Mystery
![Richard Osman - [object Object] author](https://res.cloudinary.com/readsomnia/image/upload/authors/a_B074KL81KM.jpg)
The Bullet That Missed: A Thursday Murder Club Mystery
INSTANT NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER
A new mystery is afoot in the third book in the Thursday Murder Club series from million-copy bestselling author Richard Osman.
"The quartet of aging amateur sleuths…remain wonderful company," -the New York Times Book Review
"The Bullet That Missed hits on every front." -the Wall Street Journal
It is an ordinary Thursday, and things should finally be returning to normal. Except trouble is never far away where the Thursday Murder Club are concerned. A decade-old cold case-their favorite kind--leads them to a local news legend and a murder with no body and no answers.
Then a new foe pays Elizabeth a visit. Her mission? Kill or be killed. Suddenly the cold case has become red hot.
While Elizabeth wrestles with her conscience (and a gun), Joyce, Ron, and Ibrahim chase down the clues with help from old friends and new. But can the gang solve the mystery and save Elizabeth before the murderer strikes again?
From an upmarket spa to a prison cell complete with espresso machine to a luxury penthouse high in the sky, this third adventure of the Thursday Murder Club is full of the cleverness, intrigue, and irresistible charm that readers have come to expect from Richard Osman's bestselling series.
A new mystery is afoot in the third book in the Thursday Murder Club series from million-copy bestselling author Richard Osman.
"The quartet of aging amateur sleuths…remain wonderful company," -the New York Times Book Review
"The Bullet That Missed hits on every front." -the Wall Street Journal
It is an ordinary Thursday, and things should finally be returning to normal. Except trouble is never far away where the Thursday Murder Club are concerned. A decade-old cold case-their favorite kind--leads them to a local news legend and a murder with no body and no answers.
Then a new foe pays Elizabeth a visit. Her mission? Kill or be killed. Suddenly the cold case has become red hot.
While Elizabeth wrestles with her conscience (and a gun), Joyce, Ron, and Ibrahim chase down the clues with help from old friends and new. But can the gang solve the mystery and save Elizabeth before the murderer strikes again?
From an upmarket spa to a prison cell complete with espresso machine to a luxury penthouse high in the sky, this third adventure of the Thursday Murder Club is full of the cleverness, intrigue, and irresistible charm that readers have come to expect from Richard Osman's bestselling series.
Editorial Reviews
Praise for The Bullet That Missed:
"Osman concocts a satisfyingly complex whodunit full of neat twists and wrong turns. But unlike most crime novelists, he ensures his book's strength and momentum stem not from its plot or its thrills but rather its perfectly formed characters. Once again, the quartet of friends makes for delightful company… Heartwarming and enthralling. ‘They carried a kind of magic, the four of them,' a policeman muses. That magic is still there in abundance."
-Washington Post
"The Bullet That Missed hits on every front. Its quandaries stymie, its solutions thrill, its banter is worth reciting and its characters exemplify an admirable camaraderie. One can only hope that the Thursday Murder Club's next outing appears before long."
-Wall Street Journal
"The Thursday Murder Club is back, and that should make everyone happy - except, of course, murderers. Richard Osman's engaging series about a group of crime-solving retirees has delighted readers since the first book. The Thursday Murder Club, an international bestseller, was funny, original, baffling, poignant and thoroughly engaging. That's a high bar to set from the get-go, but Osman has easily achieved it in subsequent books… This book is as delightful as the others. A remarkable achievement, Osman up there effortlessly balancing on that very high bar."
-Minneapolis Star-Tribune
"Not to be missed."
-Parade
"Charming."
-People
"The mysteries are complex, the characters vivid, and the whole thing is laced with warm humor and-remarkably, considering the body count-good feeling. Your next must-read mystery series."
