Bleeding Heart Yard: A British Cozy Mystery

By Elly Griffiths

A murderer strikes at a school reunion—but the students are no strangers to death— in this propulsive, twisty thriller from the internationally bestselling author of the Ruth Galloway Mysteries 

Is it possible to forget that you’ve committed a murder?

When Cassie Fitzgerald was at school in the late 90s, she and her friends killed a fellow student. Almost twenty years later, Cassie is a happily married mother who loves her job—as a police officer. She closely guards the secret she has all but erased from her memory.

One day her husband finally persuades her to go to a school reunion. Cassie catches up with her high-achieving old friends from the Manor Park School—among them two politicians, a rock star, and a famous actress. But then, shockingly, one of them, Garfield Rice, is found dead in the school bathroom, supposedly from a drug overdose. As Garfield was an eminent—and controversial—MP and the investigation is high profile, it’s headed by Cassie’s new boss, DI Harbinder Kaur, freshly promoted and newly arrived in London. The trouble is, Cassie can’t shake the feeling that one of them has killed again.

Is Cassie right, or was Garfield murdered by one of his political cronies? It’s in Cassie’s interest to skew the investigation so that it looks like it has nothing to do with Manor Park and she seems to be succeeding.

Until someone else from the reunion is found dead in Bleeding Heart Yard…

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins
• Release date: Nov 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9780063289307

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

Cassie

Is it possible to forget that you’ve committed a murder? Well, I’m here to tell you that it is. Not entirely, obviously. But, day to day, it just doesn’t register. Pete and I even had a phase of going to murder mystery parties. We’d get all dressed up and go to a friend’s house and act out a script. There would be cue cards, props, even background music. The setting was usually a country house or a Mississippi river boat. Something like that. I progressed from playing Miss Ellie, high-spirited daughter of Black Jack Roulette, to Mrs Beacham the cook. We’d start off in character but, as the evening progressed, everyone would get drunk and forget the clues. This rather irritated me. I like following rules.

The kids used to love playing Murder in the Dark. It really was a very easy party game and kept them quiet for ages. They would all shut themselves in the downstairs bathroom, about ten of them. The detective would be left outside, sitting disconsolately on the stairs. After a few minutes of giggling, a blood-curdling scream would ring out and the door would open to reveal someone lying on the floor between the loo and the basin. The law-enforcer would then have to solve the crime, sometimes with a little help from me. ‘That’s not fair, Mum,’ Lucy and Sam used to say.

The actual murder was so long ago that it genuinely seems to have happened to someone else. I suppose we all think of our eighteen-year-old selves as different people, but I could honestly look at pictures of the blonde, smiling girl and not recognise her. What did she think, who did she love, what music did she listen to? I simply couldn’t remember. Dissociation is a word I remember from my psychology degree. I think I once wrote the definition on a cue card. ‘A mental process where a person disconnects from their thoughts and feelings . . . often linked to trauma in childhood.’ But I never thought that it was possible to live so happily with this condition. Who was the girl in the school photos? Nothing to do with me.

But I wasn’t able to forget school completely. Pete went to Manor Park too and he was always going to reunions with members of the football and rugby teams. I even kept in contact with a few old schoolfriends. I didn’t much want to see them; I just wanted to know where they were. Pete sometimes asked me to accompany him to his get-togethers, but I always refused. ‘I don’t want to look back,’ I always said, ‘I want to look forward.’ Because the future was great. It meant the kids growing up, going to university, having families of their own. It meant Pete and me retiring, having more time and going on a round-the-world trip, doing the gap year that we couldn’t afford at the time. I loved the future. I just wasn’t so keen on the past.

‘Cassie deserves to relax,’ Pete’s mother used to say. ‘You shouldn’t nag her to go to the reunions. She’s got enough on her plate. What with her job.’

And that’s another thing you can do to forget. You can become a police officer.

1

Harbinder

Saturday, 21 September 2019

Harbinder Kaur looks out of the window of her rented flat. London, she thinks. The word conjures up a potent cocktail of images. Day trips with school, the smell of plastic and vomit on the coach, colouring in worksheets on the Tower of London, posing with waxworks of TV stars. Weekends with various girlfriends, West End shows and meals in Soho restaurants where neither of them understood the wine list. The occasional visit for work, she and Neil standing in a publisher’s office, bemused by books everywhere and by the existence of adults with names like Jelli. The London Olympics, the last time Harbinder had felt patriotic. The Fire of London. London Calling. Londinium. London Pride.

