Gathering Pieces

わりと昔からとめといてたまに読み返す頭んなか

その言葉は言葉にはエコーがついてる

「エコー」（ユニコーン）

I've been saving them up from rather long ago / I sometimes read them again / inside my head

Those words / There's an echo to those words

"Echo" (Unicorn)

If you have ever browsed in the comic department of a bookstore in Japan, you might have come across them: preview booklets. When a publisher decides to push sales for a certain series (for example because there's an anime or live adaptation coming up, or the comic won an award), they'll often work together with bookstores to promote the series. Projects like these often involve little cards placed around the store with comments on the work in question by the bookstore employees themselves, the infamous hiratsumi method of getting attention (putting heaps of the books in question in front of the book cabinet with the cover facing up, instead of putting them inside the cabinets with only their spines visible) and of course preview booklets. These booklets are not meant for readers to take away (and are often chained to the cabinets), but allow perusing customers to read a chapter for free (new comic books are often wrapped in foil in Japan). They are obviously an effective way to introduce new readers to a series and I myself have also bought comics after reading such booklets.

My favorite live action drama of 2016 was Juuhan Shuttai! ("Reprint Ready!"), which was based on a manga about a manga editor and the story behind how a manga is made, from the artist, to the publisher all the way to the bookstore and customer. One of the episodes was about how the marketing department of the publisher decided to promote a series and create preview booklets. I was quite surprised to learn that they actually use overstock of the books to create these preview booklets; they cut out the first chapter from the complete book to create a new booklet, and throw the rest away. It was quite shocking to see they sacrifice whole books to create a smaller book, but I guess it makes more sense than printing extra books before you even know whether the promotion will improve sales.

(If you ever want to learn more about how the manga industry works in Japan, go watch Juuhan Shuttai! or read the manga! It's both fun and informative, especially as it looks at the complete industry, rather than just at the artists or editors)

You don't see these booklets in Japan for 'normal' books (i.e. the non-comic kinds), as reading a comic is a lot easier than reading the first chapter of a novel inside a bookstore, but with the growing popularity of e-books, publishers have been making these kinds of free preview booklets available digitally. Obviously, practical costs are basically nil compared to having to cut out books, repackaging them and sending them off to bookstores, so I expect this practice will grow out to be quite similar to the comic preview booklets.

As I quite enjoyed Aosaki Yuugo's debut book Taiikukan no Satsujin ("The Gymnasium Murder", 2012) some years back, I decided to read the free preview booklet promoting Aosaki. Aosaki Yuugo no Aisatsu ("Greetings from Aosaki Yuugo") consists out of an extended preview of Taiikukan no Satsujin, one complete short story in the same series, as well as an interview with Aosaki and a complete list of his works. As I already read Taiikukan no Satsujin, I will refer to that review if you want to know my feelings on that story. For this review, I'll only focus on the short story included in this booklet, part of Aosaki's short story collection Kazegaoka Juuen Matsuri no Nazo ("The Kazegaoka Ten Yen Festival Mystery", 2014), a book I definitely intend to purchase when the paperback version is released.

Mou Isshoku Eraberu Donburi ("A Rice Bowl Where You Can Choose One Extra Dish") is part of the Urazome Tenma series and is set just a few weeks after Urazome managed to solve the impossible murder in the school gymnasium in Taiikukan no Satsujin. Yuno and a friend are having lunch in the school cafeteria when the lady who runs the place cries out she found a tray with a half-eaten rice bowl outside the cafeteria, hidden beneath a window. Because the cafeteria is so small, students often took their trays outside, but as many students didn't bother to bring the trays back, the cafeteria introduced a fee-system: you had put a 100 yen deposit if you wanted to take your tray outside. But even then some people decided it'd be easier to leave their trays somewhere around school, so one week ago, a new strict rule was announced: if they'd ever find something that hadn't been properly returned to the cafeteria, they wouldn't allow people to take their trays outside at all anymore. Fearing that nobody will be able to eat outside from now on, Yuno convinces Urazome to find out who left that rice bowl outside, in exchange for free meal tickets.

This is the first time I read a short story by Aosaki and I really liked it. The main novels in the Urazome Tenma series are meticulously constructed logic puzzles about murder, but this story was much more in line with an everyday life mystery, as the 'crime' is rather light (leaving a tray and bowl outside). Yet, one shouldn't underestimate the mystery, because Urazome first points out some peculiar traits of the tray (for example, why was the main dish left untouched, while all the rice has been eaten and why wasn't the tray brought back even though it was like three steps away from the drop-off point?). The way Urazome first deduces the physical traits of the 'culprit' and even the motive based on a single, physical clue is very much in line with the Queen school, which is natural, as Aosaki is obviously inspired by Queen's writings (his publisher even goes as far as selling him as "the modern-day Queen"). The solution is wonderfully simple, but oh-so-fitting to the setting. I really enjoyed this story, as it makes a solid (even if short) logic puzzle out of an otherwise very mundane problem.

It's also the first time the Urazome Tenma series really felt like a high school mystery. Sure, the previous books were about school clubs and set at Kazegaoka High School, but still, murder feels far away removed from high school life. A problem at the school cafeteria is much more alluring as a school mystery, in my mind. Now I think about it, it's funny that that other school mystery series I love, Higashigawa Tokuya's Koigakubo Academy Detective Club series, is also often not very 'school'-like. The novels are about murder, like the Urazome Tenma series, and while the short stories are not about murder, they do often feature assault and other 'real crimes'. The atmosphere in both series is similar though, with a lot of high-paced, witty dialogue between the students. Another point is that for once, the Urazaome Tenma series isn't overrun with characters. Seriously, the novels are great puzzle plot mysteries, but Aosaki has a tendency to go overboard with the number of suspects/involved characters, especially as most of them are all students. This short story had a nice, small cast.

As I figured writing a full post on one single short story is rather stretching things, I decided to read another short story by Aosaki. Kami no Mijikaku Natta Shitai ("The Dead Body Whose Hair Was Cut Short") is part of Aosaki's short story collection Knockin' on Locked Door, which is about two detectives sharing an office. Touri Gotenba specializes in impossible mysteries, while his partner Katanashi Hisame is an expert on incomprehensible crimes. This particular story was selected as one of the best Japanese short mystery stories published in the year of 2014 by the Honkaku Mystery Writers Club of Japan, and included in Honkaku Mystery Best 2015. Kami no Mijikaku Natta Shitai starts with a case broker bringing a case for Katanashi, as he has found an incomprehensible murder. The leader of a small theatre troupe was found murdered in a small, soundproof apartment the troupe rented for rehearsal. She was found in the bathroom, wearing only her underwear and for some reason, her long hair had been cut short and been removed from the crime scene. Evidence seems to be pointing towards someone among her three fellow members, but why would anyone want to cut the hair of the deceased?

