Man, I really miss the old days when new Detective Conan and Kindaichi Shounen volumes would be released every three months like clockwork: with the earlier hiatuses in Conan's serialization and Hajime doings his cases on a biweekly format now, releases for both series have been incredibly slow and irregular these last two years.

The new series starring detective manga icon Kindaichi Hajime started last year, with the teenage detective now a 37-year old man, and his adventures serialized in the biweekly magazine Evening (instead of the weekly Shounen Magazine), aimed at a slightly older audience. The Tower Block Madam Murder Case is the story that takes up all of the third volume of Kindaichi 37-sai no Jikenbo ("The Case Files of the 37-year Old Kindaichi"), and a bit more to be exact: you'll find the first chapter of this story in the previous volume and it also appears an 'aftermath' concluding chapter will follow in the fourth volume, but the main murder plot plays out within the pages of this volume, so I thought I might as well write a review now, instead of waiting until June. Kindaichi Hajime, 37 years old, takes a day off from his mind-numbing work at Otowa Black PR to help his neighbor Momoka (to be exact: his attractive neighbor who is also a single mother). Momoka runs a small catering service and she desperately needs an extra pair of hands to help out at a small party organized by Misaki, who in the past has helped Momoka out by introducing her to some good clients. Misaki's party is a small informal gathering with food and karaoke for her neighbors who all live in the same luxurious high rise residential complex. While ostentatiously, these women get along well as good neighbors, there's a certain 'caste' system in this mini eco-system with the women who live in the more expensive apartments on the top floors standing at the top of the hierarchy, and it's Misaki who rules from the very tip of the pyramid. Three women of the lower floors have more than enough of Misaki's passive-aggresive ordering around, flaunting with her money and other actons with which she asserts her superiority over them, and the trio decides to kill Misaki. The plan is to murder Misaki during the party and make it seem she committed suicide herself by jumping from her apartment up on the 38th floor. Props for their plan include a fake SNS message sent from Misaki's smartphone to her "friends" just before she "jumps" (is thrown from the building) and an elaborate scheme to create an alibi for the three conspirators during the party. Of course, these three couldn't have known that that middle-aged waiter at their party used to be feared as a brilliant teenage detective...

The first story in this series, The Utashima Resort Murder Case, was in essence a more than familiar sight for readers who have been following Hajime since his younger detecting days. A series of murders on a remote island (Utashima, no less!), semi-impossible settings due to perfect alibis for everyone, etc. The story managed to add in some great comedy in the moments when things didn't exactly go like in in Hajime's teenager days, but overall, the story was what you'd expect from the series, even if it takes places twenty years in Hajime's future (note that the story doesn't actually take place in the future: the stories in all the Kindaichi Shounen series take place kinda around the time of original publication). In that sense, I'd say The Tower Block Madam Murder Case has something more original to offer to the reader, even if the core mystery plot is a bit simple. The whole case takes places in a high class apartment complex, with camera surveillance in the elevators, special high-speed elevators for the top floors, German-made keycards that open the doors to the private apartments, and most importantly, a story that revolves around the grudge and jealousy women can harbor and a close look at the mini eco-system of the inhabitants of an apartment complex. Quite different from the usual faraway isolated crime scene Hajime used to visit and it actually kinda reminds of the novel Shiro to Kuro, an adventure of Hajime's grandfather Kindaichi Kousuke, which was also set in a very different setting from what you'd usually expect from his adventures.

Another point of interest is the fact that this is an inverted mystery story. Inverted stories are not incredibly rare in the various Kindaichi Shounen no Jikenbo series, but this format was usually reserved for the short stories. I think this is the first time we've seen an inverted long story in this series: most of the scheme of the three murderers is revealed to the reader long before Hajime even starts suspecting something is going on. You have an advantage over Hajime as the reader, so part of the fun now is also figuring out how Hajime's going to figure things out.


The core mystery plot however is rather simple: many of the hints that give the game away to Hajime will also seem obvious to the reader, especially as they have an inherent advantage over him, being shown both sides of the crime. Most of the hints that help Hajime figure out it was not a suicide, but a murder are easy to pick up and not particularly original, not even only seen from the context of this series. There is another aspect to the crime, that is bordering to an impossible situation: we know the murderers somehow schemed to make it seem Misaki had gone to her apartment on the 38th floor before the party, but the conspirators are never seen on the security cameras going up to the 38th floor, nor going back down to the party, so how did they pull this off? Part of how this is done is told to the reader directly through the inverted format. The way this side of the crime is solved by Hajime doesn't work quite well in comic format and had this been a normal detective story, this wouldn't be really fair, but in this case, the reader had absolute knowledge a priori anyway. The part to the elevator trick that isn't explained explicitly has to be solved by both Hajime and the reader themselves, but I can't imagine it would a very large obstacle: the hinting is almost too good, so it won't be difficult to figure out how it was done.

So the overall story is rather simple, though I have to say I did have fun with it. Like most of the inverted stories in this series, The Tower Block Madam Murder Case has a rather humoristic undertone: with Hajime constantly pointing out strange points to the "suicide", the three women who committed the murder try to come up with all kinds of excuses and other plans to make sure the police will let things slide swiftly, and this results in some funny, panic-stricken actions, like the scenes you see in the spin-off series Kindaichi Shounen no Jikenbo Gaiden - Hannintachi no Jikenbo (which retells the old stories from the POV of the criminals as a parody series) The fact the murderers are still actively working on their plan as Hajime's trying to solve the crime, also adds an extra sense of thrill. Hajime's subordinate Hayama, who's helping out with the catering service too, serves as this series' Miyuki for the moment and delivers some light touches, while we also have a familiar face acting as Hajime's new connection in the Metropolitan Police Department (as his usual ally, Inspector Kenmochi, is already retired of course).

So Kindaichi 37-sai no Jikenbo 3 is by no means an exceptional volume, but both the tone and setting serve as a nice change from the usual menu for this series, and it works as a simple, but entertaining enough mystery story. The next volume is scheduled for a June release, but I suspect it will not contain a complete story, so I will probably wait with my review until the whole story is released (which will probably be nearer the end of the year). 

Original Japanese title(s): 天樹征丸（原）、さとうふみや（画）『金田一37歳の事件簿』第3巻

I don't remember when I first heard of mystery author Ookura Takahiro, but I know quite a few years passed between me first learning of him, and me actually getting to know something written by him.  Surprisingly through, my first experience with Ookura was through Detective Conan. Ookura was the scriptwriter for the 2017 Detective Conan theatrical feature The Crimson Love Letter, but in the lead-up to the release of the film, he also wrote the screenplay for episode 829, The Mysterious Boy, of the animated TV series, which was the first time I had seen anything created by Ookura. The Crimson Love Letter was an excellent mystery film (and the novel version written by Ookura was also okay), so I grew very interested in seeing more of Ookura's work, and what better way to start than with one of his more famous creations? And yes, I know he's also working on the 2019 Detective Conan: The Fist of the Blue Sapphire, but the trailer didn't really manage to hit the right places for me quite yet.

Fukuie is a small woman with short, black hair and a pair of frame-less glasses who is often mistaken for a college student, but she is in fact a lieutenant of the Metropolitan Police Department, in charge of homicide investigations. Despite her unassuming appearance and sometimes even careless habits (she often forgets her police badge), criminals are warned not to underestimate this woman, as she has a keen eye for details, and no matter how crafty a plan might be, you count on in it that Lieutenant Fukuie will not only figure everything out, she'll also be sure to come up with some way to actually arrest the criminal with proof. Whether you're a librarian trying to save the library from being sold off or an actress killing off her blackmailing rival, Lieutenant Fukuie will always find the weak spots in the criminal's plan and bring everything tumbling down in Ookura Takahiro's short story collection Fukuie Keibuho no Aisatsu ("The Greetings of Lieutenant Fukuie", 2006), which also carries the alternative English title of Enter Lieutenant Fukuie.

The Lieutenant Fukuie series is one of Ookura's best known series, especially as it has also seen TV adaptations. Fukuie Keibuho no Aisatsuis the first book in the still-running inverted detective series. As in the tradition of all great inverted mystery fiction, each story is told from the perspective of the culprit, who carries out their murderous plan. At first, their plans seem foolproof, but then the lieutenant appears, and starts picking out small contradictions left here and there. It might seem Lieutenant Fukuie is just guessing, but by the time the culprit realizes how crafty Fukuie really is, it's already too late and for the reader, the fun of the mystery lies in not guessing whodunit, but how Fukuie is going to figure out what really happened. The Lieutenant Fukuie series is obviously heavily inspired by Columbo, though something interesting has to be mentioned here. Ookura has penned several official novelizations of Columbo in the past and while Ookura was credited as "translator" for these novelizations, he was the person who actually wrote these novels (the prose) especially for the Japanese market. These novelizations were based on the original screenplays of existing episodes, or plot outlines for unfilmed stories, which Ookura then had to expand into a novel-form. For these books, people like Columbo creators Levinson & Link, or other screenplay writers were credited for the "original work", though technically, they didn't write the specific novel form of these stories, which were entirely Ookura's invention and don't exist outside Japan. In a way, it's no wonder Ookura would later write his own inverted mystery stories about a police lieutenant.


By the way, the animation sequence accompanying the fiftieth ending song of Detective Conan (La PomPon's cover of Zard's Unmei no Roulette Mawashite) has the regular cast dressed as characters from several famous police and detective TV dramas, and Ran is featured as Lieutenant Fukuie, looking in her bag for her police badge as always.

One thing I find difficult about writing about inverted mystery stories is figuring out how much I should write about the plot actually, as in most inverted stories, a lot is already revealed to the reader. In fact, the fun in these stories often lies in the fact that although the reader knows more about the facts of the case than the Lieutenant, she'll usually still out-think you. In order not to spoil too much, I'll keep my summaries for the four stories rather short. The volume opens with Saigo no Issatsu ("The Last Volume"), which stars Amamiya Sachiko, head librarian of the Enamito Library. Enamito Kousuke was during his life a true connoisseur of books and when he retired, he had his secretary Sachiko become head of his own library, but after his death, the library became the property of his son Hirohisa, a no-good bum who is keen on selling off everything as soon as he can to get some money. Sachiko plans to kill Hirohisa in order to save the library, and she dresses the scene so it looks like Hirohisa had snuck into the library himself in order to steal some rare books to sell. This first story is a not particularly baffling, but still entertaining mystery, with a few different points that attract the Lieutenant's attention which a careful reader will also notice. Some of these contradictions are presented quite open (fact A and fact B don't mesh), but some also require the reader to make another, logical assumption (if both fact A and fact B are true, that must mean fact C), and this also keeps the reader on their toes in this fairly short opening story.

In Occam no Kamisori ("Occam's Razor"), Lieuteant Fukuie is investigating the murder on associate professor Ikeuchi, who was seemingly killed by the same robber who has been roaming the neighborhood lately. The questions Fukuie has about the murder however lead her to Yanagida Yoshifumi, a university teacher who used to teach scientific investigation at the police academy, and who has actually taught Fukuie herself in her rookie days. What makes this story interesting is not only the fact we have an expert in crime investigation who commited the murder, the story is also written in a way so not everything about Yanagida's plan is explained right from the beginning, leaving also a few things for the reader to find out as they read on .For example, Yanagida steals a pack of cigarettes from the victim in their first scene, before the murder occurs, but the implication of that isn't explained until later. 

Aijou no Scenario ("A Scenario of Love") is about the actress Ogino Mariko, who's being blackmailed by her rival actress Kakinuma Emi to give up on a certain audition. Mariko kills Emi by feeding her sleeping pills, and then leaving Emi's car running in the garage so she'd suffocate. That way it'd seem Emi had simply taken her usual sleeping draught without switching her car off. A receipt of the things Emi bought at the convenience store gives Fukuie more than enough leeway to suspect this isn't just an accident. While the true motive of the murderer isn't really well-hinted at, I'd say that as a mystery, this short story works reasonably well with more than enough well-clewed parts that explain why Fukuie would start having her doubts about the whole case.

In the final story Tsuki no Shizuku ("Moon Tear"), Tanimoto Kichirou, owner of the Tanimoto Sake Brewery, kills his rival Satou of the Satou Brewery. The two had very different approaches when it came to sake: the Satou Brewery was producing in masses, but connoisseurs couldn't stand their awful sake, while the Tanimoto Sake Brewery did everything the old-fashioned way to maintain quality, but they could hardly produce enough to keep the company floating. Satou was trying to kill off Tanimoto Sake Brewery once and for all by adopting a cost leader strategy, which Tanimoto couldn't survive for long, so Tanimoto Kichirou killed Satou, making it seem like Satou had snuck into the Tanimoto Sake Brewery to spy on their sake and had fallen into one of the empty sake tanks. The decisive hint that shows Tanimoto killed Satou is quite brilliantly hidden within the text, and perfectly fitting for the story. Looking at this core mystery plot, I think this one is the best plotted one, with a really interesting situation for the reader to solve even though they should know more than Fukuie.

By the way, it's interesting how Lieutenant Fukuie is quite the nondescript character most of the time. While the spotlight's supposed to be on the culprit in Columbo, Columbo actually always has a presence on screen whenever he's in the scene. That doesn't really work with novels though. Mitani Kouki's novelization of his own Furuhata Ninzaburou series (also inspired by Columbo) shows this difference very well: while on the television screen, Furuhata has countless of quirky traits and commandeers every scene he's in, he's actually almost a traitless figure in the novel version, who appears only to put the pressure on the culprit. By putting as little emphasis on the detective character, the focus shifts almost completely to the psychology of the culprit and to how they view the detective. This is also more or less what happens in the Lieutenant Fukuie series, where Fukuie seldom becomes more than the woman with short black hair and frameless glasses who has an eerie smile on her face as she talks with the suspects.

Fukuie Keibuho no Aisatsu is on the whole a capable mystery story collection that really manages to scratch that itch for Columbo-esque inverted mystery stories. There's also surprising variety in these stories, so I am quite curious to see what other adventures Fukuie has in the following volumes and I'm sure I'll be seeing more of her soon here.

Original Japanese title(s): 大倉崇裕 『福家警部補の挨拶』:「最後の一冊」/「オッカムの剃刀」/「愛情のシナリオ」/「月の雫」

I have a tendency to read mystery series, I noticed lately. Of the writers I regularly read and review, I don't think there's even one where I'm solely reading non-series. I just enjoy having a framework and recurring characters, I think, as you kinda know what to expect when you read a certain series in terms of style of plotting etcetera.

(Disclosure: I translated Norizuki Rintarou's short story The Lure of the Green Door)

So while I have read quite a few of short story collections by Norizuki Rintarou, Shiramitsushi no Tokei (2008) is actually the first time I read a non-series book written by him, as all the other books I've read by Norizuki were part of his Norizuki Rintarou series, which is about the same-named mystery author who solves crimes with his father Inspector Norizuki in a totally Ellery Queen-inspired set-up. The ten stories collected in this volume however here are not part of any series, save for the last story, which is an early version of what would later be rewritten to a series novel. The ten stories were originally published between 1998 and 2008 in various magazines, and range from suspense thrillers and pastiches to not-really-mysteries.

To start with the conclusion: don't expect the pure puzzle plot mysteries like the ones we know and love from the Rintarou short story collections. The stories where Norizuki really shows off his love for Ellery Queen and for logical reasoning, for classic mystery tropes as the locked room mystery, the true whodunnit and other brilliant and surprising ideas, as well as engaging and funny short stories are to be found in those short story collections. Shiramitsubushi no Tokei features a variety of styles I myself hadn't seen Norizuki utilize before, and I know the reception of this volume is fairly good because there's variety in here, but save for the title story and maybe two or three other stories, few of them are what I would consider "typically" Norizuki. Which isn't a bad thing per se, but I certainly don't think this volume is indicative of Norizuki's plotting talent. It's, to borrow Monthy Python's words, something completely different. It's like only reading Agatha Christie's Hercule Poirot short stories, and then reading Witness for the Prosecution for the first time. It's just different, and perhaps not what you attracted you to the author in the first place.

Shiyouchuu ("Occupied") is inspired by Stanley Ellin's short story The Moment of Decision, and features a locked room situation, though it is not a locked room mystery. I can't write too much about it, as the story is basically building up to a punchline, but it involves an arrogant writer, his rather hopeless editor and a vengeful waitress at the cafe where the writer and his editor are meeting. Again, it's not really a mystery story, just a playful story that plays with the notion/concept of what a locked room murder is.

