Long Shadows

"Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery" 
"Lacon: Or, Many Things in Few Words"

I like reading short story collections, I hate writing posts about them as there's usually a lot more work involved...

Last year, I reviewed three of the four books written by Kagami Masayuki published during his lifetime. Kagami was an active writer in a very short period of only about ten years, unitl 2013, when he died young in his early fifties. In that period however, he became known as a specialist in locked room murder mysteries, who was very strongly inspired by John Dickson Carr. In fact, his series detective Charles Bertrand was directly modeled after Carr's own Henri Bencolin, both sharing the same background as Parisian magistrates, sharing the same appearances and also having an American narrator. The books I read by Kagami were definitely the stuff Carr fans would love, not only in terms of tone and the type of tricks used to create locked room mysteries, but also because they were full of Carr references, a lot of them I, to be honest, didn't get exactly because I haven't read that many Carrs in general, but you could feel Kagami's love for Carr everywhere. In 2022, almost a decade after Kagami's death, publisher Koubunsha released the big tome Kagami Masayuki Mishuuroku Sakuhinshuu which also carries the English title The Uncollected Works of Masayuki Kagami. As the title suggest, the book collects the short stories Kagami wrote in his lifetime which had originally been published in magazines or anthologies, but had not been published as their own standalone release yet. The book collects these ten stories, but very interestingly, these stories actually form a wonderful cohesive collection. Basically only one story doesn't fit with the rest of the selection in terms of theme, which is amazing considering these stories were only collected together in one book because Kagami passed away and these were "left behind."

The book opens with Waga Tomo Henri ("My Friend Henri"), which is technically Kagami's debut work: while his first published novel is Sougetsujou no Sangeki ("The Tragedy at the Twin Moon Castle"), he already had a few short stories published irregularly in anthologies in the years prior.The story is set in 1900 and narrated by Nicolas, a student studying at Haverford College. His friend Henri is from France studying there, while the twins Alexei and Ivan are from Russia. One evening, Alexei, Nicolas and Henri are hanging out in one of their rooms in their dorm, when they hear a bang from the room next door, which is the room of the twins. They go the room, but find it locked. When they finally manage to break open the door, Ivan is lying dead in the room, having been shot. They find the sign "I" next to Ivan. They of course try to warn the campus guard, but then they learn a professor has also been just shot to death and it turns out, near the professor's body was left the message "II". How could the murderer shoot two persons at about the same time, of which one victim was in a locked room? A technically sound story, though I am very indifferent about the coded message, and I can't say the solution to the locked room shooting and the way the murderer managed to kill both men in a very swift manner are very surprising: you are likely to have seen variants on the same ideas elsewhere before, but the story is constructed in a competent manner and fun to read. It's not a big surprise who Henri is, but interestingly enough, a character from this story will also appear in many other stories in this collection, acting as connecting tissue between the various stories.

In Angoumei Matryoshka - Ulyanov Ansatsu Shimei ("Codename: Matryoshka - The Order to Assasinate Ulyanov") starts with a spy discovering a plot by the secret police Okhrana to murder the revolutionary Ilyich Ulyanov. Apparently, an assassin code-named Matryoshka has already been installed in the close circle around Ulyanov. While the spy manages to escape, he is fatally shot and can only convey the presence of the assassin, and their background in German espionage missions before he dies. Meanwhile, Ulyanov, his wife and a few trusted friends are staying in a safehouse, but who of them is in fact Matryoshka? When suddenly one of the people falls from the top floor window while burning, it seems Matryoshka has finally struck, but why was their target not Ulyanov? I like the idea of how Matryoshka is identified (the specific clue), as it's the kind of clue I like very much and wish I'd see more in mystery fiction, but it feels very detached from the impossible elements of the story (there's no synergy). The room from which the victim fell, was locked, but there was one sleeping person in the same room. Physical evidence seems to indicate this person was truly lying in bed sleeping while the victim was killed, set on fire and pushed out of the window, but why would Matryoshka go such lengths to kill someone who wasn't even the intended target? The answer to how the murder was committed, could have been clewed a bit better perhaps, and a diagram of the whole house would probably have made the thing a bit more convincing in terms of character movements, but it's an okay story.

Taru no Ki Sou no Higeki ("The Tragedy of the House of Barrel Wood") is set in Manchukuo (the Japanese puppet state located in Northeast China and Inner Mongolia) and is about a Japanese man Tooru (a big fan of mystery fiction) and his Russian girlfriend Natasia, who are going to spend Christmas Eve together. They are going to visit a museum in Lüshun during the day, while returning back to Dalian at night to visit Tooru's old friend Fedorov. Tooru and Natasia have a nice day in Lüshun, but after the museum visit, Natasia isn't feeling well, leading to them taking a train later and Natasia returning home after arriving at Dalian, while Tooru visits Fedorov alone to explain how they'll have dinner together another time. When he arrives at Fedorov's home, which is built with the crooked wood from barrels, he sees a set of footsteps in the snow leading in the house, but none out. He enters the house, where he finds Fedorov dead, having been stabbed to death! But there is nobody else in the house, though he does spot a set of clothes and a mask in the garden, but no footsteps, as if the murderer just vanished in the sky. The reader with some knowledge of Japanese mystery fiction will probably recognize the name Tooru, Manchukuo and Dalian immediately, so the "twist" about who Tooru is and why a lot of the elements of this story feel so familiar, will not be a big surprise, but as a historical pastiche, this is pretty good! Yes, this story does feel very close to a certain famous Japanese impossible crime story, but this story can get away with this because it is a pastische, giving a good reason for why it feels so familiar, and it has a few original elements too that are really fun if you know your Japanese mystery fiction. This is most of all a fun story, despite a rather tragic background story that cleverly ties into some of the earlier, but also later stories.

As the title suggests, Touya ni Shisu Onitsura Keibu Manshuujidai no Mihappyou Jiken ("Death on a Freezing Night - An Unpublished Case of Inspector Onitsura In His Manchukuo Period") is an Inspector Onitsura pastiche, based on the police detective created by Ayukawa Tetsuya. Onitsura worked in Manchukuo in the earlier days of his career (like in Ayukawa's debut work Petrov Jiken), and it's always cool to see this unique setting again, as the state doesn't exist anymore as it was. The dead body of Stefan Milovski is found in an empty house in Dalian. The businessman had gone missing a few days and his assistant knows right away who killed him: Stefan's twin brother and his mother. Apparently, the twins had been seperated soon after birth when their parents had to flee Russia. Because they couldn't take care of both children, they gave away one of the twins to a woman: Rosa became the mother of the boy she'd call Rubin. But while Stefan became a successful businessman with the help of his parent's money, Rosa and Rubin always had trouble making a living. Recently, they learned about Stefan and started asking for money, claiming half of the money Stefan made thanks to his parents' money, belongs to Rubin too. Stefan refused however, which may have been the motive for murder. When Onitsura examines Rosa and Rubin's alibis for the night of the murder however, he learns they were in a completely different city, to attend to the wedding of Rosa's niece. Onitsura is convinced they did it, but how could they have committed the murder in Dalian while being hours and hours away by train? It's an Onitsura story, so of course it's an alibi-cracking story with an emphasis on train tables! A bit easy to guess due to the presence of one certain plot element that is probably going to make the reader immediately suspect *something* has occured using that. While Kagami does add a few nice pieces of misdirection, you can't help but shake the feeling the main trick is telegraphed so early, the elements of misdirection just don't do enough.

