One major challenge that crime fiction authors face has to do with clues. Crime fiction fans are fairly savvy readers, so if the clues are too obvious, they get bored or see a story as implausible (e.g. “How could the sleuth not figure out what that clue means!?”). On the other hand, as I’ve mentioned before here on Confessions of a Mystery Novelist…, if clues aren’t provided, or if the clues that are given are too hard to work out, the reader may feel cheated (i.e. “Well of course if I’d known that I’d’ve guessed why ____ was killed!”). So placing clues has to be done thoughtfully and crime writers work very hard at doing that. Trust me. When it’s done well, though, a clue can be placed elegantly so that it’s all “above board” but the reader still gets misled, at least for a while.
For instance, in Agatha Christie’s After the Funeral (AKA Funerals are Fatal), we meet the members of the Abernethie family, who have gathered for the funeral of patriarch Richard Abernethie. At the reading of the will, Abernethie’s youngest sister Cora Lansquenet says that he was murdered. At first, everyone hushes her up and even she retracts her remark. But everyone also privately wonders whether she was right. Then Cora herself is murdered the next day. Mr. Entwhistle, the family attorney, asks Hercule Poirot to investigate and he agrees. The family gathers again, this time to choose things that they want from the house before it’s sold. Poirot attends this get-together in the guise of a representative for the organisation that’s purchased the house. In the course of that week-end, Poirot hears a clue – one simple clue – that tells him a large part of what he needs to know to find out who the murderer is. It’s neatly and elegantly placed though, so it’s easy to miss. Still, Christie “plays fair” with the reader.
So does Arthur Upfield in The Bushman Who Came Back. In that novel, the peaceful life at the Wootton homestead is disrupted when Wootton’s housekeeper Mrs. Bell is shot one morning after Wootton and his ranch hands have left for the day. When the hands come back a little later that morning they also find that Mrs. Bell’s daughter Linda has disappeared. Everyone’s very fond of Linda so there’s an all-out search for her. It’s suspected that she was abducted by a bushman nicknamed Yorkie and that Yorkie also killed Mrs. Bell. Upfield’s sleuth, Queensland police detective Napoleon “Bony” Bonaparte is sent to the ranch to try to track Yorkie and get Linda back safely if he can. Bony interviews everyone involved and looks for relevant evidence. Two clues in particular lead him to believe that Yorkie is probably innocent. There’s another clue too, not made much of at first sight, that is also an important pointer to the killer. Once Bony puts those clues together, he finds out who killed Mrs. Bell and why. The clues are there for the reader but it takes an astute reader to figure out what they mean right away.
There’s an interesting clue fairly early in Colin Dexter’s Death is Now My Neighbour. One morning, physiotherapist Rachel James is shot through her kitchen window. Inspector Morse and Sergeant Lewis are called in to investigate. At first, they can’t find much of a motive. Then Geoffrey Owens, a journalist who lives in the same neighbourhood as Rachel James, is shot too. Now it seems that someone is targeting the people who live in that neighbourhood. Morse and Lewis find though that James’ murder isn’t connected to that of Owens in that way. In the end, it’s a simple clue – something the reader knows fairly early on – that leads Morse and Lewis to the reason for James’ death. In the end, they also find out why Owens was murdered and who committed both crimes.
In Peter Temple’s Bad Debts, former attorney Jack Irish, who’s now a private investigator, gets a frantic call from a former client Danny McKillop. Irish represented McKillop in a drink driving killing; McKillop was convicted and has just been released from prison. McKillop wants Irish to meet him to discuss something urgent but by the time Irish gets back to his former client it’s too late; McKillop’s been murdered. Irish feels guilty for not following up more quickly and what’s more he feels responsible for the fact that McKillop lost the court case in which Irish represented him. So he decides to find out who killed Danny McKillop and why. He interviews McKillop’s wife, other members of the family and some friends and business associates. Bit by bit he learns that McKillop’s murder may be connected to the drink driving case for which McKillop went to prison – a case in which activist Anne Jeppeson was killed. Now Irish begins to look into who would want to kill Jeppeson and why. At one point, someone tells Irish something that doesn’t seem important at the time but turns out to be vital. Astute readers will pick up the clue; I didn’t at first. It’s that clue though that points Irish to the evidence he needs to catch the killer.
