The best yet, for the simple reason that I beat Charles Paris, by a country mile, to the correct perpetrator. I was convinced that my suspect was going to become the next victim on the very next page but, no: I was right!

Once more, Mr Brett shows a great understanding of the theatre scene in the eighties. The story is riddled with detail that has the feel of accuracy. It is almost worth reading this series as a history.

Once more, as long as one suspends real life rationale, the plot hangs together well and I find myself repeating the 'excellent read' line, once again. ( )

It is 1983 and Charles Paris' acting career seems to have hit a new low. As the novel opens we find him curled up in a cupboard on stage playing the part of a corpse in the revival of a tired old play which opens the new season for the Rugland Players' repertory company, based at the long-established Regency Theatre in the sleepy town of Rugland Spa. Charles's sole appearance in Leslie Blatt's corny old mystery, "The Message is Murder" entails him being discovered in Act One, Scene One, when one of the other characters opens the cupboard causing Charles, in the part of the now late Sir Reginald De Maux, to tumble to the flood, his chest pierced by am ornamental sword.

The auguries are not promising at all. "The Message is Murder" had been written by Blatt in the 1950s, and sought to ride on the coat tails of the prevalent murder mystery made popular by Agatha Christie and her numerous imitators. However, having opened in regional theatres it had been withdrawn long before completing its eventual move to London's West End, and had not been heard of since. The Theatre itself is in decline, and there have been campaigns within the town for its site to be redeveloped to allow for a new shopping mall, sports centre and other more popular amenities.

On the opening night, Charles takes the word corpse too much to heart. Having had rather too much to drink earlier in the day he finds himself unable to stop sniggering at the fatuous clichés that pepper the archaic script, and unfortunately dissolves into laughter as his body is discovered, leaving the corpse of Reginald De Maux still convulsing on stage. As a crucial aspect of the plot depends upon Sir Reginald having been dead for several hours by the time his body is found, this serves to undermine still further an already struggling production.

Things are little better the following night when Charles, driven by self-loathing and self-recrimination, arrives at the theatre late (and clearly drunk), well after the customary "Half", to find that someone else was set to take his place. In a bid to salvage what little dignity he can still dredge up he pleads to be allowed to go on, and eventually does so. While waiting to be discovered, he starts to doze and slumps forward, and at just that moment a sharp skewer is pushed through the back of his stage cupboard, exactly where he would have been if he had not dozed off. It is clear that there had been a deliberate attempt to murder someone, though was he the intended victim? Because of his late arrival the majority of people in the cast and stage crew had expected that someone else would have been there.

This novel has all the characteristics of the other volumes in this engaging series. Humour and wry observation abound, bolstered by Brett's clear love of the theatre as an institution. Charles continues to charm as a well-meaning, though far from flawless, protagonist, and the plot is gentle, yet soundly-constructed, offering up a very entertaining story. ( )