The Book of Changes

"postea vero quam Tyrannio mihi libros disposuit mens addita videtur meis aedibus" 

"Ad Atticum"

"And ever since Tyrannius has arranged my books, the house seems to have acquired a mind."

"Letters to Atticus"

Since the last five years or so, a lot of my reading has shifted from the physical format to the digital format. While I personally like the medium of paper better, sometimes books aren't easily available physically anymore while an e-book is just one click away, and more important (for the wallet), digital storefronts very often have sales and coins-back campaigns, which make digital releases often a lot cheaper, and this also makes it more easy for me to try out all kinds of books (whereas I'd be much more conservative in the books I'd buy if I'd only read physical books).

So when I was in the bookstore a while back, I suddenly got the urge to look for a mystery novel that doesn't have a digital release, and when I googled on the topic, one book was recommended a lot: Sugii Hikaru's Sekai de Ichiban Sukitootta Monogatari (2023), which also carries the English title The World's Clearest Story on its cover. The obi mentions how it is a book that only works in its physical format and indeed, there isn't even a digital release available of this book. And yet, when you pick the book up, you wouldn't expect this to be the case, as it looks very normal, and it's not like the book comes with physical pieces of evidence like the Crime Dossiers or anything like that. The book is actually quite thin, so on the surface, it really looks like nothing special.

Of course, that's until you start reading it. Or to be exact, when you reach the ending.

Fujisaka Touma is a student who lost his mother recently: his mother was a well-known proofreader, who once had an affair with the famous mystery writer Miyauchi Shougo, a notorious playboy who quite often cheated on his wife. Touma's mother decided to raise Touma herself, accepting nothing from Miyauchi and cutting all ties between them, though most people in the industry know about the affair and that Touma's Miyauchi's child. When Miyauchi also passes away, he's suddenly approached by Matsukata Tomoaki, his half-brother. Touma had not even ever spoken to his father, let alone his half-brother, but the first impression is not a favorable one: Tomoaki is only calling Touma to tell him his father was not nearly as rich as people thought he was and that there's nothing left for Touma, if he dares to make a claim on the inheritance, and he wants to know whether Touma knows anything about "The World's Clearest Story": Tomoaki found notes indicating his father had been working on a manuscript with that title, and that a version of the manuscript had even been sent to a proofreader, which Tomoaki suspects might have been Touma's mother, considering their history. Because the inheritance is so small, Tomoaki wants to have the manuscript published posthumously soon to cash in on his father's death. Touma says he's sure his mother never had anything to do with his father anymore, but Tomoaki is quite pushy, and eventually strikes a deal with Touma, who will be paid to find out where the manuscript went to (but Touma has to relinquish any claims on the Miyauchi inheritance). And so Touma starts looking for the last story his father wrote, a story nobody seems to know about or what is about, with the title The World's Clearest Story as the only clue.

This is a very difficult story to talk about, as not only is it very short, explaining why this book indeed can't be released digitally would of course spoil the surprise, and even hinting at it might ruin the fantastic ending Sugii has prepared for the reader. The story itself focuses on Touma's investigation into the manuscript, trying to find out where it has gone to: diary notes by Miyauchi across a longer period of time do indicate the existence of an advanced version of The World's Clearest Story and that it has been sent somewhere, but where? What makes the manuscript even more elusive is that there are no notes on the actual contents, so no research or drafts/summaries. Tomoaki gives Touma the contact information of all the known affair partners of his father hoping Touma can trace the whereabouts of the manuscript, but Touma also receives valuable help from Kiriko, a literary editor at the major publisher S who often worked with his mother, and who has become a family friend. She acts as this story's armchair detective, as she's the one's who is able to properly process all the testimonies Touma gathers from all the "suspects" in order to arrive at the true meaning behind The World's Clearest Story. As the story progresses, Touma learns about more the man his father was through the eyes of the people he questions, slowly forming an image of a man he never actually knew. Where someone like Miyauchi's own son Tomoaki has nothing good to say about his father, others are far more forgiving, remembering the great mystery writer as someone to be respected. This ever-changing image of Miyauchi is also what colors what Touma, and the reader, will think The World's Clearest Story will be, as it is obvious Miyauchi wasn't working on "just" another mystery novel.

To say even more however, would be spoiling the fun. What I can say is that I was hugely surprised when the truth behind The World's Clearest Story was revealed. While I had already suspicions about certain things, I had never expected it to be utilized in such an amazing manner. It also helps Sugii really helps set up the surprise in a human manner too, as his portrayal of Miyauchi (through the eyes of the others) really sells the idea: without this context, you might think "cool idea, but why would anyone go to the trouble of doing all of that?", but in this book, you just understand why someone would want to endeavour to accomplish exactly that. But yes, this is impossible to do correctly in a e-book, it is only possible in a physical book format, and it's really worth the experience.