And now Harbinder lives in this enchanted, accursed place. She has a shared flat and a job as a detective inspector in the Criminal Investigation Department of the Metropolitan Police (Homicide and Serious Crimes Unit). To her not-so-secret delight she’s in charge of a Murder Investigation Team (MIT) based in West Kensington, W10, an area mysteriously called Dalgarno. She still can’t quite believe the speed with which all this has happened. One minute she was living with her parents in Shoreham, West Sussex, complaining about work and her colleagues, especially Neil, watching reruns of Bones every night and playing games on her phone. The next, she had passed her detective exam, applied for a new job, piled her few belongings into Neil’s brother’s van, and moved into the front bedroom of No 45 Barlby Road.

‘You’re a London girl now,’ said her mother when she kissed her goodbye. There was real awe in her voice, spoiled only by her saying, with her next breath, ‘You can always come back if it’s too much for you.’

‘Be careful in the big city,’ said her dad. ‘It’s not cosy like dear old Sussex.’ There was an edge of irony in his voice which wasn’t surprising considering that Harbinder had been involved with several high-profile murder cases in the supposedly safe seaside town.

‘I wouldn’t live in London,’ said Neil, who had kindly offered to drive the van.

‘Why?’ said Harbinder. ‘Too many brown people for you?’

‘No,’ said Neil patiently. ‘Too much crime.’

‘We’re police officers,’ said Harbinder, already terrified by the traffic on the South Circular. ‘We love crime.’

But she knew what he meant. London equals serious crime. Not just murder, which could be disappointingly mundane, but drugs, racketeering, gangs, human trafficking. The very worst of human nature, thought Harbinder, with a not unpleasurable shiver, as the van passed several boarded-up shops and a pub called Dr Crippen’s. Which was why, after a month in her new job, she was rather disappointed that her work had so far mostly involved attending meetings and learning new computer programmes. At least she had her own office, though, with ‘DI Harbinder Kaur’ on the door. She’d tried to take a selfie for Neil but hadn’t been able to get both her face and the sign in the picture. Her DS, Cassie Fitzherbert, sweetly offered to take a proper picture but the moment had passed.

Harbinder likes West London. Her flat is on the top floor of a solid terraced house in a long curving road leading down to Wormwood Scrubs. But there’s a pleasant park nearby and a variety of shops, cafés and restaurants. She likes walking the streets at the weekends, catching sight of herself in shop windows, striding along in her jeans and leather jacket. It’s September, a bright, clear autumn. Pumpkins are appearing in the shops and the tree outside Harbinder’s window is turning from green to amber to red, like a traffic light in reverse.

Harbinder may have been teasing Neil but it’s also nice to be in a multicultural city. The first time she saw Sikh men in turbans she thought that they must be her father or her brothers. It’s refreshing, and rather strange, not to be the only person of colour on the bus to work. She’s not the only woman of colour at the station either. Although she is the only DI.

Her flatmates are about as white as you can get though. Jeanne is Scottish, with red hair and almost translucent skin. Mette is Danish, tall and blonde, fearlessly riding a bicycle around the horror that is the Scrubs Lane Intersection. Jeanne is a teacher and Mette an architect. Harbinder doesn’t know them very well yet but the flatmates have been out for a pizza together and chat whenever they coincide in the kitchen. There’s no sitting room so they spend most of their time in their bedrooms. Harbinder doesn’t mind this but, sometimes, playing Panda Pop by the open window at night and hearing music from the flats opposite she does catch herself thinking: is this all there is to London?

Now, it’s Saturday evening and Harbinder is at her window again. She feels, not exactly homesick, she tells herself firmly, but slightly wistful. Yesterday, walking along the South Bank, watching the tourist boats going past and looking at the strange pieces of flotsam discarded by the Thames, she surprised herself by missing the sea. Harbinder is not a keen swimmer, or a beachcomber, like her friend Benedict, but she likes the way the sea is different every day, the way it doesn’t care how she is feeling but just carries on with its own elemental ebb and flow. She misses not being able to see the horizon. The Thames is too narrow and London sometimes feels too big.

But, if she were in Shoreham, listening to her parents argue about Britain’s Got Talent, she knows she would have felt trapped and rather pathetic. ‘Harbinder Kaur,’ the sardonic voice-over in her head would have intoned, ‘still lives at home at the age of thirty-eight. She’s gay but, although her parents know in theory, she has yet to introduce them to a girlfriend. Her main hobbies are arguing with her brothers and playing mindless games on her phone.’ Now, at least, the narrative is: ‘Harbinder Kaur, aged thirty-eight, is a detective in the London Met and shares a flat with two other female professionals.’ It doesn’t change the fact that she’s alone on a Saturday night though, listening to Mette’s TV through the wall, wondering whether it’s too soon to change into her pyjamas. Jeanne is out with her boyfriend.

