Saltmarsh Murders

to-day. A nice, rather weak-chinned youth. I also met the rest of the vicarage household. A jolly little boy of fourteen or so, a remarkably beautiful young girl at whom the curate casts the most ridiculous sheep’s eyes the whole time—bless their hearts!—and the vicar. Heigho! The devil a monk would be! Took some pains to stir up Mrs. Coutts in order to test her reactions. She is absolutely unhinged on the subject of sexual relationships, and the vicar is horribly ill at ease. It would be quite in order to suspect that he is the father of the illegitimate child at the inn. Mrs. Coutts has seen that child, I am certain. Poor woman! She is in hell.

July 29th: The girl was a maid-servant at the vicarage when the child was conceived. There can be no reasonable doubt of the vicar’s implication. How tragic, and how immeasurably absurd!

My other patient, Mrs. Gatty, was rather extraordinarily amusing yesterday. Somebody locked her poor husband in the church crypt and she didn’t want him released. There is another queer specimen in Saltmarsh, and that is Mr. Edwy David Burt, up at the Bungalow. And even our Mr. Burns is betraying unsuspected depths. I believe he has given up sighing for the moon (i.e. Margaret Kingston-Fox) and is consoling himself with a nice piece of cheese to whom I have not been able to fix a name. What a scandal-mongering old woman I am! It’s living in the country does it! Well, well!

August 2nd: My fat little exhibitionist excelled herself to-day. Very funny indeed.

August 4th: Village life is too exciting for me. Spent most of the night hunting for the vicar, only to discover to-day that he was chained up in the pound. Burt, of course, assisted by the negro servant. The same mental groove as the “Gatty in the crypt” incident. Out-Gattying Mrs. Gatty, in fact. No wonder the poor boy doesn’t make a fortune at his job. No imagination. There is something startlingly reminiscent of crime in this banal repetition. I suppose Burt didn’t murder that poor girl yesterday?

August 6th: No, no! It couldn’t be Burt. Why has Cora McCanley disappeared from the Bungalow? It is getting serious. What shall I do?

August 17th: Where is Cora McCanley? Of course it is Mrs. Coutts, but, poor woman, she is not responsible for her actions. The attack on little Daphne proves it. What on earth shall I do? She can’t go on killing people. Besides, I could not prove anything at present, even if I decided to inform the police. But there is no other solution to this frightful business.

Motive

Opportunity

Psychological factors.

All fit. But the woman is clever. All her wits about her at present. Terrified of discovery, too. Take the facts.

1. Meg Tosstick.

A. Time of the murder—9.0 p.m. to 10.30 p.m. on the night of Saltmarsh fete. Ideal opportunity. Everyone absent from the inn except those who were actually on duty all the time.

Question arises here. Did Mrs. Coutts commit the murder with her own hands, or did she prevail upon this poor boy Candy to strangle the girl? My mind is open at present, but if she incited Bob, what was her argument, I wonder? He would have killed Meg long enough ago if the fact of her seduction were sufficient to account for the murder. Shall get Wells to visit Bob and get his account of the way in which he spent the Bank Holiday.

And now for Burt. Indecent literature, I presume. Otherwise why was Burt so angry when the vicar seemed interested in Saltmarsh Cove, whose very name is associated with smugglers? Burt is a “literary man,” so smuggled books would be more in his line than smuggled beer. Psychological factor here, too. Besides, the landlord of the Mornington Arms has a secret of his own already, I fancy, and wouldn’t risk breaking the law.

Shall take a strong line with Burt. Probably get myself thrown into the stone quarries. Heigho! These violent inhabitants of peaceful villages!

August 20th: Wells just returned from visiting Candy in prison. Do not think Candy had any hand in the murder.-In any case, Mrs. Coutts responsible, I am certain, because the thing comes to its head with the attempt on Daphne Coutts in the church. No one but Mrs. Coutts could have known

1. That Daphne was to be playing the organ that evening,

2. Where to find key of vestry,

3. That she would not excite suspicion if seen entering or leaving church at that time.

Of course, her husband would fit most of the evidence, but his psychological make-up quite wrong. Besides, if he had intended to kill Meg Tosstick he would have done it to save his face, i.e. before the birth of the baby. This applies to all males including Candy unless somebody—e.g. Mrs. Coutts—told Candy that Meg’s seducer was the negro servant at the Bungalow. That might be the explanation if Candy committed the murder. Must find out attitude towards the Colour Question among villagers. Must get my invaluable Boswell, Captain Hastings, Doctor Watson, Noel Wells on to it. Child has a head like a turnip. I do not think the Bar suffered any great loss when he went into the Church. Nice enough youth, though. Little Daphne will do as she pleases with him.

August 24th: The village has made up its mind. The vicarage attacked to-day and the service disorganised. The vicar accused of being the father of Meg Tosstick’s baby. Demands made for the production of the baby. I see Mrs. Coutts’ hand in all this. On Saturday she produced a notice printed on the back of one or two of the Gattys’ visiting cards which (presumably) have been left at the vicarage in times past. The notice reads: “Where is Meg Tosstick’s baby?”

The printing is rough enough, but the word “is” and the fact of the apostrophe “s” being in the right place, and the even more illuminating fact that Mrs. Coutts “discovered” these remarkable notices when nobody else was in the house, point clearly enough to their authorship. Anonymous writings are a feature of cases like hers. Sexual disorder, coupled with the mania for putting one’s suspicions of others on to paper, very characteristic.

But what about Cora McCanley? Where has Mrs. Coutts hidden the body? She is the wife of the vicar. She ought to want a dead body buried in consecrated ground. That means the churchyard. Yes, but she can’t have it buried. She murdered it. And there is no trace of it. Where could she put it? Well, that depends upon where she killed it.

Bransome Burns used to go for long lonely walks… I was pretty sure he was Cora McCanley’s lover when he found that Margaret despised him.

Later: I’ve frightened him. He thinks I think he murdered Cora, and he’s told me