So I can't really talk too much in-depth about this book, because that'd spoil the fun, but I can safely say Sugii Hikaru's Sekai de Ichiban Sukitootta Monogatari has been one of my favorite reads of this year and I can easily recommend this. Even if you generally read e-books, it's definitely worth getting this as a physical book, as it will provide a reading experience simply not possible with an e-book. With many moving to digital books, it's cool to see people coming up with such great books that only work on paper! There is a sequel by the way, which does have a digital release, so I do wonder what kind of thing is played out there...

Original Japanese title(s): 杉井光 『世界でいちばん透きとおった物語』

A Body To Die For

"Bart, I have a riddle for you. What is the sound of one hand clapping?"
"The Simpsons"

 

Never seen a full sumo match before now I think about it.

 

Disclosure: I translated Yamaguchi Masaya's Death of the Living Dead. What, you haven't read it yet? Go read it!

 

Kazumi hadn't been in Sam's life for a long time as his stepmother before she passed away, but she had a great influence on Sam's life, and it sparked a life-long interest in Kazumi's home country of Japan. After losing his father too, Sam decided to emigrate to Japan. Fortunately, his stepuncle reassures Sam he's welcome in Japan in a letter, and soon, Sam found himself boarding the ship on its way to Kannon City, a harbor city known for its gigantic statue of the Bodhisattva Kannon (which also serves as a lighthouse). Sam has studied the language and culture of Japan in the States, but of course, there's a lot one can only learn "on-site". However, soon after he lands in Japan, he finds himself involved in several curious murder cases that are inticrately connected to Japanese culture, from a harakiri ritual where the head is stolen to a murder in a locked tea ceremony room. After solving these cases successfully, Sam, who now goes by the nomer Tokyo Sam, decides to open his own detective agency, and after getting the right licences, he's all ready for business in Kannon City, but what Japanese wonders await him in Yamaguchi Masaya's short story collection Zoku: Nihon Satsujin Jiken ("The Japan Murder Case: A Sequel", 1997)?

Or, if you have read the first Tokyo Sam book, you'd know that the "real" author of this book is one "Samuel X", an American who got all his knowledge on Japan from books and stuff, but who had never visited the country itself. Yamaguchi, supposedly, came across this book in a used book shop, and found it so curious, he decided to translate it after managing to contact Samuel. The Japan as envisioned in the book was set in the modern world, but was at the same time an amalgation of  'all the cool Japanese stuff Samuel knew' with a good dash of cultural misunderstandings, with for example people using mobiles, but also samurai walking around, and people still using rickshaws. After the success of this translation, Yamaguchi contacted "Samuel" again, and it turned out he had an unpublished manuscript lying about for a sequel, and after some nagging by Yamaguchi, he got permission to translate this second book.

Yes, this is just a framing story, but it's a really fun one, and it was what made the first book so special: the setting was incredibly unique as it was about a fictionalized, idealized and misunderstanding-filled Japan, imagined by someone who had never visited the country and made up of stereotypes and very broad interpretations of Japanese culture. But, Yamaguchi also used this laughing-mirror Japan to present mystery plots that were only possible in that very unusual Japan, making use of ideas and concepts that were genuinely Japanese, but still transformed in a way that felt unnatural, in a deliberate manner. If this had been written by a non-Japanese author, they would have been criticized due to their complete mispresentation of actual Japanese culture, but because we had a Japanese author do this, it resulted in a very unique experience, as it was Yamaguchi's knowledge of actual Japanese culture, but also the stereotypes that allowed him to write this.

 

The book opens with Kyojin no Kuni no Gulliver ("Gulliver in the Land of Giants"), which starts with Tokyo Sam opening his detective agency, and soon he is visited by his first client: a sumo wrestler he met the day before via a shared acquaintance. While this wrestler belongs to a sumo stable which focuses not on competitive sumo, but in ceremonial sumo, they do occassionally participate in matches, and recently, there had been tragic accident during one of this wrestler's matches, and his opponent passed away after tripping in an unfortunate manner. But a few nights ago, in the garden, he heard his dead opponent calling out his name and he swears he saw the man's head sitting on one of the garden lanterns. Tokyo Sam is to find out whether this is the handiwork of someone trying to scare him, or the actual floating ghost-head of his opponent. Sam visits the sumo stable where he learns about ceremonial sumo, and during his visit, the stable is also visited by wrestlers from the stable to whom the dead wrestler belonged, and these wrestlers are clearly still very pissed about the deadly incident. Tokyo Sam of course suspects wrestlers from the other stable are trying to scare his client, but one afternoon, after following up on a lead and returning to the stable, he finds one of the wrestlers has been murdered. He loses consciousness due to a timely earthquake, but then finds the body gone, and later finds the gigantic body hanging from a torii gate. Who has committed this murder, and why?

