Pathway to Japanese Literature

I “It’s Mr. Separate Bill’s tab, you see… With all these young ladies around, I’m astonished not a single one has approached me! At least take the payment, won’t you?” He appeared thoroughly pleased with himself.

At the counter of Chinchintei, monopolizing the most conspicuous spot as if to catch everyone’s eye, an old gentleman was reveling in carefree ease. “Well, that will be 185 yen, please.”

The one saying this was a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old waitress. “185 yen? That’s cheap—surely you mean 850 yen?”

He thrust his amiable face—with its salt-and-pepper goatee tilted back—right up to the waitress's nose. "I haven't made any mistake—it's 185 yen." Deeming the situation troublesome, he scattered with a clatter the gold, silver, and copper coins he'd pulled from his pocket before the waitress who was ranting in a businesslike manner,

“Here, take as much as you like from these.” “Ah!” The waitress had every reason to be shocked: that handful of gold, silver, and copper coins consisted entirely of antiquated currency—koban oval coins, nibukin gold pieces, isshugin silver tokens, Tenpō coins from the Edo period, Bunkyū copper cash, komahiki coins with horse designs, even Ming Dynasty Eiraku coins—all jumbled together without a single modern coin mixed in.

“Oh, you mustn’t joke like that!” “These are all old-fashioned coins, aren’t they?” Perhaps sensing her opponent might be somewhat naive, the young waitress stood her ground.

“Hmm, this won’t do, will it? The trouble is, I’m out of cash today. Not that I’m trying to skip out on the bill, mind you—look here! I may not be some pilgrim Otsuru, but I’ve got koban coins aplenty…” “You mustn’t joke like that! Even without that, we sometimes end up getting stuck with Western or Chinese silver coins and get scolded by the cashier. If we were to accept koban or such, there’s no telling what would happen!”

“My apologies—it was entirely my fault. But listen—this is how it is. Collecting old coins is my hobby, you see—when I left home I’m certain I had plenty of proper money with me—but I got sidetracked by coins at two or three places along the way, and well—here we are. In this cloth purse, there’s not a single sen of post-Meiji coins left—ha ha ha! Surprised?” He tossed the empty cloth purse onto the pile of old coins and cackled dryly.

Around 1 p.m., when Chinchintei was at its busiest hour, this little farce instantly became a spectacle for the entire shop’s patrons. First of all, as the protagonist of this comedy, this coin collector had a most peculiar appearance. While his head wasn’t completely bald up to the left side, he appeared to be in his mid-fifties with a goatee, wearing an ill-fitting suit made from the most luxurious fabric—cut in the most unflattering way—that hung loosely on his frame, a necktie as large as a furoshiki wrapping cloth, and clenched a sailor’s pipe with a greasy stem between his teeth.

With this appearance so out of step with modern times, when he tossed koban and Tenpō coins onto the table, all the customers in the shop burst into cheers of delight. Even in Ginza, such an eccentric sight was rarely seen. “Ladies and gentlemen, you mustn’t laugh! I am Minami Ichitarou—secretary of the Old Coin Research Society, known by my artistic name Aisendō Rōjin! At home I’ve got enough money to feed to horses! If you doubt me, check the credit registry! This unassuming appearance hides a millionaire!... What’s 185 yen to me?...”

The old man—it was unclear how far this would escalate.

At that moment,

“Excuse me, this is terribly rude of me, but…”

The middle-aged distinguished gentleman who had been drinking tea at a neighboring table, seemingly unable to bear watching any longer, called out. “Wh-what is this about?” The old man turned his not-entirely-guileless face in that direction.

“This is terribly rude of me, but might I be permitted to settle that bill on your behalf?” “Th-that won’t do! You’re a perfect stranger! Minami Ichitarou doesn’t accept alms from others!” “It is by no means charity—you need only repay me at your earliest convenience.” “Ah! You’re a man who understands reason—excellent! I shall gratefully borrow these 185 yen then. As collateral—one Tenpō coin, an Eiraku coin and...”

