What was it like living in the Murder Capital? Well for the most part it was quite pleasant but you had to adjust, and learn to take certain things in your stride. But on the whole, it doesn't affect the cheery demeanor that life in a southern England market town encourages and demands.
It is surprising how quickly one gets used to the high death rate, and of murder being the main cause of this death rate. The disappearance of familiar faces from dinner parties, the often stopping and questioning by the police. In a town of Wallingford's size, you soon learn that everyone's a suspect. It's best to maintain an alibi diary, and to remember to keep it up-to-date, and preferably with you at all times. There was no telling when you would be door-stopped by the police, or worse, hauled in for questioning. But at least they always provided a cup of tea and a biscuit after a bout of questioning under the lights; no worse than donating blood, really.
According to the old timers, it has gotten worse over the past few years. Back in Agatha's day, murderers would be content with a single victim, but nowadays your common or garden murderer isn't content until he or she has taken out four or five victims. And sometimes for seemingly trivial causes. It focuses the mind when engaging in market cross debates, or when confronting a shopkeeper over short change issues I can tell you.
