She Died a Lady

Dance into the fire
That fatal kiss is all we need

"A View to a Kill" (Duran Duran)

Mystery fiction has always thrived on the re-use of concepts. When you read a mystery novel, chances are that the underlying core tricks or ideas behind the mystery plot are not completely original, but a variation of an idea that has been used somewhere before, often by a different author even. This is not a bad thing per se, as a good writer should, and will bring their own originality even if the core concept is old. For example, many classic mystery authors will, ultimately, use some concept used in the Father Brown stories, but a good author will manage to add enough of their own to transform it into something not easily recognized as 'oh, that's from Father Brown, and perhaps even improve on the original idea. Reuse of ideas is also prevalent within the canon of one single author. Agatha Christie is infamous for re-using her own ideas across several works, but she was always careful to change enough of the characters and scenery so you probably wouldn't notice it the first time around. This redressing of older ideas still requires originality though, as you can't just copy-paste chapters or paragraphs of an older book to write a new mystery, right?

Reuse of assets is however quite normal in other mediums, especially in videogames. Graphical assets like characters and backgrounds are very often re-used within series (and even if they're not the same series), as are musical tracks and game engines (the series of back-end programs that actually run the game). A mystery novel isn't likely to use the same written passages from earlier novels in the series, but mystery game series will often reuse these assets from earlier entries in the series. The Tantei Junguuji Saburou series re-uses many background scenes for example, and many of background music tracks are also (remixes of tracks) borrowed from earlier games. The Gyakuten Saiban/Ace Attorney as well as the Danganronpa series do similar things, with recurring characters retaining their graphical and audio assets from earlier appearances for example.

The game Keiji J.B. Harold no Jikenbo - Kiss of Murder, also known as J.B. Harold - Kiss of Murder however has a form of asset re-use I had never seen in mystery fiction before though. This hardboiled mystery adventure game was originally released in 1987 for the PC in Japan, and has seen re-releases on hardware like MSX, Nintendo DS and Switch. It is the third game released in Riverhillsoft's J.B. Harold mystery game series, though it is not considered the third entry in the series. The subtitle of the game is Another Story of Manhattan Requiem, and that is precisely what Kiss of Murder is: an alternative version  of the second game in the series, Manhattan Requiem. Both games start similarly, with the mysterious death of Sara Shields in Manhattan and Liberty Town police detective J.B. Harold being asked by his old friend and insurance investigator Judd to investigate her death, as J.B. became acquaintances with her during an earlier investigation. This is where the similarities in the stories stop though, as Sara's death is clearly a murder in Kiss of Murder, and this time a sapphire called Blue Sorrow which Sara had been keeping for her brother-in-law has disappeared. It doesn't take long for J.B. to discover that quite a few people had some beef with the woman, so it'll take a lot of good old-fashioned footwork to uncover who killed Sara and where the sapphire went.

What makes Kiss of Murder so strange is that it's a parallel world to Manhattan Requiem. Not only are both games about the death of Sara Shields, Kiss of Murder actually re-uses a great number of assets from Manhattan Requiem, most notably its graphical assets. While the stories of both games are completely different, with different characters, both games share character art. This means that the art of many characters in Manhattan Requiem is also used in Kiss of Murder, but for different characters. So while these characters might look exactly the same (as they are the exact same assets) in these two games, they represent different characters, with other names and backgrounds. So some people who supposed to be dead in Manhattan Requiem are alive here, and vice-versa. It's a bit like having the same actor playing different roles, but it's something very seldom seen in games and mystery fiction. It's perhaps similar to how the Nero Wolfe TV series used an ensemble cast that played different roles in different episodes, though at least the actors weren't wearing the exact same hairdo and outfits like in Manhattan Requiem and Kiss of Murder. In the original PC release, Kiss of Murder was a bit cheaper than a regular PC game, but you needed the disc of Manhattan Requiem to play the game (as it literally uses assets from that game).

In terms of gameplay mechanics and story, Kiss of Murder is also very similar to its two predecessors. Once again, the story starts out in a non-linear manner,  allowing you visit most of the suspects in any order you want, asking them about all kinds of manners. Right after the short prologue for example, you could choose to go to Sara's apartment to look for clues there, but also go to her work to ask about her last few da, or visit the library to look up some old files that might have to do with her death. A chat with one of Sara's acquaintances might raise your suspicions about them, making them a suspect, but they might also point the way to another suspect, or tell you something about another person whom you first thought to be completely innocent. There are nearly thirty suspects, and at first you learn all kinds of random pieces of information of them which can be A LOT to process, but as you progress, you'll slowly connect the dots. For example, at first person A might say they have an alibi, but interviews with person B and suspect C might prove that A wasn't where they said they were, making them a suspect too. The game isn't really helpful here though: it will say whenever you have collected enough testimony to consider a person a suspect, but it doesn't repeat what those clues were, so you really need a good memory, or write things down, or else you'll go "Okay, the game now tells me this person is a suspect, but I can't remember why." Eventually, you'll gather enough testimony and evidence to confrot suspects with their lies, uncover their relation to the death of Sara and in the end, solve the murder. As the game progresses, it loses its non-linearity, as you cross off all the possibilities. What sets Kiss of Murder apart from the previous two games in the J.B. Harold series is the chapter structure: Kiss of Murder is slightly less linear as it's actually divided in several chapters, with some characters and events only happening after certain chapters, whereas the previous games had less structure. Knowledge of previous games is not required per se, though Kiss of Murder does adress a plot point raised in the first game, Murder Club.