“No, there’s no need for that. Since you serve as secretary of the Old Coin Research Society, I happen to have items requiring your expert appraisal. Might I trouble you to accompany me to my humble residence?” This gentleman—in stark contrast to old Minami—wore a morning coat of coarse fabric yet exquisite tailoring that clung perfectly to his frame, carried a red leather bag, and exuded an air of one whose pockets never lacked money nor whose eyes ever lost their crinkled smile.

II

As the train jostled them, the middle-aged gentleman spoke thus to old Minami Ichitarou. “...So that’s why there are a small number of old coins my master left me. I have heard that among old coins, there are pieces traded for thousands or even tens of thousands of yen apiece—but being a complete amateur in such matters, I cannot discern which ones hold value at all. Rather than hastily handing them over to merchants, I thought—if a renowned specialist such as yourself would appraise them and, should they hold value, kindly take them off my hands at a fair price—while it goes without saying for me, and though it may be impertinent to mention, it might prove mutually advantageous……”

“I see, I understand perfectly. Such propositions often yield major discoveries—exactly the sort of opportunity we collectors could only dream of…”

The train carrying the two of them was racing through an old suburban town.

“By the way—what exactly was your master’s name?” As if suddenly recalling, Old Man Minami inquired. “Haruyama Noboru… was his name.” “Ah! The illustrious Mr. Haruyama! Why, I know him well—Japan’s foremost authority on numismatics! To serve such an eminent gentleman must have been an honor! Now then—what precisely was your capacity in his household?” “I functioned as both butler and secretary, managing all affairs—he disdained involvement in petty details, as you might surmise.”

“Ah yes, Mr. Haruyama was as magnanimous as a feudal lord… By the way, isn’t it true that this same Mr. Haruyama has been missing for several months now?” “Indeed, for that very reason, even people such as ourselves find ourselves deeply troubled to such an extent that…”

He lowered his stern face and uttered the words gloomily. Though a hired servant, he was the butler of a millionaire—his character and bearing were truly splendid, as one would expect. “By the way, what about Mr. Haruyama’s heirs?” “That’s precisely the difficulty. Mr. Haruyama lived his entire life single, making old coins his companions—he had no wife, children, or siblings whatsoever. There are two distant relatives—one being a young man residing with his mother, and the other a young lady residing with her father—who have been living here since Master’s lifetime. Both hold equivalent legal standing, making it impossible to designate either as the rightful heir. However, since Master’s disappearance merely eight months ago, there remains a brief period before formalizing heirs through missing person proceedings. Within this timeframe, I alone find myself agonizing over whether to confirm Master’s survival or, failing that, at least discover his will.”

“I see—that is indeed a worrisome matter. Though the police must have been involved, it being unclear whether he’s alive or dead makes the whole affair most peculiar.” “Given his social standing, the police devoted their full efforts to the search, but they found not a single clue.” “As you may recall from the newspapers at the time, eight months ago one evening around ten o’clock, Master was escorted by Miss Yōko—this young lady of the family residing at the mansion—to his bedroom, which is a confirmed fact. But the following morning, when Mr. Kōichirō—a young man also residing at the mansion, locked in a standoff with Miss Yōko and her father—knocked on Master’s door for a matter of business, he found the room half-empty, with Master vanished without a trace.” “Then there was a great uproar—they enlisted the police’s assistance, summoned every renowned private detective, and scoured every blade of grass in their search—but they discovered nothing beyond that Master had apparently left in his sleepwear with slippers on his feet and that the front door had been left open.”

“Hmm, hmm. I seem to recall reading about that in the papers, and then...” “For a time, suspicions arose due to the inheritance dispute—falling upon Miss Yōko and her father as well as Mr. Kōichirō and his mother. While they do contest the inheritance rights, both parties are upstanding individuals who would never dream of harming anyone. The suspicions were soon dispelled, leaving us with no choice but to await the truth revealing itself in due course.”

