Though I’ve read a fair few of the recent translations of Japanese crime fiction, until this point I’ve stuck to “honkaku” or works in that tradition. That is, ones inspired by Golden Age detective fiction. Tokyo Express (previously translated as “Points and Lines”) was to be my first venture into what initially displaced honkaku from the bookshelves – a more realistic, socially conscious type of crime fiction.

Having read it, I think I would have enjoyed the book more had I not been expecting that. The book certainly eschews the grotesque and dramatic style I’d seen in Seishi Yokomizo. The greatest difference I found is an opposite focus on culture. Rather than focusing on dying traditions and isolated communities, Matsumoto homes in on modernity and the transport links it brings with it – ones which bring even the remotest parts of Japan into reach from somewhere like Tokyo. What the book doesn’t do is explore social issues. Instead, it uses these transport links for a devious alibi puzzle that would impress even Freeman Wills Crofts with its sheer organizational bravado (and amount of trains).

The book begins with a short prologue, introducing us to a few characters, including Toki, one of the victims, and also Tatsuo Yasuda, a prominent businessman with ties to government corruption. From Yasuda’s behaviour here, any attentive reader will pick up that he has something to do with the deaths. In this way, it’s more of a howdunnit, since the “who” is so transparent early on. For the first part of the investigation, we readers are waiting for the investigators to catch up and discover the suspicious behaviour that we saw in the first chapter. The enjoyment comes from watching the police piece together the complicated scheme – and it is complicated indeed. It’s not just the scheme itself, though – the policemen themselves compel the interest through their dedication.
In fact these two are the most developed characters in a book which mostly seems uninterested in character – though Matsumoto does well sketching the personalities of witnesses in the short time they appear.

The local detective, Torigai, reminded me a bit of Columbo to be honest! He’s a dishevelled veteran officer who quietly pursues the case in his spare time. We also get glimpses of his family, and his interactions with them help put him on the right track.
I was surprised – and a little disappointed – that, once he hands the case off to Mihara, he no longer appears in the book except briefly by letter. I suppose it would have stretched credibility to have him tagging along.
Mihara is younger and even more dedicated than Torigai, going to (literally) great lengths to gather evidence and figure out his case. His enthusiasm for investigating is infectious. We learn little about him, but I did enjoy his habit of aimlessly riding trams about Tokyo in order to ponder the case.

I mentioned earlier that for the first part of the story we readers are waiting for the police to catch up. After this point, I believe the reader is not meant to be “ahead” of the police. However, there’s a slight snag, in that a modern reader will jump to a certain conclusion far quicker than Mihara. In this case it was frustrating and not satisfying to watch him struggling – even though I knew that I had to cut Matsumoto some slack, since a contemporary reader would likely have been just as baffled! It’s all part of the historical element of reading a novel from the past, and Tokyo Express definitely does give a great snapshot of a changing country.
It is true that towards the final third of the book, Mihara spends too much time spinning his investigative wheels for my liking, even after he figures out the crucial point.

This sudden slowness in pacing is odd, because once he really does figure it out, the wrap-up is amazingly quick. After watching Mihara painstakingly testing every link in the chain of an intricate alibi, the conclusion is merely summed up in a letter! The contents of that conclusion I think were very good – it turns out there were a few extra tricks up Matsumoto’s sleeve after all. But given the rest of the book, I kind of expected to see them being worked out! It’s like Matsumoto simply gave up on writing the story and decided to end it as quickly as possible. It’s a real shame, because the truth he reveals is quite chilling to contemplate. I did enjoy how the conclusion was not a perfect one – it felt in line with the realism the book was aiming for.

In the end, I enjoyed this in the same way I would a Freeman Wills Crofts novel – for the sheer thoroughness and persistence of the investigators doggedly piecing together a complex plot. Matsumoto sketches enough character and setting as he goes to give a strong overall impression of a changing country. I was a bit disappointed that it didn’t include the “social realism” I was curious about – maybe one day I’ll get to read that. But aside from some pacing stickiness and a weirdly rushed ending, this was a soothing and enjoyable read.

Other opinions:

Bitter Tea and Mystery
The Grandest Game in the World
The Invisible Event
Literary Potpourri
Mysteries Ahoy!