It’s 1971 and, in between filming seasons of Floggit and Leggit, ageing actors Edward Lowe and John Le Breton sign up for a short run of Shakespearean tragedies at the Bolton Playhouse. But, once in Lancashire, they discover they have been invited to join the theatre’s repertory company for two reasons – because the company manager is keen to take advantage of the publicity surrounding their successful BBC comedy series, and because Sir Nathaniel Thompson, the much-lauded star of the show and knight of the realm, has been sacked for drunkenness.
I reviewed the first book in this set last year here, and am very pleased to see Stuart Douglas’s Death at the Playhouses is more of the same and is a rollicking delight, a 1970s-set whodunnit that bursts with charm and keeps you guessing until the final curtain falls. The second installment in the Lowe and Le Breton Mysteries, this novel follows our intrepid duo—ageing actors Edward Lowe and John Le Breton—as they try to juggle both the spotlight and sleuthing, tackling a murder that unfolds in the shadow of a Bolton based theatre. When the recently sacked star of their show Sir Nathaniel Thompson turns up dead in an alley, bludgeoned and unceremoniously discarded, the pair dive into a case that whisks them from Bolton to the Netherlands, with a trail of clues and delves into the characters past.
As like the last book Douglas writes a story that’s both witty and warm, a perfect cozy mystery with a pace that clips along like a well-rehearsed farce. Lowe, the gruffly determined leading man, and Le Breton, his more laid-back foil, are an archetypical chalk and cheese duo. Their banter plays off well and the grounding of the mystery in camaraderie gives us something to root for. The 1970s backdrop adds to the cozy feel and the plot itself is a clever tangle of red herrings and revelations.
As before there are more than a few echoes of Dad’s Army in the duo’s dynamic, a subtle nod to the bumbling yet brilliant spirit of Arthur Lowe and John Le Mesurier. Douglas play on this less this time than in the first book I think meaning this is no pastiche but a tale that stands tall on its own merits. The supporting cast,from theatrical egomaniacs to a suspiciously involved ex-wife gives a brilliant “also starring” vibe.
Death at the Playhouses is just good fun, it’s a mystery that invites you to go back in time to the 1970s and enjoy the unlikely duo. Douglas has kept winning formula from the first book, take two unlikely heroes, toss in a juicy murder, and season with just enough humour. It’s the kind of book that leaves me eager for the next act in this delightful series. More soon please!