Time After Time

Time after time 

君と出会った奇跡

緩やかな風吹く街で

「Time after time~花舞う街で」（倉木麻衣）

Time after time

The miracle of meeting you

In the city where the gentle wind blows

"Time after Time ~ In The City Of The Dancing Flowers) (Kuraki Mai)

One of the first reviews of last year, and one of my best reads overall of 2019, was Ooyama Seiichirou's Alibi Kuzushi Uketamawarimasu ("Alibi Cracking, At Your Service", 2018), a wonderful short story collection revolving completely around the problem of the perfect alibi. The stories introduced us to Mitani Tokino of Mitani Clockmakers, a young woman in her twenties who inherited the shop from her grandfather, who also taught her the art of cracking alibis. For a good clockmaker should offer all services related to time and clocks. When the narrator, a rookie police detective, first noticed the sign saying they also offer the service of alibi cracking, he didn't think much of it, but when Tokino easily solved a case where the main suspect had a perfect alibi, he became convinced of her talent and since, he's been occasionally visiting Mitani Clockmakers whenever the police is struggling with a tough case. The stories were a delight to read: while all revolving around the theme of the branch of the impossible crime involving a perfect alibi, there was actually quite some variety (an alibi that depended on the download of a song that was only available for a limited period for example, or a murderer confessing to a murder in his dying moments even though he had a perfect alibi) and the plotting of Ooyama was excellent, with story structures reminiscent of the Queen school.

The first collection was released in September 2018, but it was received quite well, and to my surprise, it was promptly picked up for a live-action television series adaptation. The drama Alibi Kuzushi Uketamawarimasu started last weekend, so things went really fast. The show does feature a larger cast than the original stories, and the personalities/background setting of the characters are also changed slightly (Tokino being more bubbly, the narrator now being given the name of Saji and not being a rookie detective), but the core mystery plots seem to be adapted quite faithfully. The stories do really lend themselves wel for fairly straight adaptations, as they are not too long, and the visual aspect of the medium also helps visualize/convey the notion of time quite well (with graphs/diagrams explaining why an alibi appears to be perfect). And oh, man, the main theme of the soundtrack is excellent. Anyway, it seems Alibi Kuzushi Uketamawarimasu will become a good and entertaining adaptation of the source material.

Meanwhile though, I thought it might be fun to take a sneak peak at the "second season" of the original stories. Ooyama started working on new set of alibi cracking stories last year, and at the moment, two of them have been published. The first book featured six stories + one story especially written for the collected volume, so I assume the second volume will be of similar length, but as I couldn't wait anymore, I tried the two new stories out already.

Tokeiya Tantei to Shizumeru Kuruma no Alibi ("The Clockmaker Detective and the Alibi of the Sinking Car") starts in the familiar manner, with the narrator visiting Mitani Clockmakers for help. One morning, a car with the driver inside was found submerged in the dam lake far away from the city. The victim was Fujimura Kouzou, a wealthy, elderly man who liked to fish. At first the police thought he might've just lost control of his car and gotten off the road into the lake where he drowned, but medical examination proved he had been drugged, so the police suspects someone may have lured Kouzou to the lake with the excuse of going fishing together and that the culprit drugged the victim and pushed his car in the lake, after which they made their escape. The main suspect is Kouzou's nephew and only relative Hiroki, but of course, the man has an alibi for the time of the murder: he had a gathering at a friend's house, and all the friends there swear the longest time he was gone was to go to the bathroom, hardly enough to ride up and down the lake to kill his uncle. Personally, I thought the exact method in which the culprit managed to fake his alibi was a bit simple, as the trick is a relatively often-seen one in these kinds of stories, but I did like the chain of clues that first led Tokino on the trail, as she notices a few things about the crime scene that allows her to ask the right questions. So I guess I like the plotting of the clues/the line of reasoning that guides you to the solution better than the solution itself. Sounds negative perhaps, but I actually think that good clewing is perhaps harder than thinking of a good solution/trick in mystery fiction, so I wasn't in any way disappointed in this story.

Tokeiya Tantei to Oosugiru Shounin no Alibi ("The Clockmaker Detective and the Alibi with Too Many Witnesses") starts with a somewhat nervous narrator visiting Mitani Clockmakers and for a good reason: the death count in this case is already at two, as the murderer in this case is apparently also willing to kill witnesses, and the narrator fears what might happen to Tokino if the murderer would find out about her. The case started with a riverside discovery of the burnt body of Nagoshi, the secretary of Tomura Seiichi, member of the House of Representatives. Nagoshi's body was in a horrible state, but his personal belongings and subsequent DNA examination helped identify his body positively. The night before the murder, Nagoshi had been present at Tomura's fundraiser party in a hotel, but he had been called away by a, what turned out to be a fake, emergency phone call about his father being carried to the hospital. Due the state of Nagoshi's body, the time of death had to be estimated based on the contents of his stomach, as he had eaten the exclusive risotto served at the party and it was determined he was killed not too long after that. When Nagoshi's father reveals to the police that his son may have been blackmailing his boss with some dirty secret to become his political successor, the investigation naturally starts to focus on Tomura as a suspect, but he has a perfect alibi: he was present at his own fundraiser party, with about five hundred guests witness to that, and he was of course also there long after Nagoshi had left the party (which was also seen by witnesses and captured on hotel cameras). A few days later, a man tied to his bed is found dead in his own apartment, and it is discovered that this man was one of the people at the fundraiser party, raising suspicions this man may have seen something which led to his murder, but how could Tomura have snuck away from his own fundraiser party to kill and burn Nagoshi without anyone noticing save for the dead witness?

The story interestingly reminds me of a certain well-known Agatha Christie novel with Poirot: it hits a few familiar notes in terms of why the witness had to die and in very abstract terms, how the perfect alibi was created, but the execution is completely different and it's in no way a redressed version: Tokeiya Tantei to Oosugiru Shounin no Alibi is in fact a pretty good alibi-cracking story as it's pretty comprehensive: there are a lot of little mysteries like why did the murderer set fire to Nagoshi's body and why was the other victim tied to his bed, and there's even the talk about risotto and other elements: at first, the story may seem a bit disorienting, with too much going on, but once the truth is revealed, it turns out all these 'clashing' elements all work really well together. I do find the actions of one certain character a bit hard to swallow (like, you had no suspicions whatsoever?), but this way the perfect alibi was created does do justice to the evenly alluring premise of an alibi vouched for by five hundred guests.