EDS Kinkyuu Suiri Kaiketsuin - Kaiki Suirika ("EDS: Emergency Detective Solution Hospital: The Strange Deductions Department") is the weird exception of this book, the only story that is not a historical work with pastische elements and the one story that is not in any way connected to the other stories via crossover characters. The EDS is a "hospital" where the "Holmeses" (doctors) also have to detect the curious deaths they oversee. In this story, the Holmes-on-duty examines a woman who called the emergency lines because her boss cut her arm off. When the ambulance arrives there, they find the woman bleeding heavily, but also her dead boss. He has bruises on his neck that appear to have been inflicted on him by a hand squeezing his throat. When the ambulance people talk to the woman, they learn her boss was crying something about a cut-off hand roaming around the house, which had been attacking him: he also cut the victim's arm off because he was surprised by her and thought she was the hand. What is going on and why is there a hand walking around? This is almost a horror story, and the solution is incredibly silly. But I think it works in this volume, as the rest of the stories are so.... serious? Like, the other stories are very serious, straightforward takes on classic locked room mysteries, Carr's work in particular, so this story brings a lot of variety. I like the idea of the EDS too, I wish there had been more of these stories (I guess this story has some traits of the Department of Queer Complaints, but it's not really like that...)

Tetsuro ni Kieta Dantouri ("The Executioner Who Disappeared On The Rails") is the big Carr-Kagami crossover story: Dr. Fell is travelling with a new friend in a train, when he sees Superintendent Hadley travelling in the same train. Hadley and his subordinate Ames are tailing Jacqueline Midget, a key figure in a smuggling ring which uses the old routes from the international master criminal Baldwin, who was arrrested some years ago by Charles Bertrand (and who would play a vital role in Kagami's second novel Kangokutou). It seems that she's finally become aware the police are after her, so Hadley and Ames followed her on the train, fearing she's trying to escape abroad. Hadley and Ames have taken the compartment next to her, in the middle of the carriage, while the remaining car is occupied by a third traveler. Because Jacqueline has remained in her compartment the whole evening, Hadley has come to the dining car to get something to eat, while Ames is watching her. But then Hadley is informed something has happened: Jacqueline is dead and decapitated. Ames had been standing on the outer deck smoking, when he saw someone come out of Jacqueline's compartment and enter the toilet. He called out for the conductor, who was in his room in the carriage, who indeed saw someone enter the toilet. Because the doors in this car lock from the inside, Ames had to ask the conductor to open the deck door for him. But when they look in the toilet, they find it empty. Fearing something had happened, they enter Jacqueline's compartment, where she was found dead and decapitated. But where did the murderer go after entering the toilet, as the train was still moving at high speed? This is probably one of my favorite stories of the volume. Partially because of the crossover elements (it's a pretty impressive Carr crossover), but as an impossible crime, it's quite memorable too. While I do think it's a bit too technical/string-and-needley for my taste (it's just hilarious imagining what the murderer would have needed to prepare beforehand and how...), the construction of the mystery is great, and I really like "that prop" that was used to actually commit the murder. The story is also enjoyable without any knowledge of the crossovers taking place here I think.

Ungadoori no Shounen ("The Boy In the Canal Street") is set in Amsterdam just briefly before World War II. A girl who calls herself Hannah becomes friends with a young American boy, Ted Smith (son of Patrick Smith, the chronicler of Charles Bertrand), playing on the Prinsengracht in the centre of Amsterdam, when they see a policeman asking them about whether they saw someone pass by here. They learn a murder has occured in a nearby trade company, Koster Trading, located in one of the Amsterdam canal houses. Ursula is friends with both Hannah and Ted, and tells them her brother was killed. During business meeting with a new business partner, Ursula's father was talking with this man when they thought it was strange Emil (Ursula's brother) wouldn't come down. When they went up to his room, they found it locked and when they looked inside via the window above the door, they saw he was dead, having been hit on the head. But how could the murderer have done that in a locked room, especially as Hannah and Ted never saw someone leave the house? The trick is simple, but I really love how it makes use of something that is very specifically something typically Amsterdam. The story also becomes a rather surprising crossover, as I think a lot of people will soon recognize names like Hannah and Margot in this time setting, and I honestly had never espected to read a mystery story that would do a crossover with that person...

Sei Alexandria Jiin no Sangeki ("The Tragedy at the St. Alexandria Chapel") is actually the very first Kagami story I ever read over a decade ago, as it was included in an anthology I have. Set in Russia, it's about the death of a priest in the St. Alexandria Chapel who was hung from the very, very high ceiling. While I can appreciate this story more now, as I know see how this story ties back to the other stories in this collection, I'm still not a very big fan of it because it's just... mechanical as a locked room mystery, and even with the diagrams, it's pretty hard to understand what really went on there.

Kubitsuri Hanji-tei no Kimyou na Hanzai - Charles Bertrand no Jikenbo ("The Curious Crime at the House of the Hanging Judge - The Case Files of Charles Bertrand") is the one Charles Bertand short story that hadn't been collected in the short story collection, though it feels like it should have been part of it too, as this story too makes direct references to supernatural beings being responsible for a murder (in this story, poltergeists) like the other stories in that book. Charles and Pat are in England, when they learn about two curious deaths that happened nearby one week ago. Alfred Harbottle was a judge known for a lot of hanging sentence, hence his nickname of the Hanging Judge. He recently married a much younger wife, Catherine. As devouted believers, the whole family of Alfred, Catherine and his son of his deceased first wife, Jonathan, attend the service held a the chapel on the manor grounds each Sunday, but this week, Alfred was feeling sick, so he remained in bed. After the service, the butler, Catherine, Jonathan and the priest remained. They were ready to leave, when Catherine returned to the altar because something had been left there, but the next moment, all three witness swear a dagger just appeared out of nowhere, plunged into her throat! The dagger was a relic of the Harbottle family, which had a special design and said to defeat the enemies of the clan. Grieving for his poor wife, judge Harbottle blames the dagger for the death of his wife, and he decided to lock himself up in one of the rooms of the chapel, together with the dagger. For three days, he remained cooped up in the room, with food being delivered to this room, but on the fourth day, he didn't open the door. They broke the door open, which they also found sealed with tape on the inside, and in the room, they found the judge lying dead in his bed, the dagger plunged into his throat too! Has the Harbottle dagger turned against the people it was supposed to protect, or is there foul play at hand? The answer to the murder on Catherine is of the kind I generally don't like, and this is no exception. It could work with some exceptional clewing, but here it feels kinda cheap, even with the set-up and explanation to how it was supposed to work. The murder on the judge, of which the door was taped down, is a bit more interesting. While I am kinda indifferent about the dynamics of how the murder was exactly committed (this kind of trick is used a bit too often in this collection), I do like the exact use of the dagger, it is the type of "technical" explanation that didn't quite work for me in the previous story, but I think is much better in this one.