Double Play is a story I had already read some years ago, as it was included in the lackluster anthology Futoumei na Satsujin. It deals with a murder exchange, with our protagonist having just about enough of his wife when another man pops up at the batting center, asking our protagonist whether he wouldn't want to kill his uncle for him, offering to kill the protagonist's wife instead. This is a suspense story that is admittedly well-written, but it's a shame it wasn't written as a true puzzler, as a bit more build-up to the ending (more clues/foreshadowing) would've made this story better in my opinion.

Shirouto Gei ("Amateur Skill") is a fairly short story where a man accidently kills his wife after a row about her spending a fortune on ventriloquism lessons and a dummy. This wasn't the first time the two had a loud fight though, so this fatal fight alarmed the neighbor. As the husband realizes the neighbor isn't really put at rest just by him saying everything is alright and refusing to let the neighbor to see his wife, he quickly hurries to hide his wife's body as he's sure the neighbor will call the police. As he tries to fool the two detectives though, it seems the dummy has other plans for him.... A surprisingly funny short, but again not much of a puzzler, more a story that builds to a punchline.

Nusumareta Tegami ("The Purloined Letter") is not a pastiche of Edgar Allan Poe's Dupin series, but of Jorge Luis Borges'Death and the Compass, starring the detective Erik Lönnrot. This story is set before Death and the Compass, and has Lönnrot trying to solve the puzzle how his nemesis Red Scharlach managed to steal an letter of indiscretion written by the wife of a general, to a man she had fallen in love with. The wife had taken lengths to protect her letter to the man, with her locking her letter inside a special box, which was locked by a padlock of her own. After receiving this package, her lover locked the box himself with his own padlock and sent the box (with two padlocks now) unopened back to the wife, who then unlocked her lock, and sent it back to her lover for him to finally open the box. Yet somehow Red Scharlach managed to get hold of the letter which was at all times protected by at least one lock. The solution is rather obvious though, especially with the opening quote, and it's actually the same idea as another story in this collection, only in another context.

In Memoriam and Neko no Junrei ("The Cat Pilgrimage") are both not mystery stories, but stories that feature curious and surprising settings. In Memoriam is a short short of just four pages, about a secret club of authors who, as a game, write obituaries for collegues who are still alive. Neko no Junreiis the almost fantasy-like tale about the "cat pilgrimage", a journey cats undertake when they reach a certain age to a cave near Mt. Fuji. Sometimes, the cats run away from home for a month or two to go on the pilgrimage, but sometimes, worried owners make use of guided cat pilgrimage tours to bring their own cat to their destination. The story is about a couple making up their mind whether they'll allow their cat to go or not.

Yonshoku Mondai ("The Four Color Problem") is a pastiche of Tsuzuki Michio's Taishoku Keiji ("The Retired Detective") series, of which I have read nothing, but it is apparently about a police detective who sometimes talks about some cases with his father, who is a retired policeman himself. This time, the son is working on the strange murder of an actress, who starred recently in the action superhero series Time Task Force ChronoRangers as Chrono Blue. Leaks of photographs secretly taken of her and the female co-star who played Chrono Pink undressing and using the shower have been going around, and while an assistant-director on the ChronoRangers team had to take the fall, it appears that was just a studio cover-up, and the actress suspected that one of the four male leads (who played Chrono Red, Chrono Green, Chrono Yellow and Chrono Black) was behind it all. It appears she had confronted the person she suspected, who then stabbed her in the stomach. However, the actress hadn't died immediately, and for some reason, she pulled the knife out of her body to carve an X in her arm, and she removed her watch and necklace too. But why? It's one of those dying message stories that depends on rather specific knowledge to make any sense, and while Norizuki tries to set-up the decisive clue, it still doesn't take away from the fact that you won't be able to solve this unless you happen to know about a certain piece of trivia.

Yuurei wo Yatotta Onna ("The Woman Who Hired A Ghost") is a pastiche of Tsuzuki Michio's Quart Gallon series, which in turn was a pastiche of Ed McBain's hardboiled mystery I'm Cannon - For Hire (credited as Curt Cannon). Gallon was once a private detective who nearly committed a double murder after finding his wife and his best friend in the same bed, and now he lives in the Bowery, deprived of his credentials. Which doesn't stop people from trying to hire him anyway. A woman hires Gallon to find out what's wrong with her husband. The husband has been lost in thought the last week, and even bought a gun 'for protection', even though nothing has happened in the artists' shop he runs. An okay hardboiled story, but the title gives the game away, I think.

Shiramitsubushi no Tokei ("Leave No Clock Unturned") is the title story and the masterpiece of this collection. "You" find yourself waking up in a small, round room completely encircled by a hall as part of a job interview for a leading think tank. There are no windows in these rooms and the temperature inside is completely computer-controlled. In the hallway, "you" find 1440 different running clocks, each indicating a different time down to the minute (12:00, 12:01, 12:02 etc.). "Your" assignment: figure out which of these 1440 clocks is indicating the correct time, within a time limit of six hours! This is a true puzzler, with a truly devilish conundrum, for how are you going to find out the correct time if there's a clock for every minute of the day, which are obviously all running as you're working on the problem, and you can't even look outside to guess what time it should be! Norizuki however shows a perfectly logical manner to find the correct clock among the 1440 clocks. Shiramitsubushi no Tokei does feel more like a logic puzzle or quiz rather than literature, I admit, but man, this is what you'd expect from a mystery writer who places so much emphasis on logical reasoning like Norizuki! 

Two Of Us has an interesting backstory: it was originally written for the Kyoto University Mystery Club's club anthology Souanoshiro, which is sold at the annual campus festival in November. I have actually seen the original version of this story myself in one of the old Souanoshiros while I was in Kyoto. The story does feature Norizuki's characters Rintarou and his father Inspector Norizuki, though the spelling of Rintarou's name is different, as Norizuki Rintarou changed the spelling of his name when he became a professional author (if you go through the old Mystery Club magazines, you'll only find the old spelling). Two of Us was eventually rewritten to a full novel in the Rintarou series titled Ni no Higeki. Neither the novel, nor this original short story version would count towards my favorite Norizuki's to be honest, as the emphasis in this novel lies far more on the human relations than the deductions of Rintarou. In fact, for the true logic puzzlers you're off much better with the Rintarou short stories, as save for some early entries, the novels never really manage to be as awesome as the short stories in terms of pure puzzle plots.

So personally, I can't say Shiramitsushi no Tokeiwas my favorite Norizuki short story collection, with a very simple reason: all the awesome puzzle plot short stories we saw in the Rintarou short story collections weren't to be found here. If you are not as puzzle-plot focused as I am, you might enjoy the sheer variety of this collection, and at any rate, the title story Shiramitsubushi no Tokei is really a masterpiece, but in general, I'd say try out Norizuki's other short story collections before coming here.

Original Japanese title(s): 法月綸太郎　『しらみつぶしの時計』：「使用中」/「ダブル・プレイ」/「素人芸」/「盗まれた手紙」/「イン・メモリアム」/「猫の巡礼」/「四色問題」/「幽霊をやとった女」/「しらみつぶしの時計」/「トゥ・オブ・アス」

Earlier this week, the Japanese news reported heavily on the announcement by baseball player Suzuki Ichirou, better known as simply Ichiro, that he was retiring. The mass attention for this announcement was not surprising. I myself know nothing about baseball, but Ichiro is known as one of the most famous athletes of Japan ever, and is a popular sportsman in both the American Major League and his home country. But to mystery fans, he is perhaps better known as that one murderer.

For Ichiro once starred in an episode of the television drama Furuhata Ninzaburou. In fact, it was only through Furuhata Ninzaburou that I first heard of him and because it has been a while, I decided to pop the DVD in again last night. The inverted mystery show Furuhata Ninzaburou, conceived by playwright Mitani Kouki, ran for three seasons and one final special season between 1994-2006 and was heavily inspired by Columbo. The show starred the somewhat eccentric, peculiar and very petty Lieutenant Furuhata of the Tokyo police, assisted by his bumbling subordinate Imaizumi and later the capable, but close-minded Saionji as they tackled cases in which we, the viewer, already knew who committed the crime and how and where like in Columbo, the fun was in seeing how Furuhata was going to solve the case. One unique characteristic of the show was that Furuhata talked directly to the viewer twice: in the avant-title, he'd start with a random story or observation which usually turns out to have something to do with the main story, whereas in the latter half of the episode, he'd always challenge the viewer directly when he figured the whole thing out, asking the viewer whether they got the answer too.

Furuhata Ninzaburou Final was broadcast in 2006 and consisted of three long specials and in the second episode, The Fair Murderer, we are introduced to the famous baseball player Ichiro who plays in the MLB in the States. In the avant-title, Furuhata assures us by the way that the Ichiro in this episode just happens to share his name with a certain famous Japanese MLB player and who also just happens to look exactly like that other man. Ichiro is back in Japan for a charity event for children. On the day of his arrival, Furuhata and his subordinates Imaizumi and Saijonji visit the hotel where Ichiro is staying, to visit their old friend and former colleague Mukoujima. Mukoujima recently quit his job as a police constable to work at this hotel as a security guard. To their great surprise, they see Ichiro himself coming down to the guards' office to have a chat with Mukoujima whining about wanting to get out for a quick snack, and it's only afterwards that they learn that Ichiro is in fact Mukoujima's younger half-brother. What they do not learn however is that Mukoujima's been blackmailed for some time now by a sleazy reporter with the name Kooriyama, who has not only found out a minor slip-up Mukoujima made when he was a police officer, but the man also knows he's the brother of Ichiro. Fearing his own slip-up will ruin Ichiro's sports career, Mukoujima plans to kill Kooriyama, but realizing his older brother will never be able to pull such a scheme succesfully Ichiro decides to murder the man himself to save his brother. After the body of Kooriyama is discovered in the underground parking lot of the hotel, Furuhata quickly realizes he's dealing with a strange murderer this time, because the killer has left clues on purpose, as if they are hoping for a fair game with the police...


What makes this episode so memorable is of course that Ichiro is really just playing himself. Apparently, the character in this episode was originally planned to be called "Hachiro", but Ichiro himself proposed to use his real name, and it results in a very strange experience where reality and fiction is mixed. This had happened before in this series by the way, when the five members of the boy band SMAP played themselves in a story where SMAP killed a blackmailer duringtheir concert. What's also surprising about the Ichiro episode however is that... Ichiro's actually pretty good at acting. I mean, I guess playing yourself helps, but he really didn't feel out of his league compared to the other professional actors in the episode.


The core mystery plot of the episode is a bit simple, though that has an in-universe explanation, as Ichiro only took over from his brother at the last moment, and most importantly, Ichiro is portrayed as a sportsman who enjoys the game. Throughout the episode, he states he likes to play fair and square, which is why he left one clue at the crime scene so the police'd have a chance at getting to him, and throughout the episode, he never lies to the police to protect himself. In fact, Furuhata soon realizes what is going on, and even suggests that if he were to ask Ichiro on the spot whether he was the murderer, he was sure Ichiro'd sooner admit to the fact honestly rather than lie. This idea of a 'fair-play' murderer who tries to get away while not coming up with elaborate alibi tricks and similar idas definitely helps the otherwise simple mystery plot, really changing it into a game of wits, as Furuhata himself is too proud too to get Ichiro in a simple manner, and wants the sportsman to admit defeat on his own. The way Ichiro is finally caught is incredibly common in inverted mystery fiction, so it's not really shocking, but there are a few scenes that are memorable from a mystery point of view, for example the unique way in which Ichiro decides to get rid of a damning piece of evidence (only possible because he's Ichiro) and the initial deduction of Furuhata which first set him on Ichiro's trail.

If you have the occasion to watch this episode of Furuhata Ninzaburou, I can definitely recommend it. It's incredibly fun to see Ichiro playing himself as a murderer, and while the core plot might seem a bit too familiar at times, the little things in the script that help cement the idea that it's really Ichiro who committed the murder do really help set this episode apart in a series which is already full with memorable murderers.

Original Japanese title(s): 『フェアな殺人者』

I tried to delay writing this review a couple of times: I just have so little to say about it. I really dislike writing reviews about books I feel somewhat indifferent about. With books I don't like, I can at least point out what I don't like and make comparisons with better examples with similar ideas. With great indifference comes... a great distinct lack of writing hooks. At least in my case.

Getting in the special crimes division had been rookie detective Kominato Shinsuke's wish, so there was much joy when he was appointed there as the subordinate of the veteran Umikata Fusanari. At least, that was until he learned that Umikata was an extremely lazy detective and that Kominato was mainly appointed to him to keep an eye on his boss. So he cherished his free days when he was released from babysitting Umikata, but his day at the horse races turned into a normal working day nonetheless. The man standing behind Kominato in the crowd was stabbed, falling on top of him, making him the first person to "find" the victim. When Umikata arrives at the scene, the veteran quickly recognizes the murder as the handiwork of Tsutsumi, a local gangster he knows. While not a professional assassin, Tsutsumi has committed several murders for his gang and Umikata says there's no need for the police to look for him: the orders for these kind of men are not just to kill their target, but also to confess to the murder with some fake, private motive and do the time for them so the gang won't face any trouble from this. The news that Tsutsumi himself was killed right after the first murder therefore came as a surprise to Umikata, but they quickly figure out who Tsutsumi's murderer is. But then this person is killed too... What lies behind this chain of murders in Awasaka Tsumao's Shisha no Rinbu ("Rondo of the Dead", 1985)?

This is the first of Awasaka's two novels starring the duo of police inspectors Umikata and Kominato, which now I think about it is pretty interesting, as practically all the books I've read by Awasaka up until now featured amateur detectives (EDIT: Yeah, I read this book and wrote this review long before I read Youtou S79-Gou. I shuffled a lot with this review) Well, A Tomoichirou was technically a secret agent of the Tokugawa Shogunate so something like a police officer, but his descendant A Aiichirou is a photographer, and other books featured for example magicians as detectives, or an ex-boxer-turned-financial-detective... I was kinda surprised to see a normal police detective duo as the protagonists. But once you see the banter between Umikata and Kominato, you're quickly reminded that you are indeed reading an Awasaka novel, as the comedic tone is instantly recognizable. In this novel, most of the comedy is derived from the very lazy inspector Umikata and the way he uses his subordinate Kominato. Umikata is actually a fairly competent detective when he puts his mind to it, being capable to make sharp deductions based on the smallest of hints, but he usually prefers the easy way out of things, and would rather have things sort themselves out than having to interfere himself.

We are not presented with an impossible crime or something similar this time, but an enigmatic problem that is featured in both the title of the novel, as well as revealed quite early in the narrative: there is some kind of murder relay going on, with the murderers of one case turning into the victims of the next one. This theory is proposed by Umikata very early on, and most of the novel is therefore not really spent on figuring whodunnit, or even howdunnit, but finding out why this is happening, and how they can stop it. One gripe I have with this novel is that the device of a murder relay is made clear very early on in this book, but there's little extra added to the plot from that point on. Most of the book is seeing how the relay further unfolds with the police as mere onlookers after the fact, so for a very long time, it feels you're reading about events you already knew were coming. As a mystery novel, I think the idea is that the appeal comes from guessing how this relay will eventually end, and Awasaka does play with the conclusion of this game, but on the whole, I'd say Shisha no Rinbu is a better in idea than execution. Whereas his debut novel 11 Mai no Trump was a tour-de-force in clewing, Shisha no Rinbu's clewing is pragmatic at best, as it's boring and hastily done, without properly going through the process of foreshadowing ~ pay-off.

"Simply going through the motions" is not the right way to explain it, but Shisha no Rinbu's plot feels so...bare compared to other Awasaka's novels. The initial idea of the murder relay is definitely alluring, but then it just... happens and there is little there to turn the idea into a real experience. The comedy between Umikata and Kominato is okay, but never as fun as in the A Aiichirou series. The captivating insight into special fields of interests like stage magic or toys as seen in other novels isn't here either. The expect and subtle clewing and foreshadowing that made other novels a delight is nowhere to be seen here. There's just too little in addition to the first idea, and while I wouldn't say Shisha no Rinbu is a bad novel, I have read enough Awasaka by now to know he could do much, much better than here.