Harbinder has actually had an invitation of her own. Kim, one of her sergeants, mentioned that the team were going out for drinks to celebrate someone’s retirement. ‘You should come, boss. It’ll be a laugh.’ Harbinder should go, she knows. She wants to show her colleagues that she may be a diminutive Sikh woman, but she enjoys a pint as much as the next Met detective. She’s also waiting for the right moment to come out to them. It’s harder than you’d think. She doesn’t want to make a big deal of it but if she leaves it any longer, they’ll definitely assume that she’s straight. The trouble is, she can’t casually mention a girlfriend because she doesn’t have one. The thought of an evening spent being the life and soul of the party whilst looking for an occasion to use the L word makes her feel depressed. She knows she won’t go.

Should she ring her mother? But, if she does, Bibi will only try to persuade her to go home for Sunday lunch tomorrow. Bibi is as obsessed with Sunday as any Catholic and insists on gathering as many of the family in one room as is humanly possible. Harbinder thinks of the flat above the family shop and her heart twists, even though she knows that, after half an hour with her brothers, she’ll be longing for the peace of her West London bedroom. She’ll have an early night and tomorrow she’ll go out and really explore London, go to some markets, eat exotic food, send some pictures to Neil. ‘Arancini are what we Londoners call rice balls.’ Thinking of food reminds her that she hasn’t eaten yet. What’s on her shelf of the larder? She thinks there’s some pasta and a tin of tomatoes. Harbinder is nowhere near as good a cook as her mum and, besides, she can’t face anything that reminds her of home.

After the rather tasteless pasta and several episodes of Bones, Harbinder judges that it’s late enough to go to bed. She considers having a shower and decides against it. The bathroom is freezing and there’s always the chance that she’ll bump into Mette, who doesn’t seem to feel the need to wear clothes much. Harbinder doesn’t know if this is to do with Mette being Scandinavian but it’s rather disconcerting and makes Harbinder feel like a prude in her cosy M&S dressing gown. She’ll just brush her teeth and get into bed. Harbinder is turning off her laptop when her phone rings.

It’s one of her sergeants, DS Jake Barker. Harbinder tries to call him to mind. Shortish, darkish, one of those accents characterised by Sussex-born Harbinder as ‘northern’.

‘Hi, Jake. What is it?’

‘Hi, boss.’ How Harbinder loves this form of address. She wishes she could use it as her ring tone. ‘We’ve had something called in. Unexplained death. I think you’d better come.’

‘Unexplained death?’ Not as good as a suspicious death but her Saturday is definitely looking up.

‘A man killed at a school reunion.’

‘Interesting.’

‘Wait till you hear who it is.’

‘I really don’t like waiting for this sort of thing, Jake.’

‘Garfield Rice. Garfield Rice MP.’

Even Harbinder, who is allergic to politics, has heard of him.

2

Harbinder

‘It’s Manor Park school,’ says Jake. ‘And you know what people who go there are like.’

Harbinder has no idea what they are like. She thinks of her old school in West Sussex, Talgarth High. It was often spoken of with horror by local residents, as if ‘Talgarth kids’ was shorthand for marauding Viking hoards. But it wasn’t such a bad place even though it had once been the centre of a murder investigation. Honestly, thinks Harbinder, what is it with these educational establishments?

‘I’m not from around here,’ Harbinder says now. Jake is driving them through the London streets with the ease of a native, although his accent doesn’t exactly scream ‘cockney’ to Harbinder. Cockneys are apparently people born within the sound of Bow bells. Whatever that is. Harbinder thinks it’s got something to do with a nursery rhyme. ‘Here comes a candle to light you to bed. Here comes a chopper to chop off your head’. Hardly the cosiest lullaby.

‘It’s one of those posh schools,’ says Jake, taking a shortcut through one of the old Peabody Estates, all high walls and sad squares of grass.

‘A public school?’ Harbinder has always thought it strange that, in England, public school means the opposite. It means very private indeed, inaccessible to anyone but the super rich.

‘No, it’s a comprehensive,’ says Jake. ‘But it’s where trendy lefties send their kids. Pop stars and actors. Labour politicians too. It’s free but you have to live in Chelsea, which means you’re probably rich enough to pay anyway. But you’re too mean or too right-on.’

There’s a lot going on here, thinks Harbinder. She knows that Jake is married with one child. Presumably, on a sergeant’s wage, he isn’t living anywhere near Chelsea. Maybe he’s just bitter because his offspring won’t be attending Manor Park and mixing with pop stars’ children.

‘What was Garfield Rice doing at this trendy school?’ she asks.

‘It was a reunion,’ says Jake. ‘I suppose he was a pupil there.’

‘And he was found dead in the loos?’ This much was on the call-out sheet.

‘Suspected drug overdose,’ says Jake. ‘It’ll be all over the papers.’

‘Vultures,’ says Harbinder, as she is expected to. But she is secretly hoping that her parents read about ‘DI Harbinder Kaur, who is in charge of the case . . .’