And then there’s Karin Fossum’s Don’t Look Back, in which Oslo police detective Konrad Sejer and his assistant Jacob Skarre investigate the drowning murder of fifteen-year-old Annie Holland. Her body was found by a tarn near the village of Granittveien. There are no signs of sexual assault or other real violence, so the murder wasn’t rape and it’s clear that she knew her attacker. While Sejer and Skarre interview witnesses and suspects, Annie’s boyfriend Halvor Muntz doesn’t want to sit by and do nothing. He wants to know who killed Annie and why. It turns out that a casual thing she had said to him is a vital clue as to where he can find the motive for her murder. For his part, Sejer finds out some information too from a casual conversation. That leads him, from a different direction you might say, to the same truth. Those clues are given clearly fairly early in the story, but it’s still hard at first to see them for what they are at first.
That’s also the case with very important clues we get in Shona MacLean’s The Redemption of Alexander Seaton. Seaton is the undermaster of the grammar school in 17th Century Banff, Scotland. He is shocked one morning when the body of apothecary’s assistant Patrick Davidson, who’s been poisoned, is found in his schoolroom. The most immediate suspect is local music master and Seaton’s good friend Charles Thom, who was Davidson’s rival for Marion Arbuthnott, the apothecary’s daughter. Thom claims to be innocent but he’s arrested and imprisoned. When Seaton visits his friend, Thom begs Seaton to clear his name. Seaton agrees and begins to talk to the people who knew Davidson. It turns out that there is more than one possible motive for the murder and Seaton explores all of them. But two clues, both given clearly and relatively early in the novel, point to the real truth. Once Seaton understands what those clues are and what they mean, he’s able to find the killer. In this case, we find the clues when Seaton does but it takes a very astute reader (more so than I am) to put the pieces together before Seaton does.
And that’s the thing about a really well-placed clue. When it’s done elegantly, we see it right there but don’t always recognise it for what it is. Are you good at spotting those well-placed clues? If you’re a writer, how do you decide where to place clues?
NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Billy Joel’s A Room of our Own.













I agree with you whole-heartedly on this, Margot. I’m particularly fond of locked room/impossible crimes, and the clues for the reader MUST be placed very very carefully. Ideally, the reader will be able to go back at the end of the book and see that they were fairly placed – the reader is the victim of legitimate misdirection, not just some “oh, by the way” clue not shared by the detective. John Dickson Carr was the master of the technique, I think.
Also glad to see that you enjoy Bony – Upfield is one of my favorite authors, and I do wish his books were more readily available!
Les – I have to agree about Upfield’s work. I really wish it were more easily available. I keep hoping that with the advent of e-books, that some publisher will see the merit of making Upfield’s books available to a new generation.
You put it very well too about the way clues are best placed in crime fiction. They really must be placed so that as you say, the reader can go back later and see exactly where s/he was misdirected, rather than feel cheated. To me, that’s more difficult to do with “locked room/impossible” kinds of crimes than almost any other. It’s a skill that Carr certainly possessed.
If either of you are audio book fans I noticed that several Arthur Upfield books as narrated by a local (Australian) actor/voice coach (Peter Hosking) were just made available at Audible (US store).
Bernadette – Oh, thank you for that information
Audibles can be a very good way to experience a story, and it sounds like they’ve gotten a great person to do the narration.
Locked-room mysteries: my father and uncle’s favorite type of puzzlers. One should read Sjowall/Wahloo’s The Locked Room. That is a doozy. It’s nearly impossible to figure that out, who did it and how. It must have taken the authors days to figure out the logistics of that murder scenario. But how tantalizing to the reader. I’m not sure how many readers could figure that out from the clues given. Nor the rest of that mystery either, but what a treat.
I think authors must give enough clues to let the readers figure out the who, why, and how of the crime(s), without spoiling the mystery. It’s quite unfair to give the solution without having given the reader enough information to have figured it out. It’s also not good to let on early who the culprit is; then the reader can lose the tension pulling her into the story. What a tightrope walk for a writer!
Kathy – Sjöwall and Wahlöö’s The Locked Room is definitely an excellent example of how to leave clues t one of those “impossible mysteries.” Of course, all of those novels are, I think, very well done, so I’m quite biased. Even so, for those who like that sort of mystery, The Locked Room is a good ‘un.
