Spider-Man, Spider-Man
Does whatever a spider can
Spins a web, any size
Catches thieves, just like flies
Spider-Man (theme song)
A new
translation appears!
Kouga Saburou (1893-1945, real name Haruta Yoshitame) was an early detective writer and playwright. He and
Edogawa Rampo had already met before either of them had debuted as writers, with Kouga's own debut in 1923 with
Shinjutou no Himitsu ("
The Secret of the Pearl Tower") just four months after Rampo's debut with
Nisen Douka. Like Rampo, Kouga Saburou used an alias, which he derived from
local Suwa legends. While internationally not as known as Rampo, Kouga Saburou is definitely an important name in Japanese detective fiction history. He is also the person to have coined the terms
honkaku (orthodox, authentic) and
henkaku (inorthodox , unaunthentic) to describe detective fiction:
honkaku refers to a puzzle plot story (what some might call a golden age mystery), while
henkaku refers to broadly the rest, but especially those mystery stories largely dressed in grotesque and erotic elements (i.e. a lot of
Rampo's and
Yokomizo's work). The terms are still widely used today and nowadays we even have
shin honkaku (new orthodox/authentic), referring to a set of writers who revived the old puzzle plot in this time and age, with touches of deconstruction and reconstruction.
Kumo ("
The Spider") is a short story originally published in 1930 and... err.. features spiders. There was no grand plan behind my selection of this story. I had never read anything by Kouga before, but I remembered I had heard this story mentioned as a good story, so I went with my usually rather shaky memory. Having read it though, I do find it an amusing story considering when it was published. I could mention some contemporary writers that might have been influenced by this story, but that might give too much away.
Anyway, enjoy!
蜘蛛
著者:甲賀三郎
The Spider
Author: Kōga Saburō
The bizarre laboratory of professor Tsujikawa stood on top of a pillar towering at least nine meters high, as if competing with the surrounding keyaki trees which had lost their leaves. The laboratory was shaped like a cylinder about 4.5 meters wide and 2.7 meters high. It had a round ceiling and the windows, all of the same size, were lined up at regular intervals. The building had been unprotected from the forces of wind and rain for a whole year and the chalk white walls had faded to a grey color at some places and at first sight, the laboratory resembled a misshapen lighthouse, or a time-worn fire watchtower. I gazed up at the building with awe.
The world was shocked when professor Tsujikawa, the leading authority on physical chemistry gave up his seat as a university professor and started research on a completely different topic: spiders. People thought the man had become mad when they heard the professor had built a laboratory shaped like a tube nine meters above ground somewhere in the outskirts of Tokyo. I too was one of those surprised people who did not comprehend the professor’s intentions.
But the professor was completely indifferent to the voices of critique and ridicule and devoted himself diligently to his research. He had over a hundred jars in his laboratory, in which he kept countless of species of spiders. He studiously examined the adaptability of spiders among other topics. Within a half year after the professor started his research, one could find the strangest spiders from all over the world inside this bizarre laboratory.
Half a year passed and the forgetful world forgot about the professor cooped up in his strange laboratory researching on spiders, but one night the university professor Shiomi, a friend who had come to visit professor Tsujikawa, fell to his death from the laboratory and the rumors started again. There were even people who came to take a look at the laboratory out of curiosity. Professor Tsujikawa naturally didn’t let anyone just enter, so these people had to be content with just standing on the ground and gazing up to the circle tower almost ten meters above them.
But the world soon forgot about this incident too. Professor Tsujikawa could finally retreat back and continue with his spider research. But that didn’t last long either. Because one month ago, the professor was bitten by a poisonous tropical spider. He was muttering incoherently as he was brought to the hospital in critical situation and lying in coma for a week, he finally fell prey to the poison. People started to talk about the professor again of course, but this too didn’t last for long and now there is nobody left who looks backs at the death of the professor, his bizarre laboratory and the hundreds of spiders which crawl around there.
I am an assistant at the university’s zoology lab and have some knowledge on arthropods, so the professor occasionally asked for my help with his research. As I mentioned, professor Tsujikawa was a world-class researcher on physical chemistry, but he was an amateur in zoology, so even someone like myself could contribute a little to his research. Though I have to admit that this was only at the start and I was not surprised that someone with the mind of the professor managed to master the topic better than me in such little time. I asked once or twice why the professor had abandoned his specialization of physical chemistry and engaged in research on spiders, but the professor gave no answer and just smiled.