As a mystery story, there's nothing fancy here: no locked room murders or impossible alibis or anything like that. Kiss of Murder's emphasis lies on unraveling the complex ties between all the characters. At first, you'll only have a face and a name, but as you progress, you'll slowly uncover how each of these characters are connected, and most of them will turn out to be quite different from your first impression. As a game it's certainly not a very engaging or thrilling experience, as you're basically only going through dialogue, with everyone snitching on each other, The fun lies in going through this story in a non-linear fashion and making the connections yourself in your mind, as the game itself doesn't explain (for example, the game might tell you need to confront suspect A with their lies now, but you yourself have to remember that a while ago, suspect B and C both provided proof that suspect A had lied in completely different testimonies). At the best times, it does really feel like you yourself are solving this case, but at the worst of times, Kiss of Murder feels like a chore, as you run around asking everyone about everything in the hopes of coming across a clue. The division in chapters in Kiss of Murder doesn't help much to help this problem the previous games also had.

If you have played any other J.B. Harold game, you know what to expect from this game. Kiss of Murder does not only borrow its graphical assets from Manhattan Requiem, but the gameplay is also exactly the same. It is a very sober and small adventure game that focuses solely on conversations, with no puzzle-solving demanded from the player themselves, but slowly discovering how everyone is connected can be fun, but only if you pay attention all the time, because the game doesn't want to explain a lot to you. As a game written by Suzuki Rika (known for the Another Code and Hotel Dusk games of the late CiNG), you can expect a lot of focus on the human characters, but Kiss of Murder offers very, very little besides that.

『刑事J.B.ハロルドの事件簿 キスオブマーダー』

High Spirits

Damnant quod non intelligunt

If someone says they're too cynical to participate in a seance, does that mean they are actually leaving the door ajar for the supernatural because they recognize their cynicism might be getting in the way of results?

Table-turning, speaking with the dead and other spiritualist trends took hold of the wealthy in fin de siècle London, but even in spheres so enlightened as these, crime occurs. Sergeant Cribb of London's Criminal Investigation Department is asked to investigate a series of odd thefts among wealthy citizens. The link between the robberies is the owners were all absent from their homes during the theft as they were attending a seance by a certain spiritualist whom experts think might be the genuine thing. Cribb however is of course not as enlightened as his social superiors, and suspects that this spiritualist might actually be behind the thefts. The spiritualist, eager to prove his powers to the world, agrees to undergo an experiment. The spiritualist is to summon the spirits from the dead in a closed-off section of a room, divided from the group by a curtain. A special contraption has been rigged in order to ensure the spiritualist won't cheat while out of sight. He is seated in a chair, with special handles. As long as his both hands are on the handles, a weak electric current runs through the chair, which can be checked by a galvanometer by the other people. The seance session however ends in a death, as the spiritualist is electrocuted to death. As nobody could've messed with the transformator or the chair, it appears only a ghost could've killed the man. Cribb however suspects a human hand behind all this, and with the help of his constable Thackery, he intends to find out whose hand it is in Peter Lovesey's A Case of Spirits (1975).

I have read awfully little by Peter Lovesey (only Bloodhounds I think), but I did like what I read of him, and as I had heard A Case of Spirits mentioned as an impossible crime once, I decided to pick it up. A Case of Spirits is a book in the Sergeant Cribb series by Lovesey, set in Victorian London and focusing on a policeman rather than a certain consulting detective. I had no problems starting with A Case of Spirits by the way, even though it's the sixth entry in the series. The series was also dramatized in the late 70s/early 80s (A Case of Spirits was also dramatized), so I assume that this series is actually well-known by people better informed than I, giving the exposure it got.

