The appeal of detective fiction is twofold. Not only does it offer an exciting narrative sprinkled with unexpected twists, but it also issues its reader a challenge: can you discover the culprit before the detective reveals them? In essence, detective fiction offers an ordinary reader the extraordinary fantasy of becoming, if only for a few hundred pages, as perceptive as a world-renowned detective. It makes sense that a medium like Interactive Fiction would contain a thriving subcategory of whodunit-themed games. The point of IF is to allow the player to embody a person they are not and experience a world that is vastly different than their own. Interactive Fiction takes detective fiction’s premise—become as brilliant as a famous sleuth!—and ups the ante; the only thing more enticing than solving a mystery before the detective is taking on the role of detective yourself.

What makes Christopher Huang’s spin on detective-IF, a game titled An Act of Murder, so interesting is that it turns the well-loved fantasy of detective fiction on its head. All the parts are there—the suspicious death, the sketchy characters, holes in alibis and ulterior motives—but the game’s tone and mechanics confine the player within the limitations of real-life detective work. The game makes no effort to hide the repetitive and meticulous procedure most detective fiction glosses over; yet, An Act of Murder won second place at the 13th Annual Interactive Fiction Competition and swept several categories at the 2007 XYZZY awards. Why was this remarkably ordinary and, at times, incredibly frustrating game met with such praise? I theorize that, by immersing the player in the truly mundane aspects of solving crime, Huang serves up a paradoxically authentic detective fantasy. A uniquely realistic take on the genre, An Act of Murder gives detective fiction lovers the experience didn’t know they wanted until they got it.

In its first few lines, An Act of Murder establishes a realistic setting and a realistic goal: determine the killer via legal means. The game opens with a debrief from Chief Inspector Duffy. He gives the player the details of the death and then heads “back to HQ,” promising to return in several hours to help you “make an arrest” (beginning of game). This is a strong departure from the lone wolf archetype most heroes of detective fiction fall into. Unlike Miss Marple and Sherlock Holmes, the player is not an independent ‘consulting detective’ for the police—the player is the police, plain and simple. More specifically, the player is part of a partnership within that team. Duffy’s promise to return indicates that his agreement with the player’s verdict will be important for the story. Thus, whatever conclusion the player reaches, they will need to be able to justify it with evidence and deduction. The game supports this assertion by roping off the upstairs portion of the house, telling the player “you can inspect the private upstairs rooms later, assuming Chief Inspector Duffy authorises it” (Central Hall). There will be no outrageous acts of borderline-legality in this game. The way to succeed is to be thorough and remain within the confines of the law, which presents a genuinely daunting challenge.

This is not to say An Act of Murder is devoid of fun. The game’s element of whimsy comes through in the playful character dialogue and vivid descriptions rather than through the plot. Huang has hidden several references and jokes throughout the rooms of the Gull Point residence. The name of the player character, Inspector Hugh Dunnet, is itself a reference to the detective fiction genre, often called “whodunit” stories. Gruff, morose Chief Inspector Duffy is another reference, this time to an inspector-like character in another work. Typing “xyzzy,” a well-known inside joke within the Interactive Fiction community, results in a bonus instant-death ending that changes depending on where the player character is when they type the phrase. These jokes both add flavor to the story and continuously break the fourth wall—something most detective fiction tries to avoid. In order to encourage the reader to piece clues together alongside the detective, these stories seek to create the most immersive, gripping narrative possible. Therein lies the strength of An Act of Murder‘s realistic framing. Huang describes Dunnett as “young, intense, and a little bit jaded” because that is how he wants the player to approach the story. As engaging as detective work can be, it is ultimately work. Catch the references, revel in the jokes, but at the end of the day, the player has a job to do: solve the crime. Huang makes sure the player never loses sight of this.

