other detective that I have read. The entire plot was so well written with sufficient twists that I was fully engaged in it and kept guessing till the end.

Looking forward to read more of DS Harbinder Kaur.

Thank You to NetGalley and Quercus Books for this ARC!

[twink_2 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Elly Griffiths is hands-down one of my favourite authors. And the Ruth Galloway series is my absolute favourite. Last year Griffiths wrote a standalone called The Stranger Diaries that featured DS Harbinder Kaur. It was a wonderful read! (my review) And I’m happy to say that wasn’t just a standalone! Griffith has just released the second book featuring DS Kaur - The Postscript Murders.Peggy Smith is a senior who spends her days looking out her bay window in the retirement home. She is older, so it’s not much of a surprise when her carer Natalka finds her passed away one morning. But it is a surprise when Natalka finds a card a card with the body, listing Peggy as a murder consultant. Well, that opens up a wealth of opportunities and directions for the story to go, doesn't it? A mystery about mystery novels, a murder consultant, mystery writers and more bodies makes for great reading.That mystery is clever and will keep you guessing. There's lot of red herrings to keep the reader on their toes, as well as a wealth of suspects. I admit I didn’t see the final whodunit reveal coming. (I always appreciate being kept guessing!) And the one that saves the day surprised me as well. But here’s the real reason that I love Griffith's books. The characters. They’re just so wonderfully drawn and I find myself so easily transported into the story and the world Griffiths has created. All of the players are just a bit quirky. DS Kaur describes herself as the best gay Sikh detective in West Sussex. She's quite clever and solves cases with her own methods. (Her family is so warm and I wish I could sample her mother's cooking!) Harbinder's inner dialogue is priceless. She often mentally visualizes her partner Neil as a squirrel. The Postscript Murders also has a group of amateur detectives on the case. Natalka, who is quite sure (and worried) that her past has found her. Benedict, an ex monk, turned coffee shack owner and dapper, lonely octogenarian Edwin, who is very happy to be on the case. The burgeoning friendship between the three is a lovely as well. The characters are believable and the reader can't help but be behind them. I devoured this one far too quickly. Most definitely recommended. More Harbinder Kaur please!(And there is a new Ruth Galloway book coming later this year. Watch for The Night Hawks.)

[pierthinker · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

DS Harbinder Kaur investigates the death of ninety year old Peggy Smith at her retirement home, initially suspecting a natural death, but events - two further deaths, a hold-up at gunpoint, cryptic messages and lies - lead her on to a murder investigation spanning her hometown of Shoreham and a trip to an Aberdeen literary festival. Harbinder is helped and hindered by a motley collection of people who knew Peggy and sense something suspicious is going on. The amateur sleuths - Natalia, Benedict, Edwin and, latterly, Julie - are the heart of this story. They often find clues and identify connections before the police, but lack the professional skills to pull it all together, which is where Harbinder comes in.Harbinder Kaur, the lesbian Sikh detective living with her parents in her mid-thirties, is a fully-formed and entirely believable character. Full of empathy, insights, professional skills and, when required, not a little bravery, she always has the reader’s support; her flaws - pride, resentment at a lack of promotion, slight self-loathing at stil living with her parents - make her more real and more sympathetic.The book is an exciting and compelling read where thinking about the crimes and painstakingly building an overall picture of events are more important than the action. The narrative drives forwards relentlessly and I found myself wanting to read just a few more pages every time I picked the book up.Highly recommended.

[cathyskye · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

As author Elly Griffiths says at the end of The Postscript Murders, this is a book about acknowledgments and about publishing, and I was happy to see Harbinder Kaur, a thirty-six-year-old gay Sikh police officer who lives with her parents, back for her second investigation. Joining her in the search for a killer is an interesting mix of characters: Natalka, an Eastern European caregiver who seems determined to have a mystery to solve; Benedict Cole, a former monk; Edwin, a former employee of the BBC who's on the far side of seventy; and the dead woman herself-- Peggy Smith, whose business card reads "Mrs. M. Smith Murder Consultant." Peggy is one of those victims readers run across from time to time who is such a strong personality that she begs for more time in the spotlight. The Postscript Murders will hold special interest for any reader who's attended a signing at a favorite bookshop or gone to a literary festival and watched panels of authors discuss various topics. If readers haven't attended these things, they will be given a good idea of what they can be like, and they may even be encouraged to attend one themselves.I did find myself wrapped up in the mystery, in trying to deduce the identity of the killer, and the glints of humor that popped up made me chuckle, especially Harbinder's tendency to think of her investigative partner, Neil, as a small, stupid but lovable, woodland creature. It was a pleasure to find myself immersed in the publishing world, and I was hoping that her investigation would turn Harbinder into a reader but, alas, she'll have to be pried away from the games on her phone first.Strong characters, strong mystery, strong setting-- all hallmarks of another enjoyable mystery by Elly Griffiths.

