The Mystery Clock

“…Uh, let me just reposition the camera a little bit so that the lighting equipment doesn’t show up when I turn the camera around. Please wait a moment.”

The director, Ota, announced that he was not going to start filming yet, and everyone on the sofa let out a sigh of relief.

“Let me just wipe your sweat off.”

Junko’s face was softly dusted with a cosmetic puff by the make-up artist. Despite Junko’s self-proclaimed attractive features that would qualify her as an actress, her proclivity for sweating on the bridge of her nose when exposed to strong lighting might render her unsuitable as an actress.

All of them looked awfully stiff. It could not have been more nerve-wracking than that particular night, but for those who were unfamiliar with the concept of being made to appear on camera, the pressure of being projected was that much more daunting.

Enomoto, whose thick application of makeup gave him the impression of a traveling entertainer, muttered in a low voice, “Let’s start. I feel like a burglar breaking into a house for the first time.”

In your case, that’s not a metaphor, it’s a perfect first-hand experience.

“Everyone, please relax.”

Kawai, who was indeed a professional, was wearing a smile with an air of composure.

“You are not really playing the role of an actor, so don’t worry about how you perform. Everyone should just do what you guys were doing that night.”

“But if that makes me less likable, what am I supposed to do? “Hikijii complained. 

What in the world do you have to lose now?

“But it’s not so easy when the script is practically a blank sheet of paper, right?”

Tokizane, dressed in a brown mohair suit and sporting the style of a wide-screen TV commentator, flipped through the script.

“Even the time to cut off the discussion is just written as ‘at the right moment,’.” 

“I’d rather listen to your free debate than a predetermined script,” Ota explained. “I had the opportunity to read a reenactment of your previous exchange, which was extremely intriguing as a real mystery. So, I would like to take into account the subsequent developments and further deepen the discussion.”

“There are negotiations with a TV station regarding the airing of the film, but it is still undecided, depending on the content. However, Tobishima Bookstore has already unofficially agreed to make a DVD version. This is a project directly from the president,” Motojima added, assuming a producer’s visage rather than a performer’s.

“I was told to do the same thing as last time, but I didn’t participate last time, so how am I supposed to do it?” Sergeant Yaegashi of the Iwate Prefectural Police Department replied, quickly pulling out a handkerchief and wiping his forehead.

“You are basically an observer, so please be a keen listener. If someone asks Yaegashi a question about the results of the investigation, simply answer the question.”

“But I can’t just blurt out everything that happened in the investigation, you know.”

“No, no, no, it’s fine. If you reveal it anyway, the inappropriate parts can be omitted in the film later.”

Ota rounded off the conversation in a smooth manner. If he really divulged investigative confidential information and it was aired, Sergeant Yaegashi’s position as a public service officer would be in jeopardy. Even so, Junko had never expected that two weeks after the incident had ended, all the parties involved would be reunited again in this mountain villa at this time of year.

After Tokizane reported the incident on his satellite phone that night, it took more than 30 minutes for the police to arrive, but what followed was also lengthy. The interrogation was relentless, and all of them were questioned severely as to why they had reported the incident so late.

Apparently, the police overreacted to the suspicious situation of a group of mystery writers congregating in a remote mountain villa. They were all made to reenact their actions several times, and Junko remembered Enomoto repeatedly carrying out the action of looking through the Mystery Clock endlessly.

By the time it was finally over, Junko was exhausted and slept like a log in a separate room until morning.

What unfolded subsequently remained obscure in many respects. Only one thing was certain: Enomoto was active in the dark somehow. Not only did he meet with the members of the group who were at the villa that night, but he was also said to have been in secret contact with the police.

Consequently, this project was launched. Tobishima Bookstore was going to publish a book of detective play in which all the members gathered together. Furthermore, if the project was to be made into a DVD, it had to be financed on a reasonable budget.