Manor Park is a disappointment at first. Harbinder had expected either a Gothic pile or a shiny modern building with tinted glass and a roof garden. This school was probably built in the sixties and consists of concrete blocks connected by iron walkways. In the dark the buildings seem to loom in a rather threatening way and the security lights isolate areas of grey grass and exposed brickwork. Two uniformed officers stand by the main entrance. Manor Park School. Headteacher: Sonoma Davies.

Harbinder shows her warrant card.

‘Where’s the deceased?’

‘Still in situ, ma’am.’ If there’s one thing Harbinder likes more than ‘boss’, it’s ‘ma’am’.

‘Have the paramedics been?’

‘Yes, they pronounced life extinct.’

That’s good news – it means Harbinder can get the scene of the crime team on the job at once.

‘We’ve asked everyone to wait in the library,’ says the PC. ‘Some of them are a bit upset.’

Given that their old schoolfriend has dropped down dead, Harbinder thinks this is likely to prove a bit of an understatement. Also, it’s nearly eleven o’clock at night and most of them are probably drunk. Grief-stricken as newts.

‘Lead the way,’ says Harbinder. She is texting SOCO as she walks.

Once again, the word ‘library’ is misleading. Harbinder is expecting a book-lined room, perhaps with oak panelling and window seats. The original library at Talgarth was actually very like this. The room Harbinder enters is simply another modern box with metal bookcases pushed against the walls. There are some fairy lights, though, and record decks, which indicate that the participants have been indulging in that most pathetic of activities – nostalgic disco dancing.

There’s no dancing now. The ex-students are sitting around the edges of the room. Most are silent although someone is sobbing on an eerily continuous keening note. A voice says, ‘Boss?’

Harbinder turns and sees her DS, Cassie Fitzherbert. She hardly recognises her at first. At work, Cassie wears her fair hair in a tight ponytail and favours dark, shapeless clothing. Now, with dishevelled blonde tendrils and a top that shows her shoulders and cleavage, she’s an entirely different person. An extremely attractive one, Harbinder is annoyed to find herself thinking.

‘Cassie. What are you doing here?’

‘I was at the reunion,’ says Cassie. ‘I went to Manor Park.’

‘Good,’ says Harbinder. ‘You can be useful. Unless you’ve had a lot to drink. You haven’t, have you?’

‘No,’ says Cassie. ‘I’m driving. My husband’s here too. It’s his turn to get drunk.’ It’s hard to know if she’s joking. She gestures towards a thickset man sitting with his legs apart, staring at the floor. He certainly has that pale, intent look that people sometimes get just before they throw up. Harbinder hopes he doesn’t do it here and contaminate the scene further.

‘Do you know the deceased?’ she asks Cassie.

‘Yes, he was in my year.’

‘Come with me. Jake, you stay and take names and addresses.’

Police tape criss-crosses the corridor outside. A body lies, half in and half out of a doorway. Harbinder can see dark hair falling over an incipient bald patch, an expensive-looking white shirt. She can’t see the shoes, which is annoying. Harbinder always takes notice of shoes.

‘Did anyone try to revive him?’ she asks Cassie.

‘Aisha. She’s a doctor.’

‘Can you ask her to join us, please.’

Aisha is a small woman wearing a hijab. At least she’ll be sober, thinks Harbinder, but then mentally chides herself for stereotypical thinking. People often assume – wrongly – that she doesn’t drink just because she has a Sikh name. It’s a nightmare getting a glass of Champagne at weddings.

But Aisha certainly doesn’t seem drunk.

‘Someone shouted to me that Garfield had collapsed,’ she says. ‘I tried CPR, but I knew almost immediately that it was useless.’

‘Did you move him at all?’ asks Harbinder.

‘I rolled him onto his back. That’s all.’

Harbinder leans over the body. She can see white powder caked around his nostrils.

‘Was he known to take drugs?’ she asks.

It’s Cassie who answers. ‘No,’ she says. ‘I would have said Gary was the last person . . . I mean, he was a real fitness freak, wasn’t he, Aish?’

‘Yes,’ says Aisha. ‘Always running marathons for charity.’ There’s something in her tone that makes Harbinder think that Aisha wasn’t the politician’s biggest fan.

‘Did anyone else touch the body?’ she asks.

‘No,’ says Aisha. ‘Apart from the ambulance crew. Cassie made everyone else wait in the library.’

‘Good work,’ says Harbinder. ‘SOCO are on their way. We’ll need to take your prints in order to eliminate them, Dr . . . ?’

‘Dr Mitri.’

‘In the meantime, let’s talk to the party-goers.’

Harbinder takes one last look into the room that contains the legs and feet. It’s a male lavatory, she can tell immediately by the smell. Garfield Rice was wearing pink Converse.

It’s a surprise.

