The Last Train

There are times when accidental finds prove to be the best book reading experiences. This was one of those, as I picked-up Michael Pronko’s series debut to fulfil a reading challenge. When an American man falls before a speeding commuter train in Tokyo, it does not garner that much shock in the Japanese capital, as suicide by rail is a common occurrence. However, Detective Hiroshi Shimizu is summoned to help with the investigation, more because of his knowledge of English than because anyone queries a crime. However, after viewing the video footage, Detective Shimizu notices a woman accompanied the man and it is not entirely certain if she might know something to help the investigation. Learning that this woman may have worked as a hostess at one of the many clubs around the city, Detective Shimizu begins sifting through them in the hopes of piecing things together and bringing some answers to the Americans. What begins as a simple inquiry soon explodes as many of the other ‘foreigner rail suicides’ have similar traits. Might there be a woman out there, targeting foreign businessmen and making their deaths look self-determined? The race is on, even after Detective Shimizu has a suspect in mind, as she is ready to start a new life on the other side of the world. Using the case to distract him from his own recent loses, Hiroshi Shimizu will stop at nothing while there is a killer on the loose. A well-developed police procedural with a Japanese flair, sure to entice those who enjoy something a little different in their reads.<br /><br />I have often found myself enjoying other international police procedurals that steer away from the traditional American story. While most of them also permit the reader to experience other linguistic and cultural experiences—read: translation and written by a national of the country used in the setting—Pronko writes effectively about Japan while being an American and knowing what appeals to that reading base. The Hiroshi Shimizu character is both the quintessential Japanese detective yet full of all things American. His backstory is one that bridges the two conflicting cultures, having been educated in the States and yet still holding his Japanese background close to the chest. Shimizu is also working through the recent deterioration of his relationship, using the case to distract him from great loss. His understanding of both cultures helps propel him through this case, while also entertaining the reader with each passing chapter. Pronko fills his novel with other interesting characters, all of whom help create the ultimate Japanese experience for the reader. This not only supports Hiroshi Shimizu, but also offers a flavourful addition to the narrative that I found highly unique. Taking what would (unfortunately) be a common occurrence in Japan and turning it into a criminal matter is a wonderful idea, giving the reader an inside look on the culture of Japanese understanding of suicide and the fast-pace nature of the city. Pronko immerses the reader in all things Japanese throughout, using words, customs, and cultural references to leave little doubt when the novel takes place. This is certainly a treat for lovers of police procedurals and should not be a book overlooked by those who want a wonderful read that does not diminish in its intensity.<br /><br />Kudos, Mr. Pronko, for a wonderful opening to this series. I will have to get my hands on the next novel to see what Detective Hiroshi Shimizu has in store for us next.<br /><br /><i>This book fulfils Topic #4:The Initial Hook in the Equinox #7 Reading Challenge.</i><br /><br />Love/hate the review? An ever-growing collection of others appears at: <br /><a target="_blank" rel="noopener nofollow" href="http://pecheyponderings.wordpress.com/">http://pecheyponderings.wordpress.com/</a><br /><br />A Book for All Seasons, a different sort of Book Challenge: <a target="_blank" rel="noopener nofollow" href="https://www.goodreads.com/group/show/248185-a-book-for-all-seasons">https://www.goodreads.com/group/show/...</a>

