Wednesday 2nd August, 1939 

The murder weapon has been found; an iron jimmy, discovered hanging innocently on the wall of the garage. The murderer did a fine job of cleaning it of blood, leaving only one or two specks to be found, and replaced the jimmy amongst Ales’ tools. No fingerprints were lifted but Mrs Blair identified Ales as the gentlemen she had witnessed fleeing the garage.

This seems highly unlikely, unless Mrs Blair has developed an abnormal ability to see in the dark. She is clearly mad with grief over the loss of her lover, and determined that someone, anyone, should hang. I just cannot see why Ales would commit such an atrocious act.

Poor fellow. It seems so unreal, as though we are all playing parts at the theatre. If we were, then I am certain this is merely the end of Act 2. I refuse to think of this as the final act, drawing the curtain as Ales swings in a noose. Let us change the scenery and return to the story.

I was accosted once more by Miss Luton this afternoon, and she let slip the most curious detail about Mr Marek’s late wife that I have not been able to shake.

“… One can’t help but wonder if poor Mrs Marek would have put a stopper in the works, should she still be alive.”

I enquired as to why.

“Well my dear, because she was one of us!” – (by this I assumed she meant English) – “Had she not fallen down those ruddy pub stairs, she would have put an end to Josef’s ridiculous escapades with – ”

Fallen down the stairs, indeed! I was not acquainted with Mrs Marek. I remember her death, of course, being that it occurred only two years ago, but Unc merely informed me at the time that she had passed away, with no details regarding how or why. But now I am aware of it – she had slipped on a spilt drink while hurrying about during one of her shifts, fallen, and broken her neck. When isolated this death appears a simple accident. An everyday tragedy that no-one blinks an eye at. But coupled with the death of another Marek… surely it requires further investigation?

The pub. The Bull’s Head. Albert was thrown out of there during his stay, having drunk the barrel dry and offered himself to the landlord in payment. I thought it highly amusing. Unc did not agree.

Shall pop by the pub tomorrow and see if I can sniff out any evidence of false play. Perhaps I should inform Unc of my intentions? No. He is far too busy. No sense in troubling him.

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