The Last Devil to Die (Thursday Murder Club, #4)

by Richard Osman

They should have got here much earlier, but, as they’d arrived, there had been a long argument with a woman who said she was from the Coopers Chase Parking Committee and Garth, knowing when he had finally met his match, had had to park back out on the main road.

I’ve been shagging a key witness, which makes us all about even, I’d say.” “How do you feel about him being thrown off a car park?” asks Donna. “I suspect I’ll move on,” says Jill. “Thank you both for saving my job.”

Six thousand years old, can you believe that? Made from bone, not terra-cotta. And carved with the eye of the devil.”

Those clever Afghan boys were smuggling a box worth tens of millions into the country, Mitch, and they never even told you. That’s why everyone’s killing everyone. No one cares about your hundred grand.”

“It was under my sink for a few days, but it started to smell quite musty. Alan didn’t like it one bit, so I put it out for the binmen yesterday,” says Joyce. “It’ll be at the Tunbridge Wells tip by now.”

I love her so much

As so often when people think they are going to be able to get things from us, he left disappointed. Tea, biscuits, a good gossip? Yes, we will provide you with those. Money, heroin, diamonds? No.

The heroin wasn’t the issue at all. It was the box. It’s six thousand years old, and it protects you from evil or something along those lines. Though it is doing a fairly bad job of that, I would say.

I told them I had put the box out for the binmen and

wait was she lying?

Mitch Maxwell went as white as a ghost—you could see clean through him. He ran. For his life, I suppose. Garth took it in good part and said, “Them’s the breaks,” which is a fun expression, and then we all had a cup of tea. He said how well he thought we had handled everything, and if we ever needed a job to come and talk to him. Then he and Elizabeth spoke for a while and I left them to it.

I think that, since I’ve stepped up a bit after Stephen’s death, I’ve been surprised at what I’m able to do. Elizabeth rubs off on me in a very good way. I hope I rub off on her in a good way too.

told her I didn’t mind her saying that one bit. Because when Garth had revealed to us the secret of the box—the fact that the box I’d been keeping under my sink was highly illegal and worth millions and millions of pounds—it’s true, I did make my mind up quickly. To tell them I had left it out for the binmen.

!!

Elizabeth says she now has a good idea who murdered Kuldesh, and the box will help to prove it. And she also has one other plan for it.

wait Nina??

“Stephen spoke about a museum in Baghdad,” says Elizabeth. “He rarely wasted words, even when they were easier to come by. He and Kuldesh must have identified it between them.”

want the box to go to Baghdad,” says Elizabeth.

“And I want Stephen’s ashes in it.” “His ashes?” “He as much as asked me,” says Elizabeth. “I realize that now. So, once we are done here, I will be taking the box back with me, and I will be keeping it until those arrangements are made and are acceptable to both parties.”

what a clever man Stephen was. part of the club and they didn't even know

How young they all are, though many of them will feel old. How beautiful they are, though how ugly

some of them will feel.

How young and beautiful she was, how old and ugly she felt. She feels young and beautiful now—Stephen made sure of that. Made sure she understood who she was.

Elizabeth lies back and looks up at the sky too. At the clouds. Stephen isn’t up there, but he is somewhere, and it’s as good a place as any to find him. To find his smile, and his arms, and his friendship and his bravery. Elizabeth starts to cry, and, through the tears, gives her first small smile since that awful day.

Six thousand years old. And people still thought they were important.

We are all tiny insignificant blinks in history, in a world that couldn’t care a hoot if we live or die.

Valiant efforts all, but everyone knows, deep, deep down, that life is both a random occurrence and a losing battle. None of us will be remembered.

“There never seem to be any consequences for Elizabeth,” and then remembers himself. Grief scares him, Elizabeth’s grief particularly. To see her laid so low. To see that there was an iceberg finally able to sink her. You have to be so careful with love, that’s Ron’s take on the thing.

past a red-eyed woman pushing a stroller. He places a hand on her shoulder and says, “It’ll get easier, you’re doing a great job,” and walks on.

“Get yourself some food, pops,” he says. Garth finds kindness interesting. It’s not really his thing, but Samantha would have spoken to the mum, and would have given the old man money for food, so that’s the sort of thing Garth will do from now on.

“Hey, Nina,” he says.

girllll

he had a client who would pay handsomely for it. Which is actually true, but Garth knows he is not getting the box. Elizabeth wants it, and when she told him why, he happily agreed. Garth’s reward is seeing his wife’s killer go to jail. Ideally he would like to kill her, but Elizabeth is a bit too canny to let him get away with that. You have to know when you’ve met your match.