-Kirkus, starred review
"Bestseller Osman's diverting third Thursday Murder Club mystery (after 2021's The Man Who Lived Twice) delivers laughs along with a nicely woven plot....The pace is breezy, the characters are intelligent and varied in their interests and backgrounds, and the humor is often pitched to readers who understand the vagaries of getting older. Osman reliably entertains."
-Publishers Weekly
"It's charming and, as always, will leave you guessing the murderer until the v...
"Osman concocts a satisfyingly complex whodunit full of neat twists and wrong turns. But unlike most crime novelists, he ensures his book's strength and momentum stem not from its plot or its thrills but rather its perfectly formed characters. Once again, the quartet of friends makes for delightful company… Heartwarming and enthralling. ‘They carried a kind of magic, the four of them,' a policeman muses. That magic is still there in abundance."
-Washington Post
"The Bullet That Missed hits on every front. Its quandaries stymie, its solutions thrill, its banter is worth reciting and its characters exemplify an admirable camaraderie. One can only hope that the Thursday Murder Club's next outing appears before long."
-Wall Street Journal
"The Thursday Murder Club is back, and that should make everyone happy - except, of course, murderers. Richard Osman's engaging series about a group of crime-solving retirees has delighted readers since the first book. The Thursday Murder Club, an international bestseller, was funny, original, baffling, poignant and thoroughly engaging. That's a high bar to set from the get-go, but Osman has easily achieved it in subsequent books… This book is as delightful as the others. A remarkable achievement, Osman up there effortlessly balancing on that very high bar."
-Minneapolis Star-Tribune
"Not to be missed."
-Parade
"Charming."
-People
"The mysteries are complex, the characters vivid, and the whole thing is laced with warm humor and-remarkably, considering the body count-good feeling. Your next must-read mystery series."
-Kirkus, starred review
"Bestseller Osman's diverting third Thursday Murder Club mystery (after 2021's The Man Who Lived Twice) delivers laughs along with a nicely woven plot....The pace is breezy, the characters are intelligent and varied in their interests and backgrounds, and the humor is often pitched to readers who understand the vagaries of getting older. Osman reliably entertains."
-Publishers Weekly
"It's charming and, as always, will leave you guessing the murderer until the v...
Readers Top Reviews
BethNervyLadyAndr
It's funny, people can figure out things at any age and someone may change their ways.i hope there is another book coming soon. I will miss Alan until then.
driftwood dancerB
Loved this story, as much of more than the two previous ones.
DSdriftwood dance
Richard Osman has created a charming, witty and sometimes hilarious series full of colorful characters and twists and turns to keep the reader guessing until the last page. Cannot wait until Book Four.
ASDSdriftwood dan
This is a simple story written with a creative structure. The characters are a bit lightly developed and the story ends with an odd outcome, however an enjoyable read when time is aplenty.
Justine WittichAS
He continues the thread of all his characters and presents another beautifully convoluted plot with lots of side trips. A real delight.
Short Excerpt Teaser
1.
I don't need makeup," says Ron. He's in a straight-backed chair because Ibrahim told him you mustn't slouch on television.
"Do you not?" replies his makeup artist, Pauline Jenkins, taking brushes and palettes from her bag. She has set up a mirror on a table in the Jigsaw Room. It is framed by lightbulbs, and the glow bounces off her cerise earrings as they bob back and forth.
Ron feels the adrenaline pumping a little. This is the stuff. A bit of TV. Where are the others though? He told them they could come along "if they fancied, no big deal," and he will be gutted if they don't show.
"They can take me as they find me," says Ron. "I've earned this face, it tells a story."
"Horror story, if you don't mind me saying?" says Pauline, looking at a color palette, and then at Ron's face. She blows him a kiss.
"Not everyone has to be beautiful," says Ron. His friends know the interview starts at four. They'll be here soon surely?
"We're agreed there, darling," says Pauline. "I'm not a miracle worker. I remember you back in the day though. Handsome bugger, weren't you, if you like that sort of thing?"
Ron grunts.