Despite the fact that all the members had traveled a long way to Iwate for the production, most of the members apparently willingly accepted the request to star in the film. Rather than receiving the performance fee, they were more inclined to solve the mystery of the case. Although Tokizane was reluctant until the very end, he was apparently moved by the condition of holding a Tokizane Genki Fair following the Mori Reiko Memorial Fair, which was now proving to be a smash hit. He was also informed that the case would be turned into a film with a stellar cast, and he eventually consented to the project.

“Yes, things are ready now. Now, everyone, please stand by for the production,” Ota joyfully stated. “The opening act will kick off with you, Enomoto. After watching the VTR, please begin with your signature line.”

“Wait a minute. Are we going to start with the VTR first?” Motojima inquired, puzzled.

“Yes. The actors will reenact the scene from last time. The shooting has not started yet.”

“When you say ‘last time,’ from which point to which point?”

Ota answered with a look of eagerness, “I mean from the beginning of the dinner party to the arrival of the police.”

“No. At first glance, it may seem that the discussion is the same, but the meaning of the discussion is completely different between the last time and this time,” Enomoto interrupted quietly.

“I don’t understand. How are they completely different?” Hikijii asked.

“This is the first time we’re really reflecting on the case,” Enomoto lowered his voice. “What we called a discussion last time was actually part of the case itself – the case is still ongoing after all.” 

Silence ensued.

The majority of them had a look of utter amazement, but when she glanced at Tokizane’s face, Junko was struck with a start. Behind his Wellington glasses, Junko could discern a dark color in his eyes that could best be described as gruesome.

“Then, let’s get to work, please!”

At Ota’s signal, without even a countdown, the play suddenly began.

Enomoto quietly initiated the session.

“To everyone who has seen the VTR. Up to this point, all the information and clues necessary to get to the bottom of the case have been disclosed.”

He then delivered a promising opening statement.

“Those of you who are confident in your deductive abilities, please prepare your own hypothesis before watching the solution section that follows.”

“The solution section is… Is this for real? Have you solved it?”

Kawai mumbled as if he was an actor but had forgotten he was in the middle of a production.

“Just two weeks ago, the tragedy that took place at this mountain villa cast a heavy shadow over our hearts and minds. A mystery writer, Mori Reiko, who was loved by many readers, lost her life while writing. The cause of death was poisoning from aconitine, a poisonous substance that had been mixed into her coffee.”

Junko was astounded by Enomoto’s remarkably skillful narration. She wondered if his narration skills would be of any use to a thief.

“That night, the nine of us who were inside the villa suspected another murder and sought to ascertain who the murderer was before reporting it to the police. However, we were ultimately unsuccessful in identifying the culprit; instead, we ended up with the conclusion, as a compromise, that there was a great possibility that it was an accident.”

Enomoto drew a deep breath before continuing.

“However, it is now evident that the victim, Mori Reiko, was murdered by someone, according to certain newly discovered facts. We’ve all traveled a long way to get here today to debate the case thoroughly, based on new knowledge, and to bring the murderer to justice once and for all.”

The impact was jarring. Most of the members of the panel were probably thinking that they were basically repeating the previous discussion and that it would be a great opportunity to discover a new point of view. From the very beginning, they must not have anticipated that they would hear such a provocative declaration.

“It has been revealed that Reiko was murdered?” Tokizane was the first to react. “What do you mean by that? I haven’t heard anything about it.”

“Ota requested that I announce it here because he thought it would be more dramatic,” Enomoto declared brazenly. “Ah, I’m sorry. Please cut out the part where I explain what I just said.”

Of course, the true explanation was that if such information was disclosed ahead of time, the culprit may refuse to comply.

But even if they felt caught in a trap, the culprit would not get up from their seat and leave now. If they did, it would only raise suspicions about themselves, and since they must have complete faith in their plan, they should have strong expectations that the truth will never be uncovered. Besides, they must be eager to find out what the newly discovered facts would be.