What I enjoyed most of this book was probably its setting. Victorian London is not a place unknown to mystery fans. Most people have some affinity with Sherlock Holmes, even if one's not too familiar with early detective fiction and there are even (fantastic!) Japanese stories set in the London of Jack the Ripper. And yet A Case of Spirits managed to entertain me in a way I had not foreseen. Partly because of the main topic: spiritualism. It's well known that spiritualism became a real hype in those times, with people trying to contact the Other World, and even Holmes' author Conan Doyle has been known to dabble quite a lot with spiritualism. The seance is not an unknown sight in mystery fiction, of course. I always think of Christie's Peril at End House and The Sittaford Mystery, though in those stories, no crimes happen during the seance, which is also the case in episodes 603-605 of Detective Conan. A good example of an impossible crime during seance would be one of the early cases from Tantei Gakuen Q, but A Case of Spirits has an interesting one too, as every suspect is in another section of the room than the victim, and it appears nobody could've tampered with the seat-contraption. It is a kind of impossible crime, though I thought the final solution somewhat lacking in power. I have to admit I had trouble visualizing what had happened exactly, and that usually doesn't help with the enjoyment of a plot. While there is some good clewing going on, other (essential) aspects are left rather vague in the story, making it hard for the reader to 1) come up with the complete solution themselves before it is revealed, and 2) still somewhat hard to really visualize after it's been revealed. Or maybe it's just me. One object for example is supposed to be used in a certain way, but I don't think the prior description of that object would've allowed for that until it is described as such in the solution. But other elements of the plot, for example the way Sergeant Cribb determines who's the culprit, are worked out much better, in an almost Queenian way of elimination. So some very good elements, some less so. The plot also involves some more minor mysteries, like the thefts, that do tie in with the main mystery eventually, but those are fairly light elements in comparison.

But I did really like the whole seance setting, as well as the grander Victorian setting. What I liked especially of the Victorian London in A Case of Spirits is actually that it's not emphasized at all! Yes, the story is set in Victorian London, explaining the spiritualism hype, but you don't get constant references to the historical setting, and in fact, you could easily forget one's reading a historical novel at times because of the lack of elements truly dating the story. It helped make the story feel more genuine and focused on the plot, rather than being dressed gaudily in Victorian dress. I already mentioned the game Dai Gyakuten Saiban already in passing, and there the Victorian setting is emphasized, but that is okay, as the mystery plots there are intricitly connected to objects and customs from those times. But not every single story set in Victorian London needs to be like that, so I think A Case of Spirits works great in respect as it is clearly set there, but does not overemphasizes its setting, with historical references cluttering the pages. You'll occasionally come across something that seems dated to the reader, but that is all, and it never screams in your face it's a historical novel.

The novel also has a light comedic tone to it by the way, which also helps make this a pleasant read. It's funny though, in terms of 'feeling', I tend to think that mystery fiction set in Victorian London (written contemporarily) has a tendecy to be 'dark and serious', but when I start to think of examples of titles I've actually read/seen/played, all I remember is fiction that's mildly comedic in tone at the very least.

Anyway, A Case of Spirits is a fairly short book, and I am afraid I have also very little to comment on it. It's a decent mystery novel with some elements that are truly great and some elements that could've been polished a bit better, but an entertaining story nonetheless. I for one definitely intend to read more of this series in the future.

Murder at the Television Studio

"Print! Radio! That's what reaches people. Television is just a frivolous, expensive playtoy."

 "The Adventure of the Hardhearted Huckster"

As I mentioned in my review of the excellent Japanese TV adaptation of The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, I try to review mystery fiction in various formats on this blog, which often means either a movie or a drama. The reason I often end up reviewing movies is simple: they take relatively little time to consume. I also watch Japanese TV dramas regularly, but for some reason or another, I often forget to write a review of the series whenever the series is over. Last year's Kizoku Tantei was an exception in that regard, as more often than not, I end up only writing something about the first episode, like with Himura Hideo no Suiri or Nazotoki wa Dinner no Ato de, which were both fun series nonetheless.

For those like-minded people who enjoy watching proper mystery fiction in the audiovisual format, the recently released 21 Seiki Honkaku Mystery Eizou Taizen ("The Encyclopedia of 21st Century Honkaku Mystery Video", 2018) is a book to keep in mind. As the title suggests, this reference guide is a catalogue edited by mystery critic Sengai Akiyuki (and contributions from various people including Mitsuda Shinzou and Ookura Takahiro) with over 250 titles of honkaku mystery fiction in video form released in the 21st century. The book is divided in six categories: Japanese films, TV drama series and animation, foreign films and TV drama series, and "variety shows". The entries vary from length from half a page, full page to two-page spread, offering a short summary, some comments on the qualities of the product and occassionally other useful information like the best episodes in a series, or pointing out what other (mystery) works the screenplay writer or director has worked on. There are also a few short editorials (one a very detailed explanation about the differences between the original stories and the TV adaptation of Kizoku Tantei) and interviews to fill up the volume,

This book does not purport to be a complete guide, but on the whole, this is a packed volume with lots of alluring titles listed. The volume focuses on productions from the 21st century, which in general means productions from 2000 until late 2017, when work on this volume was finished (I think that Murder on the Orient Express (2017) is the most recent entry included, which dates from the end of 2017). With franchises or series pre-dating 2000, the book will only discuss those works released from 2000 on. The two-page spread on the Detective Conan movies for example starts with the 2000 release Detective Conan: Captured in her Eyes, while the Furuhata Ninzaburou entry only discusses the couple of specials released since 2000.

