The Decagon House Murders

by Yukito Ayatsuji

  “Aha.”

  “And with a sly smile on his face, our ‘Murderer’ will commit one crime after another. So, just a big murder game.”

  “Oh, a murder game.”

  “It might be a stupid idea, but it makes a lot more sense than us all cowering in fear because we think a series of actual murders have been announced ahead of time.”

  “True,” agreed Van. “It’s not as if we’re characters in a story. Murders don’t just happen like that. Yes, I’m sure you’re right. But Poe, who do you think is behind this game then?”

  “Well, the one most likely to come up with such a game is Ellery, of course. But he seems to be taking on the role of ‘the Detective’.”

  “Now you mention it, do you remember Ellery yelling ‘Anybody want to challenge me?’ yesterday? This might be an answer to that.”

  “I don’t know about that,” said Poe. “If you’re right, that would mean that ‘the Murderer’ is one of the three people who were there when he said that: you, me or Leroux. But those plates this morning had to have been made in advance, didn’t they?”

  “I see what you mean. And the only people besides Ellery who might plan a prank like this are Leroux or Agatha…”

  “But it still could be Ellery. Think of all those plots where the detective turns out to be the murderer.”

  “The way Ellery took control of the situation this morning was rather too impressive…”

  “Hmm—and the thermometer, Van?”

  “Ah, I’d forgotten about that.”

  Van sat up straight and took the thermometer out from under his cardigan. He looked at it, frowned and handed it to Poe.

  “You really do have a fever.”

  Poe looked at Van’s face.

  “Your lips look dry as well. How’s your head?”

  “Hurts a little.”

  “You need rest today. Got any medicine?”

  “I’ve got some over-the-counter drugs for a cold.”

  “They’ll do. You’d better go to bed early today. You don’t want it to get any worse while you’re on a trip.”

  “I’ll do as you say, Doctor,” answered Van in a hoarse voice, as he fell back on the bed and stared vacantly at the ceiling.

  Having cleaned up after lunch, Agatha and Orczy made themselves some tea and took a rest in the hall.

  “Oof, will it be like this for six days? I can’t believe cooking for seven is so much work.”

  Agatha leant back in her chair.

  “Look, Orczy, my hands are all rough from the washing-up liquid.”

  “I’ve got some hand cream.”

  “Me too. I can’t get enough of that stuff.”

  “You really have a lady’s hands.”

  Agatha grinned and loosened the scarf that held her hair. Orczy gave her a slight smile back, grasped the decagonal cup in her small hands and took a sip.

  “Orczy.”

  Agatha looked in the direction of the kitchen and suddenly changed the topic.

  “What do you think those plates mean?”

  Orczy shuddered and shook her head silently.

  “It was really scary this morning,” Agatha continued, “but after I thought about it, it really might just be a joke. What do you think?”

  “I don’t know.” Orczy looked around anxiously. “Everyone says they don’t know anything about it, even though there’s nothing to hide if it’s just a joke…”

  “That’s precisely it.”

  “Wha-?…”

  “Maybe we just took it too seriously. In other words, the one who did it felt guilty about having pulled a prank.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, who do you think the culprit is?”

  “…”

  “It might be Ellery,” Agatha went on. “But he isn’t the type to feel guilty about anything, so we can rule him out. Maybe it’s little Leroux.”

  “Leroux?”

  “You know how he is. Leroux’s head is always full of detective fiction. He probably thought it’d be funny to frighten us all with such a jape.”

  Orczy looked away, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. She shrank down uncomfortably into her chair.

  “I’m scared,” she mumbled, so quietly she could have been talking to herself.

  Those were her true thoughts. Those plates—she simply couldn’t believe it was just an innocent joke. She could sense some kind of malice behind them.

  “We shouldn’t have come to this island after all.”

  “Don’t say such things.”

  Agatha laughed cheerfully.

  “Let’s go out and breathe in some fresh air after our tea. This hall is gloomy, even in the afternoon. There’s a peculiar atmosphere here, because of these ten walls around us. It makes you worry more than necessary about little things.”

  Sitting on the pier in the inlet, Ellery stared down into the depths.

  “I still think it’s weird, don’t you, Ellery?” said Leroux, who was standing next to him.

  “What?”

  “You know what I mean. Those plates this morning.”

  “Oh.”

  “You really weren’t the one behind it?”

  “Stop joking.”

  They had been like this for some time. Leroux would say something and Ellery would just answer vaguely, without even bothering to look at him.

  “But it would be just like you to prepare those plates, even for ‘the Detective’ and ‘the Murderer’.”

  “I know nothing about them.”

  “Don’t act so cross. I was just saying it would be like you.”

  Leroux shrugged his round shoulders and crouched down.

  “But it was probably just a prank. Don’t you think so?”

  “No,” answered Ellery bluntly, and shoved his hands in his coat pockets. “I’d really like to think so, but I don’t.”

  “So why do you think it wasn’t?”