The problem is similar to that from a certain book originally published in the Kappa Novels line, the characters in this story comment as they investigate the mystery, and indeed, I know exactly which book they mean and it did sound similar at first (I am not linking to the review on purpose, as the characters didn't want to say it out loud either). Yet, Aosaki manages to come up with a completely different solution to the mystery, one that is both original and satisfying. Like with the previous story, this one is very focused on physical clues (the cut-hair of course, but also more), and their interpretation (why is X in a certain state or why was Y used or not used in the first place?), and I have to admit, I usually like these kinds of clues the best (or at least a lot better than psychological clues). I did like Mou Isshoku Eraberu Donburi more than this story though, but that's because I really like the setting and mystery of that one. In terms of surprise, but also clueing, I'd say that Kami no Mijikaku Natta Shitai is a better constructed story.

This is the only story I have read in the Knockin' on Locked Door series, and it does sound interesting, with two detectives specializing in different kind of mysteries, but who do support each other in their respective cases. I might be picking this up (again, if a paperback version is released. I don't have the money, nor the space to buy hardcovers all the time).

It's been rather chaotic post, about preview booklets and two unrelated short stories by Aosaki, but my concusions are: preview books are good. Aosaki writes good short stories. Paperback releases should be released faster. Yep, that's about it.

Original Japanese title(s): 青崎有吾 『青崎有吾の挨拶』 / 「髪の短くなった死体」

Blue Air Message

上空　舞うもの達と Over Drive

どこまでも青い世界にいたい

紙吹雪のように鳥が舞う　キレイね

 『Over Drive』（Garnet Crow）

In Over Drive with those dancing high in the sky

I want to be surrounded by a world of blue

The birds are fluttering around like confetti, how pretty

"Over Drive" (Garnet Crow)

I don't fly that often, but only once have I experienced the "Is there a doctor on the plane?" myself. There were none present, by the way (or least nobody said they were).

C. Daly King's Obelist Fly High (1935) starts with a visit by Dr. Cutter to the New York City Police, as he has received an alarming letter, stating: "YOU WILL DIE APRIL THIRTEENTH AT NOON EXACTLY CENTRAL TIME". The death threat is especially dangerous, because Dr. Cutter happens the only surgeon on American soil at the moment who can perform a certain life-saving operation, and luck has it the Secretary of State, who is also his own brother, is in desperate need of that very procedure right now. Captain Michael Lord is given the mission to travel  together with Dr. Cutter and his entourage (his nieces and assistent) in their trip from New York to Reno and protect the doctor from harm. After some diversionary tactics plotted by Lord, the Cutter entourage makes it safely into a plane heading for Reno (with stops in between). However, on April thirteenth, at noon (Central Time), Dr. Cutter does indeed drop dead from his seat. Who could've committed the murder on the small plane?

Like many people in today's world, I too have to think a lot of time zones and stuff while working, but as I live in a country with just one time zone, I do have to admit I had never thought of having to specify a time zone in a murder announcement (within one country).

First time I read something by Daly King actually. I'll leave the details about him as a writer to other writers (the internet is a wonderful thing), because let's be honest, considering I know next to nothing about him, I'd be simply copying from other writers. Anyway, I first learned of this book while I was reading up on Ayukawa Tetsuya, a Japanese writer who wrote a lot of (great!) alibi-cracking mysteries and mysteries set on trains (transport). With novels like Obelists at Sea and Obelists Fly High, it appeared Daly King would very likely be a writer who could interest me, so I picked up the first easily available release.

Overall, I think Obelists Fly High is an entertaining mystery novel, but one that has some obvious flaws. First of all, this story is probably much longer than it should've been, because it drags quite a lot from the midsection on. There is only one murder in this novel, and it's also mostly set inside a small plane (they do have to change planes a couple of times), so everything feels incredibly cramped, both in terms of 'space for the characters to move in' as well as the focus of the story. Over the course of the story, we'll see several characters propose theories as to the how and who of the murder, but these theories are not like those you'll see in a Berkeley novel, or something like the theories in Kyomu he no Kumotsu. The theories are incredibly simple, and mostly driven by psychology rather than a logical analysis of the cirumstances, so they don't really feel satisfying. They're really nothing but conjecture, with nothing to prove or disprove them.

Speaking of that, it appears Daly King was a psychologist, so that would explain the emphasis on psychology in the story, though I am not sure whether I can call his usage of it in this book a success. On a side note, this book has some very old-fashioned views on topics like homosexuality, presented through the mouth of protagonist Captain Lord, and I am not sure whether they're "character traits", or more likely seeing how it's presented here, Daly King's personal views. But when you have characters discussing theories about who the murderer is based on 'the perverted psychology of homosexuality'... It's tiring to read, especially as I already noted that these theories hinge on little less than these psychological analyses..

A fair amount of the story is taken up by a very detailed examination in the alibis of all the people on the plane. Let me confess right away that I had to think back to Aosaki Yuugo's Suizokukan no Satsujin right away, which revolved around the alibis of 11(!) suspects. I really didn't like it there and I still didn't like it in Obelists Fly High. It's too detailed, too many time stamps that say too little. Ayakawa Tetsuya has also written novels that revolve around the whereabouts of persons/objects down to the minute (Kuroi Trunk, Doukeshi no Ori amongst others), but they were about the movements of ONE person/object at a time. In Obelists Fly High, you have more than ten persons to keep track off, with some persons vouching for other persons' alibis at set times. I just lose interest with all these interlinked alibis. The final resolution of this alibi part is also ridiculously simple and should not have needed a set-up like this.

The book does have an interesting structure, starting with the epilogue, and ending with the prologue. The final solution presented is... I think supposed to be very surprising, except for the fact it is not. I think the premise behind the solution is great though, and I think it's the best part of the book, but it is also so obvious because of the way the narrative tries to cast as little suspicion as possible in that direction, almost conspiciously so. The way it was done, would also demand for some of the characters in this story to act as stupidly as possible. Seriously, Captain Lord is horrible as a detective character. The things he does are idiotic at times, and not in the hahahaha-Roger-Sheringham-oh-you-silly-fop way, but oh-my-god-why-would-you-even way (seriously,  what eventually happens in that plane is all his fault). In fact, he even creates a kind of plot mistake through his actions. Seriously, the plot as presented in Obelists Fly High contains a rather fatal mistake and it's all Lord's fault (though one could "explain" it by saying that shows how bad a detective Lord is).

I did like the Clue Finder at the end of the book a lot. It's a list of all the hints contained in the text, complete with page and line reference, all sorted by category (clues to how, who, motive etc.). It's a great, and daring way to 'prove' a story is fair to the reader, and it's actually quite fun as a reader to see how many of the hints you picked up. This is not a Queen story though, so a lot of the clues are more psychological (of course), than physical or based on logic.