Jeff Marle no Tsuisou ("The Memoirs of Jeff Marle") is a direct sequel to Carr's own It Walks by Night, the very first Henri Bencolin novel. Which... I have not read. In fact, I have not read any Bencolin stories... While the book does not spoil the murderer of that book directly, it does touch upon several story elements that sounded important to me, so perhaps some readers will prefer to read this after reading It Walks By Night. Set after the book, it chronicles how Jeff Marle (friend of Bencolin and narrator of the stories) and his fiancée Sharon receive a threatening letter from someone from their past, whom they believed had passed away already.  They are instructed to visit at night Fenelli's former gambling establishment where the events of It Walks by Night occured. In one of the rooms there, which was locked from the inside and which Jeff and Sharon had to break open, they find the decapitated corpse of Fenelli. But there is no sign of the murderer in the room, so Jeff quickly calls for the police (while making sure Sharon locks herself up in one of the rooms to be safe). When the police arrives, it turns out there was another person in another room of the house: a Japanese tourist who learned about the earlier murder that Bencolin solved and became interested in the place. While the Japanese man might not be involved with the murder (and yes, like many of the stories here, if you have some knowledge of pre-war Japanese mystery fiction, you might realize who this historical person is based on his name...), there are other mysteries that complicate the matter, like the sighting of a flying decapitated head... I have to admit I couldn't enjoy this story completely because I kept wondering whether the things that were said about It Walks By Night were vital spoilers or not, I think the idea of a straight sequel makes so much sense for Kagami: his work is so full of Carr, and specifically Bencolin references, and he has already written stories directly based on Carr stories before, so why not do "straightforward" fanfiction? It's also one of the better impossible crimes of the volume, with pretty clever clewing about how the decapitation came to be (especially regarding misdirection about some characters' motivations) and with smaller elements like the floating head adding some depth to the mystery. I might have enjoyed the story better if I had known It Walks By Night, but it's a good mystery nonetheless.

Anyway, this was a pretty big volume so this post is quite a bit longer than my usual posts. I can defnitely recommend Kagami Masayuki Mishuuroku Sakuhinshuu/The Uncollected Works of Masayuki Kagami though! It provides a good insight in the writings of Kagami, and because it's easier to purchase now because it's still in print, whereas the books printed during his lifetime are already out of print, it is the go-to book now if you want to try out his work. Nine of the ten stories are also somehow connected with characters popping up in several stories (one character even gets their whole life fleshed out over the course of several stories), and that makes this more than just a collection of random stories. You also get a good idea of Kagami as a locked room mystery specialist, as basically all stories involve an impossible crime, and most of them are historical works too. At this moment, I have read all of Kagami's work except for his third novel, which, as mentioned, is a bit expensive on the used market, so I won't be reading it soon. I think I still like his first novel the best, but on the whole, he was certainly a very fun author to read, especially if you like John Dickson Carr, and he's dearly missed!

Original Japanese title(s): 加賀美雅之『加賀美雅之未収録作品集』:「わが友アンリ」/「暗号名『マトリョーシュカ』 ――ウリャーノフ暗殺指令――」 /「『樽の木荘』の悲劇」/「凍夜に死す 鬼面警部満州時代の未発表の事件」/「EDS緊急推理解決院 怪奇推理科」/「鉄路に消えた断頭吏」/「運河通りの少年」/「聖アレキサンドラ寺院の惨劇」/ 「『首吊り判事』邸の奇妙な犯罪 ――シャルル・ベルトランの事件簿」/「ジェフ・マールの追想」

The Clue in the Old Album

「フェルマーの名にかけて！」 

「TRICK」

 

 "In the name of Fermat!" 

 "Trick"

I honestly first heard of Fermat and his last theorem from watching Trick.

Special events were organized in both the United States and the United Kingdom in 2006 to celebrate the centenary of the meastro of locked room murder mysteries John Dickson Carr, but Japanese fans were of course also thrilled to learn the special occassion wouldn't go unnoticed in their country too. One of the highlights of the special exhibition scheduled for Japan is Carr's own personal copy of Introduction to Unsolved Mysteries, a book gifted to him by the Carr Society. This journalistic work discusses several cases which were, at the time, unsolved because they seem utterly impossible. As a writer of impossible crime mysteries, Carr enjoyed reading this book, and he also loved trying his own hand at solving these real impossible mysteries himself. Whenever he was sure he got the right answer, he'd scribble some vague hints in the margins of the book. While Carr kept his answers mostly to himself, some of the cases discussed in Introduction to Unsolved Mysteries were actually solved with the help of Carr, who sometimes realized the truth was too important to keep hidden for the sake of the survivors. Four cases are known to have been solved with the help of Carr's notes: two during his lifetime, two after his death. But one case with Carr's notes remains unsolved to this day: while Carr knew the answer, the truth was taken with him to the grave and nobody has been able to decypher his cryptic notes yet, leaving the so-called 1938 East End Spontaneous Combustion Case still a mystery. Why did a notorious arsonist suddenly burst into flames and why was the carpet he had been standing on left completely unscathed? The cryptic hints Carr left behind are now known as John Dickson Carr's Last Theorem.

 

A group of seven has gathered in the holiday villa of the Tomosaka family, a major sponsor of the Carr exhibition in Japan. Son Yuuya himself is a great fan of John Dickson Carr and has persuaded the owners of Carr's Introduction to Unsolved Mysteries to lend them the book to study it for a day, before the exhibition starts. The study group is arranged as an officially college-sanctioned project, and Yuuya has invited a few of his study mates from the Science faculty, as well as Professor Taylor, an American who will help the students read the book and act as the supervisor. And of course, these people are all great John Dickson Carr fans. But tragedy strikes in the late afternoon, when everyone has a few hours for themselves: Yuuya is found dead in the Japanese garden in the inner court of the villa, and he's been shot to death with a harpoon. The harpoon was brought here by one of the students for when they would go diving. It appears Yuuya was shot by the murderer with the harpoon in the pool room, and because death had not been instant, Yuuya had tried to escape through the French windows into the garden, where he died. As the harpoon was found lying in the pool room, and no other footprints are seen in the pebble stone covering the garden, it's assumed the murderer just let Yuuya die in the court, but they soon learn this is impossible: workers had been busy in the hallway that afternoon due to a leak, and the two men swear nobody went in or out the corridor that led to the pool room while they were working there, meaning the murderer couldn't have escaped the pool room after killing Yuuya! John Dickson Carr may have solved several real-life crimes in Introduction to Unsolved Mysteries, but will his notes, and his Last Theorem also come in handy in solving their new crime in Tsukatou Hajime's 2020 novel John Dickson Carr no Saishuu Teiri, which also has the English title John Dickson Carr's Last Theorem?