All the sections are richly filled with both familiar and interesting-looking titles though, even if there are some strange omissions like the more recent TV adaptations of the Asami Mitsuhiko series not even being mentioned in the Japanese TV drama section. I was surprised I had actually seen a good amount of the Japanese TV drama section, but there are still enough titles I hadn't even heard of. The foreign movie section is also surprisingly varied, with not only entries from the English-language world, but also plenty of works from Asia (South Korea especially) and Europe (Italian and French movies). The Japanese animation section is of course also quite important, as there are plenty of great Japanese animated mystery shows, and this especially is a form that is likely to be missed by English-language publications with similar goals (if they exist in the first place).

Is this a perfect guide? No, there are plenty of quirks that are easily noticed. Some are minor annoyances, like the foreign film/drama sections only mentioning the localized, Japanese titles, with the original titles (in their source language) only available in the index. Some entries are also hidden in other entries: the TV special based on Shimada Souji's Mitarai Kiyoshi series for example does not have its own entry and is not mentioned in the index, but it is briefly mentioned in the entry for the film Tantei Mitarai no Jikenbo - Seiro no Umi. The Galileo films on the other hand are mentioned within the entry for the two TV series of Galileo. You'd think that they're only putting franchises together, but this is not done consistently: the Detective Conan animated TV series and the film series have two pages each (but there is no entry for the various live-action adaptations). Death Note has entries for the films and the anime series, but not for the live-action TV series. So the selection can sometimes be a bit weird.

The quality of the entries also vary wildly. Some are really well-written considering how short they can be, with a brief summary, pointing out why it's good or not, the best episodes, and some insight in the staff behind the series. Others are overly-long summaries that barely give you any idea if the product in question is worth watching or not. The entry for Liar Game for example spends probably 90% of the available space to summarize the various games they play throughout the series, while arguably this series is one that would benefit so much more by a good explanation of why it's a mystery series for those who haven't seen it yet, as it is so different.

Despite some small points though, I'd say 21 Seiki Honkaku Mystery Eizou Taizen is a handy volume to have for the mystery fan. While the book is obviously somewhat more expansive on Japanese productions than on foreign productions, it's still a comprehensive work on mystery fiction in video form from all over the world and sure to provide some tips for future viewing. Though not each entry is as good as the other, I think this volume also provides some interesting reading on productions you haven't seen yet, but also on ones you already know.

Original Japanese title(s): 『21世紀本格ミステリ映像大全』

Cool City

「あれが天王寺動物園！あれが大阪ドーム！ほんでここが通天閣や！！どや？えートコやろ大阪は！」

『名探偵コナン』

"That's Tennoji Zoo over there! And that's Osaka Dome! And ya got Tsutenkaku here! What'cha think? Osaka's a great place, right?!"

"Detective Conan"

While Osaka is historically, culturally and even linguistically an important city in Japan, I never did spend much time there, not even when I lived in Kyoto, which was practically around the corner. I think I have spent all-in-all not even a whole week there in my whole life, even though I come across it a lot in media like books, TV drama and games.

The nomer "Modern City" was more than fit for Osaka in the thirties: it was a bustling city of business and culture. The whole country was quickly modernizing and industrializing, but the driving energy behind those changes was focused in capital Tokyo and here in Osaka, in the heart of West-Japan. Hirata Tsuruko still had a few years to go before she'd graduate from school, but she was already a true Modern Girl, a person of this modern era. Her greatest hobby is reading those detective stories that of late have become popular in Japan, but little did she know she'd star in her own tale of mystery! One day, as she's heading out for school, a fellow bus passenger is poisoned to death. This was only the first of a series of murders in Osaka, but what makes Tsuruko afraid is that her childhood friend Mia and her father appear to be at the center of all things. Mia and her father, an atropologist, had left Japan when both Tsuruko and Mia were very young, so Tsuruko had looked forward to meeting with her friend again, but Mia's acting very cold for some reason, and more and more deaths occur around the father and daughter, like a murder happening in the same building as where their hotel is located. Tsuruko, with the help of journalist Urugi Shousuke, tries to figure out what's going on in Osaka in Ashibe Taku's Satsujin Kigeki no Modern City ("A Murder Comedy In The Modern City", 1994).

I have mentioned in previous reviews on Ashibe Taku's books how he loves weaving historical and literary research into his stories: the pastiches featuring famous detective characters in his The Exhibition of Great Detectives series (Part 1 and Part 2) show both Ashibe's interest in the works he imitates, from writing style to publication history, but also a great understanding of world history, as  he also weaves real world events with his tales, while Grand Guignol Jou proved to be a mystifying bibliomystery that mixed book-fiction with reality, involving Ellery Queen's Mystery League, a short-lived, and lesser-known precursor to Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine. Each of these books is packed full with small references to literature and history, which has given Ashibe's books a distinct feeling.