An Act of Murder likewise makes clever use of its mechanics, shaping them to mimic real-life restraints that detectives face. The game begins at 12am, and every turn the player takes advances the clock by 15 seconds (Foreword). As Chief Inspector Duffy’s return at 2am looms nearer, the clocks scattered throughout the Gull Point house amplify the pressure to talk to everyone and examine everything. This is not a book the player can put down and pick up at their leisure. In An Act of Murder, as in real life, the police only have so much time to dedicate to this one case. Every step counts: literally. Along with helpful items like the measuring tape and tide table, the player’s inventory also holds Hugh Dunnett’s notebook. Reading the notebook gives the player a list of every clue they have encountered, such as the alibis of every character and the time the murder occurred. This notebook mechanic defies the unrealistic genius-detective trope and allows the player to focus on solving the puzzle rather than pausing to record every clue themselves. In order to up the ante, Huang also adds a randomization element to this game. Each of the five suspects has a storyline where they are the killer. The identity of the killer is determined randomly at the start of each playthrough, meaning that different items and different character motivations emerge depending on which storyline has been chosen. Every character is suspicious at the start of every playthrough, which both mirrors the approach real detectives take as well as increases the game’s replay value.

The most realistic aspect of the game is also its most frustrating plotpoint. In order to end the game at all, let alone win, the player must make an arrest. Again, this is An Act of Murder making a point about the bureaucratic realities of true detective work—while detective stories can wrap up once the culprit has been discovered, real cases do not end when the evidence points to the likely culprit. There are years and years of legal proceedings still to come before any murders are considered solved. Another layer of real-life difficulty is added to this arrest mechanic; while Hugh Dunnett has the power to arrest any of the five suspects, in order to put the criminal behind bars, the player must provide Duffy with enough evidence to convict them. In An Act of Murder, it is possible to arrest the correct person—as indicated by Duffy’s agreement with your choice—but be unable to convict them due to a lack of evidence. Multiple reviews of this game criticize (and/or praise) this evidence requirement for being overly complex and seemingly unfair. After all, how is the player supposed to know how much evidence is enough to achieve the win state? This is another area where the realistic framing of An Act of Murder shines. There is no way to tell how much evidence one needs, both in this game and real life. It is the responsibility of the detective to gather as many details as they can in the hopes that this invisible ‘enough’ requirement will be reached. As frustrating as the arrest mechanic in this game can be, it showcases an often-overlooked reality of detective work. If it’s an authentic detective fantasy the players want, then it only makes sense that Huang gives it to them with life's unfairness intact.

In closing, I want to highlight how well-suited An Act of Murder is to its medium. Huang’s decision to write this story as an Interactive Fiction results in one of the most common pitfalls of the medium to blend right into the story. If a reader loses their patience with a novel, they can flip to the end and figure out the solution instantly. With Interactive Fiction, however, player frustration is usually a puzzle-killer. Spending too much time with no leads can cause players to abandon the game altogether. Hence the brillaince of the realistic-fantasy framework of An Act of Murder; getting stuck in the game lines up perfectly with getting stuck in real-life detective cases. Retracing one's steps across Gull Point and the surrounding rocky beach adds to the story instead of breaking it. This game challenges players to not only find as much evidence as possible, but to understand and contextualize that evidence. What pieces are missing? Who do I have the least information about? Which pieces of evidence link to one another, and which prompt further exploration or questioning? These are the kinds of questions detectives in crime fiction brood over in their silly hats and darkened rooms—and these are the same questions actual detectives ponder over their piles of crime scene photos and written statements. Where real life diverts from fiction, here, is who is doing this contextualization work: in novels, it is the author, the one who plans the narrative. In real life, it is the detective who must piece together the story and determine the culprit. So, in the case of a detective-IF, who do these questions fall to? I posit that Huang and the player are equally responsible for them. Huang has laid the groundwork for five different puzzles, but it is the tenacity of the player that results in a successful arrest.

Huang, Christopher. An Act of Murder. Ifdb.tads.org. 2007. Web. 6 Nov. 2019.