At the moment, I don't know whether I'll be reviewing more single stories from the second season, or whether I'll just wait until the whole volume is released, as I suspect the standalone volume will feature an originally written story exlusive to the volume anyway. But the two stories discussed today definitely make me want to read more about the brilliant deductions of Tokino. Considering the usual length of a television drama series, I wouldn't be surprised if some episodes of the adaptation will be based on stories of the second season, so I'll be keeping an eye out to see if there's an episode based on source material I haven't read yet. But it's clear I will pay more visits to Mitani Clockmakers sooner or later.

Original Japanese title(s):  大山誠一郎　「時計屋探偵と沈める車のアリバイ」/「時計屋探偵と多すぎる証人のアリバイ」

The Clue of the Velvet Mask

"We all wear masks, and the time comes when we cannot remove them without removing some of our own skin"

André Berthiaume 

Funny thing though, these stories are not nearly as creepy as the cover might suggest.

Renjou Nachi is a very unorthodox scholar of folklore, often seen as the bane of the students who need to pass her course to be able to graduate, due to her incredibly vague essay questions. Renjou is of the opinion that any good folklorist needs to possess limitless imagination, though always grounded in actual facts, if their anthropological field of research is to progress and deepen. Her assistant, Naitou Mikuni, is quite aware of, and in awe of her brilliant mind and imagination, though he also wishes she was less impulsive and not always spending their lab's whole year's fieldwork budget within a month. Folklore's fundaments lie in fieldwork, according to Renjou, so the two travel all across Japan to do research, and of course, as this is a detective story, Renjou has a knack for getting involved with criminal cases (of course murder) whenever she's out somewhere doing research. These murders often involve people connected to her latest topic of research, and not seldom, it's Renjou's new hypothesis about her research topic that also allows her to solve the murder in Kitamori Kou's short story collection Kyoushoumen - Renjou Nachi Fieldwork I ("The Mask With The Accursed Smile - The Fieldwork of Renjou Nachi I", 2000).

Another mystery series about folklore, I hear you say. The last two years, I read a lot of Mitsuda Shinzou's horror-mystery Toujou Genya series, about a writer of horror stories with an interest in folklore, who always gets involved with impossible murders related to esotoric religious ceremonies. Kitamori's Renjou Nachi Fieldwork series sounds somewhat similar at first, though the execution is completely different: both series are ultimately based on real, folkloristic and anthropological research, but Toujou Genya uses that to set-up unique religious ceremonies and local deities, with fully fleshed-out, but fictional histories. Renjou Nachi Fieldwork in comparison is built much more tightly upon real world research, and most of what you read and hear here, is actually applicable to the real world. In that sense it's very similar to the Professor Munakata manga series, though the latter isn't a murder mystery (not always/most of the time, at least). Mitsuda's Toujou Genya also has a distinct horror tone with some hints of the supernatural, while the Renjou Nachi Fieldwork is far livelier, with a lot of comedy. I haven't read much of Kitamori, but the two series I have read (the Minor Kyoto Mysteries series and the Tekki & Kyuuta series) also involve folklore, though of specific locations (the cities of Kyoto and Fukuoka). Renjou Nachi Fieldwork in contrast is about historical research into folklore.

The first story, Kifuu'e ("The Gathering To Seal The Oni"), start with Renjou getting a message from one of her students. Tsutsuki has made a video of a rare New Year's ritual of the Aotsuki clan of the Okayama Prefecture. While similar to ceremonies like the Shuni'e, there's a decisive difference with the better known variations of the ceremony, as in this case, the figure wearing an Oni mask is actually robbed of its mask, indicating a decapitation. Renjou is of course interested in this new variation and travels to Okayama to learn more about it, but then learns her student Tsutsuki was killed, and by none other than Aotsuki Emiko, daughter of the family. It appears Tsutsuki had been stalking her for some years now, and that she stabbed him this time when he visited her again. Most of the plot revolves around the true meaning of the Ceremony to Seal the Oni, which in turn shines a new light on Tsutsuki's death. While the truth behind Tutsutsuki's death isn't particularly shocking, it links up well with the historical interpretation of the Ceremony to Seal the Oni. It's kinda hard to guess the truth behind the ceremony, even with the hinting going on, but it's actually quite convincing as a historical hypothesis and on the whole, this is a pretty entertaining story.

The titular Kyoushoumen ("The Mask With The Accursed Smile") was found in an old storage of the Taniyama family. The wooden mask was apparently acquired in the Meiji period, but many in the village died after it was bought, after which it was sealed away in the storage. Back in the present, the last heir of the family, Reiko, has hired the ruthless antiques dealer Akutsu to appraise and sell the contents of the family storage, and Akutsu in turn send a mail to Renjou about the Mask with the Accursed Smile, saying he'd like her to examine it. Renjou accepts, even if she knows Akutsu is up to no good, but the day after her arrival, Akutsu is found murdered inside the locked storage. Reiko immediately becomes the main suspect as she has the only key, but Reiko not only proves her innocence, but even finds out who really did Akutsu, and more importantly, why. A somewhat chaotic story. I love the immediate motive for the murder, but the set-up for that is a bit sloppy, with vague hypotheses about the meaning of the mask being talked about as fact. I do like what the real purpose of the mask actually is, and how it was hinted at, but the step from there to the motive is too large, even if the motive itself is good. The locked room aspect of the story is basically waved away early on, so don't expect too much of that.