“I see, I see. That must be quite troubling. Now then, what might your name be?” “Ah! My apologies for the belated introduction—I am the butler of the Haruyama household, Sakyō Michinosuke.”

At that moment, the train suddenly slowed down and pulled into the station. The two of them got off the train, passed through a few backstreets in the suburbs, and quietly entered through a magnificent large iron gate into a certain forest.

III Upon entering the gate, plantings flanked both sides, and proceeding about half a chō (approximately fifty meters) through them led to a Western-style grand entrance. As they proceeded straight ahead, two figures emerged from the shrubbery on either side—startled as if flung apart by some force—coming to stand on both sides of the entrance: to the right a beautiful young woman, to the left a strapping young man who appeared to be an athlete. The eyes of these two youths clashed like fire. “Those are the actual parties in the inheritance dispute. “To the right is Miss Yōko, to the left Mr. Kōichirō…”

Sakyō Michinosuke whispered this into old Minami’s ear.

“Yōko! What are you doing? You have no business looking at such a thieving tomcat of a man!”

The one who suddenly thrust his face out from the shrubbery was a sturdy, half-grayed old man—glaring around at Kōichirō while attempting to pull Yōko’s hand back toward the shrubbery without even grasping it. “What? A thieving cat?!” “Who on earth are you calling that?!” The young man involuntarily flared up and gripped the whip in his hand. He wore riding boots and dashing riding attire, slightly sweaty, appearing as though he had just returned from a long ride. “Mr. Kōichirō, now, now.” Sakyō Michinosuke, who had alighted after Old Man Minami, moved as if to grab the young man’s arm.

“You mustn’t lose your temper over this routine matter—with the other party being an elderly man and a young lady, it wouldn’t amount to a proper quarrel.”

“I understand that, but that old man says such rude things.” “Now now, such matters can be resolved among yourselves. Today I’ve brought a most peculiar guest. Let me introduce him—this is Mr. Kōichirō, and this is Old Man Minami.” “First time.” “A pleasure.” “Anyway, let’s head inside—I’ll prepare some tea.”

The three of them entered Sakyō Michinosuke’s butler’s room located behind the main house. Though called a butler’s room, as expected of the mansion of a renowned millionaire, its opulence was such that even an ordinary wealthy master could not hope to match it. The building was U-shaped, designed in a reinforced concrete fortress style. The front—that is, the base of the U—comprised the main house, where the missing master Haruyama Noboru had occupied the entire front section and the rear second floor. The right wing of the U-structure was rented by Yōko and her father, while the left wing housed Kōichirō and his mother. Though “Wu and Yue” might sound antiquated, to put it plainly, they lived under one connected roof as sworn enemies.

“Shall I show you the old coins right away?” When Sakyō Michinosuke offered a chair and spoke, Old Man Minami— “Yes, please do.” He leaned forward with such eagerness it seemed hands might spring from his throat. "My uncle was Japan’s foremost—no, world-renowned numismatist, so he was supposed to have possessed an extraordinary number of rare and valuable pieces. Yet when we looked after his death, not a single decent one remained. It’s truly baffling." While the young Kōichirō was telling Old Man Minami such things, Sakyō brought in two or three hundred old coins arranged in a glass case.

“I doubt there's anything of significance here, but please take a look anyway.” “Hmm… Indeed—there seem to be suitable ones here. If you wish to purchase them all… say 1,500 yen? How does that sound? If unsatisfactory… I could add another two or three hundred.” “What?! Are these really that valuable?” Even the dignified Sakyō Michinosuke seemed slightly flustered and thrown off balance. “Isn’t there a bit more?” “It’s not that there aren’t any more.”