Which reminds me, there is a moment in the book where Captain Lord declares he knows who the murderer is, similar to the moment right before Queen or other writers would insert a Challenge to the Reader. The thing is: there is no reason for that moment to happen then. In Arisugawa's works for example, such Challenges always follow after the introduction of the final, decisive clue. So the detective character couldn't solve the crime until they got posssession of that particular clue. That is a logical structure. In Obelists Fly High, Captain Lord is sitting on the same clues for a while, when he suddenly figures out what happens, without any stimulus for why then, and not earlier. It's really weird, because narrative-wise, there is no reason why he couldn't have figured it out earlier.

Like Berkeley's work, Obelists Fly High does obviously takes some cues from the anti-mystery, that use the form of a mystery novel to criticize the possibilities and tropes of the genre itself (for example, seeing Captain Lord basically screwing up in a lot of ways even though he probably means well). It works quite well in this novel actually, and is one of the reasons why I did have a good feeling about this book on the whole.

As I'm lining up my ideas on this book, you might think I might not have liked Obelists Fly High, but despite the annoyances I named, I really did enjoy the book overall. I think a lot of the ideas in the book are really sound, and even if they weren't all great in terms of execution, in the end, if you were to ask me yay or nay with a pistol pointed at me inside a flying plane, I'd say yay (there are of course many examples where a botched idea ends up in a complete failure). I for one am quite curious to other novels by C. Daly King. 

Recall THE END

あの日少年の君が大人びてみえて

さよならも言えず傘に隠れた

すれ違いもしも・・・なんてことを

時に忘れ咲き

「忘れ咲き」（Garnet Crow）

You were still a boy that day, even though you looked grown up

Hiding behind your umbrella unable to say goodbye

As we passed by each other... What if... sometimes these memories

start blooming again

"Blooming Late" (Garnet Crow)

The twenty-first theatrical release of Detective Conan, The Crimson Love Letter, has been released in Japan already, but like previous years, I won’t be able to see it until the home-video release much later this year (probably somewhere between late October ~ early December). This year’s film is penned by Ookura Takahiro, a mystery author who has also written two episodes for the animated TV series of Conan (one of them being a companion episode to the film). I’m quite interested to see how the film will turn out, especially after the overly action-oriented instalment of last year (which I did enjoy though). But for now, I’ll just have to do with the latest volume of the manga.

Volume 92 of Detective Conan (released in April 2017) opens with the conclusion to The Message In The Fitting Room, which started in the previous volume. Ran, Sonoko and Sera are out shopping for beachwear in the mall when a murder is discovered inside a clothing boutique: one of the customers has been strangled to death inside the fitting room. The only clues are a mysterious sign the victim left with her fingers, and the fact an unknown user of the stall next to the victim (identified by her white sandals) has disappeared from the boutique. This story is by no means a memorable story, and mainly serves as an introduction for the next story. The dying message left by the victim is based on an interesting cultural difference which I think is certainly not an unknown fact, so it avoids the trap of feeling like a story based on obscure trivia. The story also makes use of an object I knew absolutely nothing about, but which is probably common knowledge for those of the opposite sex, as the story itself points out, and I thought it was pretty clever how it was used in several ways. Not only is it a crucial part of how the murder was committed, it also serves as a further justification to set this story in a clothing boutique, instead of any other place with dressing rooms/stalls. But to be honest, The Message In The Fitting Room’s true meaning lies somewhere else. Ever since the introduction of Sera Masumi in volume 73 (2011), our female high school student detective has shown an unusual interest in Conan and has hinted throughout that she knew Conan from somewhere. We were also made aware of her family ties to several other major characters in the Conan-verse, especially her two brothers. Conan never could recall where he might’ve met Sera before, but in The Message In The Fitting Room, Sera intentionally jogs Conan’s memory by trying out a bathing suit with a familiar look and the waves of memories finally reaches the shore of Conan's mind.

Memories of the Waves is set ten years in the past, long before Kudou Shinichi was turned into a child detective, and even before he had honed his deduction skills to the fullest. It’s a day out at the beach for six-year old Shinichi and childhood friend Ran (accompanied by Shinichi’s mother). All the people on the beach are shocked when they become witness of a car crashing off a cliff, diving deep into the sea. The first to move is a young man with a sharp look in his eye, who manages to get the driver out of the car, even if it is already too late for him. Based on the bag filled with new watches in the car, the mysterious young man deduces that the victim had just robbed a watch shop, and judging from the open window of the passenger’s seat, our hero also surmises that an accomplice managed to escape the car before he dove down to it. With the help of his younger sister Masumi and her two new friends Shinichi and Ran, he quickly manages to identify three men and women who might possibly be the accomplice, trying to escape from the beach and the police. But are there enough clues to find out which of the three is the real robber?

Of course there are, or else it wouldn’t be Detective Conan. Memories of the Waves takes the form of the familiar which-of-the-three set-up so often used in this series. I did really like this one though: it is certainly not a complex story (these which-of-the-three ones seldom are), but the main hint is brilliant: not only does it makes very good use of the visual medium, there’s wonderful synergy with the other underlying parts of the mystery. A mystery story often consist out of several elements, which don’t always need to have synergy. To take the previous story: the dying message and the sandal clue in The Message In The Fitting Room are two separate strands of clues,  two entities that exist because of different reasons, and point at the murderer from different angles. Memories of the Waves on the other hand has several clues pointing at the robber, but these work even better taken together, because they are interconnected. Clue A exists and is valid, also because of the existence of clue B and vice versa. Both The Message In The Fitting Room and Memories of the Waves are basically which-of-the-three stories, but the synergy is really what sets the latter high above the former.

Well, that and the fact Memories of the Waves gives answers to questions which readers have been asking about ever since Sera’s introduction in volume 73, especially concerning her family (which she hinted about a lot) and her connection to Conan. While it is a short story, it manages to give a wealth of background information about her and the rest of her family, the most important member being her eldest brother Akai Shuuichi, who has been a major character in the series for ages. Family ties that had only been hinted at are now clearly revealed, which have their own set of implications. During these scenes of interaction between a younger Masumi, her two Shuu brothers and her mother, we are not only given a fresh look at some characters in a way we had never seen, we are also given much more insight in what drives the Akai family, and why the individual members are all acting the way they are acting in the present. This story is therefore an important stepping stone in further developing the story.

We are brought back to everyday life in The Whereabouts of the Horse Stubs: a chance winning at the horse races has Kogorou bringing Ran and Conan to a sushi restaurant. There they meet with the new cook Wakita, an elderly man with buck teeth and an eye-patch. The eye-patch puts Conan on guard, as he has been aware for quite some time now that the number two of the Black Organization, code-named RUM, is planning something, and the one clue Conan has to RUM’s identity is that they have a fake eye. Wakita claims to be a fan of mystery fiction and is also very interested in Kogorou’s exploits as a detective, which worries Conan, but those worries are forgotten for a while when a woman barges in the restaurant and retrieves her handbag from the toilet. The woman claims a pickpocket got her bag with a winning horse stub, but she managed to find her bag through the tracking application on her phone. The fact the bag was hidden in the toilet means the thief must have entered it, and none of the customers have left in the meantime, meaning one of the three customers besides Conan’s party must be the thief. Cook Wakita challenges Kogorou in a detective face-off, hoping to see Kogorou’s brains in action. And yes, this is another which-of-the-three story. The main clue is… I’m not sure it’s completely fair. I figured it out, but I truly doubt the knowledge needed to figure that clue out is common knowledge. Perhaps in Japan. That said, the setting of a sushi restaurant is absolutely perfect for this trick and it even includes a nice false solution. So not a bad story, but your enjoyment can vary depending on how ‘fair’ you’d consider it.