The locked room in Kaerazu no Ya ("The Room of No Return") is far more interesting in comparison. Renjou is asked to investigate an annex room in the paternal home of Moriya Kikue, a well-known feminist and scholar. Kikue believes the room to be a "Woman's Room", where women who had their period were locked up because it was believed that it was impure, and she wants Renjou to prove it. The next morning however, Kikue herself is found dead in the annex room, with the only footprints in the snow in the pathway from the main house being those of the servant who discovered her body. This is the best story of this collection, as the connection between the topic of research (the room) is connected directly to the murder mystery: solving one problem means solving the other, while in the other stories, solving one problem usually only means having set one (big) step towards the solution of the other problem. The real purpose of the room is horrifying, and the hints pointing towards the truth actually presented quite openly, though it takes a lot of imagination and courage to be able to arrive at the true identity of the room. Once you know how the room works though, it's a small step towards who killed Kikue and how.

In Soushishin ("The Deity of Double Death"), Renjou's assistant is approached by a local amateur folklorist, who thinks he has found a brand new interpretation of the legend of the Daidarabotchi (a kind of giant believed to have lived in Japan). He hopes he can do a joint research with Naitou and have it published. Naitou travels, without Renjou's knowledge, to the amateur researcher, who says he has discovered an ancient iron furnace site in the mountains. The first visit is just a preliminary one, but Naitou's friend doesn't show up the other day, and figuring the man may have gone into the mountains alone, Naitou decides to go out himself, where he finds that the man was crushed by a landslide which also destroyed the furnace cave. The mystery then revolves around whether the accident was really an accident, and what the victim's hypothesis on the Daidarabotchi really was. This is the least interesting story: there's some interesting historical sleuthing going on based on the meaning behind actual historical writings regarding the introduction of weapons in Japan, but the modern mystery is really a let down, basically a 'it was all a conspiracy!' solution.

Renjou is sent two research essays by two different people, but both from the same place and both regarding Kakure Kirishitan ('underground Christians') in Jashuubutsu ("The Heretic Buddha"). Both essays use a Buddhist statue which was recently discovered in a small vilage as the focus of their research. One of the essays includes a picture of the statue, which seems to be a Buddha statue whose arms were cut off. Interested in the statue, Renjou and Naitou travel to the village, only to learn that the author of one of the essays was murdered, and what's more, his body was left in a manner that resembles the statue! An okay story, but ultimately, the historical meaning about the statue, and the mystery of the murder don't really connect: the statue is involved with the murder as an object, but the historical backstory is not directly related to the murder. Like I said with the earlier story Kaerazu no Ya, I think this series is at its best when the two do link up in a meaningful manner, so I was a bit disappointed with this. The hinting for the murder is done quite well, but because the historical and murder mystery kinda run parallel, without crossing in a significant manner, the story can feel a bit cramped.

But did I like Kyoushoumen - Renjou Nachi Fieldwork I in the end? Sure! Kitamori has done a lot of research for these stories, and the folklore discussed here is truly captivating, with exciting interpretations of historical events and traditions offered. Readers of Professor Munakata should definitely read this. As a murder mystery, I do find it a shame not all stories manage to propose a truly meaningful link between the modern day murder, and the historical mystery plot, but on the whole, this first short story collection definitely has me longing for more. I do have to say the series is perhaps best read by minor (Japanese) history buffs: obviously, the stories do help you ease into each specific topic, but you do need some prior knowledge about Japanese pre-modern history and culture if you want to be able to put everything into perspective. With zero historical and cultural knowledge of pre-modern Japan, I think it may be hard to really get into each story.

Original Japanese title(s): 北森鴻  『凶笑面 蓮丈那智フィールドファイルI』：「鬼封会」/「凶笑面」/「不帰屋」/「双死神」/「邪宗仏」

Greed

いまから嘘をつくよ

たった一度の君へ嘘

『君への嘘』(Valshe) 

"I am going to lie now

My one and only lie I will tell you"

"My lie to you" (Valshe)

About a month ago, I repeated the intention to write something about Liar Game, something I'd said for years. I was not lying.

Liar Game is a manga series by Kaitani Shinobu, which was serialized between 2005-2015 and which also acted as the original source material for a Japanese live action franchise spanning two television series and two theatrical films, as well as a Korean live-action series. I name-drop the series occasionally here, and the last time I did that, it was in my post on what I think a "mystery" can be in mystery fiction. For in my opinion, Liar Game is a prime example of how a mystery plot does not need to be about crime, locked room murders, ingenious alibi tricks or anything remotely close to what most people would usually associate with the mystery genre. It shows exactly how immensely diverse a mystery plot can be, and how the usual dynamics associated with a mystery or detective show can change completely by broadening one's views of what a mystery plot entails, without letting go of core concepts like clewing, fair play and a logical build-up and pay-off.

The series is about the Liar Game Tournament, an underground tournament that revolves around big money. Players are provided with 100 million yen at the start of the game, and each stage introduces a new game where more money can be earned or lost. However, participants are also strongly encouraged to cheat, lie and betray to obtain money from other contestants. Losers of a round are disqualified, and burdened with a debt proportional to their losses, which usually means nothing but complete despair (and if you can't pay, the Liar Game Tournament organization will find ways to get their money from you). At the start of the series, Nao, a gentle, but very gullible student, is duped into becoming a participant in the game. She's immediately swindled out of her starting money, so she seeks help from Akiyama Shinichi, a brilliant psychology student and evenly gifted con man. Together they manage to retrieve Nao's money and survive the first round of the Liar Game Tournament. They advance through each round thanks to Akiyama's brilliant strategies and sometimes despite, and sometimes thanks to Nao's natural gift to believe in the good of other people.

It's the variety in games that really makes Liar Game shine as a very diverse mystery series, providing an ever-changing battlefield that allows new mysteries and questions to pop up all the time. While the games can be very different in each stage, they usually revolve around the common theme of trust and betrayal, and the Prisoner's Dilemma. If all contestants in a game would cooperate and trust each other, everyone would be able to get away debtless at the least, and perhaps even earn modest earnings. The problem is that these games are designed in a way so betrayal will always pay off more to the individual traitor and not surprisingly, each of the games end up with everyone trying with minimalizing loss and maximalizing their winnings. It's this framework of original games each with their own specific rules and setting combined with the colorful cast of participants who can choose to trust or betray each other at any moment, which makes Liar Game one of the most entertaining and engrossing works of mystery fiction I've ever consumed.