“I’ll examine them properly later. By the way, while collecting old coins is one pastime of mine, I have another rather peculiar hobby.” “What sort of pastime might that be?” “To put it bluntly, it’s this detective hobby that’s become fashionable lately.” “Oh?” “I’m a detective.” “Just like Sherlock Holmes—strange how I can unravel major scandals that even the police can’t comprehend.” “Oh…” “Now now—that skeptical expression won’t do! If you doubt my detective skills, I’ll demonstrate by deducing your circumstances exactly as Sherlock Holmes could discern an owner’s traits from a mere hat or watch!”

“Mine?” “Exactly—your circumstances… You should only have your mother left, you’re quite fond of horses, and then…” “Enough already! If you’re wearing riding clothes, it’s obvious you like horses! As for having only a mother—you probably heard that from Mr. Sakyō.” “Amazing! Mr. Kōichirō here is an even greater detective than I am! Ha ha ha ha!”

“Ha ha ha ha”

Indeed, faced with such an extraordinary self-proclaimed detective before him, even Sakyō Michinosuke found himself bursting out involuntarily.

IV

Before long, the three of them proceeded together to Kōichirō’s residence. Within the over ten rooms of this mansion’s left wing, four or five had been allocated, and Kōichirō and his mother were living there. “This person is the detective?” Having been introduced by Butler Sakyō and her son Kōichirō, Kōichirō’s mother—who had paused her knitting—peered at Old Man Minami’s face through her reading glasses. “This person is the detecti—” Almost bursting out laughing, the old woman busily moved her knitting needles. With his goatee, ill-fitting Western clothes, a necktie as large as a wrapping cloth, and short trousers revealing blue socks—such an outfit that one might wonder how much effort it took to achieve such a ludicrously top-notch appearance—the fastidious old woman, upon seeing this utterly preposterous spectacle, found herself utterly at a loss over how to handle the laughter welling up from the pit of her stomach.

“There’s nothing I can’t figure out once I investigate.” Old Man Minami was not one to be surprised by such things; with the magnifying glass he had borrowed from Kōichirō in hand, he remained on all fours, thoroughly inspecting every corner from room to room. “Mr. Minami, the master’s disappearance happened eight months ago. Do you really think any traces could remain in such a place this late?” “At that time, the police came and meticulously investigated every nook and cranny, and since then, this room has been cleaned two hundred forty to fifty times.”

Having been cautioned by Butler Sakyō, “W-well, I see.” He straightened up and belatedly expressed admiration.

But Aizendō Old Man—also known as the amateur detective Minami Ichitarou—would not easily be deterred by such things. For a while, he tapped walls, stepped on floorboards, turned on lights, and peered behind picture frames in room after room, until—as if struck by a sudden idea— “By the way, what has become of Mr. Haruyama’s inheritance?” “That’s what’s strange about it.” Sakyō Michinosuke answered in a manner that suggested he had been waiting for this. “As for the real estate, there are no particular changes, but we simply cannot determine where the vast quantities of jewels, cash, securities, and such that are presumed to exist—along with an enormous number of old coins—are hidden.” “According to my estimate, I believe that would amount to a value of three million to five million yen.”

“Oh! That’s astonishing.” “By the way, experts have exhaustively researched every corner of this mansion for six months, and we’ve thoroughly investigated the banks and all other business partners, but we simply cannot find any trace of them.” “Were there any items left outside or kept in storage?” “There’s nothing.”

Kōichirō, who had been silently listening until now, chose this moment to interject into the two’s conversation, “There is one thing—that old coin and key.”

“What is that?”

When Old Man Minami pressed the point, Butler Sakyō interjected, “Allow me to explain—though this is an utterly trivial matter… Shortly before the master went missing, he summoned Mr. Kōichirō, myself, and Ms. Yōko, and handed over a small box with this command: ‘Should anything happen to me, open this…’” About a month after his disappearance, we recalled this matter, retrieved the entrusted small box from the safe, and opened it in the presence of three witnesses—only to find that just two peculiar items emerged from within. One was labeled for Ms. Yōko—a copper-made ancient Chinese coin with a handle end formed into a ring, flaring slightly like a sword blade at the tip and extending about four sun (approximately twelve centimeters) before being cut square—and the other was inscribed for Mr. Kōichirō: a charming silver key. “However, we have not the slightest idea where those old coins and key are meant to be used or what purpose they could possibly serve.”