Satsujin Kigeki no Modern City is in a way perhaps the extreme of this style. The book is a humorous account of the adventures of Tsuruko and Urugi as they try to solve a series of murders happening around the modern city of Osaka, but the story at times feels filled too much with historical trivia. Osaka in the thirties is the true focus of this novel, so it is not strange that Ashibe would want to flesh the setting out through the use of historical research in his story, but the problem is that more than often, it's simply too much. Let me start with the opening chapter for example. The story brings us along settings like Midousuji (the main street in Osaka), but each time we're given a short description of how that place has grown out to be its modern (thirties) current form. Or when Tsuruko enters the bus, we're told about the various bus lines that existed back in thirties Osaka. And then we're told about the kind of detective stories Tsuruko likes, and the magazines running back then, and the series being serialized at the moment are mentioned too. The thing is: this goes on forever. I can admire the effort that has gone into the research into thirties Japan, into the history of topics like the publication dates of detective stories, of films, of theater, of municipal services, of the geography of Osaka back then. There are also some minor references and appearances of historical figures like Tsuburuya Eiji (Father of Japanese special effects. (Co-) creator of franchises like Godzilla and Ultraman). But to have all these references pop up every other page can be a bit tiring, as it brings down the pace of the story, and it makes this detective story feel more like a Wikipedia page at times.

I myself do have an interest in early twentieth century cities in Japan (heck, I actually took a two-semester course on the modern city (development of the city in pre-war Japan) when I was studying over there) and it's nice to see Osaka as the focal point, as Tokyo is the usual suspect for these kinds of things, but the integration of all of this research is simply drowning out the rest of the novel.

There are some nice touches to this "historically sound" novel though. Some chapters end with newspaper clippings about the murders written in the old writing style to strengthen the "thirties" vibe for example, while there are also some real time schedules of trains and buses included too. These inclusions are spread out more, so they don't feel as heavy-handed as the references in the text itself. Oh, and a funny reference is that Urugi writes for the same newspaper as Morie Shunsaku, Ashibe's main detective character, used to work for before he became an attorney, many decades later.

'Completely packed" is thus a theme, and that also holds for the core mystery plot, as it features three 'real-time' murders and even more before that. We also have Hiroko running around tailing people and stuff, so there's a lot of sleuthing going on too. The core plot however feels a bit disjointed: there's no functional link between the various murders (they're different "sets" of murders), and they are on the whole fairly simple. The book often feels like a discrete series of events: one murder happens, they talk a bit about that while we're given copious amounts of historical references, another murders happens, now we move on to that and give little attention to the previous one, even more historical references etc. The murder that made the most impression was the one commited on a train: this actually features an ingenious alibi trick that makes perfect use of the era. The way the true culprit is identified is pretty brilliant too, I have to admit, as it makes great use of the setting of this book. But in general, I'd say watching Hiroko and Urugi trying to solve the crimes is more fun than actually trying to solve the murders yourself.

So basically, I could appreciate the intention of making thirties Osaka a living and breathing setting for Satsujin Kigeki no Modern City, but the way it was done led to an uneven novel, where every other thing would spark up a short history course or unveiling of a bit of trivia, while the mystery plot, even if at times really good, feels slightly disjointed and most of all, overshadowed by the presence of the Modern City. I did like Hiroko as a modern girl in the thirties though, so I'll probably read the other book in the two-part Modern City series too, as that's a short story collection, and I imagine my greatest gripes with this book (overindulging in the research and unfocused plotting) shouldn't play too much of a role in short stories.

Original Japanese title(s): 芦辺拓　『殺人喜劇のモダン・シティ』

Instead of Evidence

オレンジ色した極楽特急に乗り込んで彼に行くよ

「恋の極楽特急」（小島麻由美）

I'll get on that orange paradise express to go meet with him

"The Paradise Express of Love" (Kojima Mayumi)

I do want to climb the Fuji one day...

Inspector Totsugawa wasn't that surprised when he got a phone call from a private detective asking him about his subordinate Houjou. Considering her looks and age, marriage was probably something not too far off in the future, so the Inspector figured it was probably the parents or some other concerned family member of the partner who wanted to know more about Houjou. It is only after the arrest of Houjou on suspicion of murder of one Yamanobe Hiroshi on the Fuji Express to Kyushu that the Inspector learns she never had any marriage plans: heck, she wasn't even dating. Apparently, somebody had been dating the victim Yamanobe posing as Houjou, and the real Houjou had tried to find her imposter by boarding the Fuji Express, but with Yamanobe murdered and evidence piling up that "Houjou"' is the murderer, the Fukuoka Police has no choice but to detain their collegue. Inspector Totsugawa however believes his subordinate to be innocent, and starts an investigation into the murder in Nishimura Kyoutarou's Tokkyuu Fuji ni Notteita Onna ("The Woman Who Took The Fuji Express", 1989).