When I interviewed Michael on my blog last year, he described The Last Train as ‘more whydunit than whodunit’ and having now read the book I can certainly understood why he said that. Much of the excitement of the book comes from following detective Hiroshi Shimizu in his attempts to identify and track down the mysterious woman who committed the murder. The trail leads Hiroshi from the flashy malls and smart high-rise buildings to the decidedly seedier world of hostess clubs and bars. As the author explains, “…in the novel, I wanted to look beneath the surface. The giant skyscrapers and constant construction are amazing, but there’s a lot going on behind the go-go big-city bright-lights, and a lot of it not so good.”<br /><br />As the investigation progresses, Hiroshi begins to understand the threat he faces from vested interests who may be involved in the shady dealings he starts to uncover. He also starts to realise just what a clever and ruthless opponent he is up against and to get an inkling of the motivation that drives her. When the full facts are revealed you may find yourself questioning where true justice lies.<br /><br />What really sets The Last Train apart from other run-of-the-mill crime thrillers for me was its Tokyo setting. I loved learning all about Japanese culture and customs. Take this scene in which Hiroshi and his boss, Takamatsu, drink sake together in the traditional manner.<br /><br />‘The master pulled back a brown curtain over a glass-sided refrigerator filled with sake bottles. He pulled out two small chilled glasses from the top shelf and set these on the upper counter inside small, square, cedar wood boxes. The master shuffled the dozen or so bottles inside the fridge until he found the ones he wanted. Carrying these to the counter, he hoisted the large bottle of cold sake and, cradling it in the crook of his arm, poured out the clear, clean liquid. The sake flowed gently over the top of the lip of the glass into the box, arousing the aroma of cedar and fresh rice. He poured out sake from a different bottle for Hiroshi and placed both bottles on the counter so that each displayed the artful calligraphy of their labels.<br /><br />They bowed down like penitents to take the first sip without spilling. Then they plucked up the small, thumb-sized glasses for a silent toast before downing the second gulp. Finally, they poured the spill-over from the cedar box into the glass, took another sip, and set their half-full glasses back inside the wet cedar boxes.’<br /><br />The book cleverly brings to life the intriguing juxtaposition of ancient and modern that exists in Japan. So you have temples and prayer rituals, the elaborate customs for greeting and for drinking tea. But at the same time you have the modern malls full of shops selling up-to-the-minute designer goods and the latest technology, and the packed subways and neon-lit sidewalks of Roppongi.<br /><br />‘People streamed out of subway exits, slid out of taxis, and stepped off bus after bus. Hordes of office workers in dull gray pants and dark skirts blocked corners, shouting directions into their cell phones to those yet to arrive. Fashion-conscious hipsters, mini-skirted amateurs, and yakuza wannabes walked to their favourite places to play, eat, drink, or work.’<br /><br />The work culture with its emphasis on drinking with colleagues after work, to my eyes at least, seems particularly alien and the position of women quite regressive with real antipathy in some quarters towards women whose behaviour is considered ‘un-Japanese’.<br /><br />I really enjoyed The Last Train for both its compelling storyline and its use of Tokyo as a location. Luckily for me – and I suspect, other readers – the author is working on two further books in the series: Japan Hand, which explores the relationship between Japan and the American military bases; and Thai Girl in Tokyo, which has two great female characters navigating the dangers of Shibuya’s underground nightlife. Both books are due for publication in 2018.

What a unique story we are treated to in The Last Train. Great title incidentally and beautifully told with passion and pathos.<br />We quickly learn who is the murderer but we don’t get the why they kill other than an implied motive of financial gain.<br />The homicide department desperately needs the services of an English speaker as the case involves foreigners and Hiroshi fits the bill. He has not been out much in recent weeks mopping about in his special office all by himself, pleaded not to mix after his relationship breakdown. So the move into a more active role may help him plus he has good accounting skills and this case seems to involve large investments.<br />He is a very considered operator and the rest of the team quickly warm to him. His boss Takamatsu is a less open policeman with a whiff of corruption and irregularities in a previous case and their differences make for a good partnership. They socialise a great deal too, even before Hiroshi joined the murder squad and being Japan this involves wild nights on the town, too much alcohol and fuzzy recollections.<br />So the murderer. We follow their story in parallel with the investigation which is a good old fashioned police procedural but set in Tokyo.<br />This approach of the police being many steps behind the allusive assailant, coupled with the rich culture and Japanese life becoming so real, rising from each page ensures the novel is interesting and full of action and mystery.<br />We wonder how the killer acts with such little respect for life until their backstory is slowly shared.<br />We move from one of judgement to understanding and empathy as revenge seems to be the motive and a metering out of a different but deserved justice.<br />After Scandinavian Noir we seem to be able to access more stories which could be seen as a new trend and rediscovered writings forming Oriental Noir. I have read a number of novels now set in Japan. In The Last Train I gain a new author and fresh excitement into this alien world to me.<br />I love the culture here set around the world of clubs and nightspots where hostesses are the professional escorts and a rich tapestry of sex and intrigue abounds. A night out for the two detectives appears little different to the case they must pursue visiting clubs where no one is keen to assist the police.<br />The action and thrilling set pieces are brilliant transcribed into words that have energy and pace so the book rattled along like the many train journeys around the city. <br />I was left every time I picked up the story with fresh nuances and a desire to read on and solve the mystery of the case - not who did it but why.<br />A riveting read opening up a fresh vista of a foreign world. I loved the space for reflection, Chinese proverbs and personal growth through meditation and martial arts. I feel I have walked those streets, ate the simple meals and cowered as an express thundered through the station.