  “Because nobody admitted to it.”

  “That’s true.”

  “And too much effort went into it.”

  Ellery turned around and looked Leroux in the eye.

  “It’d be different if they had been written in pencil on pieces of paper. But someone has gone to the effort of cutting those plastic plates to the same size, preparing forms for the lettering and spraying the plates with red paint. I wouldn’t have done all that just to give you a little scare.”

  “But…” Leroux removed his glasses and started to wipe them clumsily. “Are you saying that there really will be murders?”

  “I think there’s a strong possibility.”

  “Bu… how can you say that so calmly? A murder… that means someone will die. Someone will be killed. And not just one person. If those plates are announcing all our murders in advance, then there’ll be five victims. It’s just unbelievable.”

  “Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?”

  “It is ridiculous. This isn’t a film or a novel. Those plates have the same role as the infamous Indian figurines, right? If ‘the Murderer’ kills ‘the Detective’ and commits suicide at the end, then it’ll be precisely like And Then There Were None.”

  “Apparently.”

  “And why should we be murdered anyway, Ellery?”

  “Why ask me?”

  After that, the two stared in silence at the waves crashing on the rocks. The waves were rougher and louder than the day before. The water was also darker.

  Eventually, Ellery stood up.

  “Leroux, I’m going back. It’s cold out here.”

  4

  The noise of waves resonated in the darkness overhead, sounding like the rough snoring of a giant. It served to increase their anxiety and their feel
ing of impending doom.

  The gloomy decagonal hall where they had just finished their dinner was dim in the weak light of the oil lamp.

  “They make me feel sick,” Agatha said after she had given everyone coffee. “These walls. My eyes hurt just from looking at them.”

  The ten white walls gleamed in the light of a single lamp. They were theoretically at a 144-degree angle to one another, but, depending on the light, the angles sometimes appeared wider and sometimes narrower. In contrast, the table in the centre of the room always retained its decagonal shape, which made the walls seem even more distorted.

  “Really, they make me dizzy.”

  Van rubbed his bloodshot eyes.

  “Go to bed early, Van. You still don’t look too well,” Poe admonished him.

  “Still feeling sick?” Agatha put a hand to Van’s forehead. “You have a fever. You need to go to bed, Van.”

  “I’m OK. It’s only seven o’clock.”

  “It’s not OK. We’re on an uninhabited island here. We don’t have a real doctor with us. What if your fever turns worse?”

  “…All right.”

  “Did you take some medicine?”

  “I’ll take it just before I go to bed. It makes you sleepy.”

  “Take it now and go to sleep then. Better safe than sorry.”

  “OK.”

  Van stood up reluctantly, like a child obeying his mother. Agatha brought a water jug and a glass from the kitchen and gave them to him.

  “Well, goodnight,” said Van, and he walked to the door of his room.

  But then…

  “What’re you planning to do, hiding in your dark little room so early?”

  It was Carr’s low, deep voice. Van’s hand, which was reaching for the doorknob, stopped in mid-air. He turned round.

  “I’m going to sleep, Carr.”

  “Well. And there I was thinking you were going to sharpen your knife.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Carr chuckled at Van’s angry question.

  “You know, I think that it was you who announced our murders this morning.”

  “Van, ignore him and go to sleep,” said Ellery.

  “Wait, Ellery,” Carr continued in an ingratiating voice. “Considering the circumstances, don’t you think that it’s only normal to suspect Van?”

  “Why?”

  “Think about it. In cases where several people gather in one place and they get killed one by one, the person behind it is usually the host or organizer.”

  “That’s just in mystery stories.”

  “And those plates announcing our murders were nothing more than props for this particular mystery story. He’s the one behind it. He’s our culprit. What’s wrong with assuming that it’s just like what happens in the books?”

  Carr thrust out his chin.

  “Anything to say, our dear host Van?”

  “Enough of your jokes.” Holding the jug and the glass in his hands, Van stamped his foot on the floor. “I didn’t invite you all here. I only told you that my uncle bought the place. The first person to mention it was our upcoming editor-in-chief, Leroux.”

  “He’s right. Leroux told me about it and I was the one who had the idea of us all coming here,” Ellery said angrily. “If you want to suspect Van, you’ll need to suspect me and Leroux too. Or else your reasoning lacks logic.”

  “Well, I don’t like ‘great detectives’ who spout deductions only after someone has been killed,” said Carr.

  Ellery tutted disdainfully, and went on:

  “And your theme of the host being the murderer is just too clichéd. It certainly won’t help you find a ‘great criminal’. If I were the culprit, I’d just have made use of the invitation sent to all of us.”

  “What nonsense!” exclaimed Poe, stubbing his half-smoked cigarette out violently. “Great detectives, great criminals—can’t you keep fiction separate from reality? Van, you don’t have to listen to this kooky lot. Go to sleep.”

  “Kooky?” Carr’s look hardened and he stamped his foot. “Who’s kooky?!”