The professor’s family had trouble figuring out how to dispose of the laboratory. The building itself was troublesome of course, but the real problem were the hundreds of spiders inside, among which were poisonous spiders which could take a man’s life. The family didn’t dare come near the building, so they let me take care of it, as I have some specialist knowledge on how to deal with the spiders. And so I came here alone today.
Stepping on the fallen leaves, I walked towards the bizarre building. After staring at the cylindrical tower in awe for a while, I climbed the steep staircase of reinforced concrete. At the top was a small landing, slightly wider than one tatami mat and the only door that led inside the laboratory. The staircase and landing were of course set against the cylindrical laboratory, but there was a very slight gap, because the staircase and landing had been constructed separately from the laboratory (this is just a minor detail, but as this will prove to be important later on, I mention it here).
I entered the laboratory.
I had visited this place several times when the professor was alive and I studied zoology, especially arthropods, so I should have been quite used the sight, but I still shivered and stood still. Inside the bottles which were lined up against the wall, eight-legged monsters were running around and spinning their webs. Big Oni-gumo. Jorō spiders, yellow with blue stripes. Harvestmen with legs ten times longer than their bodies. Cellar spiders with yellow spots on their back. The grotesque Kimura spider and also trapdoor spiders, Ji-gumo, Ha-gumo, Hirata-gumo, Kogane-gumo, all these different kinds of spiders had not been fed for about a month and having lost most of their flesh, were looking around with shiny, hungry eyes. Some jars had not been shut completely and the escaped spiders had spun their webs on the ceiling and in the corners of the room. Countless of gruesome creatures were crawling around on the wall and on the ceiling.
I talked some courage into myself and carefully took a look at the jars. Fortunately, the fearsome tropical poisonous spiders were still locked up safely in their jars. Professor Tsujikawa was discovered in critical state and did little more than just crying out incomprehensible curses, so I don’t know he was bitten, but I was glad to see that the spider responsible for his death had not escaped. I proceeded to check every corner of the room, the back of the bookcase and the desk and even the cracks in the floor, in fear that some other poisonous spider might be hiding there.
I did not find any poisonous spiders, but when I examined the back of the professor’s work desk, I did discover an electric switch on one of the desk’s legs. I thought it to be a strange place for a switch for the lights or heater, so I pushed it two, three times. As I had expected, the lights did not go on, and I had no idea what the switch was for.
I was getting tired by then, so I decided to take a rest. I brushed the dust of the professor’s armchair standing in the middle of the room, sat down and lit a cigarette. Through the broom-like branches of the keyaki trees outside the windows, I could see the clear blue sky. The sunlight of the winter day’s afternoon reached inside the room.
I looked at the cloud that rose from my cigarette as I thought about the professor during his life. I have to say that the professor was quite difficult in his dealings with other people. He enjoyed quite some fame in the academic world, but was disliked by his fellow researchers. Professor Tsujikawa’s colleague professor Shiomi was a lively, bright man, making these two in particular incompatible. The dark professor Tsujikawa always seemed to be the target of professor Shiomi’s jokes, and even though professor Shiomi didn’t seem to be of ill intent, professor Tsujikawa seemed to harbor resentful feelings towards him. However the gloomy professor Tsujikawa not once showed his true feelings face to face.
And my mind drifted back to that day that professor Shiomi fell to his untimely death from the laboratory’s staircase. It happened half a year ago, at the end of summer. Professor Tsujikawa had invited me and when I entered the room, the professor was sitting in the armchair I am sitting in right now, talking with professor Shiomi who sat opposite to him. Unlike his usual manner, professor Tsujikawa was very talkative and his loud laughter sounded like that of a different man. When the professor saw me entering, he offered me a seat and introduced me to professor Shiomi (professor Shiomi was sitting with his back to the door. So professor Tsujikawa, who sat opposite to him, was facing the door, which is why he saw me entering the laboratory. The position of professor Shiomi’s seat will become important later on, so I mention it here).
I joined the pleasant chat. Professor Tsujikawa was unlike the man I earlier described to you. I usually have trouble coming up with topics to talk about when alone with professor Tsujikawa, but now he was acting very lively, and with the always talkative professor Shiomi joining him, even I caught up in the cheery chat. I was very impressed by professor Shiomi’s characteristic humorous and sharp banter and his smooth talking and seeing professor Tsujikawa in turn respond to genially, I realized that the rumors of bad blood between the two had to be wrong (but this half-baked thought turned out to be wrong).