This is a fairly long story (about 2/3 of the whole book), more like a novella, and feels quite different from the stories in the first book because of it, even if it has a lot of recurring characters and does have the same slapsticky feel at times. The story uses the extended page count to slowly set-up the story, and the story focuses more on Tokyo Sam's adventures/investigation than previous stories, even with chase scenes and Tokyo Sam going undercover in search for clues. I personally liked the more "problem-focused" approach of the previous book more, but your mileage may vary here, and while of course the Japanese aspects in this story are fictionalized up to a degree, learning about other types of sumo besides competitive sumo was quite interesting. As a mystery story, I think the tale has some good ideas, some others I'm rather indifferent to. There's one clue for example regarding symbolization that is really good, and very well based on Japanese culture which I think even local people might fall for pretty easily, and that works really well in the context of the book: presenting misunderstandings about Japanese culture even Japanese might have. But other parts like how the (big) sumo wrestler's body disappears from the stable and ends up hanging from the torii gate I found not as interesting, especially not because a certain revelation related to that trick seemed to fall flat for me: the way it was presented here, the "revelation" didn't feel like one, and just a weird oversight by everyone until the story decided it should become relevant now.

 

Jitsuzai no Fune ("The Ship of Existence") has Tokyo Sam befriending a travelling zen monk, who has been planning to visit a local temple Tokyo Sam thought to have been abandoned. The monk brings back a manuscript written by an American who had also been visiting the temple titled The Ship of Existence, where he questions his understanding of zen and pleads for help. Tokyo Sam, mesmerized by the manuscript makes his way to the temple, where he sees the American being killed by a figure. What is going on? To be honest, even after reading the story I don't really know. This story is completely different from the previous stories, delving into zen and philosophy to basically work towards a punchline. I have seen Yamaguchi do something similar in a different short story, so to me, this felt a bit like a rehash, but the way it was told here, via zen koan problems to make Tokyo Sam realize something, just didn't appeal to me personally. This might be an interesting story if you're into zen philosophy, but I found this so extremely different from the other stories, I just couldn't enjoy it at all.

I liked the first book in this series a lot, but I have to admit I didn't like Zoku: Nihon Satsujin Jiken that much. While the first story is alright, it misses the impact the stories in the first book had, and it's fairly long despite the mystery plot not being that dense. The second story is just a completely different type of mystery, being based on philosophy, and that's just not really a topic that really interests me, and I found this story really not fun to read at all. So overall, I was a bit disappointed with this second volume of Tokyo Sam, as I did enjoy the first book a lot. This is also the last book featuring Tokyo Sam, so it's a bit of a sad way to end the series for me, but nothing to be done about it!

 

Original Japanese title(s): 山口雅也『續・日本殺人事件』:「巨人の国のガリヴァー」/「実在の船」

The Gambler's Club

"It's me, Kaiba. And this time, you don't stand a *ghost* of a chance."

"Yu-Gi-Oh!" 

The Kyoto University Mystery Club is a name you'll hear about sooner or later whenever you get into Japanese mystery fiction. It is, in essence, the birthplace of the shin honkaku  (new orthodox) movement in mystery fiction, as the first writers who were actually promoted with the term "shin honkaku" were members of the Mystery Club. Members of the club are all fans of crime and mystery fiction in general and there are quite a lot of members who after graduation find work in related industries, like publishing (editing). I attended the Honkaku Mystery Award ceremony earlier this year and I was surprised to learn so many people there had roots in the KUMC, with a few people even I knew personally from my own time there. But with quite a few well-known alumni who have become established mystery authors, it's no wonder there are also many members who focus on the creative side of mystery fiction, ergo, writing stories themselves. 

Houjou Kie was active as a writer during her time in the club too, but she made her professional debut in 2019 with the stunning Jikuu Ryokousha no Sunadokei ("The Hourglass of the Time-Space Traveller") and she has since become a personal favorite of mine. Since her debut, she has been entertaining her readers with tightly-plotted mysteries that utilize original settings, ranging from murders inside a virtual reality game, a girl teaming with a ghost to solve a murder and a series about a hotel for the criminally inclined. She has also been writing a lot of short stories lately, published in several magazines. The last time I wrote a post tagged short shorts, I discussed two stories by her and funnily enough, this time I will be discussing another short story by her. 

Shoubu no Yukue ("The Outcome of the Match", 2025) was written for a new series of flash fiction titled "5 Minute Labyrinth" in the weekly magazine Shuukan Bunshun ("Weekly Bunshun"). As the story is only about four pages long, you can guess I can't tell you too much about it, but the premise is pretty alluring: the story opens late at night, in a nearly empty bar with only a few regulars hanging around until it's time to close. A woman enters and she starts a wager with the other people in the bar: the bar regulars have to guess whether a new customer will arrive within the next fifteen minutes or not. If they guess right, the woman will pay 30.000 yen, while if they get it wrong, they'll have to treat her on a glass of the most expensive drink in the bar. It turns out the regulars in this bar had already heard about the woman: she has been doing this bet in all the bars in the neighborhood. The regulars accept the bet and start guessing whether it's likely a new customer will come or not, but why is this woman repeating this wager with everyone?

As I said, the story is very short, but Houjou does manage to make it a neat armchair detective experience, with proper hinting available and even surprise twists, all tightly compressed in a few pages. The somewhat sinister ending is also very Houjou-esque, who has been doing these "dark ironic twists" a lot in her Amulet Hotel stories, but you already saw glimpses of anti-hero nuances in her Ryuuzen Clan series. In fact, I could actually imagine the basic idea of Shoubu no Yukue as an Amulet Hotel story with some rewriting. 