Each of the games brings a new dynamic because of the unique goals and rules, and while some games are played by the contestants individually, other games are played in teams, which can lead to uneasy alliances. While these games appear at first sight to revolve around an element of chance and bluffing, there are ways in which to 'rig' the game to always win. Each games has clearly defined rules, and often involve elaborate props to play the game (the game Russian Roulette has a special 24-shot revolver for example). It's up to the players to figure out how within the confines of the rules, they can make sure they won't lose the game, and quite surprisingly, this can be done in a lot of ways: from finding loopholes in the rules to making clever use of the props provided for the game to even cooperating (and betraying) on-the-fly alliances with fellow participants. Ultimately, each stage of the Liar Game Tournament ends up being a true mystery story, with proper clewing and a logical build-up to the solution. The solution to what exactly, you may ask. Usually, each stage ends up being a howdunit, whodunit, or both. Because there are ways to 'cheat' through each game, there's always the question of how a game can be manipulated under the eyes of all the other participants and within the framework of the specific game (the Liar Game Tournament referees will throw out anyone who goes against the explicitly stated rules). Sometimes it's an opponent who is mysteriously able to see the moves of the other participants, sometimes it's one of the protagonists who miraculously turns the game completely around even though they were about to lose the whole thing. The question of how the game can be rigged (howdunit) is sometimes combined with the whodunit, as in certain games, contestants aren't able to see exactly the actions of the others, and some people might be betraying others through secret team-ups or manipulating the game in other ways to raise their own earnings and force others to lose the round. At any rate, one will be surprised how despite its appearances, Liar Game is a really well-executed fair-play puzzle plot mystery.

One of the earliest games featured in the series for example is Minority Rule: all the contestants are asked to vote yes or no a statement, and the participants who voted for the majority are disqualified. It becomes clear right away that it's not about answering truthfully to the statement (for example "I am female"), but in what way can the protagonists make sure they will always vote for the minority statement? Another prime example of how a 'simple' game can turn into a brilliant mystery tale is Contraband, where two teams try to smuggle money from the enemy country to a safe place over multiple rounds. At "customs" the enemy state has to guess whether the person passing trough is really carrying money with them or not, and false accusations are penalized with a money fine. At first, this game seems to be merely a game of guessing and bluffing and not a stage set for a fair-play mystery, but as the game continues, it's revealed that there's definitely room to force an outcome within the framework, making it a proper mystery plot.

I recently rewatched the 2010 film Liar Game: The Final Stage, which I had seen in the theatres when it was originally released. This film was the original ending to the two television series before it (2007's first season and 2009's second season) and was followed by the 2012 sequel film Liar Game: Reborn. My own first encounter with Liar Game was through the live-action television series, and while I did try out the manga at a later point, I always thought the live-action series was more entertaining, so I loved watching the finale to the original series in the theatre. I also think Liar Game: The Final Stage is an excellent mystery film, which really showcases how one can build a whole movie with many twists and turns and ever-changing dynamics around one well-designed game As the title of the film suggests, Liar Game: The Final Stage is about the finale in the Liar Game Tournament, so it's best watched after viewing the first two seasons. Over the course of the two television series, Nao and Akiyama managed to proceed through each round to arrive at the final game in this movie, where they are joined by some new faces, but also reunited with familiar characters from earlier stages. The game these final elevent contestants play is titled The Garden of Eden. In the Garden of Eden exist three types of apples: golden, silver and red apples. In each of the thirteen rounds, each player must pick one of these apples. If all eleven contestants pick red apples, all earn 100 million yen each that round. But if even only one participant choses either a golden or silver apple, only they will earn money while all the contestants with red apples are penalized. There are further rules that encourage not picking red apples, but also to not vote as a whole group on either the golden or silver apples. In the end, everyone picking red apples would be the safest bet, but of course, there are more than a few people in this final stage who are willing to betray the others to make more money. The results of each round are also announced anonymously, so it's impossible to tell who won or who lost each time. Can Nao and Akiyama still manage to win this game and save everyone from debt despite the presence of the traitor "X" who is lurking among the contestants?

I think that The Final Stage shows exactly what makes the series so great within the confines of one single film. While the whole story revolves around one single game, of which all the rules are explained at the very start, The Final Stage never becomes boring over the course of the two-hours-and-some runtime. Each time, a new betrayer pops up, but Akiyama not only always manages to figure out who this is, it's always properly clewed. The mystery plot is highly dynamic, because you're not only looking at "one culprit" in this film: sometimes it's Akiyama himself who has set a trap to capture a traitor, sometimes the focus is on how the traitor managed to manipulate the results of a certain round. Each time, you think all the loopholes of the Garden of Eden game have been found, but then another new, unexpected event occurs, and it's absolutely thrilling to see how the earnings and losses of each contestant change as the game approaches the final thirteenth round and the contestants keep on deceiving each other. By transforming the type of mystery constantly over the course of the film, Liar Game: The Final Stage manages to avoid a common hurdle for mystery films: becoming boring midway. The process of mystery-to-solution is repeated several times in this film and they're all about different problems, so you're never bored. In a way, it's a bit like how Columbo always picks up little mysteries on the way, before he arrives at his final problem.

What is also impressive is that ultimately, this is a fair-play mystery film. Akiyama sets several traps to find out who is betraying the group, and each time, the viewer is shown the clues that build up to how Akiyama set up his traps and how that allowed him to pin-point the traitors. Likewise, the movie also shows how each of the traitors managed to manipulate the game to their own benefit, and of course, these moments are also properly clewed. What's interesting is that everything all happens within the confines of the rules as shown at the very start of the film: it's not like the dynamics change because rules are changed or new rules are added: the game as designed simply offers this much room for a great mystery movie. Nothing in Liar Game is like what you'd normally expect of a "mystery film", and yet few mystery films will  actually be as satisfying as Liar Game: The Final Stage. Rewatching the film really made me see how it is really a fairly set-up story.