The Truth Behind the Fair Hand is the last complete story in the volume, and shows us more of the new assistant teacher Wakasa in Conan’s class (who was introduced in the previous volume). Conan and the other Detective Boys are visiting their teacher in her own apartment room, because she needs their help repainting a stage play background she had accidently covered with paint. Her neighbour is a professional golfer who has recently won his first title. Loud noises bring the Detective Boys and their teacher to his apartment, and they find two figures lying on the ground: the pro golfer has been knocked out, but his girlfriend has been murdered. Two Polaroid pictures are left on the crime scene, showing the unconscious golfer and his dead girlfriend lying on the floor, and a woman’s hand reaching out to write “Love You ♡” on the golfer’s cheek with lipstick. The police conclude that a stalker might’ve killed the girlfriend out of jealousy, but Conan suspects something fishy is going on. The trick behind the Polaroid pictures is ridiculously simple, but I still liked the story for several reasons. Not only does the story flesh out the mysterious teacher Wakasa more between the mystery plot scenes (the reader knows there’s much more behind her than just her clumsy teacher façade), the story is also very contemporary, going into the topic of selfies and ‘fake girlfriend pictures’ (which are, as Haibara explains early in the story, fake selfies taken by men to that make it seem like they’re with a girlfriend). Mystery fiction (in all media) don’t always use these contemporary social and technological developments up to their fullest potential, but Detective Conan usually makes good use of these trends to come up with stories that truly feel like modern stories (of course, they’ll feel outdated in twenty years, but it’s great reading them now). An argument can be made to make detective fiction feel as timeless as possible, but I feel that that mystery stories that make good use of the latest trends deserve a worthy place.

Volume 92 ends with the first chapter of Three Detectives and Hyakunin Isshu, which has Conan, Kansai-bred high school student detective Hattori and the mysterious secret agent/Poirot employee Amuro hanging out at the restaurant Poirot when a murder happens there during a blackout. As this is just the first chapter, there’s little to say about it, except for the fact that I think this is the first story where Hattori and Amuro actually meet. Oh, and Hyakunin Isshu is also a theme in Detective Conan: The Crimsom Love Letter, but like I mentioned at the startof this post, I won't be able to see that until much later this year.

None of the stories included in Detective Conan 92 are really complex as mystery stories (and not all of them are even murders), but nonetheless, I really enjoyed this volume. Most of the stories are constructed very well despite the simple plots behind them, and they really shine in the department of synergy: author Aoyama is not only telling a standalone mystery tale, he also interweaves those separate plots with his own grander story and his characters. Memories of the Waves is not only a well-constructed tale of detection, it also fleshes out several characters, revealing new truths and having implications for future instalments. The Whereabouts of the Horse Stubs is not only a fairly entertaining tale set in a sushi restaurant, it is also heavily connected with the RUM sub-story plot as it introduces a new one-eyed character who will no doubt return in future volumes. Even a simple story like The Truth Behind the Fair Hand serves as a tool to reveal more about assistant teacher Wakasa, whose role in the story is still not clear. There’s not a lot actually happening in Detective Conan 92, but Aoyama is clearly setting things up for future developments and the anticipation, the tension can be felt throughout this volume.

The next volume will be released in July already, a month earlier than the usual schedule. Oh, and July will feature the release of volume 5 of Magic Kaito, the series where the popular character Kaitou KID originates from (most people know him from his numerous guest appearances in Conan, but he's actually an older character). It’s been ten! years since the last volume, so I’m really looking forward to it! I’ll probably review that one too when the time comes.

Original Japanese title(s): 青山剛昌　『名探偵コナン』第92巻

Daydreamin'

日本の未来は（Wow×４） 

世界がうらやむ（Yeah×４）

「Love Machine」（モーニング娘。）

The future of Japan (Wow x 4)

Will make the world jealous (Yeah x 4)

"Love Machine" (Morning Musume)

I had to think of Huis Ten Bosch while reading this book. It's always weird to see how 'outsiders' (people from other countries) view your own country.

Sam's stepmother Kazumi had only been part of his life for a short period, until a tragic traffic accident ended her life, but she had always remained a big influence on his life, sparking an interest in Kazumi's home country of Japan and its culture. Many years later, Sam finally hit a stop in his life, and he decides now might be the time to move to the country of his dreams. A letter to his stepuncle is answered with warm words of welcome, so Sam takes on his mother's family name, and makes the cross to Japan as Tokyo Sam. Arriving in Kannon City, a harbor city known for its gigantic statue of the Bodhisattva Kannon (which also serves as a lighthouse), Sam learns that while he might know a lot about Japan from his studies in the States, there are still many mysteries to be uncovered about the Japanese culture and its people. Yamaguchi Masaya's Nihon Satsujin Jiken ("The Japan Murder Case", 1998) chronicles three of Tokyo Sam's adventures.

The book starts with an introduction saying that author Yamaguchi discovered the original The Japan Murder Case novel in a second hand store and that the work made an impression on him. The book was set in Japan, but it was a very weird Japan, as it was written by "Samuel Heart", an American who got all his knowledge on Japan from books and stuff, but who had never visited the country itself. It was a Japan as envisioned by someone who simply threw all the 'cool Japanese stuff he knew' together, with a good dash of misunderstandings about the culture. For example, the book was set in modern times, but there were still samurai walking around, and everybody had weird names like Tokyo. Nihon Satsujin Jiken is supposed to be the Japanese translation of the book.

Okay, of course, this tale about Heart and The Japan Murder Case is just a framing device, but it's a fun one! It's basically making fun of how people outside Japan see Japanese culture, with people constantly spouting haiku, or talking about zen and samurai spirit. The book is set in a distinctly Orientalist portrayal of Japan, but it does that on purpose, which makes it quite hilarious at time. I have read other books which do the Orientalist angle seriously, so Nihon Satsujin Jiken was certainly recognizable.

The book starts with Bishou to Shi to ("With A Smile and Death"), which is about Tokyo Sam's trip to Japan and his first few days in Kannon City. During his boat trip from Tokyo to Kannon City, Sam became acquainted with a family of three. Later, Sam discovers that this family was staying in the same Traditional Japanese Inn, but tragedy had already struck by then: the father had commited harakiri (ritualistic suicide) to atone for the sin of offending his boss Lippert, but also to make his boss promise he wouldn't lay off the employees at the branch he managed. The harakiri ritual was held in the room at the inn, and people saw Lippert leaving the inn with the head (in a box). Lippert however disappears in the night, with the head. Sam however deduces something else happened and while the solution is not super surprising, this story is fairly well hinted, and what's more important, it actually makes great use of the setting.