And because the overall plot is fairly light, there's little I can add to what I've already said by now. Shisha no Rinbu has a great starting point with a murder relay as the focus, but it does not try to go far beyond this initial idea, resulting in a novel that feels a bit barren. The conclusion too will not come as a total surprise, and yet you feel it could've been pulled off better if we had seen more of Awasaka's A game here. So a missed chance here.

Original Japanese title(s): 泡坂妻夫　『死者の輪舞』

Last year, I reviewed Ashibe Taku's Double Mystery, which had an interesting set-up as a physical product: the book consisted of two seperate narratives, each starting at a different end of the book. You could start reading from either side, and in the middle (where the two narratives meet), there was a sealed section, which you had to cut open to find out the solution to the two mysteries presented. ....And next I was going to write that somebody in the comment section there dropped the name Dennis Wheatley in regards to me writing about sealed pages in mystery fiction and how you'd sometimes see them in relatively modern Japanese publications, but.... there's no such comment. Huh. So err, I totally forgot where I first learned of the name Dennis Wheatley. Anyway, Wheatley was an English writer and in the 1930s, he came up with a series of mystery fiction not presented in a novel (story) form, but as actual case files. Inside the folder-like productions, you'd find official police reports, photographs, telegrams, handwritten letters and other physical pieces of evidence like strands of hair and matches. The idea was that you'd get to examine all the facts and evidence yourself. At the end of the booklet, you find a section with sealed pages, and by cutting them open, you could find out whether your solution to the mystery presented was correct.

A while ago, I happened to come across a complete copy of the first of the four Crime Dossiers Dennis Wheatley and writing partner J.G. Links published, titled Murder Off Miami (1934). When you open the folder, you first find a telegram sent from the yacht the Golden Gull, which had left Miami earlier that evening. One of the guests on board of the Golden Gull, the British soap magnate Bolitho Blane, had apparently committed suicide during its trip, prompting the immediate return of the Gull. The next document you find is an internal police memo where Police Captain Schwab puts Inspector Kettering on the case. The Golden Gull is the property of Carlton Rocksavage, a rival soap magnate who lately had been in a very fierce product war with Blane, leaving both of them close to self-destruction. Blane had been invited for the yacht trip, among some other guests of Rocksavage and his daughter, to see if they could work something out that would be less harmful to both of them. Before dinner however, Blane disappeared from the yacht, and in his place a suicide note was found. At first, the case seems simple, but some marks in the carpet indicating a body had been pulled across it then appear to suggest Blane didn't jump out of the window of his cabin on his own. What follows are all the police reports (with the testimonies of all the witnesses and suspects) and the evidence found by Kettering addressed to Schwab. At the end, it seems Kettering is completely baffled by the events, but Schwab manages to solve the whole case based solely on everything Kettering himself had gathered.

I have not played any real Escape Room games myself yet, but I had to think of them constantly as I was going through Murder Off Miami, for the basic concept is the same: within a very minimalistic approach to narrative, "you" (the reader/player) use "real" evidence and reports to solve the crime yourself. It is a game set-up in a sense, but modern mystery videogames are narratively speaking far, far deeper than what Murder Off Miami offers. The whole "narrative" of Murder Off Miami is solely presented through official documents and piece of evidence, so as a tale it's rather bare-bones. You won't be here for the deep characterization, the witty author's voice or for some quotable prose. The exact intention might not be the same, and there is of course the limitations in technology back then, but an actual videogame nowadays usually offers everythingMurder Off Miami has (you basically always collect evidence and testimonies in mystery games), but usually presented with an actual story and characters, rather than getting to know everybody through police testimonies. Again, presenting a prose story is not the intention of Wheatly and Links here, but I think it is worth noting that Murder Off Miami will remind of modern mystery videogames, but is at the heart also very different.

The goal is to put yourself in the place of Captain Schwab, and figure out what happened to Blane aboard the Golden Gull based solely on the information obtained from the dossier. As you go through the five different reports of Kettering, you get to know the cast of suspects, among them a wealthy widow who's whole fortune depends on Rocksavage making it through, a Japanese negiotiator who hopes to get a soap deal for his government and a sly society man who is more than meets the eye. But you'll also find a wealth of other evidence: photographs taken from the suspects during their police interviews, a lot of handwritten letters (even on in Japanese!), telegrams, diagrams of the Golden Gull. Heck, even strands of hair retrieved from a comb and a match are included in the dossier!


Given you get all these kinds of documents and pieces of evidence, you of course expect the mystery plot to make use of this fantastic gimmick, right? And in a way, it does. And in a way, it does not. First of all, I think the main mystery is perfectly solvable without even looking at the physical evidence like the hairs and photographs. It's pretty easy to figure out who did it (even if the motive is a bit... undeveloped) based solely on the police interviews. In fact, I pretty much guessed who'd it was in the very first report, even before I got to the photographs and stuff, and all the subsequent reports by Kettering only support my theory. And once you figured out who did it, all the rest is just bonus points. That said, the physical evidence collected in the dossier does help further support the solution, though some of these clues can be a bit hard to figure out (the printing isn't really good and some of the clues I shrugged off as "I totally thought that was how things were in the 30s). I would guess that most people who are able to solve this mystery, figure it out based on the police interviews. Once you think you're done, you have to cut open the seal of the last few pages, in which Schwab explains to Kettering who the murderer is and how he figured it out. My copy was already unsealed of course, but if you happen to have a copy too, you could just seal it yourself with some tape before you start with it, of course.

When these dossiers were first published, there were of course worries about whether they would sell, as they took on a very curious form. In fact, it's insane how they did these books. Everything is printed in different kinds of paper in different formats (the telegram is small on cheap paper, the police reports are on typing paper, a letter is written on good quality paper), there's a sealed section in the back, there's friggin' hair and a match in a little plastic bag... No normal publisher could just print and bind the thing, so it must've taken a lot of labor to put these things together. The whole package reminds more of a board game than a book. Apparently, Murder Off Miami managed to sell 120,000 copies within six months (and it is even said Queen Mary bought six copies on release date), so it definitely did hit it off with this concept, but was it really necessary to publish Murder Off Miami in this manner, in the sense that the mystery plot actually demanded this? No. Not really. They could have just printed the whole thing like a normal book, with photographs of the evidence and it'd still work exactly the same. Of course, it's more fun the way they did, but practical, it certainly was not. Apparently, they later made cheaper versions of the four Crime Dossiers without the physical evidence, sealed pages and the ten types of paper and ink and stuff, and at least for Murder Off Miami, I can't see it hurting the mystery plot in any manner. Funnily enough, it appears there's an actual videogame based of Murder Off Miami too.

I did enjoy Murder Off Miami as an experience: it's really fun going through all the police reports and looking with your own eyes, and even holding all the evidence that is usually just described in a few sentences in a story. As a mystery story however, Murder Off Miami is a bit simple, and it's not a story that is made possible because of the concept, but more a story that also makes use of the concept. So that was a bit disappointing, because I was expecting san experience that could only be presented in this way. As complete, good condition copies of the actual dossiers aren't really cheap, I think that if I were to return to this series, I'll try to find the cheaper reprinted versions.

Hmmm, this review is probably far longer than it should be. My reviews for Mitsuda's work always end up so talkative, even though I usually aim at something slightly shorter. Also: for some reason I always get fewer comments on my reviews whenever it's about a Western novel instead of a Japanese novel. It's not like I expect people to comment each and every time, but I expected more people to comment on Murder off Miami considering the gimmick and the fact it's actually available in English. Oh well.

Ever since I read Mitsuda Shinzou's Kubinashi no Gotoki Tataru Mono last year, I became a great fan of his Toujou Genya series. The series mixes brilliantly complex mystery plots with deep insights in local folklore, religions and history together with a distintive horror tone, resulting in absolutely amazing novels, and all four novels I've read until now were almost ridiculously good. In the reviews, I also mentioned that the novels were all relatively long, though they do make good use of their length. That said, I was curious whether this series could also work in a shorter form. Ikidama no Gotoki Daburu Mono ("Those Who Turn Double Like The Eidola", 2011) is the second short story collection of the series. Second? Yeah, I never read things in order. And it appears the series itself is also jumping in time. In the novels I've read until now, Toujou Genya is a horror/occult writer in the early fifties, who travels across Japan to research folklore, especially in the form of yokai, ghosts and other supernatural beings. This short story collection however is set several years before he started his professional writing career. In the five stories of this volume, which are set more-or-less one after another, Toujou Genya is still a college student not long after World War II, studying folklore in Tokyo under the guidance of professor Kimura Yumio. Genya has a 'gift' for running into mysterious, often seemingly impossible crime situations, occassionally due to the meddling of Abukumagawa Karasu, an immensely arrogant senior student who considers Genya his "disciple". Genya himself doesn't like getting into trouble of course and even when confronted with murder, he'd prefer let the police to their job, but sometimes the people around learn the fact that his father is in fact Toujou Gajou, the greatest detective of Japan whom even the police relies on in the most baffling of cases. While he and his father don't get along, it seems Genya has certainly inherited some of his father's mind, as the young student is quite capable of making sense of the numerous impossible murders and disappearances commited within the pages of this book.

In case you were wondering: yes, this book is still quite long, despite being a short story collection. Each of the stories is relatively long for a short story, so you end up with a book that isn't any shorter than the usual novels in this series. Despite their (relatively) reasonable length, the short stories are of course still quite different from the full novels, but they still follow a similar set-up, with at the heart usually a impossible situation as the main mystery plot, which usually ties up to some folklore or ghost story. The insane synergy between the various elements like you find the novels is of course not as pronounced in these shorter entries, but structure-wise, most of these stories are still very well-designed mystery stories, featuring all the tropes you'd want from a Toujou Genya story, including clever ways in which the background ghost/folklore story tying to the actual mystery and of course the multiple solutions.

The book starts with Shiryou no Gotoki Aruku Mono ("Those Who Walk Like The Dead Spirits"), which is set around New Year. Genya is the guest of Motomiya Takeshi, a professor in anthropology, specializing in African masks. Genya's teacher Kimura introduced Genya to this authority in anthropology. Genya isn't the only guest, as Motomiya also has four acadamics from various universities staying at his home during the New Year. Genya soon realizes that all four men are also interested in the daughter of Motomiya. One night, the scholars are exchanging scary stories, and Isaka Atsunori (an assistant-professor in spirit religions at Jounan University) tells about an experience he had with the Sugsho Tribe, where he was witness to a seance: during the seance he heard footsteps beneath their hut, which was supposedly the spirit walking beneath them. Afterwards, he indeed found footprints there, but while he at first thought somebody must've snuck below their hut, he realized later were no footprints going to or away from that spot, meaning no man could've left them there.

The four permanent guests of Motomiya live in a special annex building, The Four Quarters. As its name suggests, the building consists of four seperate quarters and one main hall with a tower: the four quarters form a square together encircling the inner court, while the main hall is situated between the rooms on the lower left and right corner when looked at the building from the sky. Covered passages connect these quarters (and the main hall), but curiously enough, the passages only connect to the closest quarter, so to get from the eastern passage to the southern passage, one must go inside the south-east quarter and take the other door out to the southern passage. The four scholars using the quarters have all set-up their interiors so bookcases shield off the two doors from the rest of the room, so unless you have business with the master of the room, it's the custom to just do a courtesy knock and then quickly slip in out and of the room. The day after the scary stories, Genya visits Inoda Fujio in his quarters, but Genya becomes witness to two baffling scenes. First he sees a pair of sandals walking on their own near the entrance to the snow-covered inner court, and when he looks out there, he notices Isaka lying in the pavillion in the court. The man has been poisoned by a poison of the Sugsho Tribe, but what makes this murder kooky is that there is only one set of footprints left in the snow that indicate how the murderer must've gotten away from the pavillion, but they don't make any sense:they walk away from Isaka, turn around once, and then back to go inside the main hall. But with a witness in the main hall, and Genya's own eyewitness of the walking sandals, it seems the only one who could've struck Isaka with a poisoned weapon, and then walked back into the main hall on sandals across the snow was an invisible spirit.

Sorry for the tediously long summary. To keep the rest short: this is an excellent footprints-in-the-snow story. Like the novels, the story revolves around a background folklore story with some supernatural elements, which then occurs in real-life (in this case, an invisible spirit that leaves footprints). There's a lot going on in this story, but what's impressive is that this one of those stories where suddenly everything falls in place once you realize what is going on. The clewing is really good in this story too, though it does help if you have some knowledge about Japanese culture (there is a kind of negative clue here, that really gives away everything once you know what it is, but it might be hard arriving at this if you have never heard of this custom).

In Tenma no Gotoki Tobu Mono ("Those Who Fly Like The Demons"), Abukumagawa Karasu tells Genya about the Mitsukuri family, which has a unique family kami they have deified. Outside their home is a small bamboo grove, which ends at a cliff. Long ago, Mitsukuri Muna'aki disappeared in the small bamboo grove even though his grandchildren were watching him and he was only out of their sight for a second due to the bamboo trees. Later, Muna'aki's son Munatoshi learned that in the past, a demon was supposed to live in the grove, so he decided to pacify both his disappeared father and the demon with a small shrine. The disappearances didn't stop there however, for during the war, a child too disappeared from the backyard of the Mitsukuris: a boy had crept inside to steal, but was found and tried to run away. Eventually, they found his footsteps running in the direction of the grove, but mysteriously, the footsteps stopped suddenly, as if the boy had been pulled right into the sky. There was no sign of the boy anywhere inside the grove. Later, the body of the boy was found beneath the cliff. Abukumagawa and Genya travel to the Mitsukuri home hoping to be able to study the Mitsukuri family deities, and their timing is almost mysteriously perfect. They learn a girl (the younger sister of the boy who died) was lurking around the house too, and to their horrible surprise, they find her footprints near the grove, but like her brother's, they too stopped mid-track, with no trace of the girl herself.

Another impossible footprints story, though this one is a bit easier to solve, I think. The mystery lies in how the person leaving the footprints could've suddenly disappeared, with no third party close by, nor anywhere where they could've gone. The basic idea behind the solution isn't hard to arrive at, but  it does rely partially on something which seems... well, not impossible perhaps, but perhaps a bit unlikely? There's a second mystery in the very last act of the story, where Genya is convinced something is hidden within a room but can't find it. The clue pointing to the actual location is integrated really well in the story, but the actual location itself seems rather farfetched too. I actually think this story, while not bad, is actually in terms of structuring and clewing than the actual solution revealed.

Shirou no Gotoki Shitataru Mono ("Those Who Drip Like Corpse Wax") is the third and last story about impossible footprints in this collection. After the events of the opening story, Professor Motomiya learns that Genya is an aspiring horror writer, and decides to reveals to Genya that his friend Professor Tsuchibuchi of Jounan University is actually the famous horror writer Inoki Miroku and offers to introduce him to the professor, knowing that there is one other thing at the Tsuchibuchi manor which will interest Genya. Tsuchibuchi's father Shouzou had started his own Miroku (Maitreya) sect and eventually decided to practice sokushinbutsu. This is a practice where the goal is to mummify one's own body while alive, by meditating in a hole in the ground without taking food or water, as so to "turn into a Buddha instantly." Obviously, Shouzou died while doing this. After Shouzou's death, rumors went his mummy haunted three of his former followers, who had betrayed him, but in fact the mummy is buried on the small island in the middle of the large pond in the garden of Tsuchuchi manor. Genya is introduced to Professor Tsuchibuchi and his family and is offered a bed that night, but near the morning, he is awakened by the call of the professor outside. The body of a woman (one of the people renting a room in the large manor) is lying dead on the island in the pond and Genya also notices there are only two sets of footprints in the snow on both the bridge and in the garden: those of the victim herself, and those of the professor himself as he walked up to the body. The professor has an alibi for the night, so how was the woman killed on the island if nobody else left any footprints?

