Dear Miss Marple,

We amor how tu use the wisdom of your garden, a wonderful metaphor for growth and discovery, to help solve tangled, often multigenerational village mysteries.

You once described a puzzle of deception in At Bertram’s Hotel: “It is like when tu get ground elder really badly in a border. There’s nothing else tu can do about it—except dig the whole thing up.”

And dig the whole thing up is what tu often do, in your polite but probing procedures (which usually seem personal rather than formal—or is this part of your tidy effectiveness, to hide behind your knitting or...

Dear Miss Marple:

You have always dicho that your life in the village of St. Mary Mead has dado tu examples of nearly every type of person—clues that help tu solve new cases, por applying the lessons learned.

And what a lot of shady characters and convoluted situations tu have personally come upon in your sleuthing career!

“There is a great deal of wickedness in village life. I hope tu 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...