“So? What specific facts have been discovered?”

Kumakura leaned forward. With his eyes wide open, he appeared to have transformed from a sleepy mole into an awakened hamster.

“The first thing I wondered about was the Accuphase T-1100 FM tuner. Someone who uses such an expensive tuner must be quite an FM enthusiast. When Sasaki Natsumi was asked about it, she mentioned that the FM was left playing while Mori Reiko was writing, even in recent days. If her death was an accident, it would not explain why the tuner was turned off.”

“So, that’s the brand-new revelation? What’s so noteworthy about that?” Tokizane said as if he was spitting out. “There’s no way we can know why Reiko turned off the radio. Moreover, if she was upset because her LPC froze, it would not be unreasonable to assume that she turned it off to concentrate.”

“On that note, there was no trace of that computer freezing up.”

Enomoto looked at Sergeant Yaegashi.

“…Well, we checked the error logs and found nothing,” Sergeant Yaegashi had no choice but to reply.

“Even if the freeze had not occurred, Reiko may have been distracted for another reason and unwittingly consumed the poisoned coffee. She may have switched off the radio temporarily since it was too loud at the time. There are countless possibilities.”

Tokizane shook his head as if it were absurd.

“So that is why they investigated what kind of broadcasts Mori Reiko was listening to. What she often listened to was Michinoku FM, and she especially liked a program called ‘From Ihatove.’ This program was on air right around the time of her death.”

Enomoto ignored Tokizane’s objections and proceeded.

“Here is a copy of the note that she left behind. Incidentally, what was the result of the handwriting analysis?”

Sergeant Yaegashi said, “It was written by the victim herself, Mori Reiko.”

“And none of you had any doubts about that, right?” Tokizane seemed somewhat irritated.

“Everyone, please take another look at this sentence.”

Mystery Clock. The Eternal Boy. Neverland.

I don’t want to live in a filthy world anymore.

Upon looking at it again, there was no clue as to what it meant. It seemed somewhat pessimistic, so much that Junko initially suspected it might be a suicide note.

“On top of that, I want you to listen to this recording.”

Enomoto touched the tablet on the desk. A glazed woman’s voice streamed out.

“…So, I decided to come to Tokyo on short notice and stayed at the Tokyo Dome Hotel, but I had some free time, which gave me the opportunity to ride the ring-shaped Ferris wheel at the Tokyo Dome City. After all, I am a sucker for a Ferris wheel. It was a rare type of Ferris wheel known as the ‘Big O.’ It did not have a central pillar, but I thought at the time that the design was similar to something else. Ah, yes, that’s right. It reminded me of a Mystery Clock.”

From there, the conversation continued for a while about the Mystery Clock, which she had seen at an exhibition a long time ago.

“It’s an unworldly clock that ticks away the time. It’s the kind of clock that the ‘Eternal Boy’ would have liked, as I have mentioned many times on this program. Wouldn’t it be perfect if Peter Pan owned one in Neverland? The feeling of being detached from the real world, from the mundane? A feeling of not wishing to be in the filthy world anymore? I feel as if such a feeling has been crystallized into a work of art called Mystery Clock. Now then, ‘Neverland’ by Marillion. Please listen.”

Enomoto stopped the audio.

“This was borrowed from a local enthusiast who has been recording ‘From Ihatov’ every time. Incidentally, they are old-time readers of Mori Reiko’s works.”

“So that means my aunt was listening to this broadcast and wrote this note, right?” Kawai asked whisperingly. His eyes were keen, despite his restrained tone.

“The contents of the notes match each other so well that it would be unreasonable to think it was a coincidence.”

“If so, what does that leave us with?” Motojima asked.

“The murderer discovered the existence of this note after poisoning Mori Reiko,” Enomoto continued indifferently.

