Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net MURDER IN BLACK LETTER POUL ANDERSON THE MACMILLAN COMPANY NEW YORK · CHICAGO DALLAS · ATLANTA · SAN FRANCISCO LONDON · MANILA IN CANADA BRETT-MACMILLAN LTD. GALT, ONTARIO _New York_ THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1960 POUL ANDERSON 1960 [Transcriber's Note: Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] All rights reserved--no part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in magazine or newspaper. _First Printing_ Library of Congress catalog card number: 59-5690 The Macmillan Company, New York Brett-Macmillan Ltd., Galt, Ontario Printed in the United States of America _To him whom I shall ever regard as the best and wisest man whom I have ever known_ DISCLAIMER Except, of course, for Taffimai Metallumai, all characters in this book are fictitious, without intentional resemblance to any actual person, living or dead. The events described are made up out of whole cloth. The hotels, restaurants, companies, and other business enterprises herein mentioned