[rowingrabbit · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

In 2018 this author gave us The Stranger Diaries, a creepy & entertaining story that introduced DS Harbinder Kaur. She was more of a secondary character but with the arrival of this book, she steps into the shoes of MC. Not only is she up to the task, her unique voice is one of the most enjoyable aspects of this twisty murder mystery that caters to book lovers. It all kicks off with the death of Peggy Smith, a 90 year old woman living in quaint-sounding Shoreham-by-Sea. She’s found by her care giver Natalka, sitting in her chair by the window & surrounded by her beloved mystery books. It’s sad but hardly a shock, right? Well….It’s just that she was absolutely fine that morning when Natalka popped in. And there’s the small matter of the business card on the table that refers to Peggy as a “Murder Consultant”. Maybe Natalka better talk to someone.Luckily, her visit to the police station gets her a meeting with DS Harbinder Kaur. Neither one can know it yet but it’s the beginning of a strange, deadly & entertaining adventure, Because sudden death doesn’t stop with Peggy. Pretty soon, mystery authors who were acquainted with the little old ‘murder consultant” by the sea begin keeling over at an alarming rate. In short order, Kaur has several investigations on the go & whether she wants it or not, she’s also got outside help. Three of Peggy’s friends decide to act as Kaur’s eyes & ears. It’s not exactly an illustrious crew….a mysterious/gorgeous care giver (Natalka), an ex-monk turned coffee guy (Benny) & an OAP (Edwin). It’s like belonging to a really weird book club. But oddly enough, Harbinder is kind of enjoying it. So you’ve probably figured out this is not another gritty thriller. It’s more than that. As events lead police, Kaur & her team of misfits on a dash across the UK, many references are made to well known mystery/crime writers & their work. There’s definitely a golden age vibe to the story, albeit with a decidedly modern edge. Intricate plotting, compelling characters, smart dialogue & plenty of dry wit makes this an engaging read.At the centre of it all is Harbinder Kaur, a 30-something gay Asian cop who lives with her parents. I really like this character. She’s such an intriguing mix with one foot in the traditional Asian community of her parents while the other is firmly planted in her modern reality of being a cop. Several characters take turns narrating chapters but she provides the primary voice. And it’s one full of intelligence, determination & dryly observant humour. Plenty of red herrings keep you guessing as to who is behind it all while a variety of secondary characters add colour & depth to the story. I really enjoyed this & look forward to watching Kaur & her colleagues develop in the next one.

[kimkimkim-7 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

With a ton of dry humor, Detective Sergeant Harbinder Kaur is hot on the tracks of a murderer. Well, if truth be told she is not altogether sure if it is a murder. However, the victim’s caretaker and newbie-wannabe detective Natalka along with her compatriots Edwin, and Bennie are convinced that foul play is afoot. Off they go to a literary gathering in Scotland to detect and question anyone and everyone. So much unscripted silliness and foolish behavior. Somehow it worked even if it was just a wee bit simple. The greatest disappointment was the most interesting character is dead.Having read many of the “Ruth Galloway” installments this book took me by surprise. There was a lightness and tongue-in-cheek humor that helped to differentiate the style allowing me to focus on the characters in The Postscript Murders rather than drawing comparisons. I am rounding up for the wit, spirit of the characters and tidy resolution of intersecting “stuff”. The opinions expressed in this review are completely my own. Thank you NetGalley and Houghton Mifflin Harcourt for a copy.

[jetangen4571 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

mystery, England, cosy-mystery, sly-humor, amateur-sleuth, law-enforcement, procedural, suspense*****The active 90 year old died suddenly and her caregiver finds a business card stating that the woman was a Murder Consultant. She also finds that many authors have referenced her in their Acknowledgements.So it begins. Exploring the personalities and cultures of an interesting number of awesome characters as together and individually they explore the murders of authors linked to the Murder Consultant is riveting as well as fun. I found it to be a terrific read.I requested and received a free temporary ebook from Houghton Mifflin Harcourt via NetGalley.

[smik_3 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Peggy Smith, murder consultant, is 90, living in sheltered accommodation, seemingly healthy and fit, but dies unexpectedly. At first there seems nothing suspicious about her death, but questions are raised when a gunman breaks into her flat just to steal a book. Her death is followed by the murder of a popular crime fiction author whom she assisted with unusual plots. Her carer decides to tell the police that her death was unexpected.Eventually an investigative trio decides to track another author, who also used Peggy's services, to a crime fiction festival in Aberdeen where another author dies and it seems the suspicions about Peggy's death were well founded.This novel felt a little too cosy at times, and perhaps a little slow, but the various threads are brought together with a sure hand

