M is for “Murder at the Vicarage” by Agatha Christie. Agatha Christie has long been a favourite of mine. I love the little English villages where Miss Marple puts her understanding of human nature little play to find out who dunnit. And I like the quirkiness and idiosyncrasies of Hercule Poirot, the Belgian private detective.
“Murder at the Vicarage” has a fine bunch of characters- a dull vicar who has married a beautiful vivacious woman who had her pick of men, that same vivacious wife, a despised colonel (the victim), a painter, an archeologist and three old spinsters, one of whom is Miss Jane Marple solving her first case.
Agatha Christie has tried several tricks in deceiving us as to who the murderer is- in one book everyone dies so it is a supposedly dead person who is the murderer; in another the narrator did it ( this was considered breaking the rules); in a third everyone was involved: and in this book – ALERT SPOILER – in this book the two people who confess at the beginning and are cleared, are actually the murderers.
This is not one of my most satisfying in terms of clues but it is still a good read for a lazy afternoon.