Anyway, enough fanboying about Liar Game. I can only repeat myself again and say it's a must-see for mystery fans and those who want to see how much potential the mystery genre really has. People who know series like Death Note or Spiral - The Bonds of Reasoning will know the potential of mystery tales revolving around games with clearly defined rules and battles of wits, and fans of either series should definitely check out Liar Game. I believe the first two seasons are available for (free!) streaming at Crunchyroll, and both are excellent (do watch them in order though).

Original Japanese title(s): 『ライアーゲーム ザ・ファイナルステージ』

The Secret Lost at Sea

You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You're on your own. And you know what you know.

"Oh, The Places You'll Go!"

Ashibe Taku loves his classic mystery fiction and often writes pastiches of classic detectives and other stories strongly inspired by them. His two-volume series The Exhibition of Great Detectives for example was a collection of entertaining pastiches which had familiar fictional detectives like Lupin and Holmes, or Charlie Chan and Sam Spade team up in criminal crossovers. What Ashibe also showcased in these stories is not only his immense knowledge of the fictional characters and their respective universes, but also of the real-life publication history. A major characteristic of Ashibe's writing is the never-ending stream of literary references and references to all kinds of trivia regarding how these stories were actually created, sometimes even to a fault as occasionally when there's a bit too much trivia.

The famous fictional detectives Akechi Kogorou (by Edogawa Rampo) and Kindaichi Kousuke (by Yokomizo Seishi) have of course also been used multiple times by Ashibe in his pastiches and he even had them team-up more than once. In those stories, the two famous detectives met while working on the same case, but Ashibe Taku has a more interesting concept prepared in Kindaichi Kousuke, Panorama-tou he Iku ("Kindaichi Kousuke Goes To Panorama Island", 2016). This book collects two novellas in which the two detectives visit locales where the other detective famously solved one of their iconic cases: one of Edogawa Rampo's more imaginative novellas is Panorama-tou Kitan ("The Strange Tale of Panorama Island"), while Gokumontou ("Prison Gate/Gokumon Island") is one of the best-known Kindaichi Kousuke novels. In this book, the always shabbily-clad Kindaichi visits Panorama Island many years after the incident that made it famous, while in the meantime, the gentleman-detective Akechi Kogorou, his wife Fumiyo and the boy detective Kobayashi Yoshio travel to the once horrifying island of Gokumon.

Let me start with saying right away that this is a book for the fans. If you haven't read the original stories and preferably even more adventures starring the respective two detectives, there's probably too little to genuinely enjoy within the pages of these two stories. Ashibe goes full-out fanboy with his references to both series, and sometimes (or even often), the trivia will only appeal to the knowledgable fan. We're talking about references about the release years of stories, or how certain stories were only serialized and never released as books and talk about the appearances of characters that only appeared on one single novel. I was familiar with both the original stories and many other sotires in both fictional universes, but some of these references are really nitpicky (in a good way, I guess). A fan will surely grin while reading this, but for someone who has never touched any of these stories,  Kindaichi Kousuke, Panorama-tou he Iku will be hard to follow, especially as the core mystery plot of both stories do touch upon the details of the original work. Of course, pastiches always rely on references, but I think in this case the core mystery plots aren't really entertaining if you go in completely blank.

The first story is the titular Kindaichi Kousuke, Panorama-tou he Iku ("Kindaichi Kousuke Goes To Panorama Island"), which has Kindaichi's old friend Kazama buy up the now defunct Panorama Island. In the original story, this island was rebuilt to be a (fake) paradise on Earth, being a gigantic, island-sized panorama rotunda that not only showed the wonders of the world as a panorama, it also offered all the pleasures of the human world to its king. After the conclusion of the original story, the island was abandoned and allowed to fall apart, until Kazama (a contractor) decided to buy the island and turn it into an entertainment park. Kazama invites Kindaichi along to view the place, knowing his professional interest in the location. After their visit, they return to the mainland and stay in an inn in a bay across the island. That night, Kindaichi is haunted by a nightmare, which seems to have come true: workers of Kazama had gone to the island that morning and discovered a corpse there, whose face had been destroyed completely. The man had been murdered in the night and been left on top of some minature buildings (a panorama works with perspective, so objects in the back are made as scale miniatures). The island is hardly accessible though, and Kazama and Kindaichi had not seen the body during their inspection the day before, so how did that body end up on Panorama Island and why in the first place? It's interesting to see how Ashibe imagined the aftermath of the original story (loads of references to the characters of the original story) and ultimately, the core mystery is actually neatly connected to the original Panorama Island story. The core mystery plot isn't really that complex and the story could easily have been half the length if it wasn't imbedded in this pastiche form, but on the other hand, this trick is one that worked because it was set in such a unique place. It's a funny story for people that know the original tale, though I think it is arguable whether this story needed Kindaichi to be the detective (though there is a reason).

This story is followed time-wise immediately by Akechi Kogorou, Gokumontou he Iku ("Akechi Kogorou Goes To Gokumon Island"), where Akechi Kogorou, his wife and the boy detective Kobayashi visit Gokumon Island, one of the first big cases Kindaichi solved right after he returned from fighting in World War II. Akechi is quite interested in seeing the small island community some years after Kindaichi famously solved the "Gorgon Sisters Murder Case" and meets with a lot of people he already knew from the novel by Y (Yokomizo Seishi) based on the events. As the famous detective and his entourage are being led around the island though, the reader is made aware not all is as it seems though, and it seems Akechi is planning to pull something off on this island, but what? Similar to the Rampo stories, we follow an Akechi who is aware of a lot more facts than the reader, and it's seeing the mysterious events work towards a finale orchestrated by Akechi that makes up most of the fun of this story. It's not really fair because Akechi basically already knows what's up from the early stages of the story on, and the reader is just left wondering why this or that is happening. This story too builds on the aftermath of the original story as imagined by Ashibe, but both the scale and the type of mystery is so different from the original story that it kinda misses the mark: the first story was much better in really feeling like the mystery plot built on specific details of the original story. The real-world references are also incredibly detailed and nitpicky here (and even somewhat confusing as it mixes real and in-universe chronology) and in the end, this story really feels like one for the fans.

