The Impossible Fortune (Thursday Murder Club, #5)

by Richard Osman

If you want to know the actual cost of a human life, it’s somewhere around twenty-seven thousand pounds. But no tax or VAT. For the obvious reasons.

Trouble is much like love: when the time is ready, it will find you.

Murders are all well and good, but who does he have?

Every minute is precious when people won’t pay you a living wage.

Life isn’t all about solving murders, fun though it is. Sometimes you have to help people before they’re dead.

I will never be Elizabeth. But, then, she will never be me. Perhaps I have my own job to do.

unconditional love has a huge flaw. If you love me no matter what, who I actually am doesn’t matter. If someone loves your essence, your very being, what can you do to make them love you more or love you less? Nothing: there is no space. So the only option left to you is to continually prod at that unconditional love, to test it and stretch it, to mock it even.

In the end there was no money, and in the end no one really killed Holly. She was killed by her own greed.