Agatha Christie was right, old ladies make great detectives. Spies not so much with all the shooting and chasing. But great detectives and not for the reason one might think. AI may be threatening to take over the world. And I will admit I’ve seen some campaign commercials here in LA lately that absolutely speak to the brilliance and benefit of AI. Yet, sometimes things can’t be duplicated, even by great tech.

So how do old people beat AI? Oh sure there is wisdom that accompanies age, but it’s more. The skills it takes to be a detective are not the only advantage aging brings. It is the hard and extremely cold fact that old ladies are invisible. They can travel about unnoticed as they check out the clues quietly summing up the scene.

Now of course some are better than others.

However, there is a common denominator as they all live in small towns or villages, if you’re in England.

Yes, New York would be hard to navigate, although Jessica Fletcher did venture out of Cabot Cove occasionally.

However, the cases always involved someone in close proximity to her. A relative or neighbor.

Even Miss Marple couldn’t know everyone in New York. Nor I imagine would she want to. But that’s a blog for another day.

So what is it about older ladies, especially widows that seem to hone their investigative skills?

First and foremost, I imagine it’s because they are quiet. They listen and pay attention to details. So when a murderer is spouting a piece of evidence that directly links them to the crime, they actually hear and absorb that knowledge.

Unlike younger people that are so engrossed in social media they hear nothing. Save of course the blare of loud music or pings that signify a text has just come into their phone.

Older women also have years of watching people speak. They have developed a sixth sense about those who are lying, skirting the truth and avoiding the question.

Good information if you’re looking for a murderer.

They are also smart and know the questions to ask. For example. Someone in her village has come to enjoy a cup of tea.
Knitting needles come out, but this is merely a ruse because Miss Marple already has a plan. She has a list of questions she will inconspicuously ask to discern if the person is the murderer.

Yes, it’s just that easy apparently, to figure it all out. Sadly, the police are usually the last to know.

So she has poured the tea, offered the biscuits. And no, I have no idea why the British call cookies biscuits, another one of their supposedly charming quirks I imagine. Despite how heinous the killing, there is always time for tea.

The killer couldn’t be more at ease. Unsuspecting while sipping and munching in a haze of comfort around who they believe is someone totally harmless.

So as with anyone in that position, the guard is let down and a killer tends to slip up and let out a potential clue.

Aha! Marple attacks ever so cleverly. Knit one, purl two, knit one. “So, how are your hydrangeas doing?”

“Oh thank you for asking. They are much better now that you told me to use that special mix. They seem to be thriving. How did you figure that out?”

“Just something my mother used to do to help her garden when it seemed tired. Did you get the mulch at the florist I sent you to? He seems to have just the right mix to make the formula work?”

“Yes, I went there as you suggested.”

Marple is no fool and this was nothing about mulch of course. She is well aware the florist is closed for the month and on vacation with his family at the shore. Aha! She has uncovered a lie. So much for that alibi.

Now Marple must unearth the reason for this deception. Although she is already highly suspicious.

She backs off a tad knowing that after a lie, the killer will be a bit on guard.

“Did you hear the schoolmaster has accepted the job in Cornwall?”  She inquires ever so innocently.

“Yes, what a loss. I had him in first form when I was eleven. Such a wonderful man. A great loss for the entire village.”

Excellent, the killer is back at ease.

Marple strikes again.

“I should wonder they’ll have trouble finding a replacement. After all, one of those who would be considered was the victim in that dreadful murder.”

Marple looks up from under her specs and studies the killer’s reaction.

The killer flinches noticeably. She catches herself quickly, but not fast enough for Marple to have learned all she needs to know. She has determined the person she is with is guilty.

After a few other pointed questions Marple has what she needs to offer that murderer up on a bone china biscuit plate.

And she does so with humility and relish. Although inside of course she is aware she is much smarter than the authorities and can run circles around their skills any day of the week.

Yet she is nothing if not generous and humble. She wants the police to praise her skills and appreciate her help.

And although they consider her an old busy body, they are forced to admit, she’s got the goods.

The method and the ending never vary. Oh the murderer and victim may change, but Marple’s methods remain the same. Tea, biscuits, knitting needles and a few pointed questions then Bob’s your uncle.

Another case solved in one or two hours.

Only Agatha Christie could create a Miss Marple, because she was her in every way. A woman who understood the value of paying attention to details.

I suppose that’s why to this day people still love, read and reread her novels, watch her movies and refer to her as the undisputed Queen of Mystery.

Christie is a master of understatement and suspense. Unequaled in her ability to craft a convoluted mystery in a clever and interesting manner.

Guessing along and figuring out the killer is a source of pride for any mystery lover, and more reassurance the greats always do it best.

Brilliant? yes. An unassuming woman? Indeed.

Still the greatest of all time? You bet, and AI can put that in their pipe and smoke it. Knitting needles and all.