Write the ending of a mystery story. Then write the beginning.
“The murderer had no way of knowing that the poisoned tea cakes would be going to the Ladies Auxiliary Veteran’s wives of Wars on Foreign Soil afternoon soiree and tea-party. As far as he was aware they were destined for the governor’s luncheon.” Chief detective Marty Blumesquat said in his most dignified voice. His meaty hands were clasped behind his white suited back.
“Petit fours.” The mousy looking man sitting on the straight backed chair, handcuff clasped firmly around the leg said peevishly. “If you are going to stand there and grand stand like Hercule Piorot then at least get that right.” Detective Blumesquat gave the man a chilly glare.
“As mister Price here has so kindly pointed out, the poisoned treat was a petit four, not a tea cake.” He cleared his throat and continued. “As I was saying.” The captured murder rolled his eyes. “The cake with the poison was not intended for Miss Amelia Newcomb at all. The real victim was supposed to be Zelda Richmond.”
The detective smiled. The gasp that went around the room was very gratifying. This was always the best part of the case, the part where he got to prove to everyone why he was the smartest man in Pleasant Fields and the surrounding unincorporated lands.
“Mr. Price marked the poisoned cake with the letter “Z”, counting on Zelda’s innate vanity to push her to choose that treat. Unfortunately, the box with the doom confection went to the wrong room and the dear Miss Amelia saw the “Z” and thought it looked like an “N” for Newcomb. After all, it was her 95th birthday.”
“Now come on.” The collared criminal protested. “You cannot presume to know what the old biddy was thinking when she took that cake out of the box.”
“Of course I can, my dear fellow,” the detective puffed out his chest. “I’m the great and brilliant Detective Blumesquat.”
“You are so right, dear!” Rebecca Walsh, the chairperson of the 14th annual tea party and afternoon soiree for the Ladies Auxiliary Veteran’s wives of Wars on Foreign Soil exclaimed! “We should get some of those lovely petit fours from that bakery Zelda always uses.”
“I’ll go call her now. I think her husband is having a thing at the governor’s mansion the same day, we can just pick them up at the same time.” June Alistair was actually about as enthusiastic as a pig in a dress about this whole event, but Rebecca was so excited, she couldn’t bring herself to tell the poor dear to shut up.