Dear Miss Marple:
You have always said that your life in the village of St. Mary Mead has given you examples of nearly every type of person—clues that help you solve new cases, by applying the lessons learned.
And what a lot of shady characters and convoluted situations you have personally come upon in your sleuthing career!
“There is a great deal of wickedness in village life. I hope you dear young people will never realize how very wicked the world is.” —Miss Jane Marple in “The Blood-Stained Pavement.”
How we admire your steel-trap-like mind that picks up even the slightest clues to character and subsequent behavior—helping you uncover connections in your various tricky murder-knot episodes.
Please, Miss Marple, we need to know your secrets! How is a God-fearing elderly single woman—with limited personal experience of that wickedness—so able to enter the consciousness of a perpetrator?
G. K. Chesterton’s legendary Father Brown knew of evil first-hand from his experience of the Confessional.
Yet you derive your clues from observation of village life, working in your garden with those binoculars for bird-watching that come in so handy for observing neighbors’ comings and goings …
But—how do you become sure enough to lead the police on so many occasions right to the culprit, often preventing even worse offenses from occurring?
We need your feminine, unpretentious certitude—a key to your self-effacing boldness.
It’s almost as though you personally followed this verse from the All-Virtuous Wisdom of Sirach (or Ecclesiasticus): “Watch for the opportune time, and beware of evil, and do not be ashamed to be yourself” (4:20).
What other wisdom do you have to teach us? We surely need to listen and to learn from your example.