 

Last year, I reviewed a short story collection by Tsukatou Hajime that was inspired by Ellery Queen: this time it's a novel inspired by John Dickson Carr. Though you may also have heard of the short story of the same name. Back in 2006, a special anthology was released in Japan to celebrate the centenery of John Dickson Carr, and Tsukatou Hajime wrote John Dickson Carr's Last Theorem for that book. Tsukatou extended that story into a full-fledged novel last year. I haven't read the original, but I assume the core ideas are the same.

 

Though I assume that a lot has been added, because this mystery novel is really packed, with no less than three impossible murders. Two of these are from Introduction to Unsolved Mysteries and were originally solved by Carr himself. The first involves a pistol which is said to slay only the wicked and that the bullet will always finds its target. One afternoon, the elderly owner of the pistol shot at her window, saying she couldn't resist the pistol's call anymore and that evil had to be killed. At the same time, the confidence trickster who tormented her husband and caused the familys financial ruin is found to have been shot to death while lying in the hospital. It is determined that the bullet did indeed come from the magic pistol, but the victim couldn't have be shot by this pistol: the hospital lies in the complete opposite direction from the window from which the widow shot, and you even have to cross the bridge across a river to get to the hospital. And the only window in the victim's hospital room wasn't even looking at in the direction of the widow's home. So how could she have shot him? The situation is alluringly complex, so it shouldn't surprise you that the solution also involves more than a few steps and I have to admit that personally, it felt a bit too contrived because of that, with too many 'moving parts' (which add more risk) all just to engineer the scene of a magic bullet for the reader. It's a clever, practical solution to the initial problem, but it can feel rather forced. I can also easily imagine lots of people loving this story though. Just don't count on using Carr's hints to solve this crime. They are far too vague, and even after reading this book and knowing what the hints are about, I still think it's impossible to infer the truth based on what Carr scribbled in the margins.

 

The scribbles that make up John Dickson Carr's Last Theorem are also not really handy if you want to solve the East End case yourself, as they are far too vague, but I do like the basic idea of this case. How come the victim was found lying on an intact carpet, even though some moments before, people saw him standing on that carpet while literally being in flames. The solution to this is surprisingly simple, but what makes this an interesting story is that a notion that features in the solution of this case, also applies to the current-day murder on Tomosaka Yuuya. So by solving John Dickson Carr's Last Theorem, you also gain an important clue to the real-time case. I'm personally a big fan of such ideas, with parallels between cases but not just simply 'hey, this murder was committed the same way as that other murder", but with more abstract mirroring of dynamics/concepts/etc. The same also holds in a way for the magic pistol tale, though not as strongly (I suspect the "first'" case was not part of the short story version of this novel).

 

The current-day murder is the most fleshed-out case in the novel of course, and it's a very nice conundrum! You have the impossibility of how the murderer escaped even though the hallway was under observation and there were no footprints of the murderer in the pebble garden in the courtyard (and there's only one other exit from the courtyard anyway). There's also the powered-up harpoon as a unique murder weapon, results in the grotesque scene of the harpoon being plunged in the victim's body, but that it's still connected through a line to the shooting apparatus lying in the pool room. The mystery is set-up in a fairly large manner, which allows for a few characters to try and come up with their own theories about how the murder was committed. It results in some interesting discussions where theories are proposed and discarded and ultimately even fairly elaborate (false) solutions are presented. I'm a bit torn on the one "major" false solution: the starting point for this theory is good, and it's great how this contradiction actually does lead to the correct solution if taken into a different direction, but the false solution features a lot of elements that are rather shoddy ("and then he somehow managed to arrange for that to happen, and then..."), so it's hard to take it really serious. The final solution is fun though! Like I mentioned, it has some parallels with the unsolved cases from the past, but applied in very different manners and while imagining it makes it look a bit silly, it's actually very well thought-out, with especially the major contradiction that at first seemed to lead to the false solution being brilliantly turned around to explain what really happened in the garden. Definitely the highlight of the novel.

 

I have to say the motive for the current-day murder, and the way the book ends doesn't really work for me. A lot is left rather vague, which may have worked in the short story version, but now it feels underwhelming and almost cheap in the sense that it avoids giving you any clear answer about what next. Perhaps more fanatic Carr-readers might like the ambiguity of this ending, but I'd have preferred more closure to the tale.

 

But any John Dickson Carr fan will probably have a blast with John Dickson Carr no Saishuu Teiri. It's brimming with (actual accurate) references to the writer, as well as an interesting fictional backstory with the Last Theorem and other cases he supposedly solved and the main murder also serves as an interesting impossible locked room mystery. I have a feeling I might've preferred the short story version perhaps, but I think most will absolutely love the parade of impossible mysteries put on display here.

 

Original Japanese title(s): 柄刀一『ジョン・ディクスン・カーの最終定理』

In The Mind To Suffer

"Paris in the fall, the last months of the year, at the end of the millenium. The city holds many memories for me, of music, of cafes, of love, and of death."

"Broken Sword: The Shadow of the Templars"

As people may have noticed, I'm not a big fan of John Dickson Carr. Not that I dislike his works, but unlike other authors with similar reputations I never really caught the virus. I liked The Judas Window a lot for example, and I think The Hollow Man has some great moments (it's a bit too contrived at times though), but I never felt the urge to read all of Carr (or certain series), while I did have that feeling of wanting to read more and more with Christie's Poirot and Ellery Queen. In fact, I can't even see what people prefer in Carr over early Queen in terms of pure mystery plot (I can see the point if we're talking about story 'fluff', but in terms of the core mystery plot...). I might read some Carr whenever I come across them and most of the books I read have some okayish-to-good ideas and concepts in them, but for some reason I never get that "I need to read more" epiphany. So I usually average out on maybe one Carr review once every two, three years...

After her divorce with cheating and ne'er-do-well Ned Atwood, beautiful Eve Neill got herself engaged with Toby Lawes, of the respectable Lawes family. The Lawes lived right across the street from Eve in the city of Paris, which is also the reason why Eve was scared to death when one night Ned appeared in her bedroom, with the helpf of a spare key he had kept. Unable to give Eve up, Ned pleads with Eve not to marry Toby, and to come back to him, but Eve rejects him vehemently, but with her in-laws right across the street, she's afraid to make a scene, as being seen with her ex-husband in her bedroom late at night probably doesn't look good. Ned refuses to give up however, and even threatens her sexually to prevent her from marrying another, but as he notices that Sir Maurice Lawes, father of Toby, is in the study, he walks over to the windows to draw attention to him and Eve. Eve tries to stop him, but the two see a horrifying scene. Sir Maurice has been bashed on the head, and it's obvious he's not among the living anymore, and Ned even spots someone leaving the room at that very moment, though he's not willing to share the identity of the owner of the brown gloves with Eve. Eve tries to get Ned out of her house as quickly as possible, fearing the police and her in-laws will come as soon as the murder is detected, but pushes Ned off the stairs in her haste. Ned manages to leave the premise with a bloody nose and a bump on the head, but this turns out to be a grave mistake, as Eve is later suspected as the murderer on Sir Maurice, as the police found blood on her clothing (which we know is Ned's), as well as a shard of a snuff-box once owned by Napoleon, which has just been purchased by Sir Maurice that night and which had been smashed into pieces at the crime scene. And to make things even worse: the fall on his head resulted in a concussion for Ned, and he's been unconcious for days, unable to collaborate Eve's story. Luckily for Eve though, a certain doctor is able to find a way out for her.