You’re right too that authors have a real balancing act when it comes to placing clues in a story. If it’s too easy to figure the story out, then readers won’t stay engaged. If it’s too hard, or the reader doesn’t get a vital piece of information, the reader feels cheated. And as you say, that’s not “playing fair.”
AC is the master with mysteries: she puts the right amount of clues in. Sometimes I will go back and re-read her mysteries to see how I could have figured it out and realize the clues were right there in front of my face.
Clarissa – You have a well-taken point. Christie was an absolute genius at placing clues wasn’t she? I hope I can learn some of that skill…
What are the suggestions for reading just a few Agatha Christie’s, not Miss Marple or Hercule Poirot. I read a lot of Poirot’s cases as a teen-ager. An esteemed blogger suggested The Man in the Brown Suit.
Kathy – May I suggest Ordeal By Innocence, Why Didn’t They Ask Evans?(AKA The Boomerang Clue) or Endless Night? They don’t feature Christie’s most famous sleuths, but they are, I think, quite well written. I honestly like them better than The Man in the Brown Suit.
I love old fashioned whodunnits – locked room mysteries, country house mysteries etc.. You’d think by now I’d be able to pick the clues every time but I often can’t – which is why when I can I do sometimes think less of the author
Bernadette – I know what you mean. I sometimes feel exactly the same way when I’m reading a mystery. I want the clues to be clear enough that they’re fair, but well-placed and subtle enough that I get misled, if that makes sense. And I like the old-fashioned kind of whodunit myself.
It is such a fine line, putting in enough clues as to be fair, but not so many as to insult the intelligence of your readers. When you’ve been living, eating, breathing your novel and know it inside out you have to go through it with a reader’s eyes – a first time reader’s eyes. Often I find when I’m writing I’ll go back and look at a clue, and I’ll think, ugh, that’s soooo obvious, when in actuality it isn’t, my view is just warped by over familiarity. I have to be careful not to be too subtle.
Vanda – You put that really well! It is such a tricky balance. You’re right too that once the author has drafted, written, revised, edited and re-edited, it’s so easy to forget what the story will be like for the new reader. That’s why I love beta-readers. They spot those things and care enough to tell the truth about them. Otherwise it really is hard to decide if something’s too obvious or too subtle.
Of course, much of crime fiction doesn’t really offer clues. If it’s from the POV of a victim or the perpetrator you get a different story altogether.
Patti – Right you are indeed! There is a lot of crime fiction that’s not done in the “whodunit” format where there aren’t what you’d call clues. Of course, there are psychological clues, but you’re right. That’s different.
This is a favourite topic of miine. I agree about Christie’s genius regarding clues. Reg Hill wrote a novel – which I’d better not name – where the murderer’s identity is revealed in the very first paragraph. But we don’t realise what we are being told. Very clever.
Martin – Thank you
I find it an interesting topic too and one I’m constantly trying to do better myself. And no doubt that Agatha Christie showed the rest of us how it’s done. Hill too was good at it, as you say. He did a terrific job at telling the reader things without the reader even being aware of what’s being said.
I love locked room & similar “classic” crime clues – though as you point out, particularly in the older literature, the solutions are often quite obvious to the modern reader, though of course they would have seemed fresh at the time.
One reason I like Peter Temple’s books (you discuss one here) and Jo Nesbo’s books – you really have to pay total attention to every paragraph to get the clues. They are all there, but fiendishly hard to spot! Hats off to these two authors.
Maxine – Well said about both Temple’s and Nesbø’s writing. Both authors are extremely skilled at weaving the solution of a mystery into the story in a very clever way. The clues are all there as you say. But if one doesn’t pay close attention, one misses them. I admire both for that talent.
And you’re right too about those delicious “impossible” classic mysteries. They might seem obvious or clunky to the modern reader at times, but they were groundbreaking in their day and some of them are even today not easy to figure out.
John Dickson Carr believed that it was no good simply mentioning an important clue once, in passing, on the bottom of page 78. The really satisfying clue is one that the author must place directly in front of the reader. The reader must know that it’s important, although they mustn’t know why. Conan Doyle did some real beauties. In THE VALLEY OF FEAR, Holmes keeps mentioning to Watson that it is important that the murdered man apparently exercised with only one barbell, much to the good Doctor’s puzzlement. In SILVER BLAZE he mentions the fact that a sudden outbreak of lameness in a landowner’s sheep is a vital clue to the identity of a killer. When the clue is finally explained, if feels even more satisfying because we had a chance to solve it but couldn’t.
