and Corder had undertaken to find her lodgings in Ipswich. Her delayed return was not regarded as ominous or alarming.
After a fortnight, the Martens began to wonder where Maria had got to. Mrs Marten pressed Corder for an explanation. He said she was safe and well and that he had lodged her some distance away, so that his friends would not discover the fact of his marriage and be annoyed with him. Corder used this style of answer repeatedly when the Martens wanted more news of their daughter.
In September Corder said he was unwell and visiting the Continent for the sake of his health. Before he went, he expressed concern that the Red Barn should be well filled with stock, and he saw to it himself; it is not clear why he did that. Presumably if the barn was full of cattle it would be rather difficult for anyone to take a spade to the earth floor; in fact in a barn full of cattle no-one would even think of doing that. He took £400 with him before setting off.
Several letters arrived subsequently, addressed to his mother and Maria’s parents, to say that he and Maria were at Newport on the Isle of Wight, living together as man and wife, yet all the letters carried a London postmark. He also expressed surprise that they had had no answer to Maria’s letter to them describing the marriage ceremony. In a letter to someone else, Corder explained that Maria was unable to write herself because she had hurt her hand. William Corder was now very obviously lying. People started to speculate about what was going on. Mr and Mrs Marten became more and more dissatisfied and alarmed.
In March 1828, Mrs Marten (Maria’s stepmother) had the same dream on three successive nights. She dreamt that her daughter had been murdered and buried in the Red Barn. Mrs Marten was terrified. These dreams seemed to make sense of her daughter’s disappearance and William Corder’s endless lies and evasions. She was initially reluctant to say anything to her husband because it would sound silly and superstitious, but she became convinced that the dreams contained the truth of what had happened. Eventually she told him and his reaction was as she had anticipated. He would do nothing. She nagged. On 19 April she persuaded her husband to apply for permission to examine the Red Barn, specifically to look for Maria’s clothes. The grain that had been stored in the Red Barn had been removed and at the moment it stood empty. Mrs Marten’s repeating dream had been so vivid that she even knew the exact spot where her husband ought to dig.
Poor Thomas Marten went into the empty barn, its timber-frame interior latticed with vertical, horizontal and diagonal struts. Marten dug where his wife said he should, in the middle towards one end. The soil was softer there. Before long he turned up the green silk handkerchief (belonging to Corder) which he knew his daughter had been wearing on the day she left their home. Filled with fear and apprehension about what he would find next, he went on digging. Eighteen inches down he found part of a human body. Overwhelmed with horror, Mr Marten dropped his tools and staggered outside to raise the alarm. He knew what he had found and when help arrived and more digging was done his worst fears were realised. He had indeed found the grave of his murdered daughter.
Maria’s body was badly decomposed, but the dress, which was still in perfect condition, allowed no doubt to remain about whose body it was. The corpse’s teeth were still intact and there were sufficiently distinctive features of the teeth to make it absolutely certain that this was Maria. Maria’s sister Ann recognized the set of teeth from the position of a missing tooth.
The whole village was in uproar at the discovery. John Wayman, the Bury St Edmunds coroner was notified and a surgeon, John Lawden, examined the body. The coroner opened an inquest at the Cock Inn at Polstead. Lawden said the victim had died violently; there was blood on her face and clothes