Oh man, this is one densely structured impossible crime story, with a lot of fake solutions. False solutions are a major trope in the Toujou Genya stories, but whereas it's easy to imagine how Mitsuda can work with them in a long novel, it's amazing to see how he can bring the same complexity to a story that it's only a fifth of the lenght of his regular novels! Each of the false solutions doesn't come out of nowhere, but is properly clewed, and the way they are eventually dismissed is of course also founded upon actual clews presented to you in a fair way, or dismissed on perfectly logical grounds. The final solution is great too: what makes this one especially memorable is how a seemingly supernatural event mentioned by a young witness suddenly makes perfect sense, making the supernatural suddenly extremely realistic.

The title story Ikidama no Gotoki Daburu Mono ("Those Who Turn Double Like The Eidola") is not about footprints, but about ikidama or eidola, or doppelganger spirits. Yachio Ryuunosuke is a student who hopes to pick Genya's mind on a certain family matter. It was only during the war when he was still a child, that Ryuunosuke realized the man who used to visit him and his mother once a month was actually his father and that his mother was his mistress. During the war however, Ryuunosuke's mother sent her son to Yachio Takeru's home to be faraway from the bombs falling on Tokyo, though she herself didn't go because of her pride, and she eventually perished in the war. At Takeru's home, Ryuunosuke learned he was Takeru's third son. Takeru's official wife had already passed away, leaving only their eldest son Kumanosuke. Tomoko, another mistress of Takeru, is the mother of Takeru's second son Toranosuke. Tomoko is staying at Takeru's home too, as Toranosuke had gone off to the battlefield as a brave soldier, while Kumanosuke, born with a weak body, had not been drafted. During his stay, Ryuunosuke realizes Tomoko is hoping to become Takeru's new wife and have Toranosuke become Takeru's new heir, but the war changes everything. His bad health eventually kills Kumanosuke and Toranasuke too is declared dead by the authorities at the end of the war. However it turns he's not dead and he does return from the war with horrible injuries to his face, and partial amnesia. Two years later however, another person appears who claims he's Toranosuke and not even his mother can tell which one of them is the real. This leaves the Yachios with a big problem, for who of the two is to become Takeru's heir?

The main problem reminds of Yokomizo Seishi The Inugami Clan, with an heir coming back from the battlefield with horrible injuries to the face, making it impossible to know whether they are really the person they claim to be (a theme that you'll find in other works by Yokomizo). In this story, Genya is asked to figure out which of the two is real, and things take an unexpected turn when one of the Toranosukes apparently commits suicide. While this story does not feature a situation that is as clearly defined as the previous 'footprints in the snow' theme (it is hard to imagine how Genya will figure out who the real Toranosuke is), this story is actually incredibly well-plotted and clewed. I praised the previous story for its complexity with fake solutions: this one builds even further on that theme, with Genya proposing like half a dozen hypotheses about who the real Toranasuke would be, who the fake Toranosuke would be and several different motives. It's amazing how many hints and clues Mitsuda has managed to stuff into this story, but every hypothesis is properly supported by all the foreshadowing and never feels like it's suddenly dropped on you. The way each hypothesis eventually leads into each other, ending with Genya's surprising final conclusion is absolutely fantastic, and reminds of the way Genya does his thing in the longer novels too.

In the final story, Kaonashi no Gotoki Sarau Mono ("Those Who Abduct Like The Faceless"), Genya invites himself to a small gathering of students who hang around to tell each other scary stories. One of them, Hirata, tells about how when he was a child, he saw a kid disappear. He used to live in a nagaya'row house', with several residences housed in one long building. One of his friends was Yuuki, who was of one of the better-to-do families in the nagaya neigborhood (at least, his family thought so). Around New Year, travelling perfomers would come to the neigborhood and do their act, but that year, Yuuki said he realized that one of those performers was a burglar, and that he had recognized him. He said he'd confront the performer, so he went alone into the small secluded corner of the nagaya block, where the performers were. That particular spot is basically a cul-de-sac: most of that little spot is blocked off by the nagaya houses and the east side is completely blocked by the river (and a high fence). There are only two entrances to the place: either just by going through the front passing by the nagaya houses and turning the corner, or taking the gate at the northern part of that spot, but that gate is usually locked, with the key in the possession of those who move out the human waste. Hirata was waiting for Yuuki to return, but eventually, the performers all left that spot one by one and when Hirata took a look, he found Yuuki had disappeared. Yuuki had obviously not left with the performers, nor was there any other exit by which he could've left without Hirata, or some other passerby notice him, so how did Yuuki disappear? The solution can be guessed pretty easily, though you'll have to make sure you're not going for the false solution, as there are plenty of them once again. What makes this story memorable however is how Mitsuda eventually shifts the focus of the problem to the practical how: while the basic idea of how it was done seems simple enough, the problem of actually arranging and executing it is actually far more complex, and the explanation Genya gives of how it was done is chillingly horrible. It's more of a psychological explanation at heart, but Mitsuda does go the effort to hint this through another part of the story, and it works mostly.

For a short story collection that is only five stories long, this review has been incredibly long I think, so I'll get to the conclusion right away. Ikidama no Gotoki Daburu Mono is an excellent short story collection that is mostly focused on impossible situations, and almost miraculously, it also managed to utilize the complex plot structures of the (very) long novels in these shorter stories. Folklore serving as a background story and clue to the main mystery plot, devilishly constructed false solutions and so many subtle clues: everything you'd expect from a Toujou Genya story is to be found here too. This series has yet to disappoint, and I very doubt it will ever, considering the crazy quality of each of the entries I've read until now.

Original Japanese title(s):  三津田信三『生霊の如き重るもの』:「死霊の如き歩くもの」/「天魔の如き跳ぶもの」/「屍蝋の如き滴るもの」/「生霊の如き重るもの」/「顔無の如き攫うもの」

It ain't April unless there's a new Detective Conan theatrical release, coupled with the release of a new volume of the manga. And yep, last year was really weird because of that, as Detective Conan:Zero the Enforcer was released on its own, and there was only one lonely volume released in October for the whole of 2018. But now we're in 2019, and Detective Conan: The Fist of the Blue Sapphire has been released in theaters a few days ago. The screenplay is by Ookura Takahiro, writer of the Lieutenant Fukuie series and the excellent Detective Conan movie The Crimson Love Letter, so while the premise of the movie doesn't seem really interesting to me, I'll be sure to catch the home video release later this year in the hopes it'll actually turn out to be really awesome.

But this year, the release of the new movie was also accompanied by a new volume as per tradition. Detective Conan 96 (2019) is an incredibly weird volume though, and taken on its own, it's easily one of the worst volumes of the last decade or so. This is not because of the story contents per se, but has everything to do with the way the comic is serialized. Because each volume has the same amount of chapters, but stories don't always have the same number of chapters, most volumes usually don't end in a neat matter, but often the last story in a volume will continue in the next volume (and a volume therefore usually starts with the remaining chapters of the story that started in the previous volume). In Detective Conan 96, this ends up in the worse possible manner, as it basically only contains one single complete story: a good part of The Targeted Female Police Officers is collected in volume 95, while The Deadly TV Drama Shooting will be finished in volume 97 scheduled for this fall. So if you read this volume, you'll find more incomplete stories than complete ones!

I already briefly mentioned The Targeted Female Police Officers in my review of volume 95, but as the title suggests, this story is about a series of murders on a few female co-workers of Yumi and Sanae in the Metropolitan Police Department's Traffic Section. One night, Sanae has gone out to the karaoke bar with her co-workers Yagi Shiori and Momosaki Touko. Yagi brings Sanae back home after she had a few too many drinks, but on her way back alone, Momosaki is lured by a suspicious figure to a park and brutally killed there. The only clue to her murderer is that it appears she had been trying to point at something as she died, but the message isn't clear. While the police is investigating however, Yagi too is murdered, making this a serial cop killing. The police quickly concludes the suspects are among the three men who were fined and detained by Yagi and Momosaki last week, as all three men claimed they had an emergency and greatly resented being detained by the two officers. The problem however lies in the message both Momosaki and Yagi left behind as they died.This dying message can be split in two parts, and I do like the first part: it's unclear what the dying message exactly is at first, but the clewing here is pretty good and makes use of the visual format. But then comes the matter of interpretation, and well, it's not too farfetched, but yeah, it's one of those solutions where you shrug and say 'sure, that makes sense', but it's not a really satisfying one. And yes, it's a solution that also relies on language, but even then it's rather open for interpretation (the second dying message by Yagi on the other hand is way too straightforward).

What does make this story somewhat memorable is how Aoyama also used the story to bring some new character development. The focus on Sanae naturally also means officer Chiba has a nice role to play in this story, but personally, I loved how that one scene from last year's Zero the Enforcerwas now given context. In case you have seen the movie: there's a shot where a certain character has a line that is unspoken, but can only be 'lip-read'. Here we finally learn what that person actually said.

In The Man Who Wanted The Lips, Suzuki Jiroukichi has come up with another scheme to catch the phantom thief KID, this time using the precious pearl Fairy Lip. A chance meeting with Inspector Morofushi of the Nagano Prefectural Police (first introduced in volume 65) gave Jiroukichi a 'brilliant' idea: the pearl is frozen in an enormous block of ice, making it possible for the museum guests to actually see the pearl, but making it impossible for KID to steal it. Meanwhile, Conan and Hattori are also present, with Hattori's mind pre-occupied with the matter that has been worrying him for some volumes now (how to say to childhood friend Kazuha he likes her romantically?). With Conan, Hattori and Morofushi all present, KID sure has a tough night ahead, but despite all the security measures, KID first manages to lock himself inside the glass cage with the ice block and making it impossible to look inside by painting the glass walls with black ink. When they finally manage to get inside, they find that KID has left a card thanking them for the pearl, and also leaving Jiroukichi with a present: countless of pigment-colored Fairly Lips etched inside the ice block itself as ice art. Overall, I'd say this is a fairly weak KID story: it's quite easy to guess how KID managed to steal the pearl and while usually, these kind of stories revolve around who KID disguised himself as is also of importance, this time we're told right from the start who it is, and his secret identity is mostly used as a a gag from that point on.

Similar to the previous story however, this story is also used to further set-up future events for the main storyline. Like I mentioned in my review, the last volume seemed to be moving pieces around for Aoyama to work towards a story climax, or perhaps even the series finale, and this story does that too by revealing the relationship between several characters. By now, it's also kinda silly how many characters in the Detective Conan world turn out to have some relationship with another significant character, but I'm interested to see how this will work out in the future. I also believe this is the first story in the manga where both KID and Hattori appear. They have appeared in the same movies a couple of times, but even in those movies, never really met face-to-face (or at least, not without KID being in disguise). And was that a reference to The Last Wizard of the Century? Usually, the manga makes no direct references to the events that occur in the movies (while mostly seperate stories, some elements from the movies, like character backstories, are part of the Conan manga storyline), but this was a fairly direct reference...

The Deadly TV Drama Shooting starts with Ran, Conan, Sera, Sonoko and her boyfriend Kyougoku Makoto (who plays a lead role in the 2019 movie Detective Conan: The Fist of the Blue Sapphire) watching the latest hit movie Azengers (ft. Kamen Yaiba.). On their way back, Kyougoku (a karate champion) knocks a helmeted robber out, who turns out to be an actor for the TV drama Detective 48. Kyougoku is asked to take over the role (as he can do the stunts too), and actually does a very good job. During the shooting, the gang learns that Tokuzono Saiya, the lead actor of the drama, isn't really getting along with the other members of the cast and production team, especially due to his 'pranks' that actually caused an assistant-director to commit suicide some time earlier. Obviously, he's also the one to die in this story and he dies falling off the fourth floor of the abandoned school building they were shooting at, but the only other person on that floor when Tokuzono fell was none other than Kyougoku, who was preparing for his next stunt. If he wasn't the murderer, how did the real murderer then manage to cause Tokuzono to fall off the fourth floor? The answer... will have to wait until fall. At least, for those who read the collected volumes and avoid the serialized chapters.


I had to laugh out loud because of the Azengers part though, because earlier this week, a special cross-marketing campaign was revealed for Japan, featuring both Detective Conan: The Fist of the Blue Sapphire and Avengers: End Game. And yes, Detective Conan is really that big a phenomenon in Japan that it warrants for these kinds of promotions. Can you actually think of another detective franchise that made it this mainstream in modern pop culture?

But to come back to the main topic, Detective Conan 96 is on the whole a rather disappointing volume in terms of mystery plots. There is only one complete story included, which isn't really a high point anyway as a KID story, and The Targeted Female Police Officers too is at best an average story when compared to other who-of-the-three type of stories in this series. For longtime fans of the series (and I assume you are if you have read 96 volumes), we do get a few more puzzle pieces that relate to the main story, but on the whole, this volume has awfully little to offer, especially as it's been nearly half a year since the previous volume. Let's hope the next volume has something more substantial to offer.

Original Japanese title(s):  青山剛昌　『名探偵コナン』第96巻

The first time I ever heard of the Klein bottle was through developers' comments of the Ace Attorney game series actually, where the village of Kurain (Klein) was named after it.

The Choose-Your-Own-Adventure book Uesugi had written for a publishing contest had exceeded the page limit, so Brain Syndrome was disqualified, but to his great surprise, he was contacted by a game company called Epsilon Project, which wanted to purchase the rights to make video game out of his gamebook. Uesugi is thrilled and immediately signs the contract, but months fly by without any real contact from Epsilon. When they finally do contact Uesugi however, he's in for a surprise. Epsilon Project's adaptation of Brain Syndrome wasn't "just" a game: it would be real revolution in game technology. Using unexplored virtual reality technology in the form of the machine K2, the player is submerged in a tank while playing the game, where both audiovisual and full-body feedback give the player the feeling they're really fully immersed in the game world. Uesugi is asked to test-play the game adaptation of Brain Syndrome, together with the part-timer Risa, and both not only find the virtual world of K2 amazing, they also slowly grow closer to each other. But one day, Risa suddenly disappears after a day of work, and then Uesugi slowly starts to harbor doubts about Epsilon Project, as in hindsight, it's a bit strange that he and Risa are driven in a blinded van every day to the secret location of K2 all just to test a videogame, not to mention the other over-the-top security measures taken. Uesugi decides to look for Risa, but the answers he finds are not the ones he had expected in Okajima Futari's Klein no Tsubo ("The Klein Bottle",1989).

Okajma Futari was the pen name of the duo Inoue Izumi and Tokuyama Junichi, who were active between 1981 and 1989. Last year, I reviewed Soshite Tobira ga Tozasareta, which I didn't like particularly, but they still had a few interesting titles in their bibliography I wanted to read. Klein no Tsubo was the last novel pubished under the Okajima Futari name, as they officially disbanded after the release of this novel, and most of the book was actually written by the Inoue half.

The historical lens is something you also often use when reading fiction, as ideas, tropes and customs all change with time, and what might be a brilliant concept at the original of release, might literally be old-fashioned in another time. The same with the mystery genre of course, where many ideas seen in the Father Brown stories seem rather unoriginal nowadays, but that's because everyone in the century after their release has been borrowing ideas from them. Concepts that were groundbreaking at one time are very likely to be commonplace some decades later. And that is definitely the case with Klein no Tsubo.

In 1989, I am sure that virtual reality and related fields were still quite original and not deeply explored yet in mystery fiction. But nowadays, even the smartphone in your pocket is capable to do some form of VR. Haptic feedback, super-realistic AI and words created in a digital realm: it's not uncommon anymore in this world. Movies about virtual worlds that seem realistic to the protagonists have been quite common since the 1990s, and especially since the 2000s we've seen countless of movies and series about people finding themselves in super-realistic virtual game worlds that seem almost real.

Reading Klein no Tsubo in 2019 (okay, I read this novel in 2018. It's only the review which is published in 2019) sadly enough offers far too few surprises. As a mystery thriller, it does absolutely nothing you haven't seen before if you have been around and consumed popular culture the last two, three decades. Mind you, Klein no Tsubo does nothing wrong at all and can be an entertaining read (don't expect a puzzle plot mystery though), but the times have already gone far beyond everything done or discussed in this novel. Some of the plot twists in Klein no Tsubo might genuinely have been shocking and creepy in 1989: but by now even something like a Treehouse of Horror episode of The Simpsons will have not only used those same ideas, but gone beyond that. Nothing Klein no Tsubo as a thriller does, can possibly be a real surprise to someone now.