The exaggeration of "Japanese Culture" in this novel isn't just for shows, it's actually an integral part of the plot. The theme of harakiri and the concept of honor is very idealistic, but it is used as a proper clue. In a way, Bishou to Shi to, like the whole book actually, is like one of those fantasy mystery novels I like so much, where you have supernatural settings that still work perfectly as fair-play mysteries, because the rules are clearly defined. Here too, everything is kinda set in a 'fantasy' setting (a highly romanticized Japan).

The wabi in Wabi no Misshitsu ("The Locked Room of Wabi") refers to the Japanese concept of 'seeing beauty in sorrow and sadness'. Tokyo Sam is invited to attend to a traditional tea ceremony. The person presiding the ceremony is in heavy struggle with his fellow disciple to inherit the clan name and tension can be felt throughout the ceremony. After the ceremony, Sam and his companion Ekubo remember they left something in the ceremony room, but find it locked from the inside. They eventually break the door open, and find the ceremony master dead, stabbed in his back. The room was locked from the inside, so how could this have happened? This story is a bit disappointing. The final solution is rather elementary, and even features elements that simply couldn't have happened. What sorta saves this story are the fake solutions Tokyo Sam and Ekubo think off: some of these 'fake' solutions would've been great real solutions actually. This story is also heavily steeped in (exaggerated) Japanese Culture, but overall not as satisfying as a mystery story compared to the first one.

Tokyo Sam visits Kuruwa Island, an island dedicated to providing adult entertainment in Fushigi no Kuni no Arinsu ("Arinsu in Wonderland"). He gets acquainted with Arisugawa, one of the more popular oiran (courtesans) in the district. The next morning, Tokyo Sam awakes to find his clothes gone and Arisugawa murdered in the room next to his. Her arms were cut off, and a folding screen had been laid down on her back, as if to make her look like a bird. Sam is suspected of murdering Arisugawa, but he manages to escape thanks to Ekubo, and tries to find out who killed Arisugawa during his sleep and why. This is the longest story in the book by far, and contains some interesting portrayals of the oiran culture, as well as some musing on the Japanese ideals of "beauty". Overall, my feelings about this story mirror those I have for Wabi no Misshitsu: the fake solutions were more entertaining than the actual solution. Though I have to say that the final solution in this story is actually quite decent, it's only not as a 'fancy' as the fake ones. It's also an awfully long story, more so than actually necessary. The book ends with a short chapter titled Namu Kanzeon Bosatsu ("Hail The Bodhisattva Kannon"), whch is not a mystery story, but more like an epilogue (even if it's titled "final chapter")

I know Yamaguchi Masaya mostly from his Ikeru Shikabane no Shi ("The Death of the Living Dead"), which was an excellent mystery story about zombies coming back to life. The zombie-angle was obviously a supernatural one, but by making use of this unique, but clearly definied setting with specific rules, this book turned out to be one of the better logic-based novels I've ever read. Nihon Satsujin Jiken never reaches the heights of Yamaguchi's debut novel, but it's definitely entertaining througout with its humorous portrayal of Japan As See By The Outsider, and the plots do make use of this somewhat fantasy-like settin (by the way, the other thing I know Yamaguchi from is the PSX game Cat the Ripper, which is batshit crazy).

So overall, I'd say that Nihon Satsujin Jiken is definitely an amusing mystery novel, that can be especially entertaining if you have an interest in Japanese culture. It takes elements from Japanese culture to the extreme, but it's not only for show, as the setitng is closely related to the mystery. There is a sequel to this book, and while this bookw as not bad, I do hope that the second book manages to get closer to the level of Ikeru Shikabane no Shi.

Original Japanese title(s): 山口雅也 『日本殺人事件』：　「第一話　微笑と死と」 / 「第二話　侘の密室」 / 「第三話　不思議の国のアリンス」 / 「終幕　南無観世音菩薩」

The Private Eyes' Requiem

ゆるぎないものひとつだきしめたいよ

誰もがそれを笑ったとしても

「ゆりぎないものひとつ」

I want to embrace one thing I can keep counting on

Even if everybody laughed at that

"One Unwavering Thing"

Man, I don't even look for them, but I'm pretty sure I read at least one Holmes pastische every year. Oh well, this is technically a Lupin pastiche... Oh, and I didn't manage to add even a fair amount of the tags at the end of the post, because of limitations on the number of characters. Please use the links in the body of the text if necessary.

Shinsetsu Lupin tai Holmes ("The True Tale: Lupin VS Holmes", 2000) is a short story collection by Ashibe Taku, crammed full with pastiches featuring famous detectives from both East and West. It's the first volume in a series dubbed The Exhibition of Great Detectives, and I already reviewed the second volume last November. This first volume is, in the essence, the same as its sequel. The stories often feature several famous literary characters together (like the titular Lupin and Holmes) in a story that is expertly written in the style of the original works. Most of these stories also feature an impossible crime. The opening story for example, Shinsetsu Lupin tai Holmes ("The True Tale: Lupin VS Holmes"), has gentleman-thief Lupin revealing the true story of his meeting with Sherlock Holmes. In the prologue, Lupin reveals that the adventures as written in 1908's Arsène Lupin contre Herlock Sholmès were made-up, as shown by the fake Holmes name. The true meeting between the French thief and the English detective happened in 1900 during the Paris World Fair, when Lupin had only started making a name for himself. Lupin succeeds with a daring theft of a necklace from a Japanese theater troupe, but then a priceless Buddha statue is stolen from the Maison du Japon under impossible circumstances, followed by disappearing film reels with footage made in Japan. Lupin is accused of anti-Japanese sentiments and Holmes is hired by the Lumière brothers to retrieve the films. And so both Holmes and Lupin try to figure out the truth behind the disappearing Buddha statue and the true culprit behind this series of thefts.

This opening story does really read like a Lupin serial, with a dynamic story and a focus on adventure. The impossible disappearance of the Buddha statue is not incredibly surprising, but it does impress as it's firmly set in "reality", with a basis in actual history. This holds for all these pastiches actually, but especially this story is great in mixing fiction with real history. The Paris World Fair and the Lumière brothers are just some of the real world elements mixed with the Lupin-Holmes narrative, and the way it's used is actually fairly natural. There's even a guest appearance of that one Japanese author who ALWAYS gets to meet Holmes in pastiches like these. Unlike Arsène Lupin contre Herlock Sholmès, the confrontation between the two giants feels a bit more fair too. The motive behind the crimes is rather surprising though.

