After a decades-long stint in prison, former serial killer Carol is looking to kick back and relax in her new retirement home…until a fellow resident drops dead and Carol has to prove she actually didn’t do it this time….

Carol is delighted to be leaving her tiny prison cell behind to take her place in a luxury retirement home. She’s hoping her past as a serial killer won’t come to light so she can make a few friends and find some murder-free hobbies. But it’s not long before a fellow resident—who happens to be a former police commissioner—drops dead, and Carol’s true identity is leaked—making catching up over daily activities of bingo and baking rather awkward. 

Just her luck, Carol soon realizes that the victim wasn’t the only former law enforcement officer at Sheldon Oaks—it’s filled to the brim with former cops, barristers, and government representatives, her newfound friends included. And everyone thinks Carol’s guilt is a no-brainer, but she is ready to prove them dead wrong…without killing anyone, for once.

.

My Rating:

Favorite Quotes:

 

In London, you were never more than a few feet from a millionaire and a crackhead. In the case of some rockstars, you could find both housed in the same person.

Belinda tossed her hair around like an armless woman with nits.

Last night, after the excitement of Carol’s arrest, she’d had a slow dance with Geoffrey… To her surprise, she’d found herself rather liking it. That was until Geoffrey had started talking… It had been a shame because, until he’d started talking, Catherine had, in that moment, found herself rather attracted to Geoffrey. Companionship, human contact— they could be nice things to have. If she could just stop the man from opening his mouth. Perhaps she’d wait until Geoffrey showed signs of dementia and seduce him when he became mute.

“People look at us and think we’re just sitting around in nappies doing jigsaws. We’re not a hundred, you know! We’ve got get-up-and-go! Geoffrey and Catherine shagged yesterday!” Margaret spat out her tea… “I apologize if I’ve offended you. You are all very capable killers, I don’t doubt it.”

He’d always shaved his face, had a haircut once a fortnight, but hair from the shoulders down just grew as it grew, like an undisturbed patch of woodland on the edge of town. In old age it had grown into a white, cloud-like mound, like a small sheep… It was what it was. The men of today, they apparently trimmed, shaped, and some of them— he’d learned— even shaved.

In Jim, Desmond had a man at the center of a crime gang… And in Desmond, Jim had the man at the top of the Met. Together, they ran North London. Two cheeks of the same arse.

.

My Review:

 

Peals of laughter burst out of me several times during my gleeful perusal. I’ve never heard of Fergus Craig before, but I find myself wanting to amass and read all his previous and future books, as he has definitely been gifted with incredible wordcraft and crazy good word voodoo. I quickly fell under his spell and tumbled into a wryly amusing vortex populated with a uniquely curated collection of white-haired denizens sipping copious amounts of tea and gin and tonics while engaging in gossip, snooping on each other, and puzzling out a series of murders.

The writing style was fresh, nimble, thoughtfully insightful, observant, crisp, remarkably clever, delightfully witty, deliciously devious, and highly entertaining.

In a nutshell, it was fabulous and giggle-snort worthy.