As Harbinder turns to go back into the library, she hears sounds of an altercation outside. She catches the words ‘Deputy head’ and looks at Cassie.

‘Archie Flowers,’ says Cassie. ‘I completely forgot about him.’

The uniformed officer is barring the path of a bespectacled man who, even at this distance, looks sure of his rights.

Harbinder approaches with Cassie in tow. The man addresses Cassie first, they are obviously on first-name terms. ‘Cassie? What’s going on? I heard sirens. Can you tell this chap to let me in?’

‘This chap is a police officer,’ says Harbinder. ‘I’m DI Kaur. I’m in charge here. Who are you?’

‘Archie Flowers. Deputy head.’

Archie Flowers is wearing jeans and a blue jumper but still looks like a man in a suit. Harbinder wonders where he’s been for the rest of the evening.

‘This is a crime scene, Mr Flowers,’ she says. ‘We’re not letting anyone in this way. Come through the library and we’ll talk there.’

‘Do you know him?’ she asks Cassie, as they wait at the door of the library.

‘A little,’ says Cassie. ‘He’s been to one of Pete’s rugby weekends. I was surprised to see him tonight though. Sonoma, the head, was meant to be here. I don’t know why she wasn’t.’

Archie appears at the inner door, accompanied by Jake.

‘Thanks, Jake,’ says Harbinder. ‘I just want a quick word with Mr Flowers. How’s everyone holding up?’

‘They’re all very shocked,’ says Jake. ‘But not so shocked that they aren’t demanding to be allowed to go home. Can’t keep the au pair up too late.’ This last is said in an approximation of a posh female voice. Don’t take the one-man show to the Edinburgh fringe, Harbinder wants to tell him.

‘We can let them go home when we’ve got all their details,’ she says. ‘Now, Mr Flowers . . .’

She ushers the deputy into a small landing off the main corridor. A staircase leads upwards. Signs in French, German and Italian warn against running, or so Harbinder assumes from the accompanying artwork showing disembodied legs falling down steps. She isn’t much of a linguist.

‘Did you organise the event tonight?’ she asks.

‘No, Sonoma – she’s the headteacher – she organised it. She was a pupil here herself, you know. A very inspirational figure. But, at the last moment, she had to attend an event at her daughter’s school. So I said I’d step in.’

‘Did you actually attend the . . . er . . . party?’ It seems the wrong word for disco dancing in a school library, but she can’t think what else to call it.

‘No. I thought I would be in the way. I stayed in my office.’

‘Doing what?’

Archie blinks. ‘Watching a film on my iPad.’ He gives a Spanish title, overdoing the accent, in Harbinder’s opinion.

‘What do you know about Garfield Rice?’

‘Garfield? He’s one of our most prestigious alumni. Very generous too . . .’ Archie stops, realising, at last, the implications of the question. ‘Oh my God. Garfield isn’t . . .’

‘Garfield Rice has been pronounced dead at the scene,’ says Harbinder. ‘We’re treating his death as unexplained. I’m sorry. This must be a shock.’

Archie certainly looks shocked. Under the overhead light, his face looks almost green.

‘How did he die?’

‘As I say, his death is unexplained, as yet. Did you know Mr Rice personally?’

‘No. Just by reputation. I met him for the first time tonight.’

‘Do you know any of the other guests?’

‘Not personally. But there were some very famous names. It was quite a class, the class of 1998. Kris Foster, the pop star. The actress Isabelle Istar. Henry Steep, the Labour MP.’

These names mean nothing to Harbinder. She really must start reading the news instead of playing Panda Pop.

‘Are they all here tonight?’

‘Yes. They’re all still involved with the school. Mr Foster recently paid for a new music room. Henry Steep regularly takes pupils on tours of the House of Commons.’

‘How nice. Well, Mr Flowers, if you give me your details, you’re free to leave. We’ll be in touch in the next few days.’

As they walk back along the corridor, the scene of the crime team are arriving, massive in their white suits, like visitors from another planet.

3

Harbinder

Sunday

‘So, what do we know about Garfield Rice?’

Harbinder faces her new team in her new incident room. She’s not nervous, she tells herself, just apprehensive. After securing the scene last night, she got back to the flat at two a.m. After a few hours’ uneasy sleep, she went into the kitchen for toast and Marmite, her comfort food. To her surprise, Jeanne joined her at seven. ‘It’s a nightmare,’ she said. ‘I’m exhausted at the end of a week’s teaching but I can’t sleep in, even on

Reviews for Bleeding Heart Yard

[ccayne_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The plotting and writing are strong as is Harbinder Kaur, a new DI. I found some aspects of the case over wrought and not believable. That said, I couldn't put it down. Harbinder makes another appearance, I look forward to it.