Taikun Satsujin Jiken ("The Tycoon Murder Case"), which also carries the subtitle The Polish Paste Mystery, is the second story in the volume, and as "Tycoon" has six letters in it, and it's followed by "Murder Case", you can safely guess it's a Philo Vance story. Prosecutor Markham asks dilettante detective Vance and his attorney Van Dine to accompany him to the murder scene of a publisher of pulp magazines. He's been offed of, as they say, in the apartment of his star writer Ramon F. Kimmel. The victim left a dying message fingering Kimmel, but the problem is that there are three Kimmels: three ghost writers published under the pen name of Ramon F. Kimmel under the guidance of the victim. The testimony of a neighbor based on a radio performance appears to be decisive clue for this mystery, but probably not in the way Markham had expected. This story reminds of me of the episode The Adventure of the Comic Book Crusader from the Ellery Queen TV show, in the sense that it deals with pulp publishers and the men behind a collective name. The solution to the mystery is good, with a clever, hard-to-notice clue and a lot of focus on material evidence. The writing style of this pastiche is also very reminiscent of Van Dine (including the end notes!) and the story also features multiple guest appearances of other famous detectives (one of them is rather obvious based on the subtitle, I think). 

Hotel Mikado no Satsujin ("The Hotel Mikado Murder") is set in San Francisco. Hawaiian police detective Charlie Chan's stay in Hotel Mikado, a Japanese-run hotel, ends up in murder when a gunshot rings through the hotel.  A highly ranked military official staying secretly at the hotel is discovered inside his room, apparently having committed ritual suicide with a sword. Inside his room is also the corpse of a mysterious woman. Private eye Sam Spade also arrives at the scene, as he had been hired by the first victim for a certain job. But the case is revealed to be very different from what it appears to be by a mysterious Japanese boy working at the hotel. The motive behind this crime has similarities with that one featured in the first story. The mystery itself is okay, but the real 'surprise' is the other detective who makes a surprise appearance. At least, I think a lot of readers familiar with Japanese mystery fiction will correctly guess who that is, as the reference is rather obvious, but I did like how the story built towards revealing the fact.

Tasogare no Kaijintachi ("The Fiends of Twilight") is a straightforward Edogawa Rampo pastiche, where the Fiend with Twenty Faces is accuses of murder after the theft of a sword. Akechi Kogorou however beliefs the Fiend when he swears he does not take lives and the detective agrees to find out who else could've committed the murder inside a closed-off part of town, where only the victim and the Fiend were found. There are some interesting Rampo cameos here, but the solution behind the impossible crime (a murder in a place where only the victim and the Fiend were) is a bit childish. Though I guess it works for this pastiche, because it's based on a series for children.

Tadokoro Keibu ni Hanataba wo ("A Bouquet for Chief Inspector Tadokoro") puts Chief Inspector Tadokoro in the spotlight. Chief Inspector Tadoroko is a character who connects the worlds of Chief Inspector Onitsura and amateur detective Hoshikage Ryuuzou, both creations by Ayukawa Tetsuya. Tadokoro is the one character who has worked with both these men, and he tells his public an amusing tale about how the two detectives both had trouble solving a crime: Chief Inspector Onitsura had no idea what to make of a locked room murder (the specialty of Hoshikage), while Hoshikage Ryuuzou was paining his head about an alibi trick using the railway (the specialty of Onitsura). The solution to both problems is a bit simple, but as a story that gives a minor character a moment to shine, I'd say this story is one of the best in the volume. I really enjoyed this one.

The following two stories I didn't find particularly interesting. Nanatsu no Kokoro wo Motsu Tantei ("The Detective With Seven Minds") is not a pastiche of any characer in particular, but one of styles. The narrator is called to come over to a crime scene, and then the narration style changes constantly, from 'hardboiled detective narration' to 'dilettante amateur detective narration' and 'experienced cop narration' etcetera. The story is simple, and mostly serves as a theme for this showcase of styles, and it basically is all written to prepare for the punchline. Kidan Kuuchuu no Zoku ("A Detective Story: The Thief in the Sky") is a detective story written in the style of Kuroiwa Ruikou. The writing style is really old, which makes it hard to read (pre-war Japanese) spelling and the whole story is presented as an adaptation/translation of an existing, Western story (most of Kuroiwa's works are 'free' adaptations of Western crime fiction).

Hyakurokujuunen no Misshitsu - Shin Morgue Gai no Satsujin (The 160 year Old Locked Room - New Murders in the Rue Morgue") finally features Ashibe's own series detective Morie Shunsaku, who is asked by a mysterious figure to solve a locked room murder involving a mother and her daughter who were killed in the most brutal way. And yes, we're talking about Edgar Allan Poe's The Murders in the Rue Morgue. Whereas previous stories mimicked the style of the original works, this story is more like meta-mystery, as Morie examines the original text and arrives at a new solution to the classic tale. The biggest surprise however is the identity of his client though.

Shinsetsu Lupin tai Holmes is on the whole an entertaining collection of pastiches. Ashibe is usually at his best when he can let his bibliophilic urges go free. He mixes real history with fictional history in an engaging way, and showcases great knowledge about the subject matter, as he manages to mix in all kinds of little trivia about the characters in his stories which are all written in distinctive, recognizable styles. The stories can sometimes feel a bit gimmicky though, because a lot of the charm of these stories basically comes down to 'fanboying'. I'd say the opening story, the Philo Vance and the Ayukawa Tetsuya stories were the highlights of this collection.

Original Japanese title(s): 芦辺拓　『真説ルパン対ホームズ』: 「真説ルパン対ホームズ」 / 「大君殺人事件　またはポーランド鉛硝子の謎」 / 「《ホテル・ミカド》の殺人」 / 「黄昏の怪人たち」 / 「田所警部に花束を」 / 「七つの心を持つ探偵」 / 「探偵奇談　空中の賊」 / 「百六十年の密室　新・モルグ街の殺人」

Black Wind

涙を隠した昨日に

遠い思い出 と今なら言える　

風のラララ

「風のラララ」（倉木麻衣）

And the past days where I hid my tears

Now I can say they are a distant memory

It's the wind's lalala...

"The Wind's Lalala" (Kuraki Mai)

Ayukawa Tetsuya was a highly influential writer of puzzle plot mysteries in post-war Japan. He was especially a prolific writer of stories featuring impossible crimes of a very specific kind. Whereas most people would instantly think of locked room murders, Ayukawa instead focused on the alibi deconstruction story: stories where the culprit has an unbreakable alibi, making it impossible for them to have committed the murder, even though it seems quite clear it was them. In the past, I have reviewed books like Kuroi Hakuchou and Tsumiki no Tou for example, which I really enjoyed. Ayukawa was also an important editor by the way connected to the publisher Tokyo Sogensha by the way, and writers like Arisugawa Alice and Ashibe Taku made their debuts thanks to awards connected to Ayukawa.

Warui Kaze ("An Ill Wind", 2007) is a short story collection by Ayukawa Tetsuya featuring stories originally published in the period between 1951 and 1975. The stories all feature Ayukawa's most famous detective character: Chief Inspector Onitsura of the Metropotan Police Department. Interesting is that even though Inspector Onitsura is the series character, he is seldom at the centre of the story. Warui Kaze for example features a couple of inverted stories (which obviously have the murderer in the center), where the inspector is only mentioned by title, never by name. But even the stories that do follow the police seldom show us the man: you're more likely to see several of his subordinates doing their job diligently, with Onitsura leading the investigation from his desk. He sometimes doesn't even appear for the finale for the story, leaving thaｔ job to his subordinates too. There have been some TV productions based on the Inspector Onitsura series, but I wonder whether he's as absent there too.