“Hmm, interesting. Mr. Kōichirō—could you lend me that key for a moment?” Kōichirō looked between his mother’s and Sakyō’s faces but, seeing no particular sign of opposition, detached the small silver key from his watch chain and placed it on Old Man Minami’s palm. “And now, let us go visit the young lady and her father on the other side.” “Kōichirō!” As her son tried to follow after Old Man Minami and Sakyō, his mother called out in surprise to stop him.

“You must not go to such a place!” “…”

“If you go near such villains, nothing good will come of it. You must stop this at once.” He took off his glasses and set them gently atop the knitting, but across his face flitted a shadow of anger too complex to decipher.

5 Not long after that, Old Man Minami and Sakyō Michinosuke visited the room of Yōko and her father in the right wing of the building. “Who is this person, Mr. Sakyō?” “He is both a numismatics researcher and a detective—the gentleman known as Mr. Minami.” “A detective? What business brings you here?” “He says he wishes to investigate the master’s disappearance.” “Well, if that’s all there is to it, you should stop.” “Countless famous detectives spared neither time nor money in their research yet failed to solve this matter—and I mean no offense—but there’s no reason a person of your stature could possibly understand it.”

“Hmm.” The old detective Minami Aizendō also seemed about to be blown away in one fell swoop.

“Go away! Go away!” “Even though the folks on the other side showed me everything without hesitation, it’s rather disagreeable that you on this side refuse to show me anything.” “What preposterous things are you saying! If there’s something suspicious, I’ll let you see it. “I’ll let you inspect every corner to your heart’s content! That thieving cat from the other side must have put you up to some unnecessary scheme.” When he rang the bell, the daughter came out.

“This gentleman here is a detective—it’d be rude to laugh… Though I suppose expecting a young lady not to chuckle at such a figure might be asking too much… Heh.” The daughter could no longer contain herself and hid her face with a handkerchief. Old Man Minami, paying no heed to such details, persistently repeated the same things he had done in Kōichirō and his mother’s room, tilting his head as if deep in thought, but— “I would like to see the Chinese old coin left by Mr. Haruyama.”

When he said this, the daughter silently withdrew to her own room, brought out a slightly worn bronze sword-shaped old coin, and while watching her father’s nodding face, handed it to Old Man Minami.

“I’d like to borrow this for a day.” “If I refuse, you’ll drag that thieving cat from the other side into this. I don’t trust you, but it’s galling to be seen as more secretive than them—take it and be gone with you.” “That’s most kind.” Old Man Minami nonchalantly slid it into his hiding place. But then, turning around, “Ah yes—this is exquisite.” With hands behind his back and in the posture of examining the alcove’s single hanging scroll—what did he look at? He gazed intently at the face of Yōko, the daughter.

Bathed in the evening sun streaming through the window, the beauty of the young woman’s face—radiant against her wisteria-colored dress—was such that even someone other than Old Man Minami would have found themselves captivated. Dreamlike eyes, misty eyebrows, a nose as though carved from ivory, lips like ruby-jade—the endearing charm and refreshing purity of a modern girl overflowed across her face. “Huh…” The daughter fled in surprise. “Ha ha ha ha! No harm done—but tell me, Mr. Sakyō, I trust it won’t be an inconvenience if I impose on you here tonight? “Why, a long chair or even just a bed would suffice. I’d like to leisurely examine those old coins you possess over the course of the night and establish my own detective methodology… My house? “That’s no trouble—I’m quite accustomed to such things. Borrowing a telephone for a moment will suffice.”

Butler Sakyō’s unenthusiastic expression and Yōko’s father’s bitter countenance—such things did not enter the old detective’s eyes at all.

