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Review
The genre listing for The Killings in Wasacona is one of those things that drifts right by you when you read it, but gets increasingly odd the more you think about it: “Crime Detective Mystery”. Combining these words in exactly this way feels natural at this point: stories where criminals are brought to justice by investigators who apply their intellects to solve the mysteries presented by their misdeeds are a dime a dozen. But I wonder how much of this seemingly-intuitive melding of the crime story and the brain-teaser would be left if we somehow were able to subtract the influence of a century of Sherlock Holmes? Real criminals, after all, are decidedly irrational, and are less often caught by an ineluctable web of deductions slowly closing in on them than by people they’ve pissed off ratting them out to the cops. On the flip side, the forensic methods used to identify and convict suspects frequently are just a patina of pseudo-science atop hunches and prejudice (if you ever want to make your blood run cold, read up on the people “arson investigation” has sent to Death Row). On this evidence, why would we think the messy, squalid stories of crime should render up their secrets if the detective does the equivalent of solving a sudoku?
These contradictions can be noted against just about any game in this capacious category, of course, but Killings in Wasacona raises them more than most, on both the cops and the robbers sides of the equation. The game offers a solid framework for building a mystery: as a rookie FBI agent, you’re brought in to help solve a trio of small-town deaths, at least two of which were clearly murders, in the course of a week. The interface shows potential investigative hot-spots on a map – the crime scenes, the houses of the victims and their families, and more – and once you choose one to visit, typically chewing up an hour of the limited clock, you pick your way through conversational gambits, searches for evidence, or whatever else is needed to reveal clues. After time is up, the final passage helpfully sorts everything you’ve uncovered according to the different theories of the case that it supports, and based on what you’ve found you select the appropriate culprit and motive for each death.
Some details of this setup, it must be admitted, don’t make much sense (where’s the federal jurisdictional hook? Why are we sent out alone for fieldwork just days after graduation from Quantico? Why is everybody so tall, with the shortest victim being a woman who’s 5’10”?) but it’s a well-designed structure for a mystery investigation. Similarly, while the prose regularly veers into melodrama (the prologue narrating the first killing uses sentence fragments to illustrate the crime, culminating with “A new demonic visage. A face of fire. Teeth. Pupils. Hands”, which seems to imply the murderer’s hands are part of their face; meanwhile, the proprietor of a party house refers to the protagonist as a “square”, which, come on, it’s not 1957 anymore) and the writing occasionally drops details that don’t make sense (a down-on-his-luck drifter “looks twice his age”, which given that he’s 45 seems quite extreme; a co-worker of one of the victims volunteers, without prompting, details of her and her friends’ drug use), the story itself is generally fine, turning on reasonably-plausible small-town secrets and eventually encompassing a stereotypical but reasonably-drawn cast (there’s a racist cop, but the game and other characters recognize that’s a problem, e.g.)
As a mystery, though, I found it less satisfying than I wanted it to be; I was able to logic my way through most of the solution, but key details eluded me. Possibly this is just because I’m a bit of a dunderhead, but I do think those twin issues I flagged above played a role. Starting with the criminals’ side of the ledger, it’s difficult to get at least one, and possibly two, of the murders “right” because in those particular cases the motive of the killer is bizarre and self-defeating. Guessing that it was Moriarty who committed a crime, and sussing out his methods, is hard because he’s so smart, but equally, fingering Inspector Clouseau and identifying his M.O. is tough precisely because he’s an idiot. This isn’t necessarily unrealistic, certainly, but it does make the puzzle of solving the mystery less satisfying.
The methods of investigation are also not unproblematic. Clues are unlocked not primarily through player skill – there’s more than enough time to visit every relevant location in the game, and you generally don’t have too many options at any of them, so lawnmowering is relatively easy – but through character skill. Yes, Killings in Wasacona has RPG-style stats, which you set at the beginning of the game either by picking a pre-rolled archetype (jock, nerd, face, etc.) or manually setting your bonuses or penalties across five different investigative approaches. Frequently a choice will lead to a test of one of these skills, at which point you roll a d20, subject your character’s relevant modifier – if the sum is 11 or higher you succeed and get the clue, 10 or less and you fail.
The specifics of the implementation make me feel like this might be a mechanic derived from Dungeons and Dragons, but it’s notable that these kinds of approaches to clue-gathering are very much out of vogue in tabletop RPG circles: these days, the mechanics for mystery-focused games are likely to focus on resource allocation, like spending a limited pool of points to automatically succeed at certain rolls, and mitigate the impact of risk by allowing for rerolls or partial success. And my experience of Killings in Wasacona bore out the wisdom of this shift, as I didn’t roll above a 6 more than once in my first seven or eight rolls (and since none of my bonuses were above +3, that means I failed nearly all of them).
Admittedly, my luck eventually reverted to the mean, and I wound up getting some additional “morale” bonuses that made rolls much easier (oddly, I got these bonuses mainly by chasing red herring, suggesting that the most efficient course through the game is to start out wasting time on tangential matters so that your chances of success are optimized by the time you turn to the actual investigation). And again, cops miss stuff all the time. But it doesn’t make for a satisfying set of mechanics, and as I was scratching my head on the final screen trying to figure out the last details of my theory, it was unpleasant to think that I might not be able to fit the pieces together not from lack of trying, but because the RNG gods decreed I shouldn’t see the relevant clue.
All told this means I found Killings in Wasacona more successful at the “crime” part of the genre label than the “detective mystery” part. But the framework and overall presentation, modulo the dice-rolling, really were quite strong, and I have to admit there’s a dark charm to the Fargo-esque series of misadventures revealed at the end – I’d definitely sign up for a sequel using the same basic approach, but tighter writing and more intentional design.