The question is not <i>Who</i> but <i>Why</i>? Why would a beautiful young Japanese woman murder a drunken middle-aged American businessman? Why would she not merely push him off the train platform, but instead hurls him bodily? Why would she then slip into a cab and alight at the Yushima Tenjin Shinto shrine where she offers up a prayer plaque?<br /><br />Michiko Suzuki. The name means nothing without a context, without a backstory. Author Michael Pronko supplies these incrementally with cryptic conversations and fragmented memories. Until some of the pieces fall in place, Michiko Suzuki remains an opaque presence: <i> “Her lips were set as rigid as a Noh mask.”</i> (Location 112)<br /><br />Detective Hiroshi Shimizu, in contrast, might be described as wearing his heart on his sleeve. Emotions overwhelm him. His long-term girlfriend, an American, has recently left him, unable to adapt to the reality of Japan behind the picturesque shrines and ceremonies. There are social expectations that cannot be ignored. Friendships entail obligations, and as a new hire in the Tokyo Police Department, Hiroshi has numerous obligations. She can't understand why he buries himself in work and spends long evenings drinking with colleagues.<br /><br />Educated in America, he is fluent in both the English language and the unspoken nuances of the western world. He was hired to work white collar crime, to liaison with law enforcement agencies outside of Japan. His expertise is in credit card fraud, theft, blackmail, embezzlement. However, a hard-drinking, chain-smoking, street-wise detective named Takamatsu has taken him under his wing to clue him into the sketchy underbelly of the city. Fed up, the girlfriend leaves and boxes of her packed possessions still fill the apartment. Hiroshi cannot summon the energy to ship the boxes. It would confirm the finality of his aloneness.<br /><br />When Takamatsu draws the train fatality case, he orders Hiroshi to the grisly scene at the platform. Repulsed, Hiroshi argues that surely this must be a case of suicide. Case closed. Takamatsu counters: <i> “Foreigners don't commit suicide ….Not in Tokyo anyway.”</i> (Location 245) Hiroshi argues: <i> “It looks like a suicide.”</i> Takamatsu counsels: <i> “'How things look and how they are...' Takamatsu shrugged.”</i> (Location 282) He has another reason for insisting on a thorough investigation. The authorities don't like mysterious deaths of wealthy foreigners. <br /><br />Amid the fragments of the victims body the police discover a packet of business cards which lead them to the <b>Roppongi</b>, a red light district vividly described by Pronko: <i> “The overhead writing in all the Japanese scripts, romaji, hiragana, katakana and kangi blurred with foreign words into a cross-word puzzle of decadence and desire. Light cascaded out of these mini-marquees that climbed the buildings like electric ivy.”</i> (Location 628) Behind the wealth and faux glamour are the discreetly hidden power brokers, fed by the money that pours into these venues. They are an invisible feudal network in a symbiotic relationship with the competing foreign businesses hungry for corporate intelligence and connections. <br /><br />Pronko draws a grim picture of this new Japan where small businesses are victimized by extortion, swallowed by developers, and destroyed by boom and bust cycles. Changing values and fractured social classes are illustrated in a simple conversation. The detectives interview an aged worker in one of the nearly defunct factories. The man is surly and reticent. One of the detectives, an ex-sumo wrestler named Sakaguchi, speaks up. <i> “Sakaguchi switched into his thick Osaka accent and said, 'This place reminds me of my uncle's shop. Shops like this built this country....You still machine parts here?....We made everything in our time.' The man said, his focus shifting toward Sakaguchi. 'Until the big companies cut our orders and let us rust to death.'”</i> (Location 3480) <br /><br />By far, the most intriguing character in this book is the beautiful murderer Michiko Suzuki. However, the supporting cast is a colorful collection as well. Takamatsu is deep into dangerous off-the-books undercover activities and displays an alarming lack of caution. Hiroshi finally gets an assistant named Akiko. She is sharp-witted and and resourceful. This is the first in what promises to be an entertaining and informative mystery series.

<strong>Thrilling, enthralling mystery</strong><br /><br />The Last Train is a sensational mystery that reveals an underside of Tokyo few people see. A suspensful page turner, The Last Train is filled with rich, complex characters. As the mystery unfolds, you feel like you're walking in Detective Hiroshi Shimizu's shoes, as he works to unravel not just the who, but why of the murders he's investigating. <br /><br /><br />The Last Train captures Tokyo life with crisp prose: "Out of the underpass, toward the station, people walked briskly in one homeward-bound herd."<br /><br /><br />The Last Train is an exciting, labyrinthine thriller. <br /><br />

I really liked the first half of this book . I really liked the different location it was set in. I thought the story moved at a good pace and that the dialogue was good and for the most part the story made sense. I liked the first half way more than the second half which lagged a little bit. I often don't like who the bad person is but in this book it did not bother me that much. I was not crazy about the back stories which brought down the book for me-they did affect the tempo. I thought the main characters were good. I just thought the difference from the first half to the second half was just too much back stories and I could only give this book 3.4 stars. It is not horrible and if you really need something to read and maybe you can give it a spin.