Another novel by Nishimura Kyoutarou, and another in the Inspector Totsugawa series. Yep, this one is about trains too, at least, it features a train at the start of the story. The titular Fuji was a sleeper train that ran between Tokyo and Oita, Kyushu, running (in one form or another) between 1929 until 2009. Unlike many other books in the Inspector Totsugawa series though, the Fuji's appearance is pretty much limited to the first couple of chapters: it is nothing more than the crime scene, and there are no clever time schedule tricks, nor do we see the Inspector and his team traveling across the country in order to find the imposter.

I have mentioned in earlier reviews that Nishimura Kyoutarou is an extremely prolific writer, who has close to 600 novels to his name as I write this review. And yes, that takes an enormous toll on the quality. He sometimes publishes several books per month, and most, if not all of them will feature Totsugawa and trains, so you can guess how samey and uninspired they can become. I have reviewed some earlier novels in the series for this blog, like Terminal Satsujin Jiken and Blue Train Satsujin Jiken, which may not have been perfect, but they were still entertaining as mystery novels with a focus on trains, with murderers making clever use of time schedules and the unique setting of trains as a murder scene. Tokkyuu Fuji ni Notteita Onna on the other hand is a perfect example of a mass-produced product, with little originality and few signs of actual plotting. It really feels like it was simply written because another book needed to get finished that month.

The premise itself (a female police officer being framed by an imposter) was okay, I think, but the book turns into the most predictable, and boring tale once we leave the Fuji Express. The "deductions" Inspector Totsugawa makes about the murder and the imposter are all nothing but guesses, and what's worse, each of them is proven to be correct! The Inspector sometimes comes up with the most fanciful creations of the mind by inventing unfounded connections between the various points of his investigation, which are always validated as correct a chapter later by some witness who just very luckily exists. Rince and repeat several times, and that's Tokkyuu Fuji ni Notteita Onna. Each single clue the Inspector finds happens to be intricately connected to the murderer's plot, and anything that would require actual inspiration to resolve in an adequate manner is shoved away in the hopes nobody notices it (seriously; the handling of the imposter at the end of the novel is horrible).

Also add in the fact that the Inspector does some really awful things during this investigations. Sure, he's busy trying to save his subordinate, but to orchestrate things in the hopes of upsetting a suspect so they'll strike again to clean up some loose ends, leading to more murders is probably something a police officer should avoid. The way the Inspector tries to get a suspected accomplice to talk near the end of the novel is also ridiculous, and should've got him fired no matter his intentions and the results he got.

So yeah, there is pretty much nothing redeeming about Tokkyuu Fuji ni Notteita Onna. Sure, it is a story about a murder on a train and the desperate attempts by Inspector Totsugawa to find the real murderer, but every single element of the story is written without any fire, without any real thought. The thing is not solved because the Inspector made great deductions about the crime, it is solved because his random thoughts always turn out to be correct within this fictional world, with any random guess based on nothing proven to be right. The reason I started with the book, was because I hoped the story would also feature Kyushu a bit (as the Fuji Express ends there), but what I got was The Stereotypical Mass Produced Mystery Novel by Nishimura Kyoutarou. There's definitely some fun stuff in his early work, but this novel is what happens when you publish three, four books a month.

Original Japanese title(s): 西村京太郎　『特急富士に乗っていた女』

番外編：The 8 Mansion Murders

It's that time of the year again! Hay fever? Well, yes, that too, but the last few years, the early spring has also been the period for me to do a service announcement that should interest those who like Japanese mystery fiction.

In 2015, I was more than excited to announce that Locked Room International would publish Yukito AYATSUJI's The Decagon House Murders, and that I was responsible for the translation of that ingenious homage to Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None. The year after, we followed up with Alice ARISUGAWA's The Moai Island Puzzle, a mystery novel I personally see as one of the greatest Japanese experiments in deduction, beating Ellery Queen at his own game. Both these novels were excellent examples of the shin honkaku, or new orthodox mystery novel movement that started in the second half of the eighties in Japan, when a group of young university students started making their debuts as professional writers with puzzle plot mysteries that harkened back on the Golden Age, but with an imbedded meta-concious tone. In 2017, I worked on The Ginza Ghost, a short story collection of (mostly) impossible mysteries from the 1930s-1940s by Keikichi OSAKA, a brilliant master of the short story who sadly enough became a forgotten writer after World War II, but who has recently regained a very appreciative audience.

For 2018, we're going back to shin honkaku, back to modern puzzle plot mysteries that pay homage to Golden Age mystery fiction, but also build upon that and even dare to go further. By now it's known that the shin honkaku movement was born in Kyoto, as most of the shin honkaku writers originated from Mystery Clubs from universities in the ancient capital of Japan. The most influential was the Kyoto University Mystery Club, where writers like Ayatsuji and Norizuki came from (Arisugawa came from Doshisha University's MC). For Locked Room International's third shin honkaku novel, we have the first novel of the third author who debuted from Kyoto University Mystery Club. Takemaru ABIKO's The 8 Mansion Murders was originally released in 1989, but the English version is scheduled to be released coming May. The novel's a tribute to the impossible crime mystery in the spirit of John Dickson Carr, which also happens to be a hilarious adventure. Comedy is a trademark of Abiko, but don't let the funny bickering between the various characters fool you, as the core is as classic as you can get, with impossible murders inside an odd, "8"-shaped house and! and a genuine locked room lecture!