Samantha would have loved it, he knows that. They’re crazy, all of them, Samantha, Nina, Kuldesh. Childish, getting so excited about a box. Garth got excited about how much the box was worth, sure, but not about the box itself. So someone made it a long time ago? Get over yourself. So it has the eye of the devil? Ain’t no such thing, Garth knows that. The devils walk among us.

“This box was six thousand years old,” says Nina. “Can you even begin to comprehend that? None of us matters, Garth. We pretend that we do, we pretend that we have a purpose, but this planet existed without us for millions of years, and it will exist for millions of years more without us. Every breath we take is a dying breath. Human life isn’t sacred.”

His life ended quickly, which is all you can ask for, isn’t it? A long life and a quick death, that’s the dream. I did him a favor.”

Kill people, sure, if they’ve done something wrong. If they deserve it. But for profit? No.

But Luca had killed plenty of other people. And if you kill plenty of people, you’ve got to expect someone’s going to throw you off a car park one day. One day someone will throw Garth off a car park, or run him down with a truck, and Garth won’t have any complaints. But Kuldesh didn’t deserve to die.

“My whole life I’ve had a good attitude and been poor,” says Nina. “Now I have a bad attitude, and suddenly I’m rich.”

the way it goes really

“And yet here we are, dear,” says Elizabeth. She turns to Garth. “And where will you go now?” “Spain,” says Garth. “I love the tapas. You be careful with your grief now, take your time with it.” “I will,” says Elizabeth. “And you stop killing people.” “Only bad guys, ma’am, I promise,” says Garth.

“Then I’ll start screaming too,” says Elizabeth. “And, believe me, I may never stop.”

is somewhere below freezing, a sheeting rain is falling, and Mitch Maxwell is clambering up an enormous pile of waste at the Tunbridge Wells tip.

omggg okay I feel like 2% bad for him

“I promise you it’s quicker just to accept it, ma’am,” says Donna. “It honestly saves so much time.”

If he flies back to Afghanistan, he will be killed too, and so, on reflection, Hanif will stay in London, out of Sayed’s reach. The heroin trade has been a steep learning curve, not to mention very, very lucrative, but perhaps it is now time to take what he has learned and do something new? Fresh start, clean sheet, no regrets.

Caroline kills people for Connie, always has done. If you need her, you call the number for a launderette in Southwick and ask for a service wash. She’s quick, she’s reliable, and she’s a breath of fresh air in a traditionally male-dominated industry.

In truth she knows. Of course she knows. She has lied to Ibrahim. Worse than that, she has used him. She had wanted to say sorry when he left the other day, but she doesn’t yet have the words. Connie is not sure she has ever said sorry and meant it.

But the images of Garth keep getting replaced by images of Ibrahim, his kind eyes and his gentle soul. His belief in her. She tries to concentrate on guns, and drugs, and chaos, but Ibrahim’s kindness is stronger.

The box, that simple little box, which once held the spirits of the devils, then held a big bag of heroin, then contained my drain unblocker, multi-surface polish and bin bags, now contains Stephen’s ashes. Jonjo flew over to Iraq with it. It’s on his Instagram. I didn’t know professors were allowed Instagram.

Elizabeth is going to fly over there next month. She promised Stephen they would visit together one day. She

Coopers Chase is full of widows and widowers. Falling asleep with ghosts, and waking up alone. You have to soldier on, and Elizabeth will do that. Of course not everyone here assisted in the death of their partner, but, between you, me and the gatepost, there are more than you’d think. Love has its own laws.

They told us that Mitch Maxwell died looking for the box at the tip. You live by the sword, you die by the sword.

I don’t fear it. I fear pain, but I don’t fear death.

same

I realize I’ve had a kettle full of diamonds and a microwave full of heroin recently, so you never know what it might come in handy for one day.

Ibrahim has been quiet. I think he finds being around sadness very difficult. I think he takes it all very personally, loads it onto his own shoulders. I get sad when others are sad, of course I do, but life will give you enough sadness of your own to be getting on with, so you must be careful. Sometimes you just have to slip your big coat off, don’t you?

The daffodils are out very early this year. I’ve seen the daffodils bloom for nearly eighty years now, and they are still a miracle to me. To still be here, to see the flowers that so many other people won’t see. Every year, poking their heads up to see who’s still around to enjoy the show.

That’s the thing about Coopers Chase. You’d imagine it was quiet and sedate, like a village pond on a summer’s day. But in truth it never stops moving, it’s always in motion. And that motion is aging, and death, and love, and grief, and final snatched moments and opportunities grasped. The urgency of old age. There’s nothing that makes you feel more alive than the certainty of death. Which reminds me.