I think thematically,  Klein no Tsubo is a strong novel, and to repeat myself, it's a perfectly fine thriller that is competently written, but this is an example where you can really feel how time, and Zeitgeist, has made this novel not only outdated, but perhaps even obsolete, as the things the novel accomplishes, have become part of the bare basics of what a modern reader would expect from this specific theme, so you're left with a feeling of "Oh, was that everything? That wasn't just the set-up?".

Original Japanese title(s):  岡嶋二人 『クラインの壷』

Some old, same old. Every time we have a new Agatha Christie adaptation, we have the discussion about the connection between the friction between being faithful to the original work, the freedom an adaptation should have and what makes a certain mystery plot or the characters work. As I am a reader who focuses mostly on the core mystery plot, I usually allow an adaptation a fair amount of freedom to mess around with the setting/characters, as long as I believe the core mystery plot is done justice. That is why I thought the Murder on the Orient Express adaptation by Mitani Kouki was quite enjoyable, even though it added a completely new section which retold the whole story from the point of view of the culprit. It actually worked out really well as an inverted mystery story, even if the most die-hard Christie fans might call it a blasphemy to change the work that drastically. And I didn't mind at all it featured a new cast, with a new setting in Japan. The 2017 TV adaptation of And Then There Were None too was daring in how it was set in contemporary times (with the visitors to the island even bringing their tablets and smartphones with them initially), but it also offered an excellent reason to do so in the second half of the story. This adaptation also turned the story into a whodunnit in the second half, as it added a completely original second episode after the events of the book, where the original character Inspector Shoukokuji investigated the case of the ten dead people on the island, with a fair-play set-up with new clues.

Inspector Shoukokuji returned in an okay-ish adaptation of The Mirror Crack'd from Side to Side last year, where he replaced Miss Marple as the detective character (meanwhile the adaptation of 4.50 from Paddington too featured an original Miss Marple replacement). Last week, the same production team brought us a new Agatha Christie adaptation featuring Inspector Shoukokujias the stand-in Miss Marple. Yokoku Satsujin, based on the 1950 novel A Murder Is Announced, is essence quite faithful to the original novel, even if the story is now set in contemporary Japan. One morning, everyone in the village is surprised to find an announcement in the newspaper, which says that evening, a murder will be committed in Little Paddocks, the home of Kuroiwa Reiri, a woman who despite not being a born local is beloved by her fellow villagers and the lodgers that also stay in her house. Everyone assumes it's a joke or perhaps some covert invitation for a murder game, so Reiri's friends all come to her home, expecting some party. At the time detailed in the announcement however, the lights are suddenly turned off. A man with a gun barges in the room, threatening them while he blinds the guests with his flashlight. Several gunshots follow, and to the guests' surprise, they find the intruder lying dead on the floor, with Reiri herself coming off relatively unscatched, with only her ear grazed by a bullet. Inspector Shoukokuji is to find out who the assailant is, and why Reiri's home was the stage for such an incident.

You can probably find more than enough reviews on Christie's original A Murder Is Announced, so I'm not going to spend too much time on that. In essence, the truth behind why the unknown assailant had come to Little Paddocks and how he ended up dead is an idea Christie herself has used often in her books and in the Miss Marple series alone, you'll also find other books that utilize the exact same basic premise as in this book. One can talk about misdirection and other themes, but in general, I find this particular idea a bit too lean to stand on its own, and while Christie has some other extra elements to flesh things out, I can't say A Murder Is Announced is one of my favorite Marples, though I have to admit I never were a big fan of her, especially considering the Poirots are far better, and more fun to read.


But to get back to the matter of adaptations of mystery stories. I think this is actually a story that didn't really work well exactly because it was moved to the contemporary times. Part of the underlying plot works in the original works because it was set soon after World War II, making certain actions at least somewhat feasible. But I say it's neigh impossible to do what the murderer did in the story in contemporary times, especially considering the kinds of technology and other things we have now. It simply doesn't seem plausible in this adaptation set in 2019. Whereas the And Then There Were None adaptation of the same team actually went the depths to make sure it all made sense in the new setting and more importantly, that it actually added some new original element to strengthen the core plot, Yokoku Satsujin suffers from the change in setting, and there are no new elements that actually make the mystery plot better. And no, adding more comedy by giving the always stoic Shoukokuji a childish infatuation with one of the characters really isn't helping the mystery plot.

The screenplay writer had a lot of fun with 'translating' the original English names to their Japanese counterparts though. Letitia Blacklock becomes Kuroiwa Reiri ("Black" corresponding with the "Kuro" part of her name). Letitia's companion Dora Bunner is now Tsuchida Torami, who has the nickname Dora. A Murder Is Announced features some interesting wordplay, and this adaptation does a good job at building on that, even if at times, the plot becomes a bit confusing as everyone is given some nickname like Leily and Dora and Rikka.

Even with the changed setting, Yokoku Satsujin is quite faithful in terms of mystery plot to the original novel. But in this case, these background changes still have negative implications for the mystery plot, and unlike earlier adaptations by this team, there were no new mystery elements introduced to help the plot in different ways or give the familiar plot a new twist that still meshed well with the original ideas. The result is an adaptation that despite good intentions, fails to impress and adds nothing to the original experience.

Original Japanese title(s): 『予告殺人』

Disclosure: I translated Abiko Takemaru's The 8 Mansion Murders. Also: the cover of today's book is amazing (the angle!).

Shinozaki Rin is a high school student who has been practicing the art of kyudo, or Japanese archery, since junior high. She's quite good at the martial art too, but as of late, she feels she might've hit a ceiling in her development cycle. While she trains several times a week in the school's archery club together with the other club members, she has also arranged she can visit the home of the retired teacher Tanahashi for some extra training. Tanahashi, who is an excellent archer herself and who used to be in charge of the school club, has a small private archery dojo built inside her own garden, and while she does not coach Rin anymore, she has allowed Rin to make use of the dojo for an hour or so in the weekend. One day however, Rin arrives at her old teacher's home only to find her path blocked by the police. A man was found dead with an arrow in his chest inside Tanahashi's archery dojo, and it is suspected that Rin's old teacher accidently shot the man when he walked into the dojo from the back door. Rin's knowledge of all the customs of Japanese archery allows her to poke a hole in the police's story and point the finger in the direction of the real murderer, and Rin unwittingly becomes famous a her school as the attractive prodigy archer detective. To Rin however, that's just more noise in her head as she tries to become better at archery in Abiko Takemaru's short story collection Rin no Tsurune ("The Sound of Rin's Bowstring", 2018).

I definitely have a weakness for mystery stories that involve specific fields or professions, and of course utilize those fields to come up with unique mystery plots. Come to think of it, I haven't read many stories that really utilize specific sports in the plot, save for the semi-frequent ones in Detective Conan (which can be both fun and educational). Anyway, I certainly knew very little about kyudo/Japanese archery and I can't think of any mystery story that's really built on that theme, so in any case, Rin no Tsurune wins points with its original subject matter. The specifics of kyudo are explained pretty well in this novel, emphasizing the fact that kyudo isn't 'just about shooting an arrow in the target', but also a highly ceremonial martial art where the spiritual/meditative aspect of the sport is at least as important as being able to aim and shoot.

Rin no Tsuruneis both a mystery story and a YA novel, and perhaps it's best mentioned right away that while the book starts off with a fairly strong mystery vibe, this becomes less and less as you progress in the book. The first few stories feature some "classic" mystery situations that involve archery: the first story is about the murder at Tanahashi's home, but there's also a story for example about an expensive bamboo bow which has disappeared from the school dojo even though everyone was there training and the exit was being watched. The solutions to all these "conventional" mysteries involve specifics to kyudo, but it's a shame Abiko's not always playing fair: some deductions are based on facts about kyudo or the circumstances which aren't disclosed to the reader in advance, but only when Rin explains what has happened. So it's unlikely the reader, even if they had the knowledge about Japanese archery, would be able to completely solve these cases, and most of the time, you'll just go "Alright, that makes sense given the information you have just given me but not before". The way Rin deduces in the first story why it's at least unlikely the victim was shot by accident makes absolute sense for example in a logical way, but you'll never be able to guess it if you don't have knowledge about Japanese archery, and even then it's not really solvable, as the physical clue on which the deduction is based isn't explicitly mentioned until Rin does in her explanation.

After the first three stories or so however, the emphasis of the book definitely shifts towards the more conventional young adult novel, with some minor everyday life mysteries. Rin learns how other people see kyudo, she has her own teenager problems with what to do in the future and how she'll give kyodo in place in her life, and we also have semi-funny parts with Nakata of the school's newspaper club, who wants to make a movie about the "prodigy archer detective" Rin and the beautiful captain of the archery club Yuko (semi-funny, I say, because he's basically just stalking two girls with a camera). At this point however, the "mysteries" presented are hardly anything solvable to the reader however, and are more related to the psychology and motivation of the characters ("Why did they do that?"-type of mysteries). Some might enjoy this better than I did, but I was rather disappointed the "classic" type of mysteries were completely gone in this second half of the book.

As a YA sports novel, Rin no Tsurune can definitely entertain though. We follow Rin in her year as she slowly learns more about the sport she already thought she knew, and we see how all the characters all see kyudo in a different manner and want something else from the sport. We even have a tournament, because every sports story needs that!

Rin no Tsurune can perhaps better be described as a YA sports novel, that also has a few episodes featuring a mystery plot, than a mystery story with a sports element in it. I myself would've preferred the latter to be the case to be completely honest, but I did find the book entertaining as a sport comedy-type of story, especially as I knew next to nothing about kyudo before. But yeah, it's not as focused a mystery novel as you would first hope or expect and I wouldn't recommend this one if you're specifically looking for a puzzle plot mystery about Japanese archery.

Original Japanese title(s): 我孫子武丸『凛の弦音』

With a noticable draught in new Detective Conan releases last year, I resorted to checking out some of the anime episodes which were not based on the Detective Conan comic source material, but original stories created especially for the anime series. I picked out a few episodoes which are often praised as good mystery stories. Stories like Dracula-Sou Satsujin Jiken and Meikyuu he no Iriguchi - Kyodai Shinzou no Ikari were indeed better than the usual anime original episode, but the special Noroi no Kamen wa Tsumetaku Warau and the three-parter Koureikai W Misshitsu Jiken were far more than that and easily made it into my list of favorite mystery fiction of the year, being excellently locked room mysteries and more importantly, master classes in how to properly plot a mystery plot with synergy between the story and the core mechanics of the mystery.

I still occassionally watch an anime original episode of Detective Conan, but often, I just don't feel the urge to write something on a particular episode. Not all anime original episodes are bad, but they are often kinda nondescript and not particularly memorable, and while the twenty minutes it took to watch the episode were perhaps not wasted, I seldom feel the need to also spend extra time writing down my thoughts on them. With an introduction like this you might be temped to think that the episodes 159-160, Kaiki Gojuutou Densetsu (The Legend of the Mysterious Five-Storied Pagoda) form a real masterpiece for me to be writing about it, but that's not exactly the case. This two-parter originally broadcast in September 1999 however, is a good example of a reasonably entertaining anime original, which similar to Meikyuu he no Iriguchi - Kyodai Shinzou no Ikari, has an interesting core mystery plot, even if the execution might be a bit sloppy at times.

Ran has won a sightseeing tour to Izu, Shizuoka Prefecture by solving a puzzle in a magazine (actually, Conan was the one to solve it), so now she, her father Kogorou and Conan are enjoying the nature there. In the mountains near their ODA Hotel stands the 400-year old Genkaiji Temple and the three learn of several legends involving the temple. For example, there's a dried-up well in the back that supposedly dried up suddenly when in the Edo period, a woman with love grief cried her eyes out in front of it for three whole days and nights. Another legend involves the five-storied pagoda on the temple grounds. In the past, an abbot-in-training tried to elope with someone in the village, but he was swept away by an eagle and he was found hanging from his neck from the pagoda. Another abbot sold valuables from the temple, but he too was found hanging from the top floor of the pagoda after several days of disappearance. It is thus thought people who defy the temple are subject to divine punishment, which the current abbot of the temple, Tankai, believes will also occur to Oda Hideaki, head of ODA Tourism. According to the abbot, Oda swindled him out of the property rights of the land of the temple, and now Oda plans to  use the extra ground to build a theme park. Back at the hotel, Kogorou is invited to join Oda Hideaki for dinner, as having the famous Sleeping Detective stay at the hotel means great marketing, but the following day, Kogorou is shocked to learn that Oda was found hanging from a rope from the highest floor of the five-storied pagoda. With quite a few enemies in his life, it is first suspected this is murder, but both Kogorou and the police soon stumble upon a major obstacle. Oda was quite a portly man, and nobody could've carried his body, alive or dead, five stories up without messing up his clothes or leaving any distinctive marks on either the man himself or the pagoda. It thus seems Oda must've hung himself out of his own will, but that too seems unlikely psychologically, so the only explanation left is... divine punishment?


Nah, Conan has a far more rational solution ready, of course. The suicide theory is also soon proven to be unlikely, as the rope hanging from the eaves of the pagoda wasn't long enough to allow Oda to stand on the balustrade to hang himself, but the problem still remains that it's equally impossible to get Oda up to the highest floor of the pagoda alive to hang him there, especially not without leaving any tracks. The theme of this story is likely remind of the story in volume 11, which also featured an impossible crime in a Buddhist temple. I reckon that the core idea of how Oda's body was brought up to the top of the pagoda can be guessed pretty easily, even if some of the details might be a bit trickier (there's an interesting part with that involves the rope with which Oda was hanged, but it leaves less of an impression compared to the main trick). It's an impossible crime trick that works quite well in this particular format, even if it's also a bit silly, but it's also so straightforward, it doesn't really needs two episodes. And that is definitely one of the problems of this story: had this story been featured in the manga, it would've taken three chapters and been turned into a single episode. Now it's spread really thinly across two episodes which feel slower than they should be. The mise-en-place of the clues and suspects is functionable, but it's certainly not a classic like Noroi no Kamen wa Tsumetaku Warau.

And the whodunit aspect of this story... well, it's there. But the clues to their identity are far too obviously inserted in the story and almost feel like an afterthought, as if the whole impossible crime part came first, and then the scriptwriter realized he should probably also add some clues that point to the culprit too, and not just to how the crime was committed.

Kaiki Gojuutou Densetsu is perhaps not one of the best anime original episodes, but the core impossible crime is kinda amusing to watch and compared to other anime originals, this is still a fairly decent one that is strictly focused on its mystery plot. While I think two episodes is far too generous, there are some minor twists regarding the details of the crime that give the viewer still something to think about even if it's likely they'll (partially) guess what went on. If you have already seen the same anime originals I saw last year, I think these two episodes follow in the same spirit, even if they are also clearly not as phenomenal.

Original Japanese titles: 『名探偵コナン』159-160話「怪奇五重塔伝説」

It was only halfway through this novel when I remembered I had seen the movie adaptation already....

Dilettante-detective Philo Vance finds him helping D.A. Markham with a mysterious locked room murder. Archer Coe was by life a notorious collector of Chinese ceramics and, of course, hated by everyone in the house including his brother Brisbane, their niece Hilda and the suspicious Chinese cook, but could any one of them have committed an impossible murder? Archer was found with a bullet in his head and a pistol in his hand inside his bedroom, which was bolted from the inside, but there are several problems with assuming simple suicide, for example because the man was wearing his shoes even though he had already gotten dressed for bed above and it seems he had been writing letters mere moments before supposedly shot himself. The discovery of a wounded Scottish Terrier inside the house (of which the inhabitants all share a dislike for dogs) makes manners even more mysterious. It's Vance's knowledge of Chinese pottery and breeding dogs that allows him to solve S.S. Van Dine's The Kennel Murder Case (1933).

The Philo Vance series is one of the few series I have actually read in order, but I now see I never wrote a review for the fifth novel, The Scarab Murder Case, even though I am sure I read it like one or two years ago. Guess it didn't really leave an impression. That is not to say that I liked Vance's sixth outing that much either....

As the sixth novel in the series, The Kennel Murder Case does everything you'd expect from a Philo Vance novel: District Attorney Markham wants Vance to help with a case handled by Sergeant Keath, narrator Van Dine has absolutely no added value in the story as he's basically never involved with any action but to observe Vance, with Markham and Heath working as better Watsons than Van Dine ever is, Vance spots all kinds of obscure clues based on the encyclopedic knowledge he has of topics like art, and then you have the murderer. The Kennel Murder Case does nothing new, and sadly enough, it also show the worst of Vance.

