The local dramatic society provides fertile ground for murder in the brand-new Fethering mystery When Jude agrees to lend her vintage chaise lounge for the local Amateur Dramatics Society's production of George Bernard Shaw's The Devil's Disciple, little does she realize she'll end up in a starring role. It's an ambitious play, culminating in a dramatic execution scene: a scene that's played for real when one of the leading actors is found hanging from the especially-constructed stage gallows during rehearsals. A tragic accident - or something more sinister? Carole and Jude make it their business to find out. “Brett's chatty and totally enjoyable 15th series entry is a breezy diversion, perfect for readers who enjoy British comic mysteries” ― Library Journal "Readers are treated to a cunningly crafted mystery" ― Booklist Starred Review "The motive when finally revealed is hilarious" ― Publishers Weekly Simon Brett worked as a producer in radio and television before taking up writing full-time. He is the author of the much-loved Fethering mysteries, Charles Paris series and the Mrs Pargeter novels. In 2014 he was awarded the Crime Writers' Association's prestigious Diamond Dagger for sustained excellence and contribution to crime writing. He lives in an Agatha Christie-style village in the South Downs. The Strangling On The Stage A Fethering Mystery By Simon Brett Severn House Publishers Ltd. Copyright © 2013 Simon Brett All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-78029-542-8 CHAPTER 1 'And the trouble is,' said Storm Lavelle, 'it's just total murder.' 'What is?' asked Jude. 'My life. Everything.' Storm Lavelle was stretched out on the treatment table in the front room of Woodside Cottage in the seaside village of Fethering. It was February, cold outside, but snug with the open fire in Jude's front room. The scent of aromatic candles on the mantelpiece mingled with the smell of burning wood. Storm had in theory come for a healing session, though Jude knew by experience she was basically there to unload the latest aggravations of her life. Which was fair enough. Jude also knew that listening was frequently as effective as any other form of healing. The irony was that Storm Lavelle also practised as a healer, and she was the ultimate example of where the 'healer, heal thyself' principle broke down. Though very good with her clients, impressing them with her calm and stability, Storm was actually as mad as several container-loads of frogs. Her volatile personality ensured that she skittered from one alternative therapeutic cure-all to another. It was remarkable that she'd stuck with the healing, though it was now only as a practitioner rather than a patient. Storm had long since decided that healing was inadequate to her own needs, and embarked on courses of reflexology, kinesiology, homeopathy, naturopathy and any other 'ologies' or 'opathies' that came to her attention. She had also dabbled in a wide range of leisure activities. Many of these were fitness-related. Within the previous couple of years Storm had, to Jude's knowledge, tried Aerobics, Aqua Aerobics, Padel Tennis, Pilates and Zumba. She had also taken up macramé, bird watching and bridge, and joined a choir. None of this worried Jude or stood in the way of the two women's friendship. Her attitude to her fellow human beings reflected a line that had once been quoted to her, the view of someone called Joe Ancis that 'the only normal people are the ones you don't know very well'. And beneath all Storm's traumas and dramas, Jude could recognize an honest, caring person whose only fault – if indeed it was a fault – was to get both too deeply and too shallowly involved with everything. This applied particularly to Storm Lavelle's love life. As with alternative therapies, she also skittered from relationship to relationship. And in each one she made the same error, believing wholeheartedly that at last, after all of her past failures, she had found the perfect man on whom to lavish all of her affection. Invariably the men, frightened by the intensity of this passion, soon wanted to disengage. And Storm's heart would be broken once again. It wasn't that she was unattractive, far from it. She was in her forties, some ten years younger than Jude, but unlike her friend, didn't carry a spare ounce of weight anywhere. This was partly due to the cocktail of diets and health fads that she followed, but the traumas of her frequent break-ups also played their part. She had innocent, pained blue eyes and was a natural blonde, though that original colour was very rarely in evidence. Storm was as fickle with new hairstyles as she was with everything else in her life. That day her hair was cropped short and coloured a striking aubergine. She was dressed in black leggings and a sloppy yellow T-shirt. The precision of her make-up made her look almost like a geisha girl. Jude sometimes wondered where her friend's name had come from. Surely no parents wou