VI

At five minutes before noon the following day, Yōko, who had been watching the clock’s hands, said to her father: “Father, five minutes left!” “So you intend to go through with it?” “Er… er…” “Do you really think you can trust what that odd detective says?” “He may be somewhat peculiar in manner, but there’s something mysteriously persuasive about that gentleman. I simply can’t shake this feeling that we ought to heed his words and at least attempt this.”

“Hmm.” “Now, three minutes left.” “What am I supposed to do with this old coin?” “After moving the piano aside, there’s a small metal plate fixed to the wall. In its center is a groove large enough for the looped end of the old coin’s head. Insert the coin’s head there and turn it twice to the right—that’s what he instructed.” “Like this?” “Not yet, Father. You mustn’t turn it yet—there’s still one more minute.” “Are you certain?” “Now.”

The father still wore an uneasy expression, but urged by his daughter’s resolve, he inserted the head of the old coin into the groove of the brass plate and gave it two turns. Then, a section of wall—which they had always assumed to be mere wall—between two pillars, measuring about eighteen inches across, smoothly slid inward, revealing a pitch-dark passageway that gaped open before them.

“Father, let’s go.”

“Wait, Yōko.” “Yes, I feel I must do this. From the moment that foolish detective summoned me early this morning and told me to do this and that, I’ve been completely resolved.” Encouraged by his daughter’s resolve, the father immediately followed after her. A path so narrow one had to turn sideways to pass continued for three or four ken before opening onto a terrifyingly steep staircase that gaped at their feet as though descending into the very abyss.

“Are you sure?” “It’s a steep staircase—do be careful.” Guided by the flashlight’s beam, the father and daughter descended about thirty of those steps and emerged into a somewhat wider corridor. Even calling it wide, it was at best three shaku across—still enveloped in a terrifying darkness so complete one wouldn’t notice if their nose were pinched. After proceeding twenty to thirty ken down that corridor, the path led into a slightly wider dark room. The damp, unpleasant air assailed their noses—it seemed as though they might suffocate at any moment.

The dark room measured about sixteen square meters, with small entrances on both sides. Its four walls were built of stacked bricks and the entire floor made of concrete—constructed more sturdily and eerily than any prison. Yet strangely enough, at the room’s approximate center lay a six-foot-square iron plate. Fixed precisely at its midpoint was a silver tray approximately one foot across, which caught the flashlight’s beam and shone with brilliant radiance. When they suddenly noticed, from the other entrance directly across from them, a beam of light flashed through, and unmistakable human voices—

“Mother, are you all right?”

“Ugh, how ghastly! What a dreadful path this is! How can we trust anything that strange detective says?” “Well, I don’t know about that either. But somehow, that detective seemed to have everything figured out, so we had to do exactly as he instructed.” It was undoubtedly Kōichirō and his mother; realizing this, the expressions of Yōko and her father turned as cold as the iron plate lying beneath their feet.

When they illuminated each other with their flashlights and realized that the four adversaries had converged in this strange world of darkness, the thought—Had that foolish detective tricked them?—flashed through all four of their minds simultaneously. However, the case developed so rapidly that they had no time to think further. Before long, the scent of a cigar wafted in advance from the path down which Kōichirō and his mother had come—the aroma of a high-quality cigar in this cold, moldy underground chamber. What a strange combination that was!

“You might consider refraining from smoking.” It was Old Man Minami’s voice.

“No, please allow me this one thing—the air here is so damp and foul, I simply can’t endure it.”

It was Butler Sakyō’s voice.

“Oh, ladies and gentlemen—you’ve all assembled now! I am deeply grateful that you trusted my words and ventured out to such an eerie place.” Illuminated by three flashlights, the goateed Old Man Minami began to speak. “First, Miss Yōko—please lend me your old coin. I’ll place this on the silver tray…” On the silver tray was again a sword-shaped indentation about four inches long—matching the old coin—into which he snugly fit the bronze coin and firmly turned it to the right, causing the tray to pop off and reveal a small keyhole in its place.