The Emperor's Stuff-Box (1942) is, as far as I know, widely considered as one of Carr's finest works, and interestingly enough not even a locked room, or impossible mystery. It felt in my eyes a lot like a Christie-esque story in fact, with a focus on psychological misdirection. Which granted, Carr also liked to use, but with a thriller-like set-up, the relatively simple murder (no 'dressing up', but just a corpse lying in the study with quite a few bashes on its head), the members of a single family at the crux of the problem and rather limited setting, The Emperor's Stuff-Box felt surprisingly familiar to me as someone who has read much more Christie than Carr. Christie's 4.50 From Paddington (1952) dates from later than this novel, but uses a similar opening scene by the way, with someone witnessing a murder through the window (in Paddington's case, it's someone seeing a murder happening in a train that's running parallel to the one the witness is riding). The idea of a window literally serving as a window into a world of (possible) murder is probably best known from Hitchcock's Rear Window, my guess would be.

So no over-the-top, mystical magic tricks in The Emperor's Stuff-Box, though obviously, psychological misdirection is part of any good magic trick. And what's done in this novel is quite brilliant. What happened in Sir Maurice's study is essentially really nothing more but one of the most basic of magic tricks, combined with another very common mystery trope, but it is pulled off in a very convicing way here. To be honest, I figured out quite early on what was going on, because once you recognize the pattern, you'll realize you'll have seen dozens of variations of the same idea in other mystery stories, but knowing what was going on made my reading experience an educational one, as I saw more clearly why some things happened. For example, I am normally a bigger fan of the short story format, and at first, I also felt this story might've worked better as a short story (more on that later), but I realized what was going on, I understood why this misdirection worked much better in a full-length novel, as it has more time to settle. The misdirection also works on more levels than just the story-level (in fact, it works outside the book itself!), but it also needs the room a novel offers to fully work. It's interesting that the misdirection starts even before the first page of the story, in a way, but it'll remains quite fair towards the reader. Simpler variations of the same idea can often be found in courtroom drama mystery, now I think about it.

In fact, I am inclined to say that this piece of psychological misdirection is an especially fair one. In general, I think psychological clewing is a hard to do in a truly fair way in mystery fiction. When we get to "He may have felt X, so that's why he believed Y", I feel (hah!) there's too much uncertainty. Sure, the writer can repeatedly say character Z has this or that character trait, so there was no doubt Z would do that, but still, these explanations can feel a bit forceful. The Emperor's Stuff-Box however makes good use of its medium (a book), as well as the fact that part of the misdirection is not only aimed at a certain character in the book, but also at the reader at the same time. The reader who is fooled until the end will thus not feel "cheated" by the explanation about the psychological misdirection in the denouement, as very likely, they'll have been victim of that same idea too.

I am a fan of logic school mystery fiction and there human psychology is usually reduced to one easy-to-remember rule: any character is to act in their own best interest, given the knowledge they have at that moment. That means a murderer might take actions that seem strange, but they make perfect sense considering the knowledge they have at that very moment. There is less uncertaintity about human psychology and the things they might do there, as it's mostly based on self-preservation and knowledge flow.

I do really have to point I really disliked most of the characters in the book. There are very few nice people here. Most of them are actually quite nasty, and to be honest, I found it quite a chore to read the book because each scene was filled with characters who I really didn't like talking in melodramatic ways. And part of that might be design, but man, it's been a while since I read a novel with basically no likeable characters.

So in short, I found The Emperor's Stuff-Box to be an entertaining mystery novel, that manages to take an otherwise a very common, and basic trope from both stage magic and mystery fiction and use it in a very effective manner, with a novel that is clearly built around this certain piece of psychological misdirection. It's an excellent example of using craftmanship to make much more of a simple and common idea. That said, the characters are definitely not the main attraction here.

A Highland Fling with a Monstrous Thing

flying fall down 

羽ばたきながら墜ちてゆくの

君の傍へ 

「flying」（Garnet Crow）

flying fall down

I spread my wings as I come falling down

To your side

"flying" (Garnet Crow)

There is a negative relation between the number of posts I write on a day, and the quality of the review and especially the introduction. Sorry. I really shouldn't write more than two reviews back-to-back.

In John Dickson Carr's The Case of the Constant Suicides (1941), a chance and comedic meeting between two academic rivals in a train coach leads to the discovery that they are both members of the Scottish Campbell family and that they were summoned to the family castle in connection to the recent death of Angus Campbell. Ol' Angus apparently threw himself of a high tower to a messy death, after having setting up no less than three life insurance policies with "no suicide" clauses. At one hand, the fact Angus' tower bedroom was locked from the inside seems to indicate it was indeed simply suicide (meaning no pay-out), on the other hand, items that should be in his bedroom, and items that shouldn't be in his bedroom seem to cast some doubt to the nature of Angus' death. Dr. Gideon Fell is asked to help the Campbell family with their not-suicide claim, but the Scottish tower doesn't seem content with just one victim, for another character throws himself off the tower.

I think I've mentioned it several times, but I never really got 'caught' by Carr (or Carter Dickson) like other people appear to be ( (I'm more a fan of Queen). While I've read some fantastically constructed mysteries written by him (The Judas Window), I just never managed to get really enthusiastic about Carr as a writer, actively searching out more of his books. Somehow, I am just totally overlooking the magic it seems to have for other people. Anyway, a quick look told me that The Case of the Constant Suicides's a fairly well-received locked room mystery by fans (of Carr), so how was the book in my eyes?

Well, as a mystery novel, I did not think it was really impressive. Even though I figured out the main trick quite early, it is the type of solution to a mystery I don't really like. The "gimmick requiring specialist knowledge" solution. Whether it's for a locked room mystery or any other type of mystery, it's a solution-type that should only be used sparingly and even then, it should only be used with proper hinting and set-up. Use of specialist knowledge and such can be asked and expected of the reader, as long it has been given proper attention in the main story, but this is seldom done. In The Case of the Constant Suicides, the solution is both boring, and not particularly enjoyable as a mystery plot. The identity of the mastermind also hinges on a plot device that seldom works in print, I think. Both Christie and Conan Doyle have done very similar things, but in my opinion, it's a plot device that is simply too vague to be really satisfying (and Carr's "psychological" hints are too open for various interpretations to be convincing).

I did enjoy the overall comedic tone of the story though, even if it was a bit too exaggerated at times (the Scottish jokes!). There's a fair amount of slapstick comedy too that I didn't think really funny (note that slapstick comedy can work wonderfully in mystery fiction, as shown by Higashigawa Tokuya). The bickering between Alan and Kathryn Campbell (academic rivals and second cousins) is quite fun, and while the romance subplot between them is both predictable and unbelievable, it has about the right amount of 'fiction fantasy' for the reader to just go with it.