For half of the deductions Philo Vance makes throughout the novel are either unfair, or based on ridiculous psychological analyses. For example, there are quite a few deductions Vance makes based on stereotypical physical and cultural assumptions like "He looks like a person who doesn't like dogs, which means~" or "the Chinese are always sneaky, so if he's not sneaky, he's trying to be not sneaky on purpose to hide the fact he's being sneaky". Of course, the story eventually will prove Vance to be completely correct, but yeah, for someone who went so far as to make up twenty silly rules that don't really do much to help a detective story being fair in essence, S.S. Van Dine was pretty good at writing not very fair mystery stories. Another good share of the deductions made by Vance are based on facts that are either not mentioned to the reader until Vance suddenly mentions them, or based on facts related to art or other less common fields of interest that may or may not be completely made up by S.S. Van Dine, or at the very least not common knowledge shared by the average reader of mystery fiction, so I can't really feel impressed if Vance triumphantly declares a certain piece of art is a fake based on the thickness of the porcelain or something like that.

As a mystery novel, The Kennel Murder Case has a few good ideas, but by far most of the plot consists of unlikely coincidences strung together all just so we can have that initial locked room murder situation. The Scottish Terrier, which lends its name to the title The Kennel Murder Case for example, is a clue that feels incredibly contrived to "prove" the actions and psychology of the murderer. It is not a clue that is either inserted naturally in the plot, nor one that came forth out the setting thought out for the murder: it is a clue that feels out-of-place and artificial and you could use the exact same clue in any mystery novel you know: it'd feel as out place there as it does here. Like I said, there are a few, minor ideas in the novel that are nice, but they're completely drowned out by all the forceful fitting and glueing S.S. Van Dine did to construct the plot of this novel. It's one unlikely happening after another or even simultaneously. Most of the ideas aren't completely original either by the way. The mechanics behind how the locked room was created for example are of the kind that only have you shrug "Okay, sure, that works." and some of the attempts of the murderer to avert suspicion also seem rather silly and only done so we could have more contrived clues (In what way would hiding the ***** in the **** point the finger to that person???).

So no, The Kennel Murder Case was not a novel I liked at all, as it's basically all the less fun parts of the Philo Vance series concentrated into one novel. It is a novel that tries far too hard to be clever, resulting in a book that feels not only very contrived and artificial, but also simply not fun. It's a mish-mash of so many ideas that don't mesh well together, and the result is a mess of coincidences that exists only to create a case only Vance could solve, and that never feels satisfying nor clever.

Okay, I don't have the book with this cover, but when I searched for images, I found this was the most interesting one in the sense that it still does feature a staircase, but not as the focal point of the design (most of them did feature staircases as the centerpiece, and there was an odd one that didn't feature a stairscase at all).

Sir John Judge was born in the Netherlands as Jan Rechter, but managed to make a name in the UK as a succesful entrepreneur and a philantropist, earning him his title and a new nationality. Recently, he has also shown to have a keen interest in politics, especially in fascism, but that has also garnered him some enemies, who seem to be after his blood: it started with letters that warned him for 'accidents', but there have even been incidents with people shooting at him, and he certainly would've been a goner already if it hadn't been for his childhood friend Tjako. John Judge, his wife Anja and their entourage are now back in the Netherlands for the late summer, but Anja is still very worried for her husband's safety, and asks for the police to keep an eye out on him. The man on the job is Inspector Lund, a young police detective who has made a name for himself after solving the Mondschein Sonate murder. Lund however is not able to prevent the murder on Sir John Judge, which occurs one day under impossible circumstances: the victim was found shot in his study, but the door was locked from the inside (the key in the keyhole) and the windows too were bolted on the inside. Other evidence shows it could not have been a suicide, and other events seem to muddle this locked room murder case like sleepwalkers, sightings of a mysterious man with crooked shoulders and the unaccounted noise of footsteps on the stairs in Willy Corsari's Voetstappen op de trap ("Footsteps on the Stairs", 1937).

Willy Corsari (real name: Wilhelmina Angela Douwes-Schmidt) was a Dutch female author who wrote children's novels and mystery stories. She debuted in 1927 as a writer, and was especially popular in the fifties and several of her mystery novels have also been translated in several European languages. Her detective character Inspector Lund made his debut in 1934's Het Mysterie van de Mondscheinsonate ("The Mystery of the Mondschein Sonata"), which has also been adapted into a succesful Dutch film. Voetstappen op de trap is I believe the second book in the series and is a way, exactly what you'd imagine if I asked you to expect the stereotypical Golden Age mystery novel.

Well-to-do, respected citizens residing in their summer country house, friends staying over for extended periods, everyone has some secret to hide, hidden pasts that come back to haunt those in the present, the police finding out the victim was not as loved first believed: if anything, Willy Corsari knew very well how to write classical Golden Age mystery novel and there's certainly no cultural shock when reading this Dutch mystery novel. If someone had said this had been translated (localized) from English and not an original Dutch novel, I'd definitely been fooled.

Which might be the reason that while Voetstappen op de trap is, on the whole, a decent mystery novel, it's also not really a novel that'll lead that much an impression, as little of the novel feels unique enough. Most of what you'll read will be familiar in one way or another and even the one or two twists thrown in the plot after the midway point won't be as surprising as actually intended, I think. The locked room mystery for example is built around a concept that is very common, and as it is done now, it's far too easy for the readers to guess what has happened simply because it's such a basic idea when it comes to locked room mysteries. There are some other, minor incidents that are involved with the locked room murder, but with half of them relying on coincidences and the other half too obvious in the way they're connected to the solution, my overall impression is that Voetstappen op de trap is a competently constructed mystery, with (most of the time) fair clewing and build-up, but it lacks something that actually sets its apart. Even the attempt at going for the least-likely suspect doesn't really work because they're not really the least likely suspect considering everything that was going on.

ADDENDUM: One day after writing this review, I also read the third Inspector Lund novel, Een expres stopte ("An Express Stopped", 1938). I really don't feel like writing a full review about it, as it's not really that good a novel, so I figured I'll just write a few notes about it here. The story is about the murder on a mister Kampen, who had been stabbed to death in his own attic, at a time nobody else was at home. What makes this a tedious novel is that everyone in the novel only acts as suspiciously as possible to make things difficult for the police and the reader, and everything would've gone much smoother if they wouldn't act so ridiculously overdramatic about small things. Also: Corsari attempts to go for the "least-likely-suspect" again in this novel, but to accomplish in her goals, she comes up with a rather ridiculous murderer. Finally, the title is.... weird? Sure, a train did stop... in a scene of the very first chapter. And that stop had no direct connection with the main plot of the story!  It'd be like calling A Study in Scarlet, Two Men Have Lunch.

I don't know if Voetstappen op de trapis one of those novels that has been translated already, but if it not: I don't think this is necessary per se, because on its own merits it simply has too little unique to offer, but it's a decent enough locked room murder mystery if you happen to come across the book. Een expres stopte on the other hand is one you can skip without any hesitation, as there's far too little redeeming material there.

Huh, I seldom do a double review nowadays, and now I have two of them in a row...

Last year, I reviewed a few volumes of Katou Motohiro's manga Q.E.D. iff Shoumei Shuuryou ("Q.E.D. iff Quod Erat Demonstrandum"), which is a sequel series to the original series Q.E.D. Shoumei Shuuryou. You will remember I have written very little about Q.E.D. Shoumei Shuuryou in general: my first encounter with the series was long before I started this blog and I never stuck with it, so unlike Detective Conan and Kindaichi Shounen, I never did reviews of the latest volume as they were released. I've always experienced the adventures of Touma Sou, a teenage prodigy and MIT-alumnus who has returned to Japan to experience a normal high school life, and the athletic and impulsive Mizuhara Kana as reasonably entertaining mystery stories, but never reaching the heights and scale of the other two, more famous series. Anyway, a while back I came across a free multi-volume bundling the first five volumes of the original Q.E.D. Shoumei Shuuryou, so today I'll be doing a double review of volumes 4 and 5 of the original series (not iff). The first three volumes I already read in a faraway past and I don't really feel like reviewing them now, so I decided to jump right into volumes 4 and 5, both originally released in 1999.

Last year, Touma was awarded the first prize by the international April Fools Club for his grand prank, which is also the reason why he's not really looking forward to 1st, April, 1999: he doesn't feel like coming with something this year, but as the defending champion it's expected of him to make a proper effort. As he's thinking about what to do, Touma runs into an old friend from his time in the States: Baum comes from the small developing country the Kingdom of Clavius, where he made it to the honorable position of Foreign Vice-Minister. The Kingdom of Clavius however is in a crisis: the Japanese government has offered development aid funds for economic projects with a tender, and a Japanese company won the bid to provide the technology for a fish farm. By the time Baum realized this company cheated through inside connections to win the bid, it was already too late: the Kingdom of Clavius was duped into buying far too expensive, and too advanced technology, meaning each time there's a problem with the machinery, the local engineers can't fix it themselves and with slow 'support' from the Japanese home company, the fish farm has been producing a lot of dead fish lately. Meanwhile, the development aid is in essence a loan from the Japanese government, so that has to be paid back too despite the not-running fish farm. Baum has now come to Japan a desperate man, as he needs not only force the company to improve their support, but also make them sign a contract for a new mining project. Baum knows the company will try to dupe him and his country again, but is willing to go far to save the future of his country, even 'cheat' by luring his opponents with a 'magnetic monopole'.

1st, April, 1999 is the type of story you don't really see in Detective Conan and Kindaichi Shounen: the swindle story. Series like Liar Game and Kurosagi are all about stories told from the POV of the swindlers (I really should write something about the live-action Liar Game series one of these days...), where you enjoy the thrills of seeing whether the swindler will succeed in fooling their victim or not. In this story, we mostly follow Kana, who tries to help Baum in his effort in psychologically pressuring the Japanese company in signing the new contract by dangling a magnetic monopole in front of them. As we see the events mostly from her side, the reader has a pretty good idea of what is going on and how everyone is trying to fool each other, so really surprising, this story is not. A series like Liar Game is at its best when you know the protagonist is trying to fool everyone, but you don't have an exact grasp on how that's even possible, but it's less of a mystery here. The way the story juggles the pretty serious government-in-debt-and-corrupt-Japanese-industries theme with the light April Fools Club storyline is good though and the ending is pretty funny spy-action stuff.

Jacob's Ladder starts with an enormous chaos happening in Akihabara: something has caused all the traffic lights to jump to green, resulting in multiple heavy traffic accidents (no deaths, luckily) and all traffic in and out Akihabara being stopped to prevent further accidents. Soon after this incident, Touma is visited by his old friend Loki, who is being tailed by... none other than the CIA. Loki explains to Touma that their friend Eva is now being detained by the CIA, as it was determined that the AI she was developing caused the accidents in Akihabara in Japan. Eva works at MIT as a head researcher on artificial life, and she was running an AI that basically simulated life, following four simple principles (cells have to reproduce, cells will look for best location to reproduce, etc.) At first, her simulation of artificial life had reached an equilibrium state, with three cell tribes living in peace: a hunter tribe that followed orders from a leader cell looking for reproductive grounds, a herder tribe that followed a leader cell who themselves led the way in search of reproductive grounds and a farming tribe that gathered around a leader cell and reproduced in their own area. One day however, the hunter tribe attacked the other tribes, and when they tried to fix the AI program, it vanished from their servers. Touma now has to figure out why the AI suddenly broke the equilibrium state and how it ended up in Japan causing all those accidents in order to save Eva.

Err, yeah, this is a really weird type of mystery story. I could imagine it as a Detective Conan movie plot, but even, so it's really unlike what you'd see in Conan and Kindaichi Shounen. In principle, this is a story that should be based on the scientific field of logic, with Touma trying to figure out how the AI could've done what it had done based on the logic rules Eva had set upon the program as its guiding principles (somewhat like the Three Laws of Robotics in Asimov's novels). However, it doesn't really work in this story. Basically, the solution comes down to super-hacking powers and new elements being introduced that override the basic rules Eva set: so it's basically cheating, because apparently the rules can just be ignored. I've read a few of the sequel series to Q.E.D. Shoumei Shuuryou (subtitled iff), and there I've read much better stories built on the premise of logic as a scientific field, where you combine several true rules or conditions to find a contradiction that allows you to logically deduce what happened). Jacob's Ladder has some interesting imagery going on (the titular Jacob's ladder), but as a mystery story, it hardly succeeds.

The Crooked Melody, the first story in volume 5, opens with the famous cellist Hirai Reiji in his country cabin, having just strangled the president of his sponsor company. The new president had been appointed by the bank to help the financially struggling company, and one of the first things the president wanted to do was stop sponsoring something as silly as music. After killing the president in a rage, Hirai quickly makes some calls, making it seem like the president had changed his mind about killing the sponsor contract and that he had left Hirai's cabin in peace. Just before he has time to hide the body outside however, Touma, Kana and her friends arrive at Hirai's cabin: one of Kana's classmates is a far relative of Hirai, and they had arranged to meet him here. The kids arrive and spend some time there with Hirai. Some days later, the president's body is found in his own house and as Hirai was the last one to have seem him alive, he's questioned, but the kids give him a perfect alibi for the time of the murder. The police suspects Hirai could've killed the president in the cabin, but the kids actually saw everything inside the small cabin during their visit: they had visited the bathroom and they had opened the refrigerator, cupboards and the cabinets, and they hadn't come across a dead body obviously.

Touma of course quickly figures out something's wrong, and the crux of the problem lies where Hirai could've hidden the body during the visit of the kids. Strangely enough, the story seems to ignore the fact Hirai could've simply hidden the body outside the cabin. The reader knows this can't be possible, because we see how Hirai's still dragging the body around in the living room when the kids are almost at the front door, but the police, nor Touma can ever know that, so yeah the body could've been hidden in a trash bin outside, and then all the statements of the kids of not having seen the body inside the cabin would've been completely worthless. Touma first points out some small mistakes Hirai made during the kids' visit, eventually arriving at the hiding spot of the body. It's a simple, but effective hiding spot that could've used a slightly better hint though: by changing the angle in a certain panel, you could at least show that that trick was possible, as not all [certain object used to hide the body] can work in that manner. It's a short, not particularly memorable story, but not bad either.

Afterimage of Light starts at a flea market, where Kana buys an old valuable camera for almost nothing. Touma and Kana find some old negatives with five photographs inside, and after developing them find they include some family pictures, so they trace the camera back to a small mountain village where it was initially sold to a pawn shop. They quickly find that the last photograph was taken at the pawn shop itself (when the camera was tested to see if it worked). They also find an old abandoned storage that was in one of the pictures, but as they explore the inside, they find a dead body was hidden inside the plastered walls. What's even more mysterious is that the body had the one and only key to the storage in their pocket, meaning they were plastered in the wall by someone who could not possibly have escaped the storage themselves, as there are no windows and the one door was locked by that one key (Touma, Kana and their companion broke the lock to get inside initially). They learn the storage used to belong to a girl with supernatural powers who could see through walls, though some thought she was nothing but a fraud. They also trace back the three children (now middle-aged adults) who were on the photographs, and Touma and Kana ask a bit about their family history and what their link is to the storage. Eventually, Touma figures out how the body ended up in the wall of a sealed storage and what they have to do with the photographs they found.

I haven't read much of this series yet, but this type of story too I recognize from the sequel series iff, where Touma comes across a story about some mysterious event in the past (the girl who can see through walls), that is also linked to a current incident (often a family tragedy) and him solving a historical mystery/crime based on old testimonies and evidence (in this case, the photographs). The mystery of how the girl managed to see through walls is based on a real phenomenon, so it can be easy to guess how it was done, though there's some really well-done misdirection there. The mystery of the man who was walled up in a locked storage is more interesting, and too has some really well-done misdirection there as to the exact order of events, but it does rely on a lot of coicidences. A bit more hinting as to how it was done would've made this story perhaps a bit more satisfying, especially as the photograph hint is nearly impossible to figure out (even if you figure out what the hint says, you will never figure out what it actually is).