“Even the murderer must not have known what it was, but it is quite common for novelists to write down ideas that strike them. The perpetrator reasoned that since no one would know what it was, it would be a sensible move to exploit it to their advantage. Since it should be provable that it was written by Mori Reiko herself, and because it looks like a suicide note at first glance, it might reinforce the suicide theory… However, committing suicide while waiting for invited guests would be a bit unnatural. They must have been aware that this was the only flaw in their plan. So they changed their plan to disguise it as an accident.”

“You think the murderer saw the note and came up with the idea on the spur of the moment?” Kumakura spoke doubtfully.

“It should come as no surprise to people who earn their living creating stories, for example, mystery writers.”

“I see. That may be true,” Hikijii interrupted. “I could have done it, too, of course… I am not saying I am the culprit though.”

“Now, the problem here is the file titled ‘Mystery Clock’ that was found on Mori Reiko’s computer. The title matches the keywords in the memo and addresses poisoning by aconitine. This would be a perfect reinforcement for the accident theory. However, now that we know the identity of the note, we can only assume that the text in the file itself is a fake.”

“You mean that the culprit wrote the note…” Tokizane put his hand on his forehead contemplatively. “If so, the time stamps on those two documents may prove to be important evidence.”

“What do you mean?” asked Motojima.

“Don’t you remember? The updates were at 9:36 for ‘Poison Bird’ and 9:34 for ‘Mystery Clock.’ If the murderer wrote both of them, they must have been in the study at that time.”

“I see. Then, Tokizane is the first person to be ruled out, isn’t that right?”

In response to Enomoto’s question, Tokizane’s chest heaved with pride.

“Isn’t that obvious? I was on the phone with Shimizu, the president of Tobishima Bookstore, until 9:38. Since I was using a satellite mobile phone, I was not allowed to enter the building until then. You have already verified that fact, right?”

“Yes. The phone records between the satellite mobile phone company and President Shimizu’s home phone have been verified. The call time was indeed 31 minutes from 9:07 to 9:38. Even President Shimizu himself testified to this.”

Enomoto, in a cautious manner, affirmed Tokizane’s alibi.

Up to this point in the story – Tokizane’s access to aconitine, his ability to set up tricks using articles in the villa, and his motive all made it clear to everyone that Tokizane was suspicious.

But the man had an ironclad alibi.

Wait a minute, Junko thought. If you look at it another way, this is a locked room mystery. From Tokizane’s perspective outside the villa, the study where Mori Reiko died would be a locked room.

In other words, the mystery of how the break-in took place could be solved.

How could he have poisoned Mori Reiko in the study on the second floor while talking on a satellite mobile phone?

After that, he had to look at the notes written by Mori Reiko and update the documents on his computer, but, well, those are trifling matters in terms of a mystery.

For now, I shall only dwell on how did he get Mori Reiko to swallow the poison? 

Junko closed her eyes.

An image of Tokizane with a satellite phone in his hand flashed through her mind.

Tokizane’s eyes, which had gone around the side of the building, caught a glimpse of a lit second-floor window.

What can he do? If there was a long ladder, he could get right up to the window. However, if such a ladder had been left behind, the police would have found it by now.

A ladder is not easily disposed of.

If there were an object that could easily disappear on its own. And if someone could use it to get right up to the window… something like Peter Pan…

At that moment, a thrill of excitement swept over her.

“I got it!”

Junko shouted out loud involuntarily.

“Did you really figure it out?”

“How did the murderer do it?”

Motojima and Kawai asked almost simultaneously.

“After all, the culprit is Tokizane – you, isn’t it?” Junko said firmly.

When Junko said this with conviction, Tokizane’s complexion immediately turned pale.

“What on earth are you talking about? As I told you, I have an alibi.”

“The locked room has been breached,” Junko said quietly.

“The locked room?”

“Um… Aoto,” Enomoto interjected, reservedly. “This time, unlike in the past, everything will be recorded on video.”

Junko looked at the bright lights and the camera that was filming her from directly in front of her. The camera was as close as it could get, but it must have zoomed in even further.