Etude in Blue (1956) starts with a scene where the director of a small company and his mistress comment on how their situation resembles the thriller movie they just saw. In the film, the director of a small company and his mistresss plotted together to kill the wife. And that's exactly what they are going to do too. The plan is to provide the director with a perfect alibi during the time of the murder, by making it appear his current girlfriend and intended victim (his secretary) was in a completely different place during the murder. The plan goes without a hitch, the conspirators think, but the police is eerily quick to catch on... As an inverted story, this is a decent, but not particularly memorable story. Like in Columbo, there is of course a major mistake left unnoticed by the murderer, which sets the inspector on their trail (a theme which is true for basically all stories in this collection). In this case, the mistake itself is a good one, and it's normal the inspector would continue his investigation from there, but there's still quite a jump between that point, and him finding out all the others details of the crime. Because this is an inverted story, we obviously don't get to see the police checking up on all the details of the case (as we already saw that from the murderer's point of view) and Onitsura explaining everything again would be repeating, but I guess a more logical structure to how Onitsura's explanation would've been better, as now he starts pointing out the things the murderer did to create his alibi, but then ends up with pointing out that mistake, which on its own does not connect to the rest of Onitsura's story.

Warui Kaze ("An Ill Wind"), Itai Kaze ("A Painful Wind") and Satsui no Esa ("Bait for Murderous Intent") are three very short inverted stories. Warui Kaze, which lends its title to the collection, is about a dentist, who happens to be visited by the man who drive his daughter to suicide. Murder ensues. The dentist comes up with a plan to create a fake alibi, but the scheme basically breaks through sheer bad luck, and it's not even possible for the reader to have foreseen that. In Itai Kaze, a husband discovers his Russian wife has been cheating him with a younger man, and the husband plots to kill the man, and make it seem his wife did it. While it is a short story and basically hinges on one single mistake, the plotting of the fatal mistake in question is actually quite smartly done, and I enjoyed this story. Satsui no Esai has a young man with a bright future plotting to kill his lover. He originally had not planned to kill her, but prospects of a marriage with a wealthy heir soon turned his feelings of love into murderous intent. The plan is to make it seem like she committed suicide on her own, but he makes one little mistake that turns everything upside down. And that's it, actually. It's really a small mistake that upsets his scheme, but rather than being impressed by how ingeneous it was, I was more thinking along the lines of "Yeah, of course he's going to forget that, it's really a small thing that very few people would think of". With stories like these, you want the police to point out a mistake that seems so stupid in hindsight, not one that seems genuinely unnoticable.

In Yoru no Houmonsha ("A Nightly Visitor"), a private detective is asked by a woman to prove the innocence of her deceased husband. A former lover who had been basically stalking him had been murdered on the night her husband died in a traffic accident. Police investigation showed that he had indeed been in the neigborhood of the crime scene, and as the other suspect has a perfect alibi and dead men tell no tales, they decide the deceased man was the murderer. The basic idea behind the alibi trick is fairly simple, and is actually seen in several of the other stories in this collection, though I did like one important part of the alibi trick, concerning a delivery from a Chinese restaurant. The way the police figure out this part of the alibi is suspect is fairly mundane, but also realistic and I could really clearly imagine how the scene'd go. 

MF Keikaku ("The MF Plan") is the plan one side of a manzai comedy duo gave to his scheme to kill his partner. Even though his partner is the reason they're not doing very well as a comedy duo, his partner refuses to break up with him, and even threatens to reveal hidden skeletons to the police if pushed. The plan is to make it appear his partner was already dead in his apartment while he himself still out of town. The fatal mistake in this inverted story is on one hand very simple: you're likely to come across it one of those solve-it-yourself mystery quiz books for children. On the other hand, the way it's hidden in the narrative is smart.

Madara no Inu ("The Speckled Dog") is by far the longest story in the collection, taking up about a quarter of the pages on its own. A female office worker receives a box of bonbons at her work. Figuring it might be from one of the many admirers she has, she puts on in her mouth, and finds out the hard way that the bonbons are filled with cyan. Police investigation initially focuses on her acquaintances and admirers, but then the police discovers that she might not have been the intended victim. While this story is a lot longer than the rest, it does feel a bit artificially long. The first half for example could be shortened greatly without any harm done to the narrative. The murderer's plan also involves an utterly complex scheme to get hold of a perfect alibi with too many elements. I think this plot would've worked either better as a full-length novel, with each of the elements having more time to get developed, or a less complex, short story.

The last two stories in the collection focus on a younger Inspector Onitsura, during his period with the Harbin police. In Nire no Kisou no Satsujin ("Murder in the Elmwood Mansion"), Elizaveta, a Russian aristocrat, calls Onitsura for help, as she found a dead body in the abandonded Elmwood Mansion near the Russian Cemetary. Elizaveta was supposed to meet with the victim, a blackmailer, for business about her deceased sister, but she found the blackmailer murdered. Later, they find out that Elizaveta's father has committed suicide that night, and that his pistol was also the weapon that killed the blackmailer. The problem however is that considering the time schedule, Elizaveta's father couldn't have retrieved his pistol from the store, murdered the blackmailer, and then gone on home to commit suicide. The solution to this problem is surprisingly simple, yet elegant. It's also the first story in this collection to emphasize the impossibility of things, even if by nature, alibi tricks are always stories about impossible situations. Oh, and on a side note, it's hard figuring out the original Russian names from the Japanese text!

Akuma ga Warau ("The Devil Laughs") is the final story in the collection and also set in Harbin. On New Year's night, a policeman is guided by a gunshot and a ghastly laugh to a street, where he discovers a dancer lying on the ground. She mutters the name of her assailant, and dies on the spot. The name of the assailant was a familiar one to the police, but when questioned, it appears he had a perfect alibi for the time of the murder: He was a block away, just stepping inside the bus, and there was a trustworthy witness present (trustworthy in the sense that the witness would have more reason to lie to get the man in trouble). The solution has Carrian qualities to it, I think, and quite well thought-off. It's not a classic, but certainly a more than decent impossible crime.

Warui Kaze, as a collection, is a bit skewed towards very short, one-idea stories that sometimes feel a bit like hit-or-miss. Well, there are not genuinely misses here, but they don't really fill the stomach either. I remember I felt the same about The Columbo Collection, the Columbo short story collection by William L. Link. There you definitely felt the difference between the one-short stories which point out one fatal mistake and then end, and the longer Columbo TV episodes, where Columbo slowly pulls on the thread, revealing more and more of the scheme. Warui Kaze basically has the same, as the conclusions to a lot of the stories feel to abrupt, even if the contents of the stories is interesting. I did enjoy the stories overall though, but I'd not recommend this as an introduction to the Onitsura character (also because he does not appear that very often).