Obviously, Kindaichi Kousuke, Panorama-tou he Iku is not going to be an universal recommendation. It's playing up to a very specific target group and there's little to appeal to people outside of that group, as the two stories here don't work well as standalone mystery stories. As someone who does know both stories, and the extended series of both Akechi Kogorou and Kindaichi Kousuke, I did have fun seeing familiar locales and characters, but seen from the point of view of another great detective. The concept is pretty fun, with these characters visiting the places from the stories of the other character, but the result is really only reserved for a small group of readers. You will know of yourself whether you're interested in this story collection or not.

Original Japanese title(s): 芦辺拓『金田一、パノラマ島へ行く』:「金田一、パノラマ島へ行く」/「明智小五郎、獄門島へ行く」

Question! Answer!

Detective fiction is all about questions. Whodunit? Howdunit? Whydunit? Why-is-this-considered-detective-fiction-it's-nothing-like-oooooooh-now-I-get-it. There has to be some kind of mystery, an alluring question waiting to be answered, an answer which the tale should provide at the end of the story. Like I wrote in a post a few weeks ago, a mystery can take on many forms: from the conventional murder to the question of how an impossible crime was committed, to the more mundane question of why some person is always changing coins into money bills at the store. But to me, the genre will ultimately always revolve around the underlying mystery of a story and its solution, as well as the process from said question to answer.

I've been writing my messy thoughts about the mystery fiction I consume for about ten years at this spot, and I think that on the whole, I've remained fairly consistent in terms of what I like to focus on in my posts when discussing a work. What I personally enjoy best about detective fiction, is the core mystery plot, and the logical processes that lead to its solution, so obviously, I tend to write about how I experienced the work from that point of view. Of course, it's not like I therefore refuse to write about other subjects: depending on the work, I also enjoy writing about publication history (like in my review of Rampo's Yuureitou) or about the socio-economic and/or cultural elements in a certain work, like the role of modern consumer technology in my review of Nimannin no Mokugekisha or folklorism themes in the Toujou Genya series. But in the end, I only talk about those topics because they relate back to the core mystery plot, and my final thoughts about a certain work will rely far more on what I thought of the presentation of the mystery, the path towards the solution and the execution of the whole puzzle, than how the specific work incorporated the theme of say the rise of streaming services in the mid 2010s in its plot, or how well the characters were portrayed. Some people will for example be looking for believable portrayals of characters and immersive atmosphere in their mystery fiction, and obviously, those would be topics of interest to them which they'd want to see addressed in a review, but yeah, this wouldn't be the place. A detective novel could have the most utterly unbelievable characters ever and I wouldn't even make one note of it, if said portrayal was also helping a core puzzle plot rise to amazing heights.

A review should be a coherent body of text that lays out the author's thoughts on a certain work and at least for me, I try to do that by putting the work in context. With context, I mean my own personal experience up until that point: all the other works I've read/seen/listened to/etc. up until that point, all the things I know about the various topics addressed in said work etc. It's basically comparing a work to everything I have seen before, not in a 'which is better' way, but to see how the various works do things the same or differently, and trying to identify what common themes work or don't work, and why. Some people might prefer to view a work standalone, without actively comparing it with other works, but I find that hard to do, especially in a genre that is explicitly built upon the shoulders of those before. It's the same with videogames for me, where for example you can easily compare game mechanics and perhaps say the idea of using one single A button as the Jump button like in Super Mario Bros. is better than having to push seven buttons in a very specific order before a character will jump. In a genre where we see the same tropes over and over again, it'd be weird not to compare them, and see what works (and to go a step further, to identify the underlying factor that indeed makes it so enjoyable).

But to finally come to my main point for this post: it's actually such a contradiction that while I do try to contextualize a work in a review and point out what works and what doesn't, I also go lengths to not spoil anything to the reader and thus not explicitly contextualizing the work. For yes, I wanted to write something about the topic of spoilers. Given that detective fiction is about questions, giving the answers beforehand would obviously be spoiling the game. Therefore, I do try to avoid spoiling anything in my reviews, as I certainly don't want to ruin the reading experience of anyone. I certainly wouldn't want to know who the murderer was or how it was done before I start reading a story, so I'm not spoiling it for someone else either. But that does making the contextualization process difficult at times. At one hand, I want to compare the main trick of novel A to similar ideas seen in novel B, C and D, and note how they compare and differ, but I also want to avoid spoilers, so I end up writing very vaguely about the tricks and solutions of a novel, and make non-specific allusions to other works, because obviously, explicitly stating that novel A has the same trick as novel B would be spoiling both works.
 

But as everyone knows, spoilers are never a clear-cut case. What I consider a spoiler, someone else may not and vice-versa. Would saying there are more murders than one in a certain novel be a spoiler or not? Would mentioning the fact that the topic of snail breeding is addressed in the story be a spoiler? Would noting that a novel contains multiple false solutions be a spoiler? It's never a definite yes/no answer, and there are also times where I myself am not sure whether I should mention something or not. I wrote a review of a very well-received novel for example, where I explictly mention and talk in-depth about a story element that the publisher and many others do seem to be avoiding, but I thought, and I still think, that it's necessary to discuss that story element because a) it's too important to not too and b) I think more people would become interested in the novel knowing this story element beforehand, rather than not being informed of it, which adds the risk of someone ignoring the novel even though they would've liked it if they had known about the "secret" story element.