[beamis12 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The Golden Age of mysteries with a contemporary setting and overtones, aided by three quirky amateur detectives and, Harbinger, the gay, Sikh detective from the Stranger Diaries. It starts with the death of a ninety year old in a care home. A mystery afficiendo, her apartment is chock full of mystery novels, some aged, some more current. Her death is thought to be from a heart attack, but her care giver is not sure having been told by the woman that she thought someone had been watching her. She enlists the aid of a fellow pensioner at the home and an former monk who now owns a coffee shack. And we're off to the races.A delightful blend of non graphic murder, wonderful characters, a look into the art of mysteries, much humor, and plenty of red herrings strewn hither and non. Loved the armchair today into Scotland and a book festival that features mystery writers that all seemed to know the dead women. Of course, more murders are soon committed making a strange case even stranger. Harbinger, brings us up to date in her life and tries to solve these mysteries while keeping track of her erstwhile amateurs. This is a fun, well put together story. I've read all three of Griffiths series and loved everyone. Her characterizations are top notch and the atmosphere have creates always, for me, feel authentic. "Of course, plot is overrated,' says Lance. 'i try to get beyond hat happens next.'Edwin reminds himself never to read Lance's book."Don't need to make that decision here, there is plenty of plot and plenty of Golden Age feel.ARC from Edelweiss.

[eyejaybee · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I picked this novel up by chance and really enjoyed it. It strays into similar territory to Richard Osman’s The Thursday Murder Club, which I had read just a few weeks earlier, sharing its evocation of the traditional, ‘cosy. Whodunit mystery of the past.Peggy Smith was in her nineties, so perhaps it was no surprise that she should be found dead in her favourite seat in her apartment situated within a sheltered housing scheme in Shoreham. Peggy was, however, an unusual woman, and had been cited in the author’s acknowledgements section of dozens of crime novels. It seemed that a lot of writers of crime fiction had come to see her almost as a consultant, and she was famed within those circles for her ability to suggest new ways in which characters might meet their end, or how their former associations with criminal life might catch up with them.Not everyone is convinced by the apparent normality of Peggy’s death, though. Her Ukrainian-born carer, Natalka, thinks that she had seen someone watching Peggy’s apartment in the days leading up to the death. But then, as we will discover, Natalka herself is far from normal. Indeed, she proves to be one of the most entertaining characters I have encountered for a long time.Elly Griffiths brings off a literary coup with this book as, while constituting a paean to the traditional detective novel, she peoples it with a host of unusual characters, who challenge the very idea of whodunit clichés. Natalka is aided in her investigations by a former monk who, having resiled from his vocation now manages a shack selling coffee on the beach, and a lesbian Sikh detective who dreams that some day she might manage to escape from living with her parents above their corner shop, although she dreads confronting them with her hidden life.The plot builds slowly at first, with Natalka and Co struggling initially to convince the police that their suspicions have any basis at all. The pace picks up, however, and takes in a visit to a crime fiction festival in Aberdeen (which itself offers a stark contrast to its fellow seaside town of Shoreham).Deftly plotted, and full of engaging, yet also plausible, characters, this is a hugely enjoyable book.

[kathl33n-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Elly Griffiths has a great writing style. It feels effortless to read and comes across very conversational. She also creates great characters that really come to life through her writing. She also throws in a pretty good murder mystery. What isn't to like?? This, the second in a series featuring the same detective, had great pacing and lots of dead bodies with many different angles of misdirection throughout the read. Definitely kept me guessing and thoroughly entertained. Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for providing me with an advanced copy.

[atticusfinch1048 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The Postscript Murders – A good old fashioned whodunnit The latest book from Elly Griffiths is everything you would like from one of the best crime writers in Britain today. Her story telling slowly grips the reader around the throat, and just reading one chapter rapidly turns into half the book a couple of hours later. This is a brand new, standalone book, and she has created likable characters, even if some may be rather flawed, but highly enjoyable.Set in Shoreham by Sea, where watching the bacon slicer in the butchers is considered excitement, there are a couple of murders. Starting with the death of a ‘murder consultant’ her carer who discovered her, dead in her chair manages to get her neighbour, and the local café stand owner involved. With the reintroduction of DS Harbinder Kaur we get an end of the pier show, of odd characters who work well together.As the intrepid bunch set out to investigate the murder of Peggy the ‘Murder Consultant’ and the death of a writer. The take a drive to a crime festival, in Aberdeen. It is in Aberdeen that things take a turn for the worst, and the plot picks up pace. Where eventually the killer will be revealed when they are all back safe and sound in Shoreham.Shoreham by Sea has never been so exciting!

[pgchuis · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I received a copy of this novel from the publisher via NetGalley.This was a very enjoyable read, with likeable characters, although the plot doesn't bear examining in any detail. There is a huge discrepancy between the blurb and what one of the characters says on the one hand (that the author of the book stolen by the gunman was then murdered) and what actually happens (the author of the book was some one completely different) which is confusing. The motive for the theft of the book is illogical, its effects counterproductive, and why steal it just when there happen to be people in the flat?Anyway, a fun read if you just go along for the ride.