I am happily reading my Patricia Moyes at bedtime; people keep dying at the Blue Moon Inn, the victims of Destroying Angels (poisonous mushrooms) that someone has cut up small and mixed in with the real mushroom dishes. There seems to be no motive and none of the current suspects seem very likely, so I am stumped.
This is the most fun part of the mystery, though--when you're blessedly in the dark, but you can tell your detective (in this case, Inspector Henry Tibbett), is gathering clues and figuring it out way ahead of you. Right now Henry just listens and smiles, and that's always a sign that his ultra-perceptive brain is picking up little details that the reader won't notice.
That's the special gift of Patricia Moyes--an Agatha-Christie like ability to bury her clues.