Peter Lovesey – 1936-2025

Peter Lovesey was a towering figure in the crime fiction landscape. He won many awards for his fiction – including not only the CWA Diamond Dagger, the highest honour in UK crime writing, but its American equivalent, the Grand Master of the MWA. He was a member of the CWA’s Hall of Fame, and winner of Gold and Silver Daggers. He was also a former Chair of the CWA. And as anyone who met him will readily confirm, he was one of the kindest and most generous people you could ever hope to meet.

I first met Peter at a CWA conference, back in the late 80s, and we became firm friends. He was one of a Fab Four of highly successful writers who were all born in 1936 and who all become good friends with each other. The other members of the group were Reginald Hill, Robert Barnard, and Peter Walker (creator of Heartbeat amongst other things). Peter Lovesey was the last survivor of this unforgettable quartet. 

I first came across Peter’s name when I read his early Sergeant Cribb novels while still in my teens. The Cribb books were televised, with Alan Dobie in the title role, and Peter always paid tribute to the contribution that his wonderful wife Jax made to Cribb’s success. She encouraged him to enter a competition for a debut crime novel, at a time when he was a full-time teacher, and the author of one book, The Kings of Infinite Distance, about athletics – which remained a great passion of his. Jax was, Peter told me, more of a crime fan in those days than Peter, but he took to fiction like a duck to water and Wobble to Death, Cribb’s debut, won the prize and launched a career of remarkable achievement.

He changed periods to write The False Inspector Dew, which enjoyed huge success, and then again to write three humorous mysteries about Bertie, the Prince of Wales. There were stand-alones, including On the Edge, which became a TV film, and eventually the long-running and very popular series set in modern Britain featuring Bath cop Peter Diamond. The final Diamond novel, Against the Grain, published towards the end of last year, was a wonderfully entertaining way to bring the series to a conclusion. His powers as a crime writer never diminished.

He loved writing short stories and he was a master of that particular craft; his stories won awards and one was televised in Tales of the Unexpected. Despite his success and many commitments, I always knew that if I approached Peter and asked if he had time to contribute a story to a book I was working on, he would oblige. Not only that, he would write an absolutely terrific story. And he did this time and again – amazing. His inventiveness was fantastic, and it never flagged. He also contributed great pieces to two of my non-fiction collections, Truly Criminal (a CWA anthology of true crime stories) and Howdunit. This year saw the publication of Playing Dead, which includes a very clever story by Peter paying tribute to Simon Brett, ‘Just a Minute’. The summer will see republication of another of his stories in Then There Were More, a collection of high-calibre stories from past CWA anthologies. Just a few weeks before his death, he wrote a marvellous story for me called ‘Magic Moments’, intended for an anthology I’m currently working which is in aid of autism charities in the US and UK. I believe it is the last story he ever wrote and you can be assured that it is just as enjoyable as you would hope.

I had the great pleasure of compiling and editing an anthology of original stories by members of the Club in honour of Peter called Motives for Murder, for which the legendary Len Deighton wrote a foreword. I was able to present the book to Peter at a memorable dinner at the Dorchester when many of his friends and family were present. The book, incidentally, includes a terrific memoir by Peter himself about his life as a Detection Club member, while four of the stories were listed for the CWA Short Story Dagger, and Len Tyler’s won the award. 

I have many happy memories of time spent with Peter, far too many to recount right now, and I enjoyed interviewing him when he was a guest of honour at CrimeFest and joining him for a celebratory dinner. Ali Karim’s video of the event can be found here.

Just over two years ago, I received an email from Peter breaking the news that he’d had a terminal diagnosis. It came as a great shock, not least because despite the passing years he always looked so fit and well. What he said was so characteristic that I must quote it: ‘I find it difficult to handle sympathy, which is why I’ve kept my news to a small circle of friends. I know I’ll be in your thoughts, but I’ll feel sorry for myself if you tell me so. I’ll be happiest if like George Smiley, you read the contents of this and act as if you hadn’t received it. I’ve had 86 marvellous years and actually I’m still quite positive, eating well and getting about.’

Despite the diagnosis, he did remarkably well, and when he was up for a visit, we had a great day together in Shrewsbury. He said the doctors were amazed by how well he was doing and that he was regarding it as ‘a period of grace’. I spent a lot of time with him in his library, admiring his awards and book collection. I also admired (and envied) the way he was so organised. He could put his finger on any file – and there were lots of them – and know what was in it (this high level of efficiency, by the way, was reflected in the way he dealt with any writing commissions – very impressive, right to the very end.) 

He kept writing, because he loved writing and I’m sure it contributed greatly to his contentment in recent times, as did his positive mind-set. We were in regular touch, but kept the focus on fun stuff rather than his state of health. And then I received an email from him inviting me back to Shrewsbury, saying ‘make it soon’. So of course I went – and believe me, I’m very glad I did.

He was extremely frail, but in remarkably good spirits. He was very much enjoying the company of his daughter and grand-daughter, who had come over from the United States to be with him. He and I both knew it would be our last time together and it was an extremely poignant and emotional occasion for me, as I believe it was for him

Peter has left a wonderful legacy in the shape of so many fine novels and stories. He is a great loss, above all to Jax and the rest of the family, including his son Phil (another extremely talented writer, by the way), as well as to his many friends around the world. I’m privileged to have been one of them.

 — Martin Edwards