4.5 stars<br><br>A fine first effort by Pronko. Many parts of Japan come alive to me in this book for the first time, in spite of my interest and study of Japan for 50 years now. The author has lived in Japan for decades, and his authority about the culture and behaviour of people in Japan is superb.<br><br>The mystery is very good, while the villain is clearly seen from the first chapter. That this evil person slowly becomes more human, and even sympathetic, is a tribute to Pronko's skill.<br><br><i> As usual with my reviews, please first read the publisher’s blurb/summary of the book. Thank you.</i> <br><br>Michael Pronko<br><img src="https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/hostedimages/1578568078i/28743350._SY540_.jpg" class="gr-hostedUserImg" loading="lazy"><br><br>Very nice. The first third includes a somewhat haphazard investigation, slowly paced, along with terrific detailed descriptions of modern Japanese life, culture and homes. <br><br>In the second third, the real investigation begins to yield some results and the paces picks up. <br><br>In the final 1/3, our police heroes zero in on the villain, no longer a villain to us, and Hiroshi's sympathy for her is admirable.<br><br>Throughout there is fine prose, sometimes exquisite, and much of my favourite kind of character: <b>The Philosopher-detective. </b><br><br>A fine first effort.<br><br>Notes and some very fine quotes:<br><i>His overstuffed suit and rambling walk marked him as a foreigner, and a very drunk one. His knees popped and locked like a cheap robot with rundown batteries. He swayed from the booze inside him, or something more, beyond the fatigue and freedom of Tokyo.</i><br>-<br><i>His building was eight stories high and sat on a hill whose steep slope was tiring to climb at the end of a long day. In the morning, the angle seemed to rush him downhill toward work faster than he wanted. From below, the city looked gray on gray with the heavy rain, but once he was eight floors up, the nightscape of Tokyo unveiled itself like a glistening dream.</i><br>-<br><i>Everything was a trap if you looked at it closely—the boxes, framed photos, the apartment, his office. Sleeping in the office, on the sofa or waking up to take calls at all hours was like college dorm life, with the feeling that everything in life was still coming and nothing at all was yet settled.</i><br>-<br><i>As the body bag rolled past them, Takamatsu, Hiroshi, Sakaguchi, and the younger detectives all bowed their heads with their palms together in prayer. Each of the train workers folded their hands and bowed their heads as the body rolled down the platform, into the elevator and out to the waiting ambulance.</i><br>-<br><i>“As for motive,” continued Akiko, “If it’s a woman killing a man, I can think of a million reasons.”</i><br>-<br>We learn some background of the villain.<br><input type="checkbox" class="spoiler__control" aria-label="The following text has been marked spoiler. Toggle checkbox to reveal or hide." onchange="this.labels[0].setAttribute('aria-hidden', !this.checked);" id="f4a56137-ab65-469e-9ea8-6d44143b98ae" /><label aria-hidden="true" class="spoiler" for="f4a56137-ab65-469e-9ea8-6d44143b98ae"> <i>They picked her up from the pavement and carried her to the elevator that took them up to penthouse where they kept her for a few weeks. After that, she didn’t know where she was. A few months later, she didn’t care where or what she was.</i> </label><br>-<br><i>“Anguish rules most people’s lives. With their troubles as their main focus, they live off-balance and disordered.” Hiroshi looked down at the gravel. “I guess that’s why people become detectives. They want balance and order.” “That’s why people become monks, too!” The abbot smiled.</i><br>-<br>A lovely meeting with the abbot of the temple.<br><i>Looking across the courtyard, the abbot continued, “I instructed the young monks today to contemplate death as they worked.” <br>“You wanted them to learn about death?” <br>“I wanted them to learn from death.” <br>The abbot looked at Hiroshi with an intensity that made him turn away. “Death is a strict teacher, but the lessons are crucial.” <br>Hiroshi managed to look up at him again and replied, “It’s hard to learn about death, about desire.” <br>“It’s harder not to,” the abbot said, and turned and walked away. <br>Hiroshi bowed to the abbot’s receding figure. He stood there and felt the wind—moist with impending rain—blow across the temple grounds. He stood listening to the rustle of tree leaves and the clack of the ema swinging into place, wondering if his senses—the feel and sound and look of the world—were all an illusion, too.</i><br>-<br><i>“Falling leaves return to their roots,” he said, quoting a Chinese saying.</i><br>-<br><i>Sato sensei liked to talk about the Japanese spirit—part of the falling leaves returning to roots, he said—in old stories like the Chushingura with the 47 ronin, master-less samurai who avenged their master’s honor after waiting for years. He talked about how the soul of modern civilization—not just in Japan, but in America, too—had lost direction. <br>“Honorable revenge was necessary. It was a form of justice. But now,” he shook his head. “Now, who would notice?” <br>“Justice is still a matter of honor, isn’t it?” <br>“For those ronin, it was more important than death. They knew how to suffer small disgraces in pursuit of their goal.” <br>“But sensei,” Michiko protested. “In Japan, women have always been ronin.” <br>Sato sensei grunted, “Times have changed.” <br>“But that’s stayed the same,” she insisted. “Women are still in exile, enduring their suffering, waiting for their moment.”</i><br>-<br><i>Sei Shonagon’s The Pillow Book and the classic treatise of bushido—Hagakure, In the Shadow of Leaves.</i><br>-<br>Hiroshi finds the small, broken woman as she dies:<br><i>A small crystal bottle slipped partway out of her bag, broken open so the scent of lotus flowers drifted up as the perfume became diluted with blood and rain. Her face pointed skyward, untouched, her eyes closed into two gentle brushstrokes and for a moment her lips looked as flushed as if she’d just been kissed, turning pale as they cooled. Hiroshi leaned over her to push back a bloodied strand of hair. He brushed his fingers over her cheek, a moment’s comfort before her soul slipped away. He pulled her shawl over her as the raindrops washed her skin clean.</i><br>.</["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]></["br"]>