The chat went on and on. I think we talked for about two hours. It was then that professor Shiomi suddenly jumped up from his seat. Surprised, I looked at the professor, who looked as pale as a ghost. Screaming, the professor flew to the door behind him and jumped outside. I had no idea what these events so sudden meant, until I saw a glimpse of a rare spider crawling on the floor. The spider had probably gone near professor Shiomi’s feet.
“That is a kind of trapdoor spider. That Shiomi probably thought it was a poisonous spider,” I think I heard professor Tsujikawa say, as he pointed to the spider on the floor (I also said this to the policemen who had come to examine the body).
But I had not really listened to the professor’s words at the time. Because as soon as professor Shiomi had gone out the door, we heard a cry and something falling. Shocked, I ran to the door, but professor Tsujikawa stopped me. “Look out! There’s a steep staircase!,” he quickly said and pulled me back. Then the professor went out first.
What happened next was also reported in detail in the newspapers. Having jumped outside, professor Shiomi had slipped and hit his head two, three times on the staircase as he made a fatal fall. Because rumors had it that he and professor Shiomi couldn’t get along, the policemen in charge questioned professor Tsujikawa quite fiercely. But I testified that the two had an extremely peaceful, fun chat and professor Shiomi only jumped outside because he saw a spider crawling on the floor, which he thought was poisonous. But it was not poisonous at all, and it was professor Shiomi’s own mistake, as well as him falling off the staircase, so no blame was placed on professor Tsujikawa. But the newspapers had a field day with this and once again reported on how professor Tsujikawa had quit university to focus on his new field of research of spiders and how he spent his days inside a cylindrical tower on top of a nine meter high pillar. The news attracted people and for a while, onlookers would assemble beneath the laboratory, which annoyed professor Tsujikawa immensely, as I stated before. The professor didn’t stop with his research on spiders and stayed inside his laboratory and I heard that lately, he seemed to be acting a bit strange, as the whole ordeal might have gone to his head.
Sitting inside this bizarre circular laboratory, surrounded by monstrous spiders, I thus reminisced on the late professor Tsujikawa and before I knew, a small forest of cigarette stubs had grown in the ashtray on the table. Surprised at how much time had passed, I took one last look at the spiders inside the jars just to be sure and made a plan in my head to dispose of them. With the object of my visit to this room fulfilled, I reached for the door (as I mentioned before, there was only one door), opened it inwards and was about to step outside, when I cried out and grabbed on to the door. I had nearly dropped nine meters down to the ground. This was impossible. There was no trace of the staircase and landing which should have been outside the door! Far away beneath my feet I could see the disk-shaped concrete foundation that formed the base of the nine-meter high pillar, as if beckoning to me.
I rubbed my eyes and took another look. But it was not an optical illusion. I looked around the room. But of course, there was no other door. I closed the door, staggered back inside and looked outside each of the windows. And behold, the landing and the staircase attached to it were beneath the third window.
I was bewildered. If I jumped out of the window to the landing, I could make my way down. This meant I wasn’t locked up in this strange tower anymore, but wasn’t it extremely mysterious that a staircase of reinforced concrete would move in an hour or so?
I stood there pondering for a while, when I suddenly got it. I carefully looked at the sunlight that came through the window. I also looked carefully at the big trees outside the window.
I have it! This round laboratory was rotating silently with the pillar as its axis! Then I remembered. I had found a curious switch at the back of the desk when I arrived here and had pushed it a couple of times. I thought I had switched it off, but I had accidently turned the contraption on and the concrete tower of 4.5 meters wide had started to rotate. I made an estimation of the rotation speed: the staircase had moved about 4.5 meters, which would be approximately 20 degrees. That took about one hour, so it would turn 360 degrees and thus make a full rotation in three hours.
I thought about switching the contraption off immediately, but it seemed better to let it make a full rotation, so I let it run until it returned to its original position. I once again took place in the armchair in the middle of the room, and silently thought about why this room could rotate.
It came suddenly to me. The horrible idea made me shudder. I stood up, shocked. I walked around the room as a madman. I brushed everything in the room away and feverously tried to find something. I needed to know professor Tsujikawa’s secret. I was convinced his secret was hidden here somewhere.
After going through the room in a frenzy, I finally discovered the professor’s diary hidden away in a secret compartment behind a bookcase. With trembling hands, I turned the pages. In it, I found the professor’s secret.