Last year, I reviewed the manga Astro Lost in Space on the blog, which I really enjoyed as a mystery science-fiction series. Recently, a colleague reviewed the series too for a different kind of publication (not mystery-related), and it's written from an angle I would never have even considered. Mind you, I am certainly not saying it's a bad review: by addressing story points I myself would consider spoilers, she's also able to dive deeper in the work and discuss themes of the work I personally also find interesting (themes I could also relate to the mystery genre), but don't dare write about in fear of spoiling the reading experience of someone else. Obviously, she did not think that discussing those story elements would interfere with the enjoyment of the work. Everyone has different ideas about spoilers, but you can't 'undo' spoiling a suprise for someone, so in the end, I try to err on the safe side, because I don't like to be spoiled myself either. It's one thing to give someone a clear warning and choice if they want to be spoiled about something (spoiler warnings, writing the spoiler in code), but even here on this blog, I've seen commentators just throw spoilers about random stories in the comments without any warning. Which probably is a more extreme example of how everyone sees spoilers differently. But yeah, I'd really appreciate it if everyone would try to err on the safe side of the line.

I will just go on approaching spoilers the same way I've always done here, with short summaries that barely make it to the first murder/crime/mystery and vague allusions about similar concepts and tricks used etc. I guess that if I could do a review once in a while where I write openly about spoilers, but the problem there is that I'd probably be making references to a lot of other stories, so those would be spoiled too ("Novel A utilizes a trick that can also be seen in Novel B, but it's significant to note that in Novel A, the string was red, and not blue like in Novel B, for...."). So that would still be somewhat troublesome. There's no one solution to this, and ten years into writing about mystery fiction, I'm still not sure what goes and what doesn't.

A Fairy in the Flat

まるで幽霊（ゴースト）煙のようにあっけなく

彼女いなくなっちまった 

「フェアリー（完全犯罪）」（甲斐バンド）

Like a ghost, gone up in smoke

She disappeared

"Fairy (The Perfect Crime)" (Kai Band)

Last year, I discussed several female manga authors who were especially active in the 70s and who helped shape the format of mystery manga. One of the biggest names mentioned was Hagio Moto: she may not have been strongly connected to the mystery manga genre in general, but in the history of Japanese comics, especially those geared towards female readers, there are none her equal. Hagio is considered one of the most influential female manga artists ever, being a pioneer in shojo (girls) manga, the Boys' Love genre and science-fiction manga in the 70s and 80s (see also post on 11-nin Iru!). It's no exaggeration to state that modern manga as an art form would've been different if not for Hagio's work. While it's especially her early works that created gigantic waves in the world of comics, she's still a force to be reckoned with. The last few years, she's been working on sequels to her quintessential work The Poe Clan, while she also lectures on manga both in Japan and abroad.

And the manga to be discussed today is of course also by her hand. I'll start right away with saying Kanzen Hanzai -- Fairy -- ("The Perfect Crime -- Fairy--") is unlike any other comic I have read before and that while its merits as a mystery story are fairly modest, I do think it's a story worth mentioning at least. For this is the first time, and probably the last time, I'll read a murder mystery musical manga. I had no idea of this story's origins until after I had finished the main story (it was followed by interviews that put things in perspective), but being the experimental artist Hagio is, she decided late in the eighties to write a comic based on the music of rock artist Kai Yoshihiro and his Kai Band. She felt inspired by the lyric texts and the ambience of the music and asked for, and was granted permission for use of the lyrics for a comic directly inspired by her experience of Kai's music. The result is a musical manga: a comic where scenes are accompanied by the rock music of Kai in the form of lyrics, with dialogues and story development derived directly from the sung text. The title Kanzen Hanzai -- Fairy -- in fact was also derived from the Kai Band, which has a number titled Fairy (Kanzen Hanzai), a song of course also featured in the story.

The story starts with a phone call by Kayako, the female star in the upcoming musical GOLD, to Kousuke's home, her co-player and rumored lover. Kousuke's not present, but Rui, a young talented dancer who's living with Kousuke temporarily answers the phone, only to hear Kayako declaring she's committing suicide and that she's cut her wrists. Familiar with her hysterics, Rui informs the authorities and rushes to Kayako's apartment himself, only to discover he's too late: Kayako's lying dead on the floor. Kazuto, a manager of the musical too arrives at the scene at the same time, as Kayako missed an important meeting. As they look shocked at Kayako's body, Rui realizes another person is in the apartment, but that person manages to escape. Kayako's suicide results in a small scandal involving Kousuke, who had been away from town for unknown reasons, and Kousuke is taken off GOLD, with Rui now becoming the new, upcoming debut star together with another actress. While Rui tries to focus on his new role, he can feel the police seems quite suspicious of his story about Kayako's phone call and the intruder whom only Rui saw (Kazuto didn't), and the fact Rui now got the lead role in the musical isn't helping impressions either. Meanwhile Rui is also getting close to a young dancer called Youko, but she too seems to be involved with Kayako's death in some way, and as the first night of GOLD approaches, Rui becomes more obsessed with learning the truth behind Kayako's demise.

This isn't the first time I've discussed mystery musicals on this blog: I have reviewed a few of the Takarazuka musicals based on the Gyakuten Saiban/Ace Attorney videogames. This is the first time I've discussed a piece of fiction which was conceived from the very start as a musical work however. In a medium lacking sound, ironically. As a comic work Kanzen Hanzai -- Fairy -- is quite unique. While the characters within Kanzen Hanzai -- Fairy -- don't actually sing the songs of Kai and the Kai Band, the lyrics of those tracks are definitely what forms the core of this comic. As an artist who pushed the comic format towards comics with literary qualities, Hagio shows how music and lyrics (poetry) can also serve as a source of direct inspiration for a tale and certain scenes. Naturally, the story focuses a lot on character interactions, putting a spotlight on Rui, Youko, Kazuto and Kousuke as they all deal with Kayako's death and their own relations in different ways, with the lyrics of Kai's music serving as the 'background music' for these scenes. Kanzen Hanzai -- Fairy -- definitely feels like a musical, and it kinda puts some of her work in perspective for me: I recently read her 2016 comic The Poe Clan - Frühlingslied for example, which too was strongly inspired by a musical piece (the titular Frühlingslied by Shubert).