Ingeniously realized Tokyo police procedural about homicides masquerading as suicides by defenestration into oncoming trains. Reluctant Homicide Detective Hiroshi Shimizu soon knows the "who" perpetrating the murders but the interesting thrust of the book is the search for the "why". What I found entertaining was the stark originality of the characters and plot premise. It's most assuredly not a "me too" police procedural/serial killer hunt.

What ingredients do you need to cook up an engaging police procedural set in Tokyo? I’d say you ought to have a conflicted detective not sure what the hell he was doing. Perhaps he's reeling from a relationship gone sour, possibly on the verge of alcoholism, and wondering if he still could cut the mustard personally and professionally. You ought to have a victim that English-language readers could readily identify with, say an American businessman finding himself out of his depth in a strange foreign land. Throw in insights into life on the seedier side of Japan, say in the hostess bars and love hotels of Roppongi, and you’d have a pretty spicy dish. But what else would you need to set your creation apart from the rest? <br /><br />Ahh, a villain.<br /><br />And it’s the villain that marks Pronko’s first crime novel as something both familiar and surprising. Familiar because every hard-boiled tale needs a femme fatale, but surprising because this one, Michiko, is not your typical ninja-esque slinky-sleeved assassin as seen on TV. No. She’s a dutiful daughter, a respecter of the Japanese feminine ideal, but also independently minded, she's prepared to do whatever it takes to exact justice as she sees fit. To man up in a man’s world. No small order in Japan.<br /><br />As Pronko dishes up observations on life in Tokyo, we can’t help but learn what spices flavour the city, how crime is as much a consequence of a rigid society's ills as any individual's, and delicious ironies are sprinkled throughout. I chuckled when some sumo-sized thugs trying to intimidate our hero set off the overweight buzzer on a typically tiny Tokyo lift. And you’d be a cold fish indeed not to feel sympathy for the villain.<br /><br />Pronko spends a little too long tying up loose ends after the mystery is solved to my taste, but it's a small quibble to make of an accomplished first novel. And he has two more in the series being edited now. I’ll definitively be tucking in to the full course. Highly recommended for lovers of crime thrillers or anyone with an interest in Japan.<br /><br />I was lucky enough to interview the author, and he talked more about the experience of writing The Last Train at the link below. Enjoy!<br /><a target="_blank" rel="noopener nofollow" href="https://patricksherriff.com/2017/05/24/tokyo-professor-turns-to-crime-an-interview-with-michael-pronko/">https://patricksherriff.com/2017/05/2...</a>

This book was engaging enough to keep me turning the pages, but never enough to genuinely make me care about the characters and what was happening to them. There are a number of plot devices used as a shorthand for actual character development - broken relationships, corrupt cops, lascivious men ready to take advantage of hostesses, and the unpardonable sexual assault as character development for the female character. They do not fit well together into the whole and I was constantly taken out of the story every time the main character's ex-girlfriend is mentioned, indicating that I should feel the angst of the character even though there is not much in the writing to actually justify that. I kept reading the broadly predictable plot in the hope that the antagonist would get the nuance and depth that would make me want her to win. The poorly written sexual assault backstory isn't what she, and the readers, deserved.