And to move on to another Kyoto University Mystery Club member who has made a professional debut: Washuu Takumi is actually a current member of the club, who recently (jointly) won the third iteration Sougen Mystery Short Story Award, which is given by publisher Tokyo Sogensha for the best new short mystery story by an amateur writer. As is usual with these awards, the winners are given a publishing contract for their story, in this case, the stories are published in Tokyo Sogensha's literary magazine Shimi no Techou and as a seperate e-book. Washuu Takumi's story is titled Yuurei Shashin ("The Phantom Photograph"), which starts not long after Anri lost her father suddenly. While reminiscing about her father, her uncle mentions her father loved to take photographs as a hobby, though Anri only has vague memories of that and says she didn't really see him doing photography that often anymore in recent years. They go through her father's study though and find some undeveloped negatives. She goes to a nearby camera shop to have them developed, but one photograph stands out: it is a picture of her father in his study. Nothing wrong with that, but the camera also printed the date on the picture and it is dated on the day after her father died. This is thus not a photograph of a ghost, but a phantom photograph, a photograph that shouldn't exist. But why is there a photo of her father dated the wrong way?

This is a tightly-written mystery with an everyday-life theme: while one can easily come up with a direct reason why the wrong date could be printed on a photograph (wrong setting, battery failure), one wonders how exactly it could have happened. The commentaries of the three judges in the committee on all the finalistsis included and regarding Yuurei Shashin, they note how this is an incredibly complete story, almost unimaginable from an amateur writer. One even wonders how Washuu could develop from this point on. Indeed, the story is very competently written, with a mystery that is, admittedly, a bit too mundane for my own personal taste, but as a story, Yuurei Shashin is very well-plotted, with good clewing for the mystery too and even substantial character development. As a standalone mystery story in a slice-of-life setting, I think it's a very well-crafted tale worth a read.

Oh, in case you missed this post, last year I discussed a Danganronpa guess-the-culprit scenario written by another current member of the Kyoto University Mystery Club. 

Anyway, I just wanted to briefly discuss these two KUMC-related short stories that happened to be published around the same time. It's become easier for me to get hold of these kinds of stories in serial publication, so you might see the short shorts tag used more often in the future too.

番外編：The Clock House Murders Released

It is finally October 2025 and that means it's finally here! My English translation of The Clock House Murders (Tokeikan no Satsujin) by Yukito AYATSUJI was released last week by Pushkin Press. Or at least, it was released in the United Kingdom on the ninth of October. Readers in the United States have to wait until... June 2026. Sorry about that.

(And yes, I'm late with this announcement post. I was actually hoping for my own copy to arrive first before I'd make the announcement so I could make a personal picture, but it's still on its way...) 

It's been exactly a decade since I first translated The Decagon House Murders for Locked Room International back in 2015. Since then Pushkin Press has taken over the license, starting first with a revised re-release in 2021. Fortunately, they were interested in releasing more of the series and both Ayatsuji himself and Pushkin wanted me on board again, so then followed the sequel The Mill House Murders in 2023 and a third book, The Labyrinth House Murders in 2024. And now in 2025, it is time for The Clock House Murders, one of the most-praised entries in the series and also a personal favorite of mine. The book won Ayatsuji the prestigious Mystery Writers of Japan Award and it is a work I know Ayatsuji is very proud of and even since I got started again on The Mill House Murders, he'd mention how he'd want to see The Clock House Murders in English rather sooner than later. The book was originally released in 1991 and is set in the titular Clock House, a house with a huge clock tower and a floorplan designed like a clock, where a priceless collection of antique clocks are kept. Ghosts have been spotted in the neighborhood and a crew for the magazine Chaos are going ghost-hunting in the Clock House with the help of a spirit medium. The participants are locked inside the old section of the house where the collection is kept and they'll attempt to communicate with the ghost over the course of three days. However, they start getting murdered one by one, without any means to call for help from the outside world...

As I mentioned, The Clock House Murders is one of the most well-beloved entries in the series and can be kind of considered the grand "season 1 finale" of the series, as the first few books were written in quick succession, but after The Clock House Murders, Ayatsuji would slow down a lot more and also be more experimental in the directions he'd go with the series, with some entries being very different from others. The Clock House Murders is a grand cumulnation of Ayatsuji growing as a mystery author, starting with his debut with The Decagon House Murders and reaching one of his highest point with this award-winning novel. The Clock House Murders is being adapted as a live-action show for Hulu in Japan right now as a direct sequel to their earlier The Decagon House Murders adaptation by the way, with a scheduled release date of early next year.  

I myself am a big fan of the book: in a way I feel it's a more refined version of The Decagon House Murders and I really enjoyed revisiting the house while working on the translation this time. Oh, just allow me a little of bragging here: a while back I met Ayatsuji, and we're actually having a drink served in Decagon House Murders cups and on the table stood a Clock House Murders table clock. Miraculously, we all survived this meeting.

