The Crime Of Miss Jane Marple

I've done some research and have come to a startling conclusion that may force Scotland Yard to reopen dozens of murder cases. After reading several books and doing some thinking, I'm pretty sure that I've discovered that a famous women who is loved by millions across the world is, in fact, a cold-blooded killer.

Who is this murderous bitch, you ask? None other than Miss Jane Marple.

Oh, she was clever. She let her unsuspecting victims believe she was just some "old pussy" as the British used to say decades ago... a frail, somewhat gaga little old woman who wouldn't hurt a fly. She'd get herself invited to various country manors, or guilt her poor unsuspecting nephew Raymond into sending her on some cruise or vacation, and then she'd go to work. Oh, she'd appear to just be sitting there knitting, but she'd be plotting. Oh yes, she'd be plotting.

I started to suspect when it dawned on me that it strained the laws of probability to believe that Miss Jane Marple just happened to be on the scene of so many murders, at least twelve major "events", some of which had more than one murder occurring (the second and sometimes even third murder often occuring towards the end of the account, when one suspected that perhaps the author was running out of plot). What are the odds, I ask you, that one little old bitty would just happen to be on the scene of so many murders? They'd be pretty high if she was simply an innocent bystander. If she was really a serial killer, however, it all starts to make sense.

I noticed that even for an old lady Miss Marple took a lot of naps. I mean damn, she was always going off to her hotel room or bedroom or state room or whatever to doze for a couple of hours. Almost luncheon? Well, time for a quick nap. Lunch is over? Okay, time to snooze a bit until afternoon tea. Oh, we're going to go for a hike or excursion or play croquet after dinner? Fine, but first a bit of a lie-down is in order. I mean, come on.

Now why is this "dear" old lady sleeping so much? Is knitting that tiring? I think not. Rather, I think dear Miss Marple is not sleeping at all. No, I fear that when she professes to be napping she's really out garroting, shooting, or poisoning someone. It's the only logical conclusion.

I know this must be a shock to those of you who have always looked upon this monster as some sort of dear Aunt or something. However, facts are facts, and the sooner you realize that Jane Marple was someone who's true nature makes Hannibal Lector seem like a hungry boy scout, the better.

And don't get me started on that nosy Belgian...