***
19XX, XX, XX
It’s been three months since I decided to kill S. I finally thought of a plan. My reasons for killing S are strictly personal and there is no need for me to try to justify it for my own conscience. I only need to fool everyone else. I don’t need to fool my own conscience. Whenever my intention to kill S wavers, I only need to think of the countless times I have been insulted by him. At both private and public occasions, S has continued mocking me, ridiculing me, oppressing me, abusing me, all under the guise of ‘a joke’. Whether he himself is aware of that or not, to me this is an unforgivable insult. But as I have a timid nature and am a poor speaker, I can never put up a fight against his shining nature and his eloquence and I am reduced to just a mere clown. Entranced by his eloquence and jokes, everybody laughs along, but nobody notices me, the victim, grinding his teeth. No, there is no need for me to write about these events now any more. The conclusion is simple. I hate S. I hate him enough to want to kill him. That is an unmovable fact. The only problem is the method of murder. I have looked at various methods of murder the last three months. But none of those methods were both certain and undetectable. But I did find one interesting method in a mystery short story written by a foreigner. In it, person A wants to kill person B. A rents a room on both the ground and top floor of a large building and had the interior made completely identical, so if someone with an eye mask would be brought in either room, he would not know on which floor he was if he removed the mask. And so, one night, A brought B to the room on the first floor and suddenly tied him up. Then he lied to B saying a time bomb was set in the room which would go off after thirty minutes, at precisely nine, which would turn B into bit and pieces. A then knocked B out with sleeping gas. A carried the unconscious B to the room on the top floor, stopped the clock at five minutes before nine, left B in the room, and closed the door and went away. The clock had to be stopped in advance at the right time, because he could not know when B would wake up. After a while, B woke up. He found his arms and legs tied up, but as the knots were loose, he managed to free himself. Then he remembered what A had said (naturally, he thought he was still on the ground floor). Shocked, he looked at the clock. Five minutes to nine! Only five minutes until the explosion. B jumped to the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Panicked, he tries the window. Luckily, it’s open. Thinking he was on the ground floor, he jumped out of the window. And as you can guess, the next moment he was lying in a bloody pool on the ground. This is an ingenious trick. But if you think about it, to rent two rooms in a building and have the interior to be exactly the same without drawing attention poses quite the hurdle and carrying an unconscious person by yourself from the ground floor to the top floor without anyone noticing is quite difficult. But this method’s fatal weak point is that its results rely solely on coincidence and that it lacks certainness. If B wakes up and indeed panics like you made your order with the waiter, then all is fine, but if he stops and thinks calmly, he may first notice that the clock is standing still. Secondly, he might realize he is not on the ground floor anymore when he opens the window. And what is most dangerous of this plan is that if B would see through it all, his testimony would have left no escape possible for A from a conviction for attempted murder. That is why I thought of one improvement to this scheme. One should not to force B into doing anything. If B isn’t forced to do anything, then even if the plan goes wrong, nobody will find blame with A. 19XX, XX, XX
I quit the university as planned. The construction of my laboratory in the suburbs is also proceeding as scheduled. I had thought about building the laboratory inside my own house, because it would be easier to invite S there, but no matter how brilliant this plan is, I fear that if I attempt this plan in the populated city, someone will notice, so I decided to have my laboratory in the inconvenient suburbs. 19XX, XX, XX
The laboratory is finally completed. I knew just the man for the laboratory’s secret and I have no fear of anyone finding out. The construction workers all think it’s necessary for my research. Who would even suspect I need the device to kill someone. 19XX, XX, XX
I decided to research spiders. I had considered snakes, but very poisonous spiders also exist out there, so I will use spiders. 19XX, XX, XX
I did a test run in the middle of the night. The results were excellent. I was worried about the rotation speed. We humans don’t notice uniform motion if there is no object of comparison. Among the lower animals, there are those who don’t mind even if they have an object of comparison. Flies for example can stay motionless even on the back of a running horse. Flypaper makes use of this behavior. If you smear some substance flies like on a chip of wood, then flies will land on it. But these flies will not notice that the piece of wood starts spinning and finally falls into an inescapable pit, until it is too late. But I was not sure if humans could notice uniform notion without perceiving the world around them – not true uniform motion, but artificial uniform motion. Because of that, I slowed the rotation speed down considerably. People can see the movement of a seconds hand on a watch. But if you glance at the seconds hand for just an instant, you don’t see the movement. That is why when people want to know whether a pocket watch is still working, they listen to it instead of looking at it. But it is almost impossible to see the movement of the minutes hand. The face of a watch is divided in sections and if you stare at it for two, three minutes, you might notice that the hand is slowly nearing the next section, but if these divisions weren’t there, you probably wouldn’t perceive the movement. The movement of the hour hand in turn is probably undetectable. That is why I did a test turn with a rotation speed of one rotation in three hours. The results were very promising. 19XX, XX, XX