So if you liked The Decagon House Murders, The Mill House Murders and/or The Labyrinth House Murders, please pick up The Clock House Murders too. It is without a doubt one of the best works Ayatsuji wrote, and I have no doubt a lot of readers will enjoy this one. And don't remember, positive sales and reception is the most likely to ensure more translations follow (hopefully by me of course...), so it'd be great if you could pick up a copy!

Death of a Clown

"X marks the spot."
"Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade"

This book was released with a new cover in 2024, and the art is really great! So do try to get this one if you're interested in the book.

One evening, wheelchair-bound Takemiya Kaori and her father Munehiko are talking in her room, when they hear a loud cry. Carrying his daughter out of the room, the father and daughter see how a woman runs across the cross-shaped corridor, barges through the balcony doors at one of the far ends and flings herself out from the balcony down to the cliffs below: the funeral of Kaori's mother Yoriko followed soon after. Mizuho, Kaori's cousin, is asked by her mother to go visit the Cross Mansion to learn more about the death of her aunt Yoriko. Three generations of Takemiyas live at the Cross Mansion, named so after the characteristic cross-shape of the main hallway. Takemiya Shizuka is the matriarch of the family, having lost her husband recently. Yoriko had become the CEO of Takemiya Industries, but now her husband Munehiko has taken over her position. Besides Kaori, there's also a college student Jinichi living in the house, the son of a family friend studying at a nearby university.  Also visiting are Yoriki's cousin (who also works at the company) and Shizuka's personal hairdresser and family friend. Upon arrival at the Cross Mansion, Mizuho learns that the family had recently acquired a clown doll, which for some reason had been put on a display shelf on the night Yoriko flung herself from the balcony. The first night, Mizuho wakes up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, when she notices a button lying on the floor. She figures someone must have lost it, and places it in a visible place. The following day however, the dead bodies of Munehiko and his secretary/affair partner are found in the music room, having been stabbed. Everyone's surprised, not just by the murder, but also by the fact the secretary is in the house in the first place, as she left after dinner last night and it doesn't seem likely the two would be that daring to continue their affair in the Takemiya manor. Mizuho however is very shocked when she learns a button has been found outside the house, seemingly indicating the murderer left the house and dropped the button there.... but because Mizuho knows the button had initially been dropped inside the house, on the first floor cross-shaped hallway to which all the bedrooms are connected, she realizes someone inside the house must have placed that button outside after she had found it, suggesting the double murder was an inside job.

The day of the murder, the monk Gojou Shinnosuke presents himself at the house, claiming he is looking for the clown doll: it is supposed to be cursed, having brought all of its previous owners a premature death and he needs to purify it. It turns out the clown doll had been placed inside the music room, meaning it is evidence for now, so Gojou sticks around, hoping to retrieve the doll once the investigation is over. However, what nobody in the house knows is... is that the clown doll actually has a mind of its own. While it can't move or commnicate, it has been a silent witness to everything that has been happening in this house, from the death of Yoriko to the double murder in the music room, and he knews who the murderer is in Higashino Keigo's Juujiyashiki no Pierrot ("The Clown of Cross Mansion", 1988). 

Some might remember I mentioned this book in my review of ("How to Make A Crime Scene"), where it is discussed as one of its case studies, especially in regards whether the house was designed well enough keeping in mind one of its inhabitants (Kaori) is bound to her wheelchair.

 Juujiyashiki no Pierrot is one of Higashino's earlier mystery novels, back when he was still writing more classical detectives rather than the human-drama-focused mystery novels he writes nowadays. And I guess that is clear right from the start due to its unique premise: here we have a house with a unique layout (a cross layout), and there's the matter of the clown: each chapter is bookended by a monologue of the clown doll: it is a silent and truthful witness who has seen the murders happening right in front of him, even seeing the actual murderers doing their jobs, but they can not actually communicate with the other people, so they are basically a "seperate narrative" within the story. Surprisingly, this is actually used in a clever way to make the mystery much more interesting, even though the clown actually knows what is happening and there's not much of a mystery going on in their eyes: however, certain discrepencies between what the clown has seen and what we learn via the police and Mizuho's investigation of the crimes really help flesh out the mystery, creating a few "Aha!" moments that only work because we have testimony from a detached, otherwordly witness who can't interact otherwise with the world. 

And if you're mostly familiar with Higashino's modern-day writing, it might surprise you how very much not human-drama this mystery is, and a lot of the mystery-solving is very much evidence-based: Mizuho's whole reason for suspecting the murderer is in the house, is based on a deduction based on the button and the fact she knew at what time she found it, and at what time the button was later found outside the house. There are more of these "phsyical evidence-based" deductions in this book, which combined with the curious layout of the house, as if it were a Ayatsuji novel, really make this feel very different from what you'd expect of a Higashino novel nowadays. In fact, a lot of the characters are decidedly not very engaging nor nice in this book, not in a 'but it's human' kind of way, but almost comically so. The live-in student Jinichi for example is one, who constantly hits on Kaori and keeps saying he'll be the one who'll marry her... even though Kaori never ever shows any sign of thinking that much of the young man. 