“I guess so.”

The only thing that bothered her was whether or not she was sweating on the bridge of her nose, but if she could solve the problem successfully, that would be a treat.

“The hint this time came from the FM broadcast I just listened to.”

Junko’s words startled them, and a gasp spread through the room.

“What on earth was in that broadcast?” Enomoto, for some reason, was clutching his head.

“It’s Peter Pan… Isn’t that obvious by now?”

Even if they didn’t know what it meant, about half the members present seemed impressed.

“When you say ‘obvious,’ there are two meanings to the line, though. There are some cases where logically no other way of conceiving it would be viable,” Hikijii said in a wry tone.

“Or it may simply demonstrate the unfortunate limitations of your ability to conceive,” Enomoto responded with a sigh. 

How impertinent.

“Excuse me? The murderer was under no obligation to enter the study. It was only a matter of poisoning Mori Reiko’s coffee cup via the second-floor window. Let’s say that the computer documents were the bottleneck.”

“That’s fine, for now. So, how did the murderer manage to climb up to the second-floor window?”

“Even if they didn’t have the free-climbing skills of Enomoto, all they had to do was to float up like Peter Pan.”

“When you say ‘float,’ you mean, no way…”

“You couldn’t mean that the culprit had tied a balloon, whose buoyancy was greater than their own body weight, directly under the study. In all likelihood, they secured the balloon in two places, at the end and in the middle of a long cord. They then fastened themselves to the cord, untied the knot in the middle, and floated upstairs in a single motion.”

“So that’s what you mean by Peter Pan… Phew. And then what happened?”

“The culprit saw an opening and slipped poison into Mori Reiko’s coffee through the window. Then they descended to the ground along the cord, unfastened the end of the cord, for the balloon to fly away.”

Junko looked up at the ceiling, visualizing a starry sky.

“Over the Ōu Mountain and far away to Neverland…!”

“Never!”

Enomoto exclaimed, spreading his arms like a musician.

“Let me say something. Putting poison via a window without being discovered, no matter how enthusiastic Mori Reiko is about her profession, would be immensely challenging. To begin with, it’s doubtful that the window was open, and if you dissolve it in a creamer, the color and taste would be changed. It is absurd to think that this was done while hanging from a balloon cord and talking on a satellite mobile phone, no matter how outrageous it is… Ota. Please turn the camera off here.”

“Well, it was interesting, though.”

Ota seemed to want to use this scene as part of the film.

“I see, so that’s what this is about,” Tokizane said with a strange smile on his face. “You two are in perfect harmony. Instead of a good cop and a bad cop, we have a dumb detective and a smart detective, acting comedic and cleverly cajoling the suspect into a corner.”

A dumb detective, you called me? Junko was offended.

“I have no intention of doing anything like that,” Enomoto remarked, “but I’m sure you won’t believe me.”

“However, if you are going to call me a murderer, I would appreciate it if you could first break down my alibi. It was absolutely impossible for me to commit the crime that night. On the other hand, there are several people here who might have been able to do it.”

Enomoto said casually, “If it’s your alibi, it has already fallen apart.” 

Tokizane’s expression turned grim.

“You were capable of carrying out the crime. On the other hand, if someone else is accountable for the crime, there will be an inexplicable contradiction.”

“Then have you solved the mystery of the locked room?”

Junko had already recovered from the blow. Enomoto nodded.

“Yes. However, it was not a conventional locked room. Even if we had tried to solve this puzzle spatially, it would have been impossible. To put it another way, it was a kind of time-delayed locked room, and it was time that the murderer twisted. The time we had been led to believe was in the right place all along was actually wrong. That’s all I can think of.”

“I suppose that means that this time, logic dictates that no other way of conceiving of it is possible,” Hikijii said smugly. “Now then, let’s begin the explanation. What exactly is the time we’ve been led to believe was right all along?”