Publishers Weekly has an early starrred review up and deemed The 8 Mansion Murders "one of the funniest and cleverest novels of its type to hit the English-language market in years." My own review from many years ago can be found here. Of the novels I've done for Locked Room International now, I think The 8 Mansion Murders is not only by far the funniest, it's also the most accessible I think, with a more classic, but certainly not less entertaining set-up.

Takemaru ABIKO writes mystery plots for a wide variety of mediums, and has especially been influential in the videogame world. The game Kamaitachi no Yoru was a genuine game-changer for mystery games back in the mid-90s (the first where you had to input the name of the culprit yourself!), and an English localized version is available on iOS and Android under the name Banshee's Last Cry. He has also worked on the 3DS mystery/science-fiction game The Starship Damrey and on certain scenarios of the fantastic 428 (English release 2018). The 8 Mansion Murders however will be the first time one of his novels will be translated into English.

Anyway, I hope you'll have as much fun with The 8 Mansion Murders as I had with translating it. The book will once again feature an introduction by Soji SHIMADA, and (a lot!) of footnotes both by the author himself and me. For those who enjoyed The Decagon House Murders and/or The Moai Island Puzzle, I'd say this is a must-read, as it builds on the same tradition, but with a very different tone from those works.

Turnabout Storyteller

"The truth, however ugly in itself, is always curious and beautiful to the seeker after it."

"The Murder of Roger Ackroyd"

On this blog, I try to discuss mystery fiction in various forms. While most of the reviews here are of books, you'll also find many reviews of mystery videogames, audio dramas and I have even discussed mystery musicals. But the medium I discuss most often after books, are the audiovisual productions: television dramas, specials and movies. Mystery dramas and movies are of course quite popular, and many of them are in fact adaptations of novels. An adaptation almost always opens the way for discussion: some stories turn out to work better when it's presented in a visual medium, while other stories actually have trouble working as a visual production. To refer to a recent review on the blog: the solution to the locked room murder in episode 184 of Detective Conan works so much better because it's presented in a visual format and it wouldn't have nearly as much impact in a novel form. But there are plenty of examples where an adaptation might seem troublesome.

Agatha Christie's The Murder of Roger Ackroyd (1926) has long been such an example. This third novel featuring the Belgian detective Hercule Poirot was adapted for Agatha Christie's Poirot featuring David Suchet in 2000 for example, but did it really manage to convey what Christie did in that novel? No, not at all, and it ended up in a rather nondescript television movie of what is arguably one of Christie's better known novels. There's a Russian adaptation, it seems, but I haven't seen that one so can't really comment. But in general, one can say that some ideas simply don't work too well outside a novel, the same way some ideas don't really work outside the audiovisual format, and The Murder of Roger Ackroyd has long been a headscratcher for that reason.

A few months ago, it was announced that Fuji TV would broadcast a three-hour television special based on The Murder of Roger Ackroyd in April, with a screenplay by Mitani Kouki. Mitani is a theater/film/TV screenplay writer and director, who is known for his comedic storytelling. He has directed some fantastic hartwarming comedy movies like Radio no Jikan (AKA Welcome Back, Mr. McDonald), The Uchouten Hotel, The Magic Hour and Suteki na Kanashibari. One of his better known plays was Juuninin no Yasashii Nihonjin ("12 Gentle Japanese"), a fantastic parody on the courtroom drama classic 12 Angry Men. He's also an important person in the context of this blog: he wrote Furuhata Ninzaburou, the fantastic Japanese Columbo and Ellery Queen-inspired TV show and he was a showrunner of Sherlock Holmes, a children's detective show which featured not actors, but puppets.

In 2015, his adaptation of Agatha Christie's Murder on the Orient Express was broadcast: the two-part special was set in 1933's Japan and featured not Hercule Poirot, but the great detective Suguro Takeru. While the first two-hour part was a competent, but rather too faithful adaptation of the book (which reminded a bit too much of the 1974 film adaptation), the second part was sheer genius: it told the story of Murder on the Orient Express from the point of view of the murderer(s) in a comedic tone. This inverted adaptation of the story fitted Mitani's style perfectly, as many of his comedy movies are about problems happening 'backstage' at for example an hotel (The Uchouten Hotel) or a live radio play performance (Radio no Jikan). The backstage tale of Murder on the Orient Express was more than charming, and some of the original elements even helped address some of the problems of the original novel! While The Murder of Roger Ackroyd has long been seen as a difficult work to adapt, I was really curious to see what Mitani would do with this television special!