"And I do like that sort of thing if I'm honest with you, right up my street. Always fighting for the working man, weren't you, throwing your weight around?" Pauline opens a compact. "You still believe in all that, do you? Up the workers?"
Ron's shoulders go back a touch, like a bull preparing to enter a ring. "Still believe in it? Still believe in equality? Still believe in the power of labor? What's your name?"
"Pauline," says Pauline.
"Still believe in the dignity of a day's work for a fair day's pay, Pauline? More than ever."
Pauline nods. "Good oh. Then shut your mush for five minutes and let me do the job I'm paid to do, which is to remind the viewers of South East Tonight what a looker you are."
Ron's mouth opens, but, unusually for him, no words come out. Pauline starts on his foundation without further ado. "Dignity, my arse. Haven't you got gorgeous eyes? Like Che Guevara if he worked on the docks."
In his mirror, Ron sees the door to the Jigsaw Room open. Joyce walks in. He knew she wouldn't let him down. Not least because she knows Mike Waghorn will be here. This whole thing was her idea, truth be told. She chose the file.
Ron notices that Joyce is wearing a new cardigan. She just can't help herself.
"You told us you weren't going to have makeup, Ron," says Joyce.
"They make you," says Ron. "This is Pauline."
"Hello, Pauline," says Joyce. "You've got your work cut out there."
"I've seen worse," says Pauline. "I used to work on Casualty."
The door opens once again. A camera operator walks in, followed by a sound man, followed by a flash of white hair, the quiet swoosh of an expensive suit and the perfect, masculine yet subtle scent of Mike Waghorn. Ron sees Joyce blush. He would roll his eyes if he wasn't having his concealer applied.
"Well, here we all are, then," says Mike, his smile as white as his hair. "The name's Mike Waghorn. The one, the only, accept no substitutes."
"Ron Ritchie," says Ron.
"The same, the very same," says Mike, grasping Ron's hand. "Haven't changed a bit, have you? This is like being on safari and seeing a lion up close, Mr. Ritchie. He's a lion of a man, isn't he, Pauline?"
"He's certainly something or other," agrees Pauline, powdering Ron's cheeks.
Ron sees Mike turn his head slowly toward Joyce, slipping off her new cardigan with his eyes. "And who, might I ask, are you?"
"I'm Joyce Meadowcroft." She practically curtsies.
"I should say you are," says Mike. "You and the magnificent Mr. Ritchie a couple, then, Joyce?"
"Oh, God, no, my goodness, the thought, no, heavens no. No," says Joyce. "We're friends. No offense, Ron."
"Friends indeed," says Mike. "Lucky Ron."
"Stop flirting, Mike," says Pauline. "No one's interested."
"Oh, Joyce'll be interested," says Ron.
"I am," says Joyce. To herself, but just loud enough to carry.
The door opens once again, and Ibrahim pokes his head around. Good lad! Only Elizabeth missing now. "Am I too late?"
"You're just in time," says Joyce.
The sound man is attaching a microphone to Ron's lapel. Ron is wearing a jacket over his West Ham shirt, at Joyce's insistence. It is unnecessary, in his opinion. Sacrilegious, if anything. Ibrahim takes a seat next to Joyce and looks at Mike Waghorn.
"You are very handsome, Mr. Waghorn. Classically handsome."
"Thank you," says Mike, nodding in agreement. "I play squash, I moisturize, and nature takes care of the rest."
"And about a grand a week in makeup," says Pauline, ...
I don't need makeup," says Ron. He's in a straight-backed chair because Ibrahim told him you mustn't slouch on television.
"Do you not?" replies his makeup artist, Pauline Jenkins, taking brushes and palettes from her bag. She has set up a mirror on a table in the Jigsaw Room. It is framed by lightbulbs, and the glow bounces off her cerise earrings as they bob back and forth.
Ron feels the adrenaline pumping a little. This is the stuff. A bit of TV. Where are the others though? He told them they could come along "if they fancied, no big deal," and he will be gutted if they don't show.
