When heiress Madeleine Van Norman is found dead, suicide is the first thought. But clues start being noticed. Robert Fessenden, best man, lawyer and amateur detective decides to ask questions until finally near the end of the story Fleming Stone, the great detective is employed to find the guilty party.
The story was written in 1909 and needs to be read in that context, but still an interesting read. ( )

On the eve of her wedding, stunning heiress Madeleine Van Norman is found stabbed to death in the library of her palatial country mansion, killed by a single thrust from her Venetian letter opener. Suspicion falls by turns to the groom who loved another, the cousin who stands to inherit her fortune, the woman the groom loves, the murdered woman’s secretary, and the former lover of the murdered woman’s uncle who will inherit the mansion. A suicide note is found next to her body, but the evidence points to murder. The house had been securely locked with no sign of a break in.

When the beautiful and wealthy Madeleine Van Norman becomes engaged to Schuyler Carleton, only son of an old and aristocratic family, her world seems complete...but soon there are whispers that all is not well. There have already been rumours that Carleton is marrying Madeleine for her money, and as the wedding draws near his behaviour towards her, though scrupulously attentive, is lacking in warmth. The situation is exacerbated with the arrival of Tom Willard, a distant cousin and Madeleine's only living relative, who left town some years previously after a violent quarrel with the family patriarch, the late Richard Van Norman - both men having the famous Van Norman temper. Long in love with Madeleine himself, Tom is not backwards in telling the outraged girl that Carleton does not love her - and moreover, that his affections are engaged elsewhere.

Despite losing her own temper with Tom, Madeleine is desperate enough to flirt with him in front of Carleton, who is provoked into leaving the house. He does not return for the pre-wedding dinner. After an uncomfortable evening, the visitors, including Tom, depart, while the houseguests - the bridesmaids; Cicely Dupuy, Madeleine's secretary; and Miss Morton, and old family friend - retire, leaving Madeleine downstairs in the library. It is nearly two hours later when a horrified cry rouses the household. Downstairs, Schuyler Carleton is staring through the open library door at Madeleine - at the bloody stain on her dress - at the dagger lying near her. A note found on the table suggests suicide but the subsequent investigation determines that it was murder...a murder that could not have been committed by an outsider...

The Clue is the first in a long series of mystery novels featuring the detective Fleming Stone which were popular in their time but seem almost forgotten today; while Carolyn Wells was one of the first women, after Anna Katharine Green, "the mother of the detective novel", to earn her living writing mysteries. The Clue is interesting but ultimately unsatisfactory; it remains to be seen how much of this is due to "first novel syndrome", and how far various authorial quirks that are evident here are indicative of Wells' style.

What I found most interesting here - although I haven't quite been able to decide whether it is realistic, or reflects gaps in Wells' knowledge - is the depiction of the investigation of the murder, which is enough to make a modern mystery buff's hair stand on end. No-one thinks anything of interfering with the crime scene (though, granted, they do initially think it's suicide): the body is moved, the suicide note is handed around, and what turns out to be the murder weapon is left lying on the table for days afterwards; while the servants just can't wait to get in there and clean up. The blood smears on the handle of the dagger are accepted of evidence of murder - Madeleine has no blood on her hands, so she can't have handled it - but no-one thinks of using those smears to try and find the killer. And this may well be accurate: fingerprinting was only introduced in the US, and at first only in New York, in 1906, where it was used purely as a means of identifying known criminals, not finding new ones.

It seems to take forever for the police to show up on this case, although in fact they just wait until a verdict of murder is rendered at the inquest. The seeming delay is due to the circumstantial style of Wells' writing, with much of this novel consisting of lengthy dialogue scenes. Not that the police detective, when he does arrive, contributes anything towards the solving of the crime. More successful is the self-appointed amateur, Rob Fessenden, Carleton's best friend and lawyer, who manages to draw confidences where professional cross-examination has failed. The investigation is further hindered by a willingness to accept crying and fainting when questioned as normal female behaviour - one witness's ability to "faint" on cue notwithstanding - and by the fact that "you can't take a servant's word over a lady's". And in truth, it's hard to get enthused about an investigation meant to clear Schuyler Carleton, who for all he's supposed to be so "honourable" (as we are repeatedly told), behaved like a complete skunk towards his fiancée.

And having, in the end, succeeded in proving that no-one could have committed the murder, both amateur and professional are glad enough to step aside for "the great Fleming Stone", whose belated appearance (first mentioned on pg 298 of a 341 pg novel, first seen on pg 313) is, I gather, quite typical of this series, with most of the investigation conducted by someone else and Stone turning up late in the game to reinterpret the evidence. It's an approach that seems to drive quite a number of mystery-lovers distracted; at the moment, I'm reserving judgement.

What they saw was Madeleine Van Norman, seated in a chair at the library table. Her right arm was on the table, and her head, which had fallen to one side, was supported by her right shoulder. Her eyes were partly closed, and her lips were parted, and the position of the rigid figure left no need for further evidence that this was not a natural sleep. But further evidence there was. Miss Van Norman still wore her yelloe satin gown, but the beautiful embroidered bodice was stained a dull red, and a crimson stream was even then spreading its way down the shimmering breadths of the trailing skirt...