Oh, I did sorta enjoy the thick Scottish accents in writing: I really had to read them out loud to have a good idea of what they were saying, but that did add to the experience. 

Overall, I thought The Case of the Constant Suicides was at best a mediocre mystery novel, mostly enjoyable for its non-mystery elements (the characters and the comedy). I might not be a big fan of Carr, but I've definitely read much better impossible crime mysteries by him that were much more satisfying in terms of originality, execution and pay-off. 

Mr Short and Mr Long

森へとri ra ra ra

doorを叩く

まい散る風　悲痛な（かなしい）叫び（こえ）が

聞こえぬよう祈りながら

フラリ　フラリ　駆け抜ける

「Marionette Fantasia」 (Garnet Crow)

To the forest li la la la

Knock on the door

Praying I won't hear

The fluttering wind, its sad voice

I keep on running

"Marionette Fantasia" (Garnet Crow)

The return of Short Shorts! Most people probably don't remember this corner, but it's mostly a collection of several, unrelated items. Sometimes I just have trouble writing a full-length review of something: to prevent these reviews from staying in limbo, I just combine multiple of these items in one Short Shorts post. Usually fairly incoherent posts, though today's Short Short is surprisingly following a popular theme: the impossible crime in short story format.

I had always wanted to read John Dickson Carr's famous short story The House in Goblin Wood and because in Japan you can just walk in a bookstore and get a new copy, I did just that. Over a year ago. The collection Youma no Mori no Ie (The House in Goblin Wood) has confusingly the English subtitle The Third Bullet and Other Stories and to make the chaos complete, this collection is not the same as The Third Bullet and Other Stories released outside Japan. Anyway, The House in Goblin Wood deals with the disappearance of Vicky Adams from an observed house, one of the witnesses being Sir Henry Merrivale. Vicky had done the same disappearing act when she was a child and when she returned she said she had been with the fairies. Has adult Vicky gone to the fairies again? The House in Goblin Wood is definitely a masterpiece: short, but expertly designed. It's completely solvable (I did, actually), but the way the story develops within the small amount of pages, the spooky disappearance and the whole truth at the end are presented, fantastic!

This collection also has The Incautious Burglar (Guest in the House), The Locked Room, The Clue of the Red Wig and The Third Bullet, but none of them really impressed to be honest. The Third Bullet in particular felt too long, even though the solution seemed so obvious. The House in Goblin Wood shows that sometimes shorter =  better. The Clue of the Red Wig has a Queenish murder scene: a woman dressed just in her underwear with a wig next to her is found in a little private garden/park. The pay-off is not particularly interesting in the end, but not bad (though I am quite sure I'll forget about this story in just a few months).

Which is an art Edward D. Hoch had mastered. I had already said in my review of the third collection of the Dr. Sam Hawthorne series that I probably wouldn't do full reviews anymore (see the review for more details), which makes it ideal material for this short short. Like a lot of Tokyo Sogen's publications, this volume has an English subtitle, which is Diagnosis: Impossible 4  - More and More Problems of Dr. Sam Hawthorne and that's the best way to describe it: yes, it's 'just' more impossible problems for the New England town doctor Sam to solve, and yes, the stories are still mostly the same in terms of structure, but heck, they are fun! There is a bit of a running storyline, with Sam hiring a new nurse and all, but it's still about all the mysterious murders that make Northmont one of the scariest places to live.

The Problem of the Haunted Tepee should be mentioned, as it's a crossover story with Hoch's Old West mystery series Ben Snow. An elderly Snow wants Sam to solve the mystery behind a haunted tepee, of which Snow himself had seen its deadly powers. This volume also contains the short story Frontier Street as a bonus story, which too is part of the Ben Snow series. The best story of the volume is The Problem of the Leather Man, where Sam has a long walk with the titular 'leather man' to the next town. They both take lodgings there, but the next morning the man is gone, and everybody, from the people at the lodgings to the people Sam had seen during the walk, say that Sam had been alone. Is the good doctor going crazy? This story takes a plot device I've seen quite often lately (probably just a coincidence), but constructs it in a reverse way, which makes it feel quite fresh. Sam has always been closely related to the crimes he solves as witness, but this time there's not even a crime and it's his own sanity that is being questioned. Quite different from the other stories in terms of development and type of story, something that is quite welcome once in a while.

And that wraps up this Short Short! Again, this corner is mostly reserved for materials I have trouble writing a full post on, so it's fairly irregular. For all I know, it might take once again a year and a half for a new Short Short to appear.

Original title(s): John Dickson Carr  『妖魔の森に家』: 'The House in Goblin Wood' 「妖魔の森の家」 / 'The Incautious Burglar' (Guest in the House) 「軽率だった夜盗」 / 'The Locked Room' 「ある密室」 / 'The Clue of the Red Wig' 「赤いカツラの手がかり」 / 'The Third Bullet' 「第三の銃弾」
Edward D. Hoch 『サム・ホーソーンの事件簿』IV: 'The Problem of the Black Roadster' 「黒いロードスターの謎」 / 'The Problem of the Two Birthmarks' 「二つの母斑の謎」 / 'The Problem of the Dying Patient' 「重体患者の謎」 / 'The Problem of the Protected Farmhouse' 「要塞と化した農家の謎」 / 'The Problem of the Haunted Tepee' 「呪われたティーピーの謎」 / 'The Problem of the Blue Bicycle' 「青い自転車の謎」 / 'The Problem of the County Church' 「田舎教会の謎」 / 'The Problem of the Grange Hall' 「グレンジ・ホールの謎」 / 'The Problem of the Vanishing Salaryman' 「消えたセールスマンの謎」 / 'The Problem of the Leather Man' 「革服の男の謎」 / 'The Phantom Parlor' 「幻の談話室の謎」 / 'The Problem of the Poisoned Pool' 「毒入りプールの謎」 / 'Frontier Street' 「フロンティア・ストリート」

The Adventure of the Greek Interpreter

「パトカーの中で、〇〇〇は同じ言葉を何度も、何度も呟いていたらしい。何で自分は日本人じゃなかったんだ、何で彼女はアメリカ人じゃなかったんだと。まるで壊れたからくり人形のように、何度も、何度も繰り返して・・・」

『名探偵コナン』

"In the patrol car, X kept muttering the same words over and over again. Why wasn't I Japanese? Why wasn't she American? Like a broken puppet, repeating those words over and over again..."

"Detective Conan"

My reading pile of detective fiction is no more. It has ceased to be. It's expired and gone to meet his maker. Which means that I'll have to be content for the while being with my reading pile of secondary literature. Which is pretty fun actually. As a student, I have to write papers regularly and I do like it when I am able to use detective fiction for my academic writings. Even if I have to be a bit... creative at times. Imagined communities and early Japanese detective fiction was a bit of a stretch though. Even by my standards.

