The cast and crew of a hit British TV show are rumored to be cursed—but are these spooky deaths coincidences or murder? It's up to Bath detective Peter Diamond to find out. In the six years since the start of the hit British TV show Swift , its cast and crew have been plagued by misfortune, beginning with the star actress’s pulling out of the show before it began. By now there have been multiple injuries by fall, fire, or drowning; two deaths; and two missing persons cases. The media quickly decides it’s a curse, but who’s to say there isn’t a criminal conspiracy afoot? Now that the filming has moved to Bath, Peter Diamond, Chief of the Avon and Somerset Murder Squad, is on the case. While the investigation into one fatal accident is underway, a cameraman goes missing, challenging even the most credulous to wonder if he might have been the victim of foul play rather than a jinx. How can so many things go wrong on one set in such a short time? Complicating already complex matters is the fact that Diamond’s boss is trying her best to get him out of her hair; he may be forced to retire if he can’t solve the case. Will this be the end for Peter Diamond? Praise for Showstopper “More than 30 years into this series, Lovesey shows no signs of losing steam or ingenuity.” — Publishers Weekly , Starred Review Praise for Peter Lovesey “Mr. Lovesey excels at mixing character-driven humor with legitimate suspense.” — The Wall Street Journal “Lovesey is careful to remind us that Bath holds hidden secrets behind its gracious Georgian architecture . . . Light and dark imagery is a fixture of Lovesey’s Bath novels, in which life is lived on many levels, some in full sunshine and others buried in shadow.” — The New York Times Book Review “Lovesey is the real deal.” — Seattle Times “With Peter Lovesey in the world, why does anyone else bother writing mysteries at all?” — Mystery Scene Magazine “Peter Lovesey’s storytelling skills, and certainly his gift for constructing a fair play puzzle, match those of the finest exponents of Golden Age fiction.” —Martin Edwards “We're treated to Lovesey's enchanting style . . . urbane wordplay and sucker-punch plotting. Don't believe anyone who says, ‘I knew it all along.’” — Booklist Peter Lovesey is the author of more than thirty highly praised mystery novels. He has been named a Grand Master by the Mystery Writers of America and has been awarded the CWA Gold and Silver Daggers, the Cartier Diamond Dagger for Lifetime Achievement, the Strand Magazine Award for Lifetime Achievement, the Macavity, Barry, and Anthony Awards, and many other honors. He lives in Shrewsbury, England. 1   The old lady lifted a black velvet bag from her sewing box, loosened the cord and took out a silver Smith and Wesson revolver. With a smile any other old lady would bestow on a new grandchild, she murmured, “Little beauty.” Then, slick as a gunslinger in the Old West, she twirled the weapon twice around her trigger finger, turned at surprising speed, steadied her grip with her free hand and took aim at her reflection in the dressing table mirror. Three explosive bursts came not from the gun, but the corner of her mouth. She held the pose for five more seconds.     “And cut. Well done, Daisy.”      “Is that it?” the old lady enquired.      “That’s it, darling—and a very good ‘it,’ as always.”      “Am I free to go?”      “For you, Daisy, it’s a wrap.”      Daisy Summerfield glanced up at the control room and smiled her thanks. Her contribution to another season of the TV crime series Swift was over. She handed the gun to one of the young people on the crew, who returned it to the bag and stowed it away. They’d done her a huge favour, fitting in her extra scene when the call sheet said she’d be filming again in the morning. The end of each day was supposed to be for re-shooting small mistakes, known as pick-ups. Her scene was a solo one and she had made sure she needed only one take.      She was well pleased. Instead of spending another night in the hotel, she was going home. Richmond, in Surrey, was more than two hours’ drive from the Bottle Yard studios in Bristol. Vicky, the ever-reliable production assistant, would order a car and by the time Daisy had cleaned off the makeup and changed into her own clothes her driver would be waiting.      The gun-twirling trick had taken hours of practice with an imitation weapon they’d given her, a perfect replica of the Smith and Wesson. She had professional pride in getting things right. She hadn’t ever handled a firearm before getting the role of Caitlin Swift’s ex-gangster mother. The casting director had looked at her slightly arthritic fingers and asked if she was willing to take it on. “What’s the problem?” she had said. “I’m a professional. I won’t let you down.”      The first part of her career had been stage work. Only in her late forties had she started in television with a small part in Coronation Street i