I doubt that volumes 4 and 5 belong to the highlights of the Q.E.D. Shoumei Shuuryou series: both volumes contain a story that is fairly entertaining, but not particularly memorable, and a story that is slightly less well-plotted. So I feel a bit indifferent about these two volumes in general .I noticed that they recently published special Q.E.D. Shoumei Shuuryou volumes with editors like Arisugawa Alice picking their favorite stories, but I'd really appreciate it if someone here can offer some specific volume or story recommendations for either the original series or iff, as I really don't feel like going through all 50+ volumes, though I do want to read more of this series to see what heights it can reach.

Original Japanese title(s): 加藤元浩 『Q.E.D. -照明終了-』第4, 5巻

Due to frequent shuffling with my posting schedule, this review got delayed a lot. I can't even remember how often it got bumped down, but also up the list. In fact, at one time, this review was supposed to be posted soon after another Ashibe review, early in the year, but shuffling around means this review is posted first, and we're several months later than first planned.

High school student Remi is one day attacked on her way back from school, with her sudden assailant leaving a scar on her face with a razor blade. This attack alone left quite the impression on the girl, but it wasn't the only event to befall her family: her uncle had a motorcycle accident, and her little cousin was kidnapped and had been missing for a few days already. Curious as all these happenings may be, Remi didn't think too much of them together, until she meets a mysterious figure at a costume party, who tells her the Murder Comedy King is behind all these incidents, and that while Remi's family already had their turn, the figure warns Remi that more will follow, and those targets won't get off with just a scratch on their face. Scared by this warning, Remi decides to seek help from the attorney Morie Shunsaku, who has made a name as an amateur detective. That the fiend's warning was more than just words, is soon proven to be true when horrible murders occur one after another, like a man being murdered by having his spine cracked on the dial of a clock tower, or a woman who is drowned alive in her own cellar. Meanwhile, it seems the Murder Comedy King has more than one enemy on his trail, as the great detective Hanagatami Joutarou and his boy assistant Ariake Masahiko too seems on the case, and that's actually really odd, as Hanagatami is supposed to be a fictional detective! Can Morie and Hanagatami stop the monstrous serial killer Murder Comedy King in Ashibe Taku's Kaijin tai Meitantei ("The Fiend versus The Great Detectives", 2000)?

Many authors have different characters for different kind of stories, but Ashibe is someone who has somehow managed to use his series detective Morie Shunsaku in an incredibly diverse story selection. Morie Shunsaku is an attorney, so you'd expect a courtroom drama, right? Sure, Saibanin Houtei is even almost social school, as it was written to coincide with the introduction of the Lay Judge System in Japan. But then you also have the stories where Morie's like those old master detectives solving crimes in creepy mansions with weird gimmicks like hidden passages, like in Wadokei no Yakata no Satsujin. Historical and bibliophilic mysteries? Yep, got that one too. And what about a science-fiction detective story about parallel dimensions? Morie has covered that one too.... Every other Morie Shunsaku novel I read feels completely different from the previous one, as Ashibe will use him for whatever story he wants to write, and yep, Kaijin tai Meitantei adds another flavor.

Fiends, great detectives, you might've guessed already, but Kaijin tai Meitantei is a homage to the classic pulp thrillers by Edogawa Rampo from the 30s-40s, where Rampo's great detective Akechi Kogorou battles criminal masterminds with silly names like the Magician, the Golden Mask, the Dwarf, the Black Lizard, and of course the Fiend with Twenty Faces. While Kaijin tai Meitantei is set in contemporary times (the 2000s), the story reads as if we're still in the 1930s Japan with criminals dressing up as creepy figures to scare their targets and in the 1930s, it's also a lot easier to just kidnap people from the street without anyone ever noticing just by spraying sleeping gas and carrying your victim away with you or something like that (seriously: I never think about it much, but I can accept kidnappings much easier from 1930 pulp thrillers than stories set in modern days, because it's actually quite difficult to carry a body away from somewhere). The fanciful manners in which each of the targets of the Murder Comedy King is killed off are also clearly inspired by Rampo's work. Voyeurism is also a big theme in Rampo's work, as is exposition, and the gruesome murders in this novel could've fitted well in Rampo's novels, as yes, a man being tied to both the hour and minute hand of a clock tower so he'll get bent in middle is really icky, as is the murder where a girl is hanged from a balloon. Like in Rampo's work, the narration will often to the point of view of the victim here, leading to some real horror moments. Ashibe is having a lot of fun with these Rampo homages, and the book is brimming with references. In fact, each of the chapter titles in this novel is also a reference on its own to another chapter titles from Rampo's oeuvre and just figuring out where each title came from is a fun game for Rampo fans. Still, it's weird seeing Morie involved with a case like this, because the story is intentionally written to invoke the atmosphere of Rampo's novels, which is firmly set in 1920s-1940s modernizing Japan, while you know it's actually set in the 2000s.
 
As a mystery novel however, Kaijin tai Meitantei can not avoid falling in the same pitfall a lot of Rampo's novels also experience, though that might not have been Ashibe's goal in the first place. Anyway, there's a lot of gruesome deaths and scenes with the Murder Comedy King challenging his victims and the detectives, but there's not much to solve for the reader or Morie. The murders just happen and there's nothing particular to solve about them save for catching the killer. There's a kind of reveal about the Murder Comedy King at the end, but that's telegraphed rather obviously, but I'm not sure whether I should take it as a genuine reveal, or a "haha, Rampo's novels weren't that surprising in reality, so I'm going with a not-so-shocking reveal myself too" type of reveal. Sure, it feels like a Rampo novel with an ending like this, but I would've appreciated something that would've gone beyond that too. Ashibe also plays with meta-fiction in this novel, which is a theme he often utilises. Throughout the novel, you also learn that the great detective Hanagatami Joutarou is also working on the case, but he's a fictional detective by "Ashibe Taku," a personal friend of Morie, so how can a fictional figure also be working on a real case? There are some more segments that seem to blur the world of "reality" and "fiction" (within the setting of the story). There's an in-universe explanation for all of this, but it's more intended as a playful gesture to confuse the reader by Ashibe (the actual author).

Long story short, Kaijin tai Meitantei is exactly like one of those Rampo pulp thrillers, both in atmosphere and in execution. It's a very faithful homage to Rampo's work and his world, and as a fan of Rampo, I definitely had fun seeing these Rampo-esque situations. That said, I would never recommend Kaijin tai Meitantei as a first read in the Morie Shunsaku series, as its one purpose is just to revel in Rampo love. It's not really a Morie novel, and I also doubt readers can really appreciate the sheer silliness of this work without any understanding of Rampo's pulps.

Original Japanese title(s): 芦辺拓『怪人対名探偵』

Funny how Q.E.D.Shoumei Shuuryou never got an anime adaptation actually, while it did have a live-action adaptation.

When I asked for recommendations for Katou Motohiro's Q.E.D. Shoumei Shuuryou series earlier, I was pointed to a storyline that starts in volume 10. The mysteries the young teenage prodigy Touma Sou and his impulsive athletic friend Mizuhara Kana usually encounter in Q.E.D. Shoumei Shuuryou only span one single chapter, but In The Hands of the Witch was the first time a story spanned two chapters, and it even had a seperate story that acted as its conclusion in volume 12. I was quite interested to see what Katou could with the series when using a different format for his stories for a change so I decided to read these two volumes. Volume 10 (2001) opens at Kana's home, where Kana is entertaining Touma Yuu.Yuu had traveled all the way from the United States (where she lives) to visit her big brother only to learn that he's not at home, so she decided to hang out with Kana for the moment as she knows nobody else in the vicinity. Yuu has brought a postcard that was addressed to Sou in the United States. The postcard is not signed, and shows three children dressed for Halloween, with the message "See you again in the next winter." The children stand in front of what appears to the Witch House in Salem, and Yuu explains to Kana about the Witch Trials in Salem and how the town's relatively close to MIT in Cambridge, where her brother studied some years ago. She then remembers a case her brother was involved with five years ago that had to do with "witch trials", when a young Touma Sou had just started his studies at MIT at the tender age of 10.

Touma had a part-time job inputting data for the district attorney's office back then, which is where he also met Annie Crainer, a young prodigy district attorney and daughter of Daniel Crainer, a prominent figure in the legal world. The first case of the rising star of the Massachusetts District Attorney's Office was the murder on Marcus Osborne. Marcus was a wealthy man who in secret, was also the mastermind behind the arms smuggling in the region, even if the police couldn't find proof of his involvement. One night, cops on their beat heard a loud gunshot near the Osborne house and inside they found the man with a bullet hole right through his right eye. The only other person in the house was his young wife Sarah. The Osborne house stands at the end of a cliff, and the road was immediately closed, and the woods searched, but nobody was found, meaning that the only two persons present on the cliff at the time of the murder were the victim, and his wife Sarah. The fact that Sarah's twenty-two years younger than her husband and that she joined a shady sect called the Path to Arcadia a year earlier to which she donated a lot, raises suspicion with Annie, who soon decides to prosecute Sarah for the murder on her husband for financial gain. As the trial continues however, the defense attorney manages to take down each and every argument Annie can bring forward. Whats more, Annie becomes the target of public outcry, as she is accused of conducting a witch trial, persecuting Sarah only because she married an older husband and trying to get her convicted on flimsy evidence. Meanwhile Touma too is having doubts about himself, as he learns that his advice isn't always appreciated by the people around him. When Annie and Touma have a talk however, the two prodigies manage to give each other some well-considered advice, and Touma even manages to solve Annie's murder with one simple question that reaches the whole crux of the problem.

In The Hands of the Witch explores Touma Sou's past in a way I had not seen in this series yet, and the result is quite captivating. The core mystery plot is not incredibly impressive to be honest, but it works great as a vehicle to tell a genuine tale about Touma and Annie, resulting in definitely the most enthralling Q.E.D. Shoumei Shuuryou story I've read until now. The story unveils itself to be a courtroom drama, following Annie as she tries to convince the jury that the defendant is guilty, while the sly defense attorney does a great job at turning each of Annie's witnesses and exhibits around in the defense's favor. I do like how Touma succeeds in pointing out the truth to Annie by asking her one simple question, suddenly connecting all kinds of small questions and happenings, and changing all the various points into one single line leading to murder. That said, there are still little things about this murder plan that seem rather difficult to swallow, as the whole plan needed either a lot of coincidence and luck, or uncanny planning powers that were not explained, to work out the way it did. The murderer would've needed to obtain a certain object for example, that was 1) not even sure to come into existence in that form and 2) it was unlikely they could actually retrieve the object. Also, the plan needed the presence of a certain person, bringing along a certain object, which again was something they couldn't count on 100%. So I really how Touma manages to point out this plan, but the plan itself is less impressive.

In The Hands of the Witch ends in a tragic way, which convinces Kana to hide the postcard from Touma, as she doesn't want to bring up bad memories again. Volume 12 (2002) therefore opens with In The Outskirts of the Universe, a 'normal' story where a witness drawing of an 'actual' alien is stolen from a storage of an 'authority on alien lifeforms', with Kana ending up as the main suspect, even if it seems impossible for anyone in general to have taken the picture from the suitcase it was kept in, as somebody was near the suitcase all the time. It's a minor story, and it's pretty easy to identify when the picture must've been stolen (which immediately points to the real thief and also in the direction of how it must've been done). Nothing remarkable here but the story ends on a different note as Touma happens to come across the "See you again in the next winter" postcard in Kana's room in the very last pages, prompting him to go to the United States to find out who sent him this postcard.

The Rainbow Mirror forms the concluding chapter of the Witch Trial storyline and opens with the shocking murder on an prison inmate, who was five years ago jailed due to the events of In The Hands of the Witch. The poor woman's drink had been poisoned while she was entertaining a guest visitor, and that visitor is none other than Touma himself. Naturally, Touma is taken into custody on suspicion of murder, and the scene of the boy being ushered into a police car outside the prison are broadcast all over the world, including Japan. Kana is contacted promptly by Yuu and Touma's friend Loki, and Kana decides to fly to the United States to find Touma. The three arrive too late in Massachusetts however, as Touma was already released by the police, as video security footage in the prison showed someone else tampered with the drinks machine in the visiting area of the prison. They learn Touma has gone off to visit the other related parties to Sarah Osborne's case and they chase after him, but to their shock they learn more incidents happen to these people after Touma's visits, like Sarah's defense attorney getting into a traffic accident because his car brakes had been tampered with. Fearing the bad outcome of the Osborne case might've weighed on Touma's mind more heavily than they could've ever imagined, his friends try to trace him, but find they are too late each and every time. But is it really Touma who's committing a series of murders, or is some other force at play?

Well, of course it's somebody else. The Rainbow Mirror concludes this arc in the manga, but taken as a mystery story on its own, it's very weak. There is little mystery as to the how of the deaths and other incidents that occur over the course of the story, while the whodunnit aspect is also rather undeveloped. The precise events that led to the motive are very hard to swallow for example (especially considering the way In The Hands of the Witch ended) and with a character like Touma, there' not even a single second where you'll be doubting whether he really did commit the murders. So the story is mostly just about Yuu, Loki and Kana chasing after Touma and visiting all the people related to the Sarah Osborne case again. It works as a book-end to the storyline, giving you a glimpse at the aftermath of the Sarah Osborne case and the five years that have passed since, but in an attempt to bring an emotional gripping story, Katou goes way too far, pulling cards out of nowhere that just don't seem very convincing.

It was fun reading Q.E.D. Shoumei Shuuryou stories for a change that didn't feel so limited in reach. The core mystery plot of In The Hands of the Witch might not've been super-complex (in fact In The Outskirts of the Universe is far more complex I'd say), but it works well as a device to also tell a story about both Touma and Annie in a courtroom drama setting. The Rainbow Mirror is more troublesome. I definitely recommend reading it, as it's definitely part of In The Hands of the Witch's story, but some of the events that occur there are a bit ridiculous, at least in the world of Q.E.D. Shoumei Shuuryou (had this been Detective Conan, I would've been more willing to swallow the premise).
 
Original Japanese title(s): 加藤元浩 『Q.E.D. -証明終了-』第10, 12巻

I don't have a particular preference for Dragon Quest or Final Fantasy, but I have played a lot more Dragon Quests than Final Fantasies. The only Final Fantasy I have played is VII on the original PSX (and that was actually quite recently, like two or three years ago). But yeah, in my mind, the "traditional console RPG" will always be Dragon Quest, not Final Fantasy.

Like always, college student Toshiaki was walking his dog in the morning, but when they arrived in the local park, master and pet came across an anomaly in their routine. The discovery Toshiaki made in the bushes of the park shocked him greatly in two ways. First of all, anyone would be traumatized by the sight of a murdered girl only five or six years old, left behind the park. But what perhaps disturbed Toshiaki even more was the note pinned to the little girl's back, which held the message: "Call upon the Witch of Selgrave." To most people, this message would be nonsense, but not to Toshiaki and the rest of his old classmates. Nine years ago, when he was still a student of the Tsumabegaoka Elementary School, one of his classmates disappeared. Nobody knew what had hapened to Hosoya Tomoki, whether he had been kidnapped or had run away from home on his own, or even if he were alive or dead. At the time, a note was found in his room which too said "Call upon the Witch of Selgrave." The line came from the RPG Dark Redemption, a popular videogame at the time where one of the final quests involves the hero being told to visit the Witch of Selgrave, who in the game world, is known to kidnap children. While at first the note was thought to be related to Tomiki's disappearance, it was eventually assumed it was just a memo written while Tomiki was playing the game, as a reminder as how to proceed. But now nine years later, this message has resurfaced again, but why? The answer lies in Takase Mie's horror mystery novel Selgrave no Majo ("The Witch of Selgrave", 2009).

A few years ago, I reviewed Gyakuten Idol and Gyakuten Kuukou, which were both original children's mystery novels featuring the characters of the excellent mystery videogame series Gyakuten Saiban/Ace Attorney. The books, published in a children's label, were obviously written for a relatively young audience, but they were also really good mystery novels. They may have been a tad simple, but the plotting and clewing were done by someone who knew exactly what they were doing and I have read enough mystery novels aimed at "adults" that aren't even remotely as neatly plotted as these two novels. I was thus very curious to read more mystery novels by the author. The author, Takase Mie, has a long resume featuring both videogame novelizations and original novels based on existing popular videogame franchises, including Kirby, Persona, Growlanser, Style Savvy and Fire Emblem. The list of her own, original novels was quite a bit shorter though, and most of them were fantasy or horror novels. Selgrave no Majo however caught my attention as it was billed a horror mystery novel, rather than pure horror, and the videogame theme of course also interested me.