While more deaths follow, the main mystery revolve around the double murder of Munehiko and his secretary in the music room, which is located on the ground floor of the Cross Mansion: interestingly enough, the living quarters of the house are all set on the first floor of the building, while the ground floor only holds the music room and a storeroom. While some clues seem to indicate the murderer might have stabbed the two, and then fled through the backdoor, the earlier button-deduction tells Mizuho the murderer was in the house, and the clown testimony tells the reader too the murderer was one of the people in the house, but who was it? A lot of Mizuho's investigation delves into the exact times everything happened, and also the mystery of why the secretary was in the house: she most definitely left by car to go home after dinner, so for what reason did she return to the Cross Mansion? While the bulk of the book is dedicated to solving the mystery, I have to admit developments felt a bit slow at time (even though this is a very short book), and moreover, the murderer's plan really involved very risky stuff for... like some benefits I guess, but was it really worth risking that just on the off-chance things would go as they hoped it'd go? Large parts of the mystery just feel more aimed at the reader, rather than it being the safest plan for the murderer (and in fact, luck does play a large part), so that feels a bit unsatisfying. It's not bad per se, but I can't help but shrug at it because it feels complicated for the sake of being complicated, and not for the sake of accomplishing the murderer's goals in a safe and sure manner.

A murder that is focused on much later in the story is more memorable, and makes better use of its props to present a more convincing mystery, though I admit it's rather simple in design, and I am going to guess a lot of people are able to guess what's going on here very early on. Saying more would perhaps already point too much to it, but I do want to make a special mention of the very clever use of the clown doll in this part of the mystery: it's not outrageously clever taken on its own, but by using the clown prop, a propr that actually can "testify" to the reader alone about what it sees, Higashino does manage to give this part of the mystery more flair than if he had just used the concept 'as is'.

Overall, Juujiyashiki no Pierrot is fairly light reading, so it's not a book I would go out of my way of recommending because it's not really making a huge impression, even if it's pretty decent. It is very, very different from what you'd expect of Higashino Keigo now though (especially considering what part of his output is available in English), so if you're interested in his earlier works, that are much closer to formal orthodox mystery fiction, this book is a fairly good example, similar to Kamen Sansou Satsujin Jiken ("The Masquerade Mountain Villa Murder Case") and the Great Detective Tenkaichi series.

Original Japanese title(s): 東野圭吾『十字屋敷のピエロ』

The Chinese Gold Murders

"No Chinaman must figure in the story."
"Ten Commandments for Detective Fiction"

I mention this basically every time I do reviews of stories I read in Japanese but set in a Chinese-language setting, but I hate how much more time it takes for me to write these reviews, because I have to look up what the Chinese pronunciation is of all the names...

Pei Jing, a state examination candidate student living in the bustling city of Chang'an in the Tang Dynasty, is one day summoned by Mole, the Kunlun slave (= the dark-skinned slaves hailing from isolated parts of South-East Asia) of his friend Cui Jing. While the bright young lad knows it's quite impertinent for someone of his standing to request anything, he hopes Pei Jing can help him save his master: according to Mole, Cui Jing has barely been returning home lately, going to work, but asking not to be picked up after work, and he only returns very late, without providing for any explanation. Pei Jing learns from Mole that this all started after Cui Jing had been sent as a representative to the Palace Attendant Yaun Zai, one of the men closest to the emperor, and that since that night, Cui Jing has been acting suspiciously. Pei Jing, worried his friend might have gotten involved in something shady, starts asking questions, but as he follows the trail, he ends up stumbling upon the mutilated body of a merchant, whose stomach has been cut open and whose intestines have been removed: the latest victim in a series of gruesome murders with the exact same M.O. that have been happening in Chang'an. Dou, a friend and police detective in Chang'an, confides to Pei Jing that for some reason, the local district police forces have taken off this case, with the investigation being headed by a group of guards who are under the direct influence of Yuan Zai. The official investigation is focusing on Xu Long, a shady Taoist who has been gathering followers lately and is supposed to be well-versed in the mystic arts: he might have eaten the intestines as part of the rituals needed to attain immortality. Dou however feels something is not right, and suspects the murders might have to do with the reason why Cui Jing has been mostly absent from his home for the last few weeks, Pei Jing and Dou start investigating the case together, which brings them on the trail of a big corruption scandal, and an impossible crime where a group of assassins appeared out of nowhere and disappeared with a heap of gold in Koizumi Kajuu's 2024 novel Konrondo ("The Kunlun Slave").