“Now I’ll borrow Mr. Kōichirō’s key… Behold… Mr. Haruyama Noboru did not wish for these two heirs to quarrel—you understand, don’t you? This key and old coin—without both of them together, the secret vault could not be opened…… Mr. Haruyama left this coin and key divided between you—one each to Mr. Kōichirō and Miss Yōko—so that you would distribute the inheritance amicably.” Inserting the key into the small hole in the iron plate and giving it one twist, the massive iron plate slid smoothly sideways and disappeared, leaving behind a gaping square hole—a terrifying maw that abruptly opened wide.

“Now, don’t be startled.” When Old Man Minami directed his flashlight inside, there lay gold, silver, and jewels—contrary to expectations—along with a human corpse lying face down and a pitch-black bucket. “Ah!” Without surprise or fear, Yōko and the mother raised their voices.

“Look closely—this is the corpse of Mr. Haruyama Noboru, the missing master of this house. Due to air, humidity, and other factors, the remains have not decayed but have instead turned entirely into adipocere. However, observe carefully—there is a terrible contusion on the head, which makes it evident he was murdered.” “Eh?” “Ah.” “Don’t be alarmed—the criminal who brutally murdered Mr. Haruyama Noboru and threw him in here stole approximately five million yen’s worth of old coins, jewels, gold and silver, and securities that had been stored here.”

“Eh?” “Ah!”

In the underground darkness crackling with fear and astonishment, Old Man Minami—who had never imagined such cunning could exist—his voice now imbued with youthful vigor, delivered an unequivocal verdict.

Seven

“Who is the culprit?”

“I know exactly what happened—important evidence had been left beside the corpse.” “Who is it?” “He is here.” “What?” “That.” Where he pointed stood Sakyō Michinosuke—the butler once considered peerlessly upright—who, swiftly sensing the shifting tide, glared fiercely at Old Man Minami while edging backward to flee. “Hah! Old fool, meddling where you don’t belong—who the hell are you?” “Do you want to know?” “Hmm—the one who saw through this elaborate contraption couldn’t possibly be that nobody of a numismatist… Old Man Minami from who-knows-where.”

“Exactly.” “Who the hell are you?”

“Hanabusa Ichirou.” “Ah!”

The one who was surprised was not only Sakyō Michinosuke. No one could have possibly realized that the famous detective Hanabusa Ichirou had disguised himself as an elderly numismatist to infiltrate. “Hey Sakyō! What are you loitering around for? Trying to escape is futile—this mansion’s exits are all sealed tight, not even a crack for an ant to crawl through… If you’re a villain, act like one and surrender meekly!” “Hmph, Sakyō Michinosuke still won’t surrender!” “Very well, go ahead and act all high and mighty while you can. …As for how I knew—I discovered that the butler of the missing Mr. Haruyama visited Chinchintei every day without fail during tea time. So I scattered old coins across the table and staged an act.” “Since it’s been eight months since you murdered your master, you were just about to try converting the hidden old coins into cash—so you fell right into my trap, didn’t you?”

“Hmm.”

Sakyō Michinosuke gnashed teeth but swiftly leaped back,

“Now listen up, every last one of you! That barrel beside the corpse contains over a hundred pounds of gunpowder.” “I prepared for this moment eight months ago—what I planted back then has finally become useful, letting me seize the final trump card!” “Don’t move—don’t you dare come closer! This cigar I brought serves exactly this purpose. Toss it into that barrel, and this whole building gets blown to bits! The detective and the girl will all go down together—there!”

Brandishing the lit cigar, “Aaaah!”

The four men and women desperately scrambled to flee, but in the cramped basement from the start, there was no way they could get away now even if they made a commotion. “Hah! Drop dead!” The cigar shot into the hole—and straight into the barrel’s very center. “Wha—!” Crawling, tumbling, thrashing wildly—amidst the men and women, another deafening shriek erupted.