Still, most of the time, you'll be reading Selgrave no Majo as a horror novel, and a fairly entertaining one too. The narrative jumps between various characters, from Toshiaki and some other of his classmates from Tsumabegaoka Elementary School, to characters like Tomiki's mother and Tomiki's aunt Reiko and a few others too. Each of these vignettes will give you insight in the thoughts of the respective characters, as they learn about the new murders of the young girls (yes, more follow) and unveil their ties to the disappeared Tomiki and several of them will also try to figure out who the murderer is and how all these events tie back to "Call upon the Witch of Selgrave." The way the focus of suspicion keeps shifting is quite exciting, and the horror lies not only in the horrible murders of the girls, but especially in the hidden, sad past of all these victims(it's not monster horror, this is 'god why are humans such monsters' horror). Don't expect to be doing much detecting yourself though, as a lot of information is only conveyed to the reader as the characters make their own guesses (giving the reader little room to come up with ideas themselves), and most of the time, it's more like instinct/guesses ("He looks so suspicious!") than real deductions, but of course, that's how things go when you have a serial murderer prowling around a small, residential area, with all the people living there pointing fingers at each other behind their back.

Dark Redemption, the game referred to in the novel is of course not a real videogame, but think of traditional fantasy RPGs with heroes, witches, dragons like Dragon Quest or Final Fantasy and you're close. I was surprised how well Takase had fleshed out the story of Dark Redemption though. Of course, Dark Redemption plays a big role in the story, and the line "Call upon the Witch of Selgrave" left on all the victims is a deliciously alluring line, but if there was a real Dark Redemption, I'd really want to play it for the story.

I was a bit disappointed Selgrave no Majo wasn't a pure puzzle plot mystery like the Ace Attorney novels by Takase I read, but that said, eventually, the novel does show why it's touted a horror mystery novel, and not just a horror novel. Again, most of the revelations will unfold 'automatically', with little space for the reader to really figure things out for themselves, but all the way at the end, there's a segment that's completely fairly clewed, and quite neatly so too. The true fate of Tomoki can be deduced on your own, and while it's no locked room/alibi trick/grand whodunnit or any classic mystery set-up, Selgrave no Majodoes show how Takase knows how to properly spread hints and clues across a narrative and build up to her conclusion.

Selgrave no Majo is most of the time more a horror novel than a mystery novel, and somewhat of a departure of what I normally review on the blog, but I quite enjoyed it in the end. It's really different from the other novels by Takase I have read, but that's not a bad thing. The novel has a rather dark mood, but Takase makes good use of it to create a novel that addresses several themes that are quite contemporary and grounded in real Japanese society, and while at times the novel does sound a bit stereotypical in regards to its themes, I think it ultimately works as horror novel that also has a fairly-clewed mystery element to it. I think people who like Higashino Keigo will like this novel too considering its human angle.

Original Japanese title(s):『セルグレイブの魔女』

And another Great Merlini review this year.

It didn't take much to convince overworked promotion writer Ross Harte to forget about the newest rewrite for a moment to join retired-magician-turned-amateur-detective The Great Merlini in a new adventure. The Great Merlini is doing a new show on haunted houses, and one of the top locations eyed by Merlini is a haunted house located on Skelton Island in New York's East River. Skelton Island is owned by wealthy Linda Skelton, who lives on the island with her two half-brothers and other guests, including the psychic Madame Rappourt. Colonel Watrous was a true believer of Madame Rappourt's spiritual powers in the past, but as of late, doubts have crawled into his mind, and he wants Merlini to see if he can debunk her. He secretly invites Merlini to Skelton Island, so he can witness one of Rappourt's seances, but while they are sneaking on the island, Merlini, Watrous and Harte notice that something's fishy in the supposed haunted house. Inside, they hear suspicious footprints on the floor above and chasing after them, they find the body of Linda Skelton inside a room, who died of poison. While at first sight, this might look like suicide, the fact that Linda suffered from severe agorophobia, would've made it impossible for her to leave the comforts of her own house to come here. While they are checking the scene, the three discover more curious facts: footprints walking on the ceiling leading to the one open window, and a fire is started on the ground floor of the building. When the people on the island are informed of Linda's death, they also find that the phone line's been cut and that all the boats have been let loose, stranding the people on the island. It takes the magician's brain of Merlini to see the connection between all these events in Clayton Rawson's The Footprints on the Ceiling (1939).

The Footprints on the Ceiling is the second novel in Rawson's The Great Merlini series (followed byThe Headless Lady, which I reviewed a couple months ago). I haven't read the first novel (Death from a Top Hat), though I vaguely remember having seen the film once. Anyway, I am not completely sure, but I believe both Madame Rappourt and Colonel Watrous appeared in that first novel, with Watrous (a believer in the occult) now having doubts about Rappourt's true powers. Anyway, reading these novels out of order doesn't really hurt the experience, in case you were wondering.

What does hurt the experience is that The Footprints on the Ceiling is an incredibly packed mystery novel, with far too many subplots and ideas for its own good. The result is a chaotic, meandering bunch of ideas, that lacks focus and meaningful plotting. Last year, I reviewed a few mystery stories that in my eyes, were pinnacles in mystery plotting in terms of synergy: the novel Kubinashi no Gotoki Tataru Mono, but also the Detective Conan episode Koureikai W Misshitsu Jiken were both packed stories, with lots of sub-plots and events, but what made these stories so memorable, was the fact there was synergy going between all these events. Nothing there happened on its own: each story element was there to strengthen and support other elements in multi-lateral directions, with for example murder methods, murder scenes, motives and sub-plots all interconnected in meaningful ways, where it was impossible to remove one element without affecting the fundamentals of the whole mystery plot. The Footprints on the Ceilingis an excellent example of what happens when you have a mystery plot that lacks such synergy, where elements are thrown in haphazardly without true consideration of how and why it all ties together and most importantly: whether the inclusion of such elements really improve the overall plot.

When you're reading The Footprints on the Ceiling, you are presented with, amongst others, 1) a backstory of a haunted house on Skelton Island; 2) a semi-locked room where Merlini, Harte and Watrous hear footprints in a room, but don't find the person behind them; 3) the mystery of why Linda Skelton is dead, in a room where she wouldn't have gone; 4) the mystery of the footprints on the ceiling; 5) the question of whether Madame Rappourt is a genuine psychic; 6) the mystery of who cut the phone line; 7) the mystery of who set the boats drifting; 8) the mystery of an unknown, naked man being found in a New York hotel who died of the bends (decompression sickness); 9) the mystery of missing half-brother Floyd; 10) the mystery of who's been dusting for fingerprints besides the police; 11) the search for a lost pirate treasure; and so much more. And the things: a lot of the elements are just there to make this a longer novel. Everyone has something to hide, with lots of subplots going on, but they usually have no direct connection with the main mystery. They are just there to act as a semi-red herring, to focus the spotlight on something else for a moment only to tell you 'sure, this all happened but it had nothing to do with the murder!' and then the spotlight moves again to someone else. One could say this is misdirection, but throwing a mountain of random things to obscure the underlying picture is the crudest manner to do misdirection and hardly a skill.

There are interesting ideas going in The Footprints on the Ceiling, mind you, but the execution isn't always optimal. Inspector Gavigan also works on a case of a naked body being found in a hotel room who died of the bends (decompression sickness): this is actually a pretty interesting situation on its own, but this problem is hardly given enough page-time to really settle, and this part is solved far too fast, and is soon forgotten among the plethora of other things going on in this novel. The main motive for the murder is also fairly interesting, but again, it's only "well-hidden" because everything and the kitchen sink is thrown in this story and it's more chore to sift through all the random ideas and happenings than actual fun.

After reading The Footprints on the Ceiling, I read through a few reviews which were far more positive about this book than I am, so your mileage may very well vary on this, but I thought this book a good example of the easy way out of writing a lengthy mystery story: by stuffing it with sub-plots that don't really connect in a meaningful way to the core mystery plot, by adding elements that are only there so the author can say "Haha, made you look." The book is not devoid of good ideas: but there is no synergy going on between these ideas at all, resulting in what can only be described as a random collection of ideas that never come together.

The Fate series is a long-running multimedia franchise, which started with the fantasy game Fate/stay night in 2004. Since then, it has seen numerous installments in various forms of media, from games, to anime, manga and novels. Some of these installments are direct sequels/prequels in the same chronology, some involve alternate universes/retellings, but in general, the series revolves around a series of events called the Holy Grail Wars, with persons called Masters fighting each other with the help of Servants, spirits/familiars based on figures from history, mythology and fiction from all across the world like King Arthur, Ramses II and Sherlock Holmes. This is in fact basically all I know about the Fate series: while I naturally knew of its existence (it's really popular), I had never consumed any part of the franchise yet. At least, not until this week.

The most popular incarnation of the Fate series these last few years has been the smartphone game Fate/Grand Order, which started in 2015 and ranks amongst the most popular mobile games in the world: in 2017 it became the sixth highest-grossing mobile game, leaving titles like Pokémon Go and Candy Crush Saga behind. I don't play the game myself, but my interest was piqued when in May 2018, a special limited quest event started, with the title Murder at the KOGETSUKAN. What first caught my eye was that the event was penned by Van Madoy, who since a few years has been chiseling out a niche for himself by writing original mystery novels for existing game franchises (like Gyakuten Saiban/Ace Attorney). While gameplay of Fate/Grand Order generally revolves around battles (by selecting a team of Servants) coupled with dialogue events, this event was presented as a pure, fair-play mystery story, based solely on the dialogues between the various characters. Players were also challenged to actively participate with the mystery solving: the event took over a week (daily updates), and polls were held on the official website: players were rewarded with in-game currency if the correct answers managed to pull in the most number of votes.

As I don't play the game, it ended with me just thinking 'Oh boy, this sounded neat', but in May 2019 a second FGO Mystery event commenced within Fate/Grand Order and novelizations by Madoy himself of both the first and second event were published right after the conclusion of the second event. The first novel (based on 2018's event) has the insanely long title FGO Mystery - Hirugaeru Kogetsukan no Kokkai - Kogetsukan Satsujin Jiken ("FGO Mystery - The Confession of the Trembling Koketsukan - The Kogetsukan Murder Case", 2019), but it also carries the alternative, shorter English title of The Kogetsukan Murders. The story starts with a strange experience happening to Fate/Grand Order protagonist Fujimaru Ritsuka, as he loses consciousness one night, only to find himself waking up in a completely different body! He learns that he is now inhabiting the body of "Rikka" a friend of Juliet Violet, oldest daughter of the Violet clan. The Violet and Goldie clans are two gangster families in the United States with a long history of rivalry, but their wars have left them in a weakened state and easy targets for foreign gangs. Family heads Aaron Goldie and Adamska Violet both realize a fusion of both clans is their only chance on survival, and in order to silence the voices of protests in their respective gangs, they decide to have their eldest children marry to seal the deal. The Violet and Goldie families are now gathered in the mansion Kogetsukan on a remote island to confirm the engagement of Morris Goldie and Juliet Violet.

"Rikka" had been invited to come along as Juliet's friend, but even to Ritsuka inhabiting the body of Rikka, it's clear that Morris Goldie is not the kind of person you'd want a good friend to marry and the arranged, political marriage will absolutely ruin Juliet's life. Meanwhile Juliet seems to have accepted her fate, as she doesn't want her younger twin sister to become the 'sacrifice' in her stead.  It seems however there is another person who wants to prevent the engagement, as threatening letters were sent that warned the clans to stop the engagement, which is the reason the deal is being discussed on a remote island under the protection of three agents of the Marble Trading Company, an organization of highly respected "fixers" acting as both witnesses to the engagement and bodyguards. On the first day, a shady detective calling himself Sheringham makes his way to the island, claiming he knows of the threatening letters and that he can solve the case, but that very night, that same Sheringham is killed. It seems a murderer is roaming Kogetsukan, and that they first got rid of the nosy detective. But who will follow, and can Rikka/Ritsuka make it out alive from the island?


When I bought the novel, my main worry was of course whether I'd enjoy the story without knowing anything about Fate/Grand Order. I was fairly confident that Madoy could deliver on an entertaining mystery story, but how much would it rely on me knowing the Fate series. The first few pages were therefore slightly worrying, as they were clearly meant for someone who somewhat knows the characters. As a defense mechanism in Ritsuka's brain for suddenly inhabiting a different body, every person he meets in the Kogetsukan takes on the form of a Servant he knows within his brain. In reality, this is of course because the game uses existing character art to portray "new" characters (the people Goldie/Violet/Marble Trade Company). But an explanation that Juliet takes on the form of the Gorgon sister Stheno in Ritsuka's mind doesn't tell me much of course, as I don't know how Stheno looks like in Fate/Grand Order. Some others were more easy to imagine though. The Violet family doctor is called Dr. Hawthorne for example, who funnily enough takes on the form of the Servant Professor James Moriarty. Meanwhile, the shady detective Sheringham is definitely the spitting image of the Servant Sherlock Holmes. What's also funny is that Ritsuka occasionally returns to his own body, and there he discusses the case with both Sherlock Holmes and Professor Moriarty, who actually work together to figure things out.

Once you get past the character introductions of "X has the appearence of Y" though, I'd say the novel is fairly accessible even if you don't know Fate/Grand Order, and it's a pretty decent mystery novel on its own too. One can definitely tell it's written by Madoy, who was a member of the Kyoto University Mystery Club when in college, as the core is a classic guess-the-criminal set-up, with a proper Challenge to the Reader. While you can arrive at the identity of the murderer by simply guessing the motive in this particular story (as it's also aimed at people who usually don't read detective stories), the 'correct' way of reading this story is of course by arriving at the murderer by the process of elimination: identify what characteristics the murderer must comply too (for example, being at a certain place at a certain time, or being left-handed or something like that), and crossing off the people who don't fit that characteristic. To be honest, the elimination part of the story is on its own somewhat straightforward and not very exciting, as it mostly revolves around one single characteristic, coupled with an interpretation of a dying message which is basically 'given' to the reader. But Madoy wouldn't be Madoy if he didn't have some other tricks up his sleeve though: one point of misdirection is particularly well thought out. The trick makes excellent use of the presentation of the story and while people who do know Fate/Grand Order might be more inclined to fall for it, it still (kinda) works for non FGO-players, I think. These traps make the route to the identity of the murderer a far more entertaining trip and are nicely done. At least, in general. I do think some of the hints stood out a bit too much: some parts of the story seemed so blatantly weirdly worded at first, I actually thought it was an editing mistake in the text, rather than a hidden clue. I wonder whether Madoy intentionally made those parts stand out a bit, because the main audience were Fate/Grand Order players, and not mystery readers in general, as I have the feeling those parts could've been hidden in more subtle ways, without losing their functions as proper clues.

Depending on how much mystery fiction you read, bits and pieces of The Kogetsukan Murders will certainly feel somewhat familiar, like the motive or some of the 'traps' in the elimination process, but the manner in which these familiar elements are combined are good, and show how how an author, even with the same bricks, can still make an original building. Overall, I think Van Madoy did a good job at presenting a very classic mystery story to an audience (Fate/Grand Order player) that doesn't necessarily consists out of readers of mystery fiction, while still offering a story that is fairly complex in terms plotting.

Taken completely on its own, FGO Mystery - Hirugaeru Kogetsukan no Kokkai - Kogetsukan Satsujin Jiken is a decent mystery novel and can be enjoyed too even if you don't know Fate/Grand Order, but it definitely earns some bonus points if you are familiar with the source material and some elements of the mystery plot too work better with some knowledge. And while this was originally written to be experienced in the game, I'd say the novelizations works quite well too. While designed for a more general audience, this novel will also please regular puzzle plot readers and it's also just funny to see the Servants Sherlock Holmes and Professor Moriarty working together to solve the murders at the Kogetsukan. I have the novelization of the second event too, and will probably review that one soon too.

Original Japanese title(s): Type-Moon (原), 円居挽 『FGOミステリー 翻る虚月館の告解 虚月館殺人事件』