"They can take me as they find me," says Ron. "I've earned this face, it tells a story."
"Horror story, if you don't mind me saying?" says Pauline, looking at a color palette, and then at Ron's face. She blows him a kiss.
"Not everyone has to be beautiful," says Ron. His friends know the interview starts at four. They'll be here soon surely?
"We're agreed there, darling," says Pauline. "I'm not a miracle worker. I remember you back in the day though. Handsome bugger, weren't you, if you like that sort of thing?"
Ron grunts.
"And I do like that sort of thing if I'm honest with you, right up my street. Always fighting for the working man, weren't you, throwing your weight around?" Pauline opens a compact. "You still believe in all that, do you? Up the workers?"
Ron's shoulders go back a touch, like a bull preparing to enter a ring. "Still believe in it? Still believe in equality? Still believe in the power of labor? What's your name?"
"Pauline," says Pauline.
"Still believe in the dignity of a day's work for a fair day's pay, Pauline? More than ever."
Pauline nods. "Good oh. Then shut your mush for five minutes and let me do the job I'm paid to do, which is to remind the viewers of South East Tonight what a looker you are."
Ron's mouth opens, but, unusually for him, no words come out. Pauline starts on his foundation without further ado. "Dignity, my arse. Haven't you got gorgeous eyes? Like Che Guevara if he worked on the docks."
In his mirror, Ron sees the door to the Jigsaw Room open. Joyce walks in. He knew she wouldn't let him down. Not least because she knows Mike Waghorn will be here. This whole thing was her idea, truth be told. She chose the file.
Ron notices that Joyce is wearing a new cardigan. She just can't help herself.
"You told us you weren't going to have makeup, Ron," says Joyce.
"They make you," says Ron. "This is Pauline."
"Hello, Pauline," says Joyce. "You've got your work cut out there."
"I've seen worse," says Pauline. "I used to work on Casualty."
The door opens once again. A camera operator walks in, followed by a sound man, followed by a flash of white hair, the quiet swoosh of an expensive suit and the perfect, masculine yet subtle scent of Mike Waghorn. Ron sees Joyce blush. He would roll his eyes if he wasn't having his concealer applied.
"Well, here we all are, then," says Mike, his smile as white as his hair. "The name's Mike Waghorn. The one, the only, accept no substitutes."
"Ron Ritchie," says Ron.
"The same, the very same," says Mike, grasping Ron's hand. "Haven't changed a bit, have you? This is like being on safari and seeing a lion up close, Mr. Ritchie. He's a lion of a man, isn't he, Pauline?"
"He's certainly something or other," agrees Pauline, powdering Ron's cheeks.
Ron sees Mike turn his head slowly toward Joyce, slipping off her new cardigan with his eyes. "And who, might I ask, are you?"
"I'm Joyce Meadowcroft." She practically curtsies.
"I should say you are," says Mike. "You and the magnificent Mr. Ritchie a couple, then, Joyce?"
"Oh, God, no, my goodness, the thought, no, heavens no. No," says Joyce. "We're friends. No offense, Ron."
"Friends indeed," says Mike. "Lucky Ron."
"Stop flirting, Mike," says Pauline. "No one's interested."
"Oh, Joyce'll be interested," says Ron.
"I am," says Joyce. To herself, but just loud enough to carry.
The door opens once again, and Ibrahim pokes his head around. Good lad! Only Elizabeth missing now. "Am I too late?"
"You're just in time," says Joyce.
The sound man is attaching a microphone to Ron's lapel. Ron is wearing a jacket over his West Ham shirt, at Joyce's insistence. It is unnecessary, in his opinion. Sacrilegious, if anything. Ibrahim takes a seat next to Joyce and looks at Mike Waghorn.
"You are very handsome, Mr. Waghorn. Classically handsome."
"Thank you," says Mike, nodding in agreement. "I play squash, I moisturize, and nature takes care of the rest."
"And about a grand a week in makeup," says Pauline, ...