Mitani Kouki's adaptation of The Murder of Roger Ackroyd titled Kuroido Goroshi ("The Murder of Kuroido") was broadcast on April 14, 2018. The story is set in a small, rural village in 1952, where we first meet with Doctor Shiba, the village's only practitioner who is also a personal friend of Kuroido Rokusuke, the most affluent person in the village. Kuroido is one night murdered inside his study, and suspicion soon falls on his adopted son Haruo, who had left for Tokyo, but had that day returned to the village with debts. Believing in Haruo's innocence, Kuroido's niece (and fiancee of Haruo) asks Doctor Shiba's neighbor for help: it turns out that unbeknownst to Doctor Shiba, his odd neighbor is in fact the world famous detective Suguro Takeru who had retired to the village to grow vegetable marrows. Suguro accepts the request and with the assistance of Doctor Shiba in the form of his new Watson, the two set out to figure out who murdered Kuroido.

One can feel Mitani's love for the original novel throughout this special, which already starts with the names of the characters. While they are all Japanese, they're also neat references to the original characters. The great detective Suguro Takeru's name is for example based off Hercule Poirot: Suguro is a Japanese name that is somewhat similar to the Japanese pronouncation of Poirot, while Takeru is derived from Yamato Takeru, a legendary figure just like Hercule(s). Kuroido is of course a name similar Ackroyd (the kroyd part), while Doctor Shiba in this special is named Doctor Sheppard in the original novel. For fans of the source material, there are a lot of neat little references to be found here.

While the story is set in 1950s Japan instead of 1920s England, Kuroido Goroshi is actually a fairly faithful adaptation of the source material. The core mystery plot is left completely intact and Mitani even adds a few minor changes to make the whole production more entertaining, strengthening the backstories and motives of several of the suspects for example, making it harder to guess who's the murderer. The Murder of Roger Ackroyd is especially infamous for a certain reason which I can't and won't divulge here, but those who have read the book will know about it without any doubt, and it's famous enough you might know about it even without having read it. It is the reason why The Murder of Roger Ackroyd is often seen as very hard to do in a visual format. Kuroido Goroshi works surprisingly well, to be honest. While it may not be 100% exactly the same as the book (which would be quite a feat), I'd say Kuroido Goroshi does more than a commendable effort. Clever shifting of some of the events and supporting dialogue lines help set-up the surprising twist quite well, and the moment Suguro reveals who the murderer is, you really see how there's actually more foreshadowing than in the original novel. Like with his adaptation of Murder on the Orient Express, Mitani stays mostly faithful to the original novel, but dares to add some new touches here and there to answer some of the unanswered questions of the original novel, making it a very robust mystery story. The motive for the murder is changed by the way, but it really works well in the context of this special: the original motive wouldn't have fitted Kuroido Goroshi and I'm happy they went with this one.

The tone of Kuroido Goroshi is distinctly Mitani, with a heartwarming atmosphere with a lot of playfulness. While Suguro Takeru (played by Nomura Mansai) is the detective character, the true hero of this special is Doctor Shiba as played by Ooizumi You, as he's even longer on screen than Suguro! (Suguro doesn't even really appear on screen in the first third of the special). The scenes he has with his older gossipy sister are pure Mitani gold in terms of warm comedy, and the chemistry between the eager Doctor Shiba and the somewhat eccentric Suguro works really well: I wish we had a whole series with these two. Ooizumi You is playing the assistant this time, but he's played the protagonist in other mystery productions discussed on this blog before: he not only plays the unnamed detective in the films based on the novel series Tantei wa Bar ni Iru, he's also the voice actor of Professor Layton! While some might be of the opinion that the comedic tone might not fit The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, I think it works wonderfully for Kuroido Goroshi, as it really manages to give this production its own face, while at the same time, it shows the original novel the respect it deserves. In my mind, this is the best of both worlds: in his two-part Murder on the Orient Express adaptation, most of the Mitani flavor was reserved for the second part, and the first part felt like nothing but a remake of the 1974 film where Mitani's hand could hardly be felt. Kuroido Goroshi however is from the start clearly a collaboration production between Mitani and Agatha Christie, which really sets its apart as a television special.

So Kuroido Goroshi was a very entertaining adaptation of Christie's The Murder of Roger Ackroyd that easily surpassed my admittedly reserved expectations of it. Screenplay writer Mitani Kouki managed to come up with a story that is very faithful to the source material, but that at the same time is also distinctly his take on the story. One can instantly recognize his style in storytelling, characterization and comedy, but this is fused brilliantly with Christie's original story, resulting in a television special that is truly a team effort across time and cultures. Mitani also manages to translate a trick that doesn't really work outside of the book format in a surprisingly workable and convincing manner for this special and the result is a mystery special that can firmly stand on its own.

Original Japanese title(s):『黒井戸殺し』