Hasebe Fumichika's Oubei Suiri Shousetsu Honyakushi ("A History of Western Detective Novel Translations") is precisely what the cover says it is: a history of translations of Western detective novels in Japan. To be more precise, early Western detective novels. The book was originally published in 1992 and won the Japanese Detective Writers Assocation Price (like Shakaibu Kisha, Kao, Honjin Satsujin Jiken and Geneijou). And it is certainly an entertaining and informative read. Hasabe looks at the history of Western detective novels in Japan by focusing on a set of authors he considers influential to Japanese writers. He looks at both the original publication dates in the country of origin as well at as the various publication sources / various translations in Japan and is thus mainly set in the Taisho and early Showa period (1912~36). Which is not always easy, because not only did early Japanese translations of Western fiction often have altered titles, some early translations were also more like free adaptations of the original story.  Which is also where I have to correct myself. I once wrote that R. Austin Freeman's The Eye of Osiris wasn't translated into Japanese until the 1950s, but that's not true. A serialization of the novel had actually started in the very first issue of Shinseinen in 1920 already (the mystery magazine of that time, where Edogawa Rampo also made his debut) under the name Hakkotsu no Nazo ("The Mystery of the White Bones")

Hasabe discusses the following writers in their own chapters: Agatha Christie, S.S. Van Dine, Johnston McCulley, R. Austin Freeman, Gaston Leroux, Freeman Will Crofts, Joseph Smith Fletcher, Alfred Machard, Maurice Leblanc, Edgar Wallace, John Dickson Carr, G.K. Chesterton and several authors he groups together as French writers, German writers and early short story writers. While most names are familiar, a name like McCulley (of the Zorro novels) might seem surprising. Which is what makes this book interesting to read, as it is a Japanese reception history of Western detective novels and occasionally you see how some writers were received differently across the sea. There are sometimes even surprising revelations, like for example when Hasebe writes that Japanese critics had low expectations of American writers in that time and that Edogawa Rampo thought that Van Dine's novels were OK, considering they were written by an American! Hasebe also gives an interesting description of the role of translators, who were actually very active with the material themselves. Translators often identified the materials suitable to translate and some of these men were very good in reading the market, for example finding and translating Agatha Christie's short stories to Japanese at a very early stage of their English publication.

Hasebe's study is pretty detailed on the supply side of the story, with much information on the many translations, publications, adaptations and children's adaptations of the various stories of the authors, but is sadly enough somewhat short on the demand side of the market. There is little to no information about the market itself, with most of Hasebe's story focusing on translators and publishers. He also does not explain why he deemed the authors he chose important. I assume it's because these authors / works had a great influence on early Japanese writers, but it is odd that Hasebe does not try to show this explicitly. He sometimes quotes Edogawa Rampo (mostly from his Forty Years of Detective Fiction memoirs) on how Rampo felt about certain books, but that is pretty much it. It would have made this book so much more interesting if Hasabe had made the connection between Western authors / novels and the Japanese authors / novels more clearly.

The book also misses a clear introduction or contextualization, which is actually quite necessary for the topic. The book is structured by the authors, but is quite unclear how Hasebe decided on this structure. Why Christie as the first author? This book needs more contextualization, especially in the sense of how the period this book describes forms a continuation on the Meiji period translations / adaptations (like by Kuroiwa Ruikou). Yes, I know there are specialist books for that (I have one actually) and I know that this is not a book 'beginners' in the genre would pick up, but I can very well imagine that this would be a somewhat confusing or boring read if you can't place it in the proper context.

Oubei Suiri Shousetsu Honyakushi is certainly a well-researched book, but it lacks a bit in portraying the information Hasaebe gathered as actually being relevant. It is a bit ambiguous now and some readers might find the list of translation publications bit boring to read without proper contextualization within the book. As a standalone book, it is too vague I think and while the topic concerns Western authors, I don't think a translation of this book would work at all, without the larger context of early translation practices and the introduction of detective fiction in Japan.

Original Japanese title(s): 長谷部史親  『欧米推理小説翻訳史』

「心に並べても未完成なパズル 」

「事件に大きいも小さいも無い」

『踊る大捜査線』

"You don't judge cases by their size"

"Bayside Shakedown"

Welcome to another entry in Short Shorts. Or wait, this is actually the first Short Shorts. Am I really going to call this Short Shorts? Hmm. Anyway, this is where I post things that aren't nearly interesting enough to justify a whole post on their own, but are somewhat acceptable if thrown in with some other bits and pieces. The bits and pieces are unrelated, but who cares?

I bought Speak of The Devil over a year ago and decided yesterday to finally read it. Speak of the Devil was a radio drama (this being the script) written by John Dickson Carr and is basically an enhanced version of She Slept Lightly (which is collected in 13 to the Gallows). A historic mystery where a man is haunted by his desire to meet a girl who is supposed to have been hanged some years earlier, but the mystery is rather light and the sappy love story really asked a lot of tolerance of my part. Speak of the Devil and She Slept Lightly are also extremely similar, so there is actually no need to read both stories. Are there actually scripts available for Suspense? Carr had some interesting stories there, which would have been much more enjoyable to read than Speak of the Devil.

Reverse Thieves has a pretty interesting segment where they discuss homages / parodies to detectives in non-related anime/manga series. To name some of my own favorites: The Serizawa Family Murder Case, a chapter in the classic Golgo 13. In fact, Golgo 13 is a name that might be mentioned more often from now on. The titular Golgo 13 is the world's number one professional assassin. And that's pretty all to the story. The stories often involve international politics in the background, but most of the interesting stories are when Golgo is forced to make an impossible snipe. Thieves like Lupin might be experts on how to make a seemingly impossible theft, but Golgo 13 is an expert in overcoming the odds and assassinate people in seemingly impossible situations. You know, the more I think about it, the more I think I really should write something more extensive about Golgo 13 sometime.

But anyway, The Serizawa Family Murder Case is might be an origin story for the perfect assassin. The story has a slow start, but presents the reader with a very interesting impossible disappearance halfway through the story. A woman is seen entering a hotel room, shortly after followed by a man. Police officers have all exits under surveillance. After some time however, the man exits the room, complaining that the woman still has not come! The police has no idea what's going on: they swear they saw the woman enter first, but the man says she was never there and simply thought that she was late. A search of the room shows that she has really disappeared from under the police's nose. The solution is a pretty suprising one if you weren't expecting a locked room mystery in your Golgo 13.

Another locked room mystery I had totally forgotten about is in King Ottokar's Sceptre, the eight album in the Adventures of Tintin series. I will refer to Tintin as Kuifje (his Dutch name) from now on by the way, because Tintin just feels strange. I haven't seen the new movie (and I seem to be the only one who genuinely enjoyed the videogame), but rewatching the 90's TV series reminded me of the locked room mystery in King Ottokar's Sceptre. In it, the titular sceptre disappears from a guarded room, with the only person inside being knocked out. While the solution is pretty simple and arguably maybe a bit childish, it's still a pretty entertaining story.