But this blog is mainly about mystery fiction, so how does Kanzen Hanzai -- Fairy -- fare seen as such? As mentioned above, the focus of the story lies more on character interaction inspired by the lyrics of the many songs of Kai utilized, and as a result, there are long parts in the story where the mystery is pushed into the background. If you look at the core mystery plot itself, it's nothing particularly outstanding, something you'd imagine in one of Agatha Christie's minor short stories, where everybody is revealed to be hiding about something for some minor personal reason, and when all that's cleared up and you finally have possession of all the facts without the lies, it becomes clear who the real murderer must be. Kanzen Hanzai -- Fairy -- can perhaps best be read as a thriller-type of story in that regards, as it does not attempt to present itself as a story where you as the reader can make an educated guess who the murderer is based on properly introduced clues. Unlike other mystery stories with music as a main theme, the actual music and lyrics from Kai Yoshihiro and the Kai Band aren't connected to the core mystery plot, so no fancy murders that are modeled after the lyrics or something like that!

So Kanzen Hanzai -- Fairy -- is not a comic I would recommend for fans of mystery, even if it's interesting as a proper musical murder mystery. As an experiment in comicbook storytelling, Kanzen Hanzai -- Fairy -- might be worth a read. It's a fairly thrilling silent musical that, due to Hagio's characters and storytelling, is surprisingly captivating despite its weird concept. If only the comic itself came with the music, or even better, the whole thing was performed as a musical (animated or live-action). Anyway, this was more a 'hey, it might be funny to know this exists' type of story, but I'm always willing to see how the broader genre of mystery fiction can work in different kinds of medium.

Original Japanese title(s): 萩尾望都『完全犯罪　フェアリー』

Shiver and Shake, That Demon's a Snake

Can you sing with all the voices of the mountains

Can you paint with all the colors of the wind

"Colors of the Wind" (from: Pocahontas)

The current (January 2020) opening sequence of the Detective Conan anime with WAND's Makka na Lip has some sweet animation, but why the dance? I thought we promised twenty years ago we wouldn't do openings of Conan dancing anymore... The episodes of today's review coincidentally feature the previous opening sequence with dancing: Conan doing parapara on Aiuchi Rina's Koi wa Thrill, Shock Suspense.

Sonoko's father of the Suzuki Financial Group isn't able to make it to a tea ceremony session of Aonogi Ryuuzou, so he asked Kogorou, Ran and Conan to go in his stead. Aonogi lives in a splendid traditional Japanese manor with a very large pond in the garden. In the middle of the pond stands a pavilion especially built for tea ceremonies. It is said that the shining sun will color the pond in five different brilliant colors throughout the day, which is why the tea room is given the name of the Five Colors. While chatting with the tea masters' disciples and son, Conan also learns of the legend of the Five Color Pond: in ancient times, a beautiful woman lived near the pond whose flute music could change the color of the pond. A merchant wished to marry her, and she agreed on one condition: the pond was to be hers, and nobody was to ever trespass. The merchant however immediately broke his promise, and had their bedroom built in the middle of the pond. When the couple argued, the merchant killed the woman, who turned out to be a demon snake living in the pond. The snake attacked the merchant, who fled inside the bedroom, which was protected by talismans. With the snake outsider however, he had no way of escape and eventually, he committed suicide.

History seems to be repeating itself however, as tea master Aonogi's wife was vehemently against building the tea pavilion in the pond, and she died soon after it was finished. Because of her death, Aonogi lives in fear inside the tea room, afraid that the legend of the demon snake may be real. Of course, it seems all of the people in the house seem to have some beef with the man, like his son who does not want to succeed his father but is basically forced too. In the end, it seems master Aonogi's fears are warranted, for at the end of the day, he is found hanging inside the tea room. As the tea room was locked from the inside, and Kogorou had been looking out at the connecting bridge from the main building all the time, it appears it could only have been suicide, but that's of course not the case in the Detective Conan anime original story Gosai Densetsu no Mizugoten ("The Water Palace of the Legend of the Five Colors").

Episodes 210-211 were originally broadcast on the 23rd and 30th of October 2000 and features a screenplay by Mochizuki Takeshi, who passed away in 2015. Mochizuki wrote a few episodes for Conan which all features murders in curious places (aboard a loop line train, during an underwater show and one inside a retro hotel room). This time, we have a locked room murder inside a tea room in the middle of a pond, a fairly alluring premise which perhaps also explains why this story also serves as Mochizuki's only two-parter, as it does need quite some time to set-up the backstory of the legend of the pond, showing how the tea pavilion, pond and main building lie relative to each other and of course have all the suspects act as suspiciously as possible.

The locked room problem is basically a double-layered conundrum. The master was hanged inside the tea room, but the small sliding door of the tea room was locked from the inside, making it a 'conventional' locked room. Secondly, Kogorou had been watching the pond for some time, and swears he saw nobody cross the one single connecting bridge from the garden to the tea pavilion, meaning the crime site itself acted like a locked room. Both sides of the problem can be solved relatively easily, though that is partially also because the clewing is done thoroughly. The way the murderer managed to evade being observed by Kogorou is incredibly simple (though easy to miss perhaps), but the way the chosen method also ties to the identity of the murderer is good. The solution to the problem of the locked tea room itself can be guessed pretty easily too, or at least I think many viewers will have a vague idea of what happened once a certain prop is introduced in the story. It's a prop that is quite strongly associated with a certain, famous Japanese mystery novel (not dropping the title here as it would spoil everything) and it is used in a similar manner here, but of course adapted for this specific scenario. But once you see the prop, you'll probably have some idea of what happened here, even if the specifics elude you. The exact manner in which the locked tea room is constructed may be a bit difficult to guess solely based on what you see on screen because man, there's a lot of little things the murderer did (putting things juuuust right) and it's a bit silly that an important piece of evidence is left intact at a certain spot, but overall, it's an okay locked room trick, though it feels a bit predictable, in the sense that it is exactly how most people will imagine a locked room murder mystery is.

Gosai Densetsu no Mizugoten may not be a must-see Detective Conan anime original like most of screenplay writer Ochi's output, but these two episodes do provide the type of story in terms of quality and depth like you'd usually expect from the original manga, so it's a pretty save watch if you're looking for some Detective Conan material you haven't watched yet.

Original Japanese title(s): 『名探偵コナン』210-211話「五彩伝説の水御殿」