Original Japanese title(s): 鮎川哲也　『わるい風』: 「青いエチュード」 / 「わるい風」 / 「夜の訪問者」 / 「いたい風」 / 「殺意の餌」 / 「MF計画] / 「まだらの犬」 / 「楡の木荘の殺人」 / 「悪魔が笑う」

Down Town Game

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

As I fly, I fall down

To your side

"Flying" (Garnet Crow)

I actually quite like the cover of the book in today's review in terms of artstyle and design. If only it did not feature a clown....

Mitarai Kiyoshi series
Senseijutsu Satsujin Jiken ("The Astrology Murder Case") [1981]
Naname Yashiki no Hanzai ("The Crime at the Slanted Mansion") [1982]
Mitarai Kiyoshi no Aisatsu ("Mitarai Kiyoshi's Greetings") [1987]
Ihou no Kishi ("A Knight in Strange Lands") [1988]
Mitarai Kiyoshi no Dance ("Mitarai Kiyoshi's Dance") [1990]
Suishou no Pyramid ("The Crystal Pyramid") [1991]
Atopos [1993]
Nejishiki Zazetsuki  ("Screw-Type Zazetsuki") [2003]
Okujou no Douketachi ("Clowns on the Roof") [2016]

Toshiko had no reason at all to commit suicide. Sure, she was not particularly good at her job at U Bank, and unlike the other female workers her age, she was still single at the moment, but unbeknownst to the people making fun of her behind her back, she did manage to get herself engaged with a nice, extremely handsome younger man, who looked a lot like Tom Cruise. With their marriage planned for the following month, Toshiko had every reason to want to live. Yet for some mysterious reason, she jumped off the roof of U Bank. Her boss obviously is perplexed. Toshiko had just bragged about her boyfriend moments before she went up to the roof to water the bonsai plants there, so why would she commit suicide? Yet a witness swears he saw Toshiko go over the railing by herself, with nobody else present on the roof. With a witness present, even Toshiko's boss has no other choice but to accept it was a suicide, but soon after, another of his subordinates jumps to his death after being sent up to water the bonsai plants. This man too had absolutely no reason to die, but once again, it appears the victim jumped on their own volition, as there was nobody else on the roof at the moment it happened. Both suicide and murder are impossible considering the circumstances, yet these deaths did happen. When a third man jumps however, their boss is finally convinced that their roof is cursed. A journalist informs private detective Mitarai Kiyoshi of these strange events, but Mitarai is convinced there is a logical explanation to this series of deaths in Shimada Souji's Okujou no Douketachi ("Clowns on the Roof", 2016).

Okujou no Douketachi is the fiftieth story in Shimada Souji's Mitarai Kiyoshi series, which started with Senseijutsu Satsujin Jiken (1981), known in English as The Tokyo Zodiac Murders. As most people reading his blog will probably know, it were the early works in this series that later inspired writers like Ayatsuji Yukito, Arisugawa Alice and Norizuki Rintarou (and many more), which in turn would lead to a new wave of puzzle plot mystery stories in Japan in the late eighties/early nineties of the previous century. If you take a look at the list above, you'll see I've only reviewed a very minor selection of this long-running series starring a genius astrologist-turned-private-detective and his Watson, the writer Ishioka. Over the course of the run of this series, there have been a variety of adventures for this duo. Early stories like The Tokyo Zodiac Murders and Naname Yashiki no Hanzai were very classically built puzzle plot mysteries for example, while works like Ihou no Kishi or Nejishiki Zasetsuki were much more character-focused. What these works do often have in common are fantastic, alluring premises, as well as a tendency for very ridiculous tricks, in a good sense of the word. I think I make this comparison every time I do a Shimada review, but whereas most people would a needle and thread to come up with a locked room trick, Shimada would use iron wire and jackhammers. This also holds for Okujou no Douketachi.

I'd say that the premise of Okujou no Douketachi is probably the best part of the book. The mysterious roof where people who have absolutely no reason to commit suicide, who even state they have no intention to commit suicide, still jump off from is a strangely eerie place. I say strangely, because this roof is situated on top of a bank, next to a department store, in a fairly lively neighborhood. Yet, despite this modern setting (the story is set in the 90s by the way), there's definitely something uncanny going on the roof, as one by one, the bank employees take the quick way down to the street. I really enjoyed the chapters that detail this impossible situation, as you feel something anti-modern slowly creeping up.

I am not as overwhelmingly positive about the how and why behind the mysterious deaths however. On one hand, the solution definitely features the over-the-top elements I'd expect from Shimada (I correctly guessed the solution), which show that imagination is more important (and more fun!) than realism in mystery fiction. On the other hand, you need a truckload of coincidence for all the events in this novel to happen. One or two events, okay, I might accept that as possible and plausible, but there's a ridiculously long chain of coincidences necessary to result in what actually happens in this story. The way Mitarai sees through that all is a bit unbelievable, because there's too much luck involved.

The unbelievable number of coincidences necessary is also connected to another 'problem' of this book. I think I had the same with Atopos, but the plot tends to meander at times and the result is a fairly long novel, but in a way, unnecessary so. I think the idea of this story would have worked much better as a short story. A short story also means a more streamlined plot, which in turn would also get rid of a good amount of coincidences the current novel form needs to work. To call it dragging, would be to overstate my feelings on the matter, but I do feel this story is a lot longer than actually needed, and all the meandering is mainly used to set up coincidence after coincidence.

What was interesting is that there are several narratives in this book that cross each other. So you'd get a few chapters of narrative A, and then a chapter of narrative B, and than back to A, etc.  The neat idea behind this is that each of these narratives has its own font. So narrative A uses font A, narrative B font B, etc. It reminded me of how the deluxe edition of the manga Houryuu Kyoushitsu (The Drifting Classroom) used different kinds of paper depending on where the narrative was (the unknown world/Earth). I really like these ideas of using the book format to bring the reader an unique experience. I did not like all the fonts used in Okujou no Doukeshi however. Especially the first one was hard to get through, as it was like a font in bold. There was another section with a very round, cute font which was also a bit difficult to read quickly through. I think there were about four, five different fonts used in total. But especially now publishers and readers use the e-reader more and more, I am happy to these kinds of design ideas behind old-fashioned printed media.

Is Okujou no Douketachi a story fit be a landmark, to be the fiftieth work in the Mitarai Kiyoshi series? As I ask myself this question, I start waggling my head about. Not really. While it has an interesting premise I did really like, the story has to twist and turn itself around to accommodate to a novel-length plot. The problems I have with the story mostly result from stretching out an otherwise interesting idea in a manner that is at best questionable. This premise would've worked much better as a short story, which is a shame. Though this book might work quite well as a TV production, now I think about it.

Original Japanese title(s): 島田荘司　『屋上の道化たち』