Some years ago, I discussed Koizumi Kajuu's 2000 debut novel Higa ("The Moth"), which featured a highly original setting, being set in twelfth century Middle-East and focusing on the mystic side of Islam as its theme, while also presenting a locked room mystery. Interestingly, Koizumi basically disappeared after his debut novel, as he wouldn't write another novel until 2024's Konrondo, which again uses a rather unique setting, and being a 'modern' take on a wuxia romance with the exact same title, a tale revolving around the nearly supernatural Kunlun slave Mole who endeavours to help his master. Koizumi once again shows he does a lot of research into these settings, and he paints a very unique background for this sometimes fantastical tale of mystery. While a lot of mystery readers might be familiar with a classic China setting mystery through Robert van Gulik's Judge Dee stories, Konrondo definitely feels different enough in both its setting and style. For one, like in Higa, Koizumi focuses a lot of the mystic side of culture: Konrondo will teach the reader a lot about mystic Taoism and the search for life elixers and eternal life by these Taoist, whereas van Gulik's Judge Dee books usually focus more on the "official" sides of society like the upper class and state Confucianism. Koizumi also has an eye for the minorities in the community of the Chang'an metropolis. From the bright Kunlun slave Mole to informant proprietor's of brothels and Dou being of Turkish descent, it's quite interesting to see how many of the major characters are not ethnically Chinese or not from the higher social classes, again in contrast to a majority of the settings in Judge Dee stories.

As a mystery, Konrondo starts off a bit slow, as there's no clear mystery: things start off by Pei Jing looking for Cui Jing, but it's not like anything really mysterious is going, Cui Jing is just barely coming back home. And just when you think things become more "properly mysterious" when we learn about the series of murders on officials who have their guts taken out of their bodies, this investigation also seems to not move as quickly or deeply as you'd suspect, as Dou isn't officially on the case and can't be too overt in his operations with Pei Jing. In the end, a lot of this story is about characters talking, and some parts do feature a lot of exposition: when Dou first tells Mole about how the official investigation is suspecting the Toaist Xu Long, they have a whole historical and theological discussion about how Mole cannot believe Xu Long is actually a follower of the deity Lushanjun, the Lord of Mount Lu. Which is interesting and all, but it's a very slow way to tell you just that Xu Long might be a swindler and how the belief the murderer is just someone who's into eating intestines is probably wrong. 

The mystery becomes more interesting when Pei Jing and Dou learn about a corruption scandal involving Yuan Zai and a shady deal that went completely wrong: Men affiliated with Yuan Zai were supposed to make an illegal deal with merchants to by-pass taxation, with the men on both sides meeting in a small hut in a lonely field. The merchants and buyers went inside the hut, where heaps of gold and the imported items would trade owners. Guards under the influence of Yuan Zai were posted on the field to keep an eye on things, but something went wrong suddenly: a fire broke out in the hut and people started screaming, and suddenly three assassins appeared from inside the hut, having killed the people inside, and continuing their kill spree outside, taking out over a dozen of Yuan Zai's guards: the sole survivor had fleed the scene and laid low, keeping an eye on the hut. After the assassins had left the scene, the survivor went in the burnt-down hut, but to his great surprise he found the loot gone: while it was logical the imported items had been lost to the fire, where did the gold go to? It obviously couldn't have been burned, but he saw the assassins leave empty-handed, so where did the gold that was carried into the hut go to, and how had the three assassins appeared inside the hut in the first place? The solution to the impossible appearance of the assassins isn't really surprising nor impressive, and in theory, the impossible disappearance of the gold isn't that interesting either, but the latter mystery and solution however is really well-grounded in the world Koizumi has depicted in this novel: while it might not be really surprising if you are somewhat familiar with the themes and subjects Koizumi is talking about in this book, I'd say he made good use of the historical and cultural background to create this impossible situation.

The mystery behind the men being found with their stomachs cut open/intestines removed isn't always at the forefront of the investigation conducted by Dou and Pei Jing, but it does of course become very relevant in the conclusion, and I'd say that Konrondo is quite impressive in its themes regarding whodunnit and whydunnit: while the 'bare explanation' of why someone was killing all these people and ripping them open might sound a bit silly, Koizumi does a great job at themetically setting up this explanation, and once again it all feels very grounded in his depiction of the culture of Chang'an and its inhabitants' habits and beliefs. There are really clever hints and thematic mirrors throughout the tale and the ironic motive for cutting up the bodies is fantastic: it plays so well with a certain piece of misdirection that is thrown at the reader constantly, but when you realize how that piece of misdirection actually works as a hint too, you start to see that a lot of what makes Konrondo works as a mystery, is it's actually a very straightforward mystery, but set in a world that is not straightforward (seen from the POV of the modern reader). This is definitely one of those mysteries you can't judge based on an isolated look at the main mystery/trick, the core mystery plot only works because of all the talk around it that help set it up. It is a motive that only works in this world, and that is what makes this a very memorable read. The ending by the way adds a more fantastical, almost fairy-tale-like epilogue, a reminder of the direct inspiration of this novel.

Which does remind me, this book definitely takes the opposite position compared to van Gulik's Judge Dee stories when it comes to trying to be an easy read. Whereas van Gulik will always try to present his China in a very accessible manner, avoiding Chinese terms and using simple accessible translations/equivalent words instead, Koizumi constantly drops references to Chinese literature and culture, using the original Chinese terms. Van Gulik's writings might sometimes feel a bit anachronistic because he'll use very English (Dutch) terms to describe certain things, but Koizumi is on the other side of the spectrum, with every other page dropping a certain term, immediately followed by two paragraphs where he will explain that term, and then the very next sentence, he will drop another term, so then he has to explain it again and again... That is another reason why the book does feel rather slow, as Koizumi constantly stops to explain that term he just dropped. Some readers might be more bothered by this than others, so it can't hurt to keep this in mind.