I made another improvement to my plans. At first I planned to be alone with S in the laboratory. But I fear I will be suspected of having pushed S myself. But if I arrange for a witness to be outside, he might realize the laboratory is rotating. Furthermore, because I need to execute this plan in the night, when there is nobody in the neighborhood and nothing can be seen through the window, my witness cannot be someone outside. That is why I decided to have a witness inside the room. I will need to make sure this witness will not notice the laboratory’s movement if S really falls to his death as planned. People usually panic when something out of the ordinary occurs, so even if I suddenly move the laboratory to its original state, this witness will probably not notice it. 19XX, XX, XX
I finally succeeded. I invited S over and entertained him. Not knowing he would die, poor S chatted on like he always did, making fun of me. I hid my intentions and told him gruesome stories of poisonous spiders and that I had lost one of them lately. S naturally looked horrified. After a while, K, assistant at the zoology laboratory of the university, arrived as per my invitation. I secretly switched the button on and let the laboratory slowly rotate. No one noticed. To make sure no one would detect the movement, I kept on chatting. S and K probably noticed I wasn’t my usual, silent self. When the right time arrived, I let the trapdoor spider go I had hidden beneath my foot. The spider sluggishly made its way to S’s feet. Having heard my terrible tales of poisonous spiders, S turned pale, jumped up and ran towards the door (perhaps S thought I had set the poisonous spider on him to kill him. He probably knew I hated him and his flight seemed to be made in genuine fear). At that specific time, the door should have been slightly away from the staircase landing. But even a little is fatal. He missed his step, hit the staircase halfway once, bounced off again and fell on the ground. He died instantly. My plan had succeeded perfectly, but even if he had not died instantly, nobody would have suspected me of murder. My witness K of course had no idea of the malice within me. Crying out in fear of the spider, fleeing outside and slipping from the staircase, all were S’s own actions. I returned the laboratory to its original state while K was still confused. The rotation sped up, but K didn’t notice it all. 19XX, XX, XX
Some idiots are making a ruckus beneath the laboratory. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone eventually sees through my plans, but there is no such person here now. 19XX, XX, XX
S died. That is a clear fact. But his death does not offer me as much comfort as I had expected and I even feel something is lacking. I had planned to stop my research on spiders after I killed S. I thought that with S’s death, the university would come to me to offer me a lecturer’s seat, but no news from the university. I am disappointed, but somewhere I feel I can’t stop with my research on spiders. 19XX, XX, XX
No news from the university. I started again with my research on spiders. 19XX, XX, XX
Got a male and female pair of a tropical poisonous spider.19XX, XX, XX
I feel I might be cursed by these spiders. My spiders, they glare strangely at me with eyes like a detective. 19XX, XX, XX
I am cursed! I had not noticed that S’s ghost is inside this tropical spider! Look at those eyes! Those are the eyes of S when he lay beneath the laboratory covered in blood! He has become a poisonous spider! 19XX, XX, XX
I am not going to lose. Not to a mere poisonous spider. S is a fool too. Fitting for someone who got himself killed, he returned to this world as a spider. Come and try. I will crush you. I will pick you apart. But that look…ah, lately, I have become afraid of spiders. Those eyes, those eyes…. Those horrible eyes of that spider… 19XX, XX, XX
I am afraid of the eyes of the spider. I can’t sleep anymore in this room. Tomorrow, I will finish this. Wait for it, spider S, I will crush with my bare hands. ***
The terrifying spider diary ends here. I shuddered as I finished reading. Suddenly I was aware that within all the jars around me, hundreds, thousands of spiders, right of me, left of me, in front of me, in the back of me, all of them were slowly crawling towards me. In a frenzy I ran for the door. Strangely enough the staircase was right there. I flew down the stairs without one look back.
I caught a fever and stayed in bed for several days. During that time, a fire broke out in the bizarre laboratory and everything inside burned down, and the hundreds of spiders all burnt to death. The police thinks a beggar or tramp sneaked inside and started the fire. If there had been no fire, that peculiar tower would have continued rotating in silence, but probably nobody would have noticed, I think even now.
Published in Bungaku Jidai, Shōwa 5 (1930), January issue