But no matter how much time passed, there was not only no explosion of gunpowder—there wasn’t so much as a fizzle.

“Hmph… Heh heh heh… HAHAHAHAHA!”

Hanabusa Ichirou finally burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” “Didn’t you notice I cleared out the gunpowder last night and filled it with mud instead?” “What?!” As Sakyō Michinosuke scrambled backward trying to flee, someone seized him from behind—flinging him away like a ball—and by the time they yanked him upright, the handcuffs were already fastened. “Oh? Causing you so much trouble.”

The six men and women—both good and evil—each lost in their own emotions, once again climbed the dark staircase and emerged into the light. Outside was a beautiful spring afternoon.

“Well then, everyone.” The famous detective Hanabusa Ichirou, without so much as turning around after saying this and still in his baggy clothes and goatee, attempted to have Sakyō Michinosuke taken away by his subordinate who had been waiting at the exit. “How did you discover that secret passage and underground vault? At least tell me that much before you go.”

When Kōichirō chased after him and asked, he stopped with a smile, “It’s nothing at all. When Mr. Haruyama went missing, I was away on official business and had no connection to the case, so I disguised myself as a numismatist researcher and infiltrated as a detective starting fresh.” “However, the first things I obtained were—as you all know—those old coins and the key. The previous investigators likely overlooked them, but in this case, those seemingly foolish little mementos became the most crucial clues.” “Putting on a foolish face, when I investigated both rooms, just as I expected, there were mysterious keyholes behind the piano and under the pillar clock.” “So after borrowing the old coins and key overnight, last night I stealthily entered the underground darkroom from your room.” “Opening the silver basins and iron plates was nothing difficult. When I looked inside the hole, there was adipocere and gunpowder, so I moved just the gunpowder outside and arranged for all involved parties to enter from both sides at noon today.” “There was no need to worry about them entering—the elderly folks were preoccupied with the inheritance matter, and Sakyō was nervously keeping watch, anxious that his crime might be exposed.” “The property Sakyō stole will likely surface soon, and getting him to confess won’t be any trouble…” “Is there still something you don’t understand…? How Sakyō could throw his master’s corpse and the gunpowder into the hole without knowing the secret passage or having the key…? …I pondered that myself, but seeing it firsthand makes it clearest. —At the bottom of that hole where the corpse lay, there was another path leading beneath the floor of the main building.” “After hiding the treasure, Mr. Haruyama had prepared materials intending to block that third secret passage. Knowing this, Sakyō used that passage to swap the treasure with the corpse, then sealed it afterward using the materials Mr. Haruyama had prepared.” “The path we took today was likely unknown even to Sakyō. As for the trick with the old coins and key—it was too whimsical for a clever villain like him to notice.” “Otherwise, he wouldn’t have nonchalantly descended into that darkroom with us—he must have assumed there was no way to open it from above anyway.” “Well? There’s no mistake in that, I presume.”

The detective glanced back at Sakyō, bound with rope, and said those words.

But after walking a few steps, he stopped again,

“Before we part, there’s one more thing I wish to caution you about.” “—Now, everyone.” “I particularly want the elderly folks to hear this.” “The inheritance and property disputes will likely settle down now—but while you elderly folks were blinded by material desires, the young people were delving into the spring of life.” “At first, I saw Kōichirō and Yōko exchanging glances at the entrance, and I realized the light burning in their eyes bore no resemblance to base material desires.” “To put it simply, while the elderly folks were engrossed in their inheritance dispute and mutually despising each other, a lovely love had budded in the hearts of the young pair, who had come to admire one another.” “Please unite the two of them and let them properly inherit this Haruyama family’s property—that is the only reward I ask to receive.”

Bathed in the setting sun, with the flushed faces of the young pair behind him, the famous detective Hanabusa Ichirou—still wearing Old Man Minami’s visage—departed nonchalantly.