So while a lot of the mystery when taken in isolation isn't really remarkable, Konrondo as a whole is a very memorable story, which uses its historical setting to its fullest to bring a tale of mystery that could only work in this specific time and culture. While at times, the book can feel very slow because it spends so much time just at... explaining things about the time/culture, it's ultimately necessary knowledge to solve the mystery of the serial killings and the disappearance of the gold, and on the whole, I think it's a really well-written novel that feels original due to its seldom-seen setting and the specific themes it touches upon.

Original Japanese title(s):  古泉迦十『崑崙奴』

Bite the Big Apple

I have a pen

I have a pineapple

Pineapple pen!

 「PPAP(ペンパイナッポーアッポーペン」(ピコ太郎)

 

I have a pen

I have a pineapple

Pineapple pen!

"PPAP (Pen Pineapple Pen Apple Pen)" (Pikatarou)

It's been a while since I discussed a television production... 

Pineapple Murder? was a two-part variety program broadcast on September 20 and 27, starring the idol group Chou Tokimeki Sendenbu. It would have never been appeared on my radar, if not for a tweet that appeared after the first episode was broadcast: it noted that in the credits Shirai Tomoyuki was credited for the mystery plot. I don't know if his announcement had been announced beforehand, due to the interesting set-up of the show. In the program, the six members of Chou Tokimeki Sendenbu are invited to a manor, where they will have a small party to eat a deliciously sweet pineapple, prepared especially by the owner of the manor, who loves the fruit. In fact, his house only has one knife: a pineapple knife, used solely to cut a pineapple. The girls are shown the pineapple, which is kept in a special case. But before they get started on the pineapple, the six get an assignment. At the start of the program, they each were given a special item, like a bluetooth speaker, cat ears and balloons. They now have to go each their own way for ten minutes, making cute selfies and short videos of themselves using those items. Ten minutes later, they all gather on the ground floor and move together to the upstairs sitting room, where the pineapple is waiting for them...

Only they only find the remains of the pineapple scattered on the table: someone has eaten it!

It is then revealed the program up until now was just a ruse to fool five of the six Chou Tokimeki Sendenbu members. One of the girls is the culprit, and while everybody was taking videos and selfies, this culprit ate the pineapple by herself. The television program staff members of course all vouch for each other's alibis, making the six Chou Tokimeki Sendenbu members the only suspects. The girls sit around a table and have to find out who the culprit is, but for some reason, the videos they all took seem to show they all have an alibi for the ten-minute period they were alone. How did the culprit manage to devour the pineapple in the sitting room, while securing an alibi?

 

I have to admit I was kinda surprised at the first episode, as the show started showing floorplans of the mansion and showing where everybody was according to their alibis/videos. It was really set-up as a classic mystery story. But after the second episode was broadcast, I noticed a BlueSky post by Abiko who noted how due to certain limitations like for example budget and the fact it's a variety program starring a idol group, the potential Shirai Tomoyuki holds never comes to fruition, and that is certainly true. The mystery plot we see in Pineapple Murder? is decent at best, following familiar tropes and has the culprit use a trick that is not surprisingly original, but it is properly hinted at with visual clues and things like that.

 Only, you wonder: did you really need Shirai Tomoyuki for that? There is basically nothing here that feels distinct to his work, and that's a shame, for Shirai in particular is an author you'd associate with certain ideas. Okay, I was not expecting anything gross from the solution (again, because we have actual idols as the "characters" here), but still, you do expect something grander from Shirai, and within the show's limitations, it must have been nearly impossible to accomplish something typical of his work.

It is a trick like you often see in the Kindaichi Shounen manga, with a crime having happened while everybody seemingly has an alibi, supported by visual evidence and with people moving around in a building and timestamps and everything, but in a Kindaichi Shounen story, it would only be one element in a larger mystery story. Here it is the main trick, and if you've read a few mystery novels, you'll probably get a pretty good idea of what happened early on. The deduction scene of the Chou Tokimeki Sendenbu members is also relatively short, with most of the second episode being dedicated to the initial examination of all the members' alibis (their videos/selfies), leaving little time for the girls to come up with theories about who the culprit truly is. What we have now feels more like a basis for a larger mystery, and therefore ultimately feels lacking in content.

So I don't think Shirai Tomoyuki fans are missing out on something important if they can't manage to see Pineapple Murder?: it's definitely more something fun for fans of Chou Tokimeki Sendenbu, watching cute girls do cute things. For the die-hard fans: I believe there are two (?) special episodes on Hulu that offer more footage/content beyond the television broadcast. One thing though: the way the girls wrap up their deduction is kinda hilarious and you kinda wonder how it could ever end like that in a real mystery novel. 

Original Japanese title(s): 『ぱいなっぷるまだ？』