MISS MAPLE INVESTIGATES

Dear Reader,

After my successful tying up of all the loose ends in the Berryfields case  (Oh, did I forget to tell you? Chris Beardshaw did it) I find I am now commissioned with a new purpose. 

A new anonymous letter-writer has ventured amongst us in St Midsomer de Blogueville, this time using one of those new-fangled formats to deliver their missives. 

All around are people asking "Who is this is 'Executive Gardener' who doesn't dig and who doesn't even have a garden?". "Next you will be telling me," they say, "that this EG planted a load of alliums on their balcony last year and they never came up." 

I would never do such a thing. 

We possess only three true clues to this person's identity. I think all that stuff about the spade is, frankly, huffing and puffing. To my mind, I think we only need to know three things:

1) their favourite drink is a skinny latte

2) their favourite book is Rebecca

3) their favourite film is The Hours

That, my dear friends, is undoubtedly a girl. Only girls would qualify on all those counts at once. 

Unless of course it's a very clever man, saying all the things he knows a girl would say. Oh dear, oh dear, now I am a little confused. It does remind me of the time that the Butler at the Old Hall entered for the Tombola at the village fete. Of course, he didn't know that Mrs Jenkins was determined to win it. Oh dear, oh dear, what things can go on in little villages. 

Yours as ever, 

Miss Maple

xxx