Þ – Mystery

ΠРRomance

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The envelope was made from heavy cold-press paper; textured, but factory-made. The wax seal smelled faintly of cinnamon and carried a somewhat greasy film; cheap, scented candles. The name on the front of the envelope, Shinichi Kudou, was written, in English, with a felt-tipped calligraphy pen in sienna brown. 

The folded card within was stamped in jet black India ink:

あなた の ため だけ

Inside, a single train ticket and the following, hand-written in the same ink:

My Dearest Detective,

Your services are requested at my estate nestled deep in the mountains. A long-forgotten mystery awaits that only you can solve. Should you decide to attend, you must follow the enclosed instructions precisely as they are written. 

1. You may tell no one the details of this venture.
2. You may only bring a single bookbag worth of personal belongings.
3. You must come alone.
4. You must use the enclosed travel pass with the stamped date and time; further instruction will be waiting for you at the designated stop. Failure to do so will result in your immediate disqualification. 
5. Your stay is all-inclusive, expenses paid (including meals, room, basic materials/supplies, etc), for four days, three nights.
6. You will be compensated for your time based on your fee schedule (accounts to be settled upon arrival).

I do hope you see you there. It would be an honor to host you.

Sincerely,

The Benefactor

The ticket was marked for three days from then – Thursday, 11:35am -Tokyo Station to Takasaki Station on the JR Joetsu Shinkansen line. No further instruction was written. In fact, the only other thing about the envelope was that its postage stamp (with markings from the Gunma prefecture) had the following words carefully written along the edges: “Three can keep a secret…”

The lure had been cast. It was only the matter, then, of if the detective would take the bait… 

…

When a near-identical letter addressed to Saguru J Hakuba arrived in the post elsewhere, the half-brit detective examined it thoroughly at the dinner table.  He imagined the methods used were to add to the theme; to make it look aged, official. But it felt too forced. Too much thought into the outside appearance without using legitimate articles, only modern-day facsimiles. Still, the little hint at Benjamin Franklin had been a nice touch. He couldn’t help but be a bit curious…

“It’s probably just another invitation to a "fancy” dinner party, Baaya. Costumed, perhaps? Still, may as well give a look…“

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[photo credit x]