For me, reading/watching detective fiction is something I usually do on my own, so I naturally keep all my thoughts I have to myself. Occasionally I cry out some incoherent stuff, but it's usually a silent process. As I watched some episodes of (the awesome) Game Center CX however, I realized how strange it is to hear someone else think out loud while confronting a piece of detective fiction. In episodes 105 and 113, section chief Arino challenges the two detective games Hokkaidou Serial Murder Case - Disppear to Ohotsk (sequel to Portopia Serial Murder Case) and Kamaitachi no Yoru. While in episodes with action-based games, most of the fun of the show is derived from seeing how Arino struggles to progress in the game, these two episodes show a surprisingly sharp Arino trying to solve the murder cases in those games. Most Game Center CX episodes are filled with expressions like "Aaah, game over!", "Jump!!", "Need more lives!!", but as these kind of tensions are usually not present in detective games, Arino is forced to think out loud, to voice his deductions in order to fill out the 60 minutes of the show.

 And it's actually really fun, hearing how someone tackles a detective story. When you watch a detective show with someone else, you'll occasionally voice your deductions, but in these two episodes, Arino has to talk constantly because he is the only person in front of the camera and he has to pull the viewers in. It is really strange to follow a person's complete train of thought while playing a detective game, or engaging in any kind of detective fiction, but it's really interesting to see how people's way of thinking and deducing differ, even if the input (the story/clues) are the same. It's more fun that simply comparing solutions, because here we see the complete picture of how Arino progresses through the story and changes his ideas as he encounters new evidence. And sometimes bumbles around. Greatest moment of the Kamaitachi no Yoru episode? When the protagonist in the game exclaims he know who the murderer is, while Arino exclaims in return that he has no friggin' idea who the murderer is.

Thus ends this short short. I'll probably forget about the existence this type of post.... by the end of next month and will probably invoke it again in six months or so. That increasing pain in my head is also probably trying to tell me I should sleep now.

The Armchair Detective

 「実に非論理的だ」、湯川学、『ガリレオ』

'Truly illogical', Yukawa Manabu, "Galileo"

Huh. I hadn't written anything about Carr yet?

Looking at my preference in detective novels, you'd think I'd be a big Carr fan, but I am not. Carr's The Hollow Man and The Judas Window are excellent novels in my opinion, but I just can't get very excited about Carr's works in general. Which is really weird. There are no reasons for not liking him and a lot to like him. I do want to be more enthusiastic about his works, so I'm always looking for the book which will convert me into a Carr-fan.

And I was hoping 13 to the Gallows to be that book when I started reading it. 13 to the Gallows , by Carr and Gielgud, is a collection of 4 plays by Carr en Gielgud, similar to the (excellent!) The Adventure of the Murdered Moths and other radio mysteries (Queen). It should have been the book that would have converted me, as I'm a fan of a) detective novels, b) radio dramas and c) detective radio dramas.

The last two stories in the collection, Intruding Shadow and She Slept Lightly didn't impress much, but I was very taken in by the first two stories, Inspector Silence Takes the Air and Thirteen to the Gallows. Inspector Silence Takes the Air was more Queen-ish than Carr, as the plot revolves around a gun used in a murder disappearing from a BBC studio. The setting of a BBC studio is also used in Thirteen to the Gallows which is classic Carr with a seemingly impossible murder. Both stories are great in their setting, the problem and the solution. And I quite enjoy reading detective plays.

And yet, I wouldn't say this book made me a Carr fan. I will happily recommend this book to everyone (after they've read Queen's The Adventure of the Murdered Moths...), I don't really have any complaints about this book, in fact, it features quite interesting problems. So I like it on a personal level, it's also solid on a more technical level. Heck, this book even features an introduction and notes and everything I get all happy about in book releases. And yet... it didn't convert me. Even after reading this, Carr is just "the writer who has some excellent books among his books" to me.

Therefore I conclude there is some irrational part within me that just doesn't want to get all fanboyish with Carr's work like I am with Queen's work. Or maybe it is rational, as I can only read that many books in this lifetime...

Luckily, I've already ruled the possibility I will ever like Sayers' work (except for Lord Peter Views the Body). I keep trying, but it never, ever pays off. Strong Poison, the last one I read, actually had a simple, yet effective plot. Which had its interesting parts. However, the interesting parts were either in the first chapter or the last chapter. The 20-ish chapters between those chapters were awful. This will be the last time I'll mention Sayers here. I give up on her.

『死亡の館、赤い壁 (空城の計)』

「怪盗は鮮やかな手口で獲物を華麗に盗み出す芸術家だが、探偵はその跡を見て難癖を付ける批評家に過ぎない」
『名探偵コナン』

"Phantom thieves are artists who magnificently steal their trophies with the most brilliant tricks, but a detective is nothing more than a critic who looks at the results and tries to find faults."
"Detective Conan"

One of the first things that surprised me when I first visited the local Yamada Denki was that they sold books. And then the second surprise was that they were selling an immense Arsène Lupin boxset (placed next to an (Edogawa Rampo's) Shounen Tantei Dan boxset), which I still want to buy every time I walk past it. Then I realize I already own most of the books in a language I can read a lot easier.

So instead, I bought Nikaidou Reito's Meitantei no Shouzou ("Portrait of Great Detectives"), which featured pastiches on Maurice LeBlanc's Arsène Lupin, Ayukawa Tetsuya's Inspector Onitsura and John Dickson Carr's H.M. Merrivale (whom I'll admit I always confuse with Carr's Fell. In my head, they're the same). Prior books by Nikaidou I read where good, so expectations were high. If only I could remember when and where I bought this book. It was just sitting on my shelf here, but heck if I can remember where it came from.

But setting the mystery of the appearing books aside, expectations were fulfilled. 'Cept for one story (of which I can't determine whether it was a pastiche or not), they were all enjoyable. While I shamefully admit I actually like Ellery Queen's A Study in Terror, I usually don't read detective pastiches (parodies, I love though). Occasionally coming across titles like Sherlock Holmes vs. Dracula explains why. But Meitantei no Shouzou was great, so I was quite happy. Especially the Arsène Lupin pastiche, Lupin no Jizen ("The Charity of Lupin") couldn't be more Lupin even if LeBlanc himself had written it. Sekishisou no Satsujin ("The Murder of Smallpox Manor") with its disappearing people and a cursed manor was an enjoyable Merrivale pastiche, which Nikaidou clearly enjoyed writing, seeing all the references to other Merrivale adventures.

One story in this collection wasn't a mystery or a pastiche though, but very relevant. Kaasuke no Seiki no Taiketsu ("Kaasuke's Match of the Century") is the ultimate homage to bibliophilic mystery readers. A "restaurant" that serves no food, but instead detective novels, ranging from the newest books to vintage books in original print? A Yomu-lier (Read-i-lier (Sommelier)) who will suggest the best books to read? A duel which is decided by determining the title and vintage of a book just by a single sip passage of the book? While it still appeared strange to me to bring your date to such a restaurant, the rest of the story was plain awesome. They should make manga about bibliophiles.　

Original Japanese title(s): 二階堂黎人 『名探偵の肖像』/「ルパンの慈善」/「風邪の証言」/「ネクロポリスの男」/「素人カースケの世紀の対決」/「赤死荘の殺人」