  “Just try and use some common sense.” With a sour look on his face, Poe lit a new cigarette. “First of all, this discussion is absolutely useless. This isn’t the first time the seven of us have got together somewhere. Of course it’s possible that Van’s the culprit, and that he lured us all here using the delicious bait of the Decagon House. It could also have been Ellery or Leroux, who came up with the idea for the trip. Or you, Carr, might have been biding your time, waiting for the perfect chance to execute your plans. If we’re just arguing possibilities, we could go on for ages.”

  “Poe’s right,” said Agatha. “This argument isn’t going anywhere.”

  “Also,” said Poe as he calmly puffed smoke out of his mouth, “you all assume that those plates were indicating a murder, but don’t you think that’s just nonsense? All of us love the game called mystery fiction and we’re gathered on an island with a bloody backstory. Why can’t you just consider those plates a part of the whole picture?”

  Poe then expounded on the theory he’d proposed to Van in his room that afternoon.

  “That’s it, Poe!” Leroux clapped his hands excitedly.

  “Salt in our coffee?” Ellery put both his hands on his head and leant backwards on his chair. “If this really ends with a pinch of salt, I’ll take my hat off to our criminal for his sense of humour.”

  “Glad you all can still be so optimistic.” Carr stood up with a sullen look and stormed back to his own room.

  Van said “Goodnight” in a hoarse voice and then he, too, disappeared into his room.

  “I’m curious as to the identity of our murderer.” Agatha smiled at Orczy.

  “Ye-yes,” replied Orczy with downcast eyes.

  Ellery took the blue bicycle cards out of his pocket and fanned them out on the table.

  “All right, who will ‘the First Victim’ be? This game has become interesting.”

  It might have been simply a flight from fear. Every one of them had felt relieved by Poe’s theory. The choking anxiety that had hung in the air since the morning had suddenly been dispersed.

  However, there was one person on the island who knew that the words on the plates meant exactly what they said.

  FOUR

  The Second Day on the Mainland

  1

  The car went west on National Route 10.

  Kawaminami would occasionally steal a glance at Shimada Kiyoshi, sitting in the driver’s seat. With every glance, Kawaminami had to suppress the urge to burst out laughing. This eccentric third son of a Buddhist priest was driving a very ordinary red Familia. In contrast to the jeans and sweater outfit of yesterday, Shimada was wearing a dark-grey suit and sporting a pair of fancy saxe-blue sunglasses. Somehow Shimada’s personality enabled him to pull off the mismatched combination.

  The first name of the missing gardener’s wife was Masako, and she was still living in Ajimu, according to Shimada. He had managed to find out her address that morning and had made an appointment with her for the same afternoon.

  The car had left Beppu in the direction of the mountains and passed through the Myōban Hot Spring area.

  Tent-like structures made of straw could be seen on both sides of the narrow road. Smoke rose through gaps in the straw. The inhabitants were looking for mineral salt left by dried-up hot springs. The salt, known as “hot water flowers”, was used as a bathwater additive.

  They finally reached the slope that would lead them down into the Usa district.

  “And how did your work go, Conan?” asked Shimada.

  “Ah, sorry, I haven’t told you yet.”

  Kawaminami, who had been leaning on the passenger-side window watching the scenery go by, scratc
hed his head and straightened up in his seat.

  “There were some I couldn’t get hold of, but I think we can safely assume that everyone who was at the after-party has received the letter.”

  “OK. And how many of them have gone to the island?”

  “Some of them live on their own, so I’m not sure, but probably all of them except for Morisu and me, who left the party early.”

  “That suggests that something really is going on.”

  “I agree. But I think Morisu would challenge that assumption and say that we might be looking at it from the wrong end.”

  “The wrong end?”

  “Yes. Because it’s hardly a coincidence that the members who were present at the after-party are also the ones on the island. They’re members who often meet together anyway, and that’s why they went to the after-party and to the island together. So the fact they all got the letters and went on a trip to Tsunojima might mean nothing at all.”

  “That’s a peculiar way to think about it.”

  “Morisu is always careful. And he’s also very single-minded and that causes him to act even more cautiously, or something like that.”

  “But he gladly took on the role of detective last night.”

  “That’s true. Which shows that even he was startled by the letters. But he’s actually a very clever guy.”

  Kawaminami Taka’aki and Morisu Kyōichi had made a great team during the former’s time in the club.

  Kawaminami was always bursting with curiosity and energy. If something sparked his interest, he couldn’t stay still. But he was also quite aware that his own abundant curiosity could often prevent him from considering situations deeply enough. He also knew that, while his enthusiasm could flare up in a flash, he could also lose interest just as fast.

  Morisu, on the other hand, could feel passionate about things in a different way from Kawaminami, yet it was rare to see that side of him in his everyday life. He was the type who kept his thoughts to himself, thinking everything over until he was satisfied before taking any action. To Kawaminami, his friend Morisu was a wise advisor, who would stop him from making rash assumptions or jumping to wrong conclusions.