OK so this story doesn't have a plot that we know of so far, but each bit of information that's eeked out of nowhere by the press leads the imagination in different directions, like a good book. Of course, this is not a book, these are people's lives and deaths but you know what I mean. I saw three papers on Sunday that had three different theories on the front pages, one that Russian hitmen were involved, one that the it was a kidnap plot gone wrong, and the last that the father of the house had done it himself. It's hard to know which is the preferable outcome. Gruesome, but quite gripping stuff. One thing I do wish is that the kids who are leaving messages of tribute on the dead / missing girl's Bebo page would stop the really stupid spelling:
I can't belive that one of the bodys was your mam. RIP Jill Foster. I hope that the other body isnt your dad. An I hope they dont find any mor an your just havin a week somewer with your dad or sumink. Please be okay, otherwise I dunno wat ill doo. Plz b ok kirstie. We r all thinkin bowt u.
Maybe the spasticated writing gives the writer a sense of detachment, they can enter the cartoonish unthinking world of "boo i r sad" without having to write or think fully formed thoughts like "I'm sorry you're probably dead". Not that any of them had to write anything. Oh, neither did I.
On the topic of country house murders, I'm reading The Suspicions of Mr Whicher, it's the kind of book that gets written about major crimes and criminals like [abe]Jack the Ripper[/abe], but it's not a crime I was aware of. It's set in the mid nineteenth century, and there's a murder at a country house. It's a true story that seems to have been the basis for almost every detective story that was to follow, and the detective in this was a contemporary of [abe]Charles Dickens[/abe] and [abe]Wilkie Collins[/abe].