[judiex · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Twenty one years after their high school graduation, a group of alumni from Manor Park School, get together with fellow graduates at their first reunion. The six, who had been close friends, include Garfield (Gary) Rice and Henry Steep, two Members of Parliament; Isabelle Istar, a famous actress; Kris Foster, a rock star; Cassie Fitzherbert, a police officer; Anna Vance, who had moved to Italy but returned to England to spend time with her dying mother; and a seventh, Sonoma Davies, Headteacher at Manor Park.The classmates have a shared secret. Soon after they finished their final exams, the body of one of their classmates, David Moore, was found near the train tracks. Because of traces of heroin on his nose and the presence of insulin in his body, his death was ruled accidental.But the members of the group know much more. David had raped and attempted to rape some of the girls. Their revenge was to get him to the abandoned train station and threaten him. It obviously went beyond that but was never thoroughly investigated.The evening of the reunion, the body of one of the members of the group was found near the loo in the school and the police, lead by Detective Inspector Harbinder Kaur, began it’s investigation. Another death soon follows.At the reunion, memories of David’s death brought them together again as they try to figure out what really happened then and now.The chapters are related primarily by Harbinder, Cassie, and Anna, each of whom has a different perspective.There is a lot of repetition, sometimes identical, sometimes not, throughout the book. Old relationships are rekindled, old memories reexamined.The ending is totally unexpected and somewhat unrealistic. One clue, that should have been spotted earlier is ignored. The switching from past tense to present tense and back again is confusing. The epilogue, a month later, briefly tells what happened to each of the characters since the crimes were resolved.

[rmarcin-630843 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This. is the 3rd book in the Kaur Harbinder sale. When friends reunite and remember their school years, they are concerned when another member of their group is killed. Harbinder steps in to investigate, and one of her officers, Cassie, is nervous, as she is one of the friends. She remembers that they all lured one of the boys to the railroad tracks where he died. They all kept quiet about it for years, but now, another of their group died suspiciously, and Cassie is distraught. Kaur tries to understand the connection to the bleeding heart yard, and scrutinizes the group's past. I enjoyed this one as much as I enjoyed the other Harbinder book I read. I am enjoying this series.

[laytonwoman3rd · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Not at all up to the standard I've come to expect from this author. I enjoy the character of Harbinder Kaur, and I hope Griffiths is not through with her. But she sure has more potential than was apparent in this one. At a high school reunion, a man who is now an MP turns up dead. This causes the usual shock, grief and suspicion among his old classmates, but it also stirs up memories of another death among them that happened in their last school year--a death precipitated by events that they all seem to remember differently. There are too many versions of that long-ago tragedy; too many pages devoted to multiple perspectives on it, none of which seem to be leading the reader anywhere; and too little "detecting" going on. It was never clear to me why the police should have taken any interest at all in a 15-year-old death that wasn't even considered suspicious when it happened. Any tension built up along the way was released in a fizzle, and the final reveal came out of the blue in an extreme example of the "it's the one person nobody even considered suspecting" technique, making 200+ pages of uncertain memories, inter-character action and police work (such as it was) totally irrelevant. Having finished the book, I recognize one clue that could have pointed to the actual killer, but the author and the police mostly dismissed it; maybe I should have picked up on it for that very reason, but it would have felt like a wild conjecture. Misdirection can be fun to spot and see through, but here it was just manipulation, so I feel cheated. I gave this title 2 stars, for the character development bits. Plot-wise, it was a full FAIL for me.

[nbmars · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is the third book in the author’s series featuring Harbinder Kaur, formerly a Detective Sergeant in the West Sussex, England Murder Squad, but now promoted to Detective Inspector in the Criminal Investigation Department of the Metropolitan Police in West Kensington, London. Harbinder, 38, finally moved out from living with her parents to take this job. Harbinder is peppery, witty, and very clever, albeit always feeling a bit out of place as a gay Sikh woman. She has not told her two flatmates in London she is gay. She gets along well however with Jeanne, a teacher from Scotland, and Mette, a tall Danish-born architect. But she is afraid to reveal who she really is.As the book begins, Harbinder and her team are called to investigate the murder of an MP, Garfield (“Gary”) Rice, while he was attending the 21st reunion of the class of 1998 from London’s posh Manor Park school. Harbinder is surprised to find one of her officers, Detective Sergeant Cassie Fitzherbert, was from the same class at the same school and also attended the reunion. Since Cassie was a witness, she could not be involved with the case.Harbinder soon focuses on a group of friends which included Gary Rice. All the members of his clique were at the reunion: Isabelle (“Izzy”) Istar, now a well-known actress; Henry Steep, also an MP; Chris Foster, now a famous band member; Anna Vance, a language teacher in Italy; and Cassie herself.The group is tied together not only by friendship, but by the death of fellow classmate David Moore at the end of their senior year. Since that time, at least some members of the group occasionally attended lunches with Rice at a dining club in "Bleeding Heart Yard" in Holborn. Moreover, shortly before his death Gary had received anonymous notes that read “bleeding heart,” a few of which also included a drawing of a heart with an arrow through it.There are plenty of tantalizing leads and red herrings, especially after another member of the group is found dead. Harbinder is only one of the narrators in the book; we get to see what happens with group members from multiple viewpoints.Evaluation: Fans of Tana French will be reminded frequently of the Dublin Murder Squad book, The Secret Place. It wasn’t the similarities in the story line so much, although both were set in elite schools, but the style of writing. It would have been hard for me to remember it was by Elly Griffiths, were it not for the occasional injection of very funny observations by Harbinder. At any rate, I consider any likeness to Tana French to be a very positive aspect of a book, and the combination with Griffiths’s slightly different strong writing points made for an excellent novel. One can’t help loving Griffiths’ recurring characters, and I can’t wait to read more about them.