Skywatcher – You make a very interesting point about the obviousness of clues. The most successful clues are the ones that the reader plainly sees (i.e. the reader can’t complain that the author didn’t make it clear) but still misses. Agatha Christie did that quite well and so, as you say, did Carr and Conan Doyle. Very well-taken point
Martin Edwards rightly mentions Christie’s genius with clues. Her mysteries are dotted with unconventional clues from the opening pages and she places them craftily in any setting or situation, in something as innocuous as a mantle-piece or a furniture out of place. She had mastered the art of subtlety.
Prashant – Well-put! You are quite right about the way Christie used clues. You’re putting me in mind of The Mysterious Affair at Styles in which the fact that the victim lit a fire in her fireplace ends up being an important clue, but no-one thinks it important when Poirot first mentions it.
Ms. Kinberg, my memory isn’t as sharp as yours but I think there is another clue in THE MYSTERIOUS AFFAIR… pertaining to a piece being shifted over the fireplace. If I am not mistaken, that furniture scene I mentioned is from THE MURDER OF ROGER ACKROYD. Poirot notices it at the outset while Dr. Sheppard wonders why it’s significant. I wonder if Christie worked out her clues long before she sat down to writer her mysteries. I’d say that clues play a pivotal role in her novels.
Prashant – Right you are indeed about that piece being shifted over the fireplace in The Mysterious Affair…. It’s quite clever too. And yes, the furniture shift happens in The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. You know, I don’t know whether Christie worked her clues out before she actually wrote her novels. I wouldn’t be surprised though as they are blended in so very neatly.
At the risk of overstaying my welcome, may I second what has been said about Carr’s insistence on calling attention to major clues, so that the reader has no complaint? In THE HOLLOW MAN (also known as THE THREE COFFINS), Dr. Fell (in addition to devoting a chapter to the discussion of all the ways “impossible” crimes can be created) repeatedly calls the reader’s attention to what is called “the clue of the church bells.” He says that the clue restores sanity to the impossible situations in the book – and it does, but I defy most readers to realize its significance before it is explained!.
In THE BLIND BARBER, Dr. Fell, who literally solves the mystery while sitting in a chair in his study, lists a series of clues (cryptically titled, to be sure) for the reader to consider – and a reader who can figure out what he means by, for example, “the clue of seven razors” will be able to solve a baffling murder (and the disappearance of the body) on board a ship at sea from which nobody is missing…
And in THE NINE WRONG ANSWERS, Carr himself offers nine footnotes to the reader – each one highlighting a “clue” the reader may think s/he has discovered…but which the author will warn is wrong. And, yes, he is laughing at you…
That’s why I love Carr. He was the master of “the grandest game,” and it is downright shameful that so few of his titles are in print today. (Thank you, Rue Morgue Press and Langtail Press for what we DO have.)
Les Blatt
http://www.classicmysteries.net
Les – FIrst and foremost, there is no need to worry about overstaying your welcome. You are welcome here as often and for as long as you wish to be here.
You also do make such a well-taken point (and thank you for those specific examples too) of the way Carr uses obvious clues (but clues that the reader still could easily miss if not attentive). He really was a genius at creating the kind of story where the reader thinks, “That was there the whole time and I never saw it!!” Folks, if you haven’t tried Carr’s work before, or if it’s been a while, do give it a (re)try.
John Dickson Carr was one of my father’s and my uncle’s favorite authors. Rarely did I see a stack of books on our coffee table which did not include one of Carr’s books. The library doesn’t have many, but Better World Books seems to have lots of vintage paperbacks — and for those of us, at least in the U.S., does not charge shipping or taxes.
Kathy – Thanks for letting me know about BWB – I’ll definitely have to check them out. And I’m so glad you grew up with Carr, too. Such a terrific author I think.
Unfortunately, although my father read Carr, I hadn’t realized his genius. I got the Nero Wolfe, Perry Mason and Sherlock Holmes influence though. I am going to catch up though.
One more thing about Better World Books; a book is donated to a literacy program for every book one buys. Books are also given to libraries.
Kathy – Now I’m even happier to know about Better World Books. Thanks for sharing that. And I think there are a lot of authors whose talent we don’t recognise when we’re younger, but whose work we read later on.