The Letter

My dear Michael,

I’m not going to deny it, I’m worried. Strange things have been happening around here, stuff that nobody can explain. I don’t quite know how to tell you this without sounding insane, but I must try.

Do you remember Mrs. Jenkins? I wrote about her in my last letter to you. In case you have forgotten, she’s the sweet old lady whose cat I found in my garden last week. Anyway, the most unfortunate incident occurred, and somehow she’s been killed. I did the medical examination and it was quite obvious that she’d been murdered, but no-one can see how, as we found her in a locked room at the time. Most disconcerting.

If that wasn’t strange enough, Mr. Powell (you met him last time you visited) has also died. Everything was locked, and his brutally murdered corpse was in the house. We checked quite thoroughly and the killer couldn’t have escaped. Then we checked the house, but all we found was his cat.

I know that it sounds ridiculous, but people are saying that the cats are the killers. And with no other plausible theories, I’m starting to believe it. I know that it’s virtually impossible – there must be a logical explanation – but what is it? I mean, surely cats couldn’t kill people like that. My own cat Blackie is in the study with me right now as I write this letter. He’d never hurt me, he’s as harmless -----------------------