[quondame · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The suspicious death at the 21st reunion of a class of a posh London comprehensive school is Harbinder Kaur's first case as a DI and though her viewpoint is important, the real drama comes from two women with very different memories of the tragedy 21 years before that might be the cause of this new death. I found the resolution less than satisfying, but enjoyed the read.

[smik_3 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

While this was written with the author's usual aplomb and skill, my main beef with the plot was the final resolution which felt plucked out of nowhere, and, looking back through the plot, I didn't feel there were many hints for the reader.The book developed Harbinder Kaur's career and her social life. Apart from that it told us that when something traumatic happens, most of us will not remember the finer details, or may even interpret them incorrectly.A good read. I recommend reading the two earlier books in the series first.

[brianewilliams · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

A brilliant police procedural detective novel. It's got an excellent story: good plot (a whodunnit), interesting characters (mostly likeable people), an atmospheric setting (contemporary London), and it moves along at a good clip. DI Harbinder Kaur is a standout. You are cheering her on to do a good job on her first major assignment in her new job and she manages to pull it off. An excellent read.

[lauralkeet · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Detective Inspector Harbinder Kaur, recently promoted to a position in London, is assigned her first high-profile case: a murder at a school reunion. The victim, a Member of Parliament, was part of a tight social circle during his school years. These classmates were all present at the reunion, and one of them might be the killer. The case may also have its roots in the death of a student during the group’s final days at the school. Harbinder immediately takes charge and assembles her team, but the reader is also privy to Harbinder’s inner monologue and personal life, where she struggles with the insecurities typical of someone new to their job and community. Readers are also privy to the memories and present-day actions of the victim’s classmates. A second death further complicates the situation. Elly Griffiths effectively led me by the nose to what I thought was a foregone conclusion, and I was beginning to feel frustrated by how obvious it was. But not to worry, there’s a twist! Griffiths has hit her stride in this third book featuring Harbinder Kaur, and I hope she continues to develop the detective and her London team in future installments.

[sandyamcpherson · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Oh come on Elly Griffiths, you can do better than this. While I certainly enjoyed The Postscript Murders in this series, the plotting in Book 3 is a disappointment, never equalling the wonderful twists and reveals of Book 2. Harbinder isn't the same feisty character. The biggest flaw was Griffiths' pulling illogical actions out of the blue and she evidently understood nothing about the limitations of using a hand gun to shoot at a distant victim. Not a satisfying story for me at all.

[pgchuis · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I enjoyed this, and read it in one sitting, although I did find the solution to the murders extremely unlikely and also entirely impossible for the reader to have guessed. I like Harbinder, and the sections about her new home life in London were interesting. The sections from the perspectives of Anna and Cassie were confusing, because the voices were identical and I had to keep checking whose chapter it was.

[foggidawn · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Detective Harbinder Kaur has just moved to London. She's now a Detective Inspector, and head of a murder squad. When her first case turns out to be the death of a prominent politician at his high school reunion, little does she expect that a member of her team will be closely involved in the case.This was as enjoyable as the other mysteries in this series. I wasn't sure that I would enjoy the London setting as much, but that wasn't an issue. I did feel that the halfhearted attempt to pull in her old friends from the last book in the epilogue wasn't particularly successful, but perhaps if I had just read that book and was still feeling more of an emotional attachment to them, I would have liked it better. All in all, a fun read. I think this could be read as a stand-alone, due to the change of setting.

[cathyskye · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I enjoy Elly Griffiths' writing so much that I'm beginning to think that her grocery lists should make the bestseller list, too. Many writers can "do" the mystery and the setting, but extremely few can combine those two elements with a finely crafted and multi-layered cast of characters. When you pick up an Elly Griffiths novel, it's a given that you're going to love, not just the main character(s), but the secondary ones as well. Bleeding Heart Yard is no exception.Although Griffiths never intended for the lesbian Sikh police officer to be a recurring character, I am thrilled that this is now the third book in which Harbinder Kaur has appeared. In Bleeding Heart Yard, she's been promoted and is now living in London with two roommates, a teacher and an architect. I enjoyed seeing how she works with her team-- Cassie, who must stay out of the investigation because she's a member of the group of school friends linked to the dead man; the empathetic Kim who has an encyclopedic knowledge of London restaurants; the not-so-bright Tory; and the manspreading Jake. The book is told from various points of view, but Harbinder's is the best. Her thoughts and observations illuminate her character, and they're often quite humorous. Before I forget, a trio of characters from The Postscript Murders makes an appearance here, and it gives me hope that we may see them again. (Remember what I said about Griffiths' genius for characterization?)Okay, enough about the characters. What about the mystery? Glory hallelujah-- I never saw the ending coming, and that's a rare occurrence for me. I love it when that happens, especially when I stop, think back, and can see where all the clues were planted. Clues that I ignored because I was enjoying the characters and the story so much.Do you have series burnout and just don't want to start at book one (The Stranger Diaries)? Bleeding Heart Yard works well as a standalone, so confusion should not be a problem. However, don't be surprised if you find yourself looking for the other two books, and if you're new to Elly Griffiths (I almost envy you), she also writes the splendid Dr. Ruth Galloway series. Don't miss Ruth or Harbinder!

[twink_2 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Bleeding Heart Yard is the third book in Elly Griffiths' Harbinder Kaur series. For me, it is Griffiths' characters that that have made me such a fan. Yes, Ruth Galloway is my fave, but Harbinder is a close second. She too, is not a cookie cutter character. She's 'real'and her personal life has been moving forward. I really like her inner dialogue. Her professional life is moving forward as well. She's landed in London with her own squad as a Detective Inspector. The squad is a mixed bag of new players - that I hope will become regulars.Harbinder's first 'in charge' case is a puzzle for sure. A MP is found dead at his school's twenty-first reunion. There are a number of suspects to choose from for the whodunit. But the focus ends up on the members of 'The Group' - an 'elite' group of students. It took me a few chapters to solidify who was who in the group, specifically the women. Bleeding Heart is written from a number of viewpoints - Harbinder's and group members Anna and Cassie. Anna and Cassie's past entries give the reader background, memories and motives - for each and every player. They're all hiding something. Present day chapters let us see how the investigation is proceeding, even as events from the past take on more of a motive for the current day crime. I did find the numerous interviews a bit repetitive.The settings descriptions are well drawn and I quite liked the lore behind some of them - especially Bleeding Heart Yard. I think Harbinder's change of locale will open up a lot of opportunities for future cases and plots. And for Harbinder's personal life! All in all, Bleeding Heart Yard is another great entry in this series. A little bit slower than the previous two books but still a very entertaining read. And a quick P.S. - that cover is fantastic!

[eyejaybee · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Elly Griffiths must be one of our most productive crime fiction writers, regularly publishing two books each year, without ever letting that level of output to compromise the quality of her novels. They always feel lovingly crafted rather than churned out, which is sadly the epithet so often unthinkingly applied to the output of prolific authors. She already has two well-established series, one following Dr Ruth Galloway, senior lecturer in archaeology at the University of North Norfolk, while the other follows stage magician Max Mephisto and Detective Superintendent Edgar Stephens as they unravel mysteries in Brighton during the 1950s and 1960s.However, Ms Griffiths has also embarked on another equally engaging series, of which this is the third instalment, following the cases of (now) Detective Inspector Harbinder Kaur. In her first two exploits she had been back in her native Sussex, but Harbinder has secured promotion and moved up to serve in the Met, based in West London. Still eager to establish herself in her new role, and not yet feeling properly established in London, she finds herself leading the investigation into the death of a prominent right-wing politician who has died in unusual circumstances while attending a reunion at his old school. To make things more difficult, one of Harbinder’s Detective Sergeants was a fellow pupil of the dead man and had also been at the reunion.It had clearly been a notable cohort of pupils in that year. The dead man’s friends back then had included pupils who would go on to become a leading actress, a successful rock star, the future headteacher of that very school, and another (Lib-Dem) MP. As Harbinder and the rest of her now-depleted team start to investigate, they uncover undercurrents of strong feelings left over from schooldays. And then another of the group is found dead in Bleeding Heart Yard.There are various strands of investigation which, as always, Elly Griffiths manages with great dexterity. She excels at creating characters that provoke fellow feeling – that is as true of Ruth Galloway and Edgar Stephens (and especially Emma Holmes) as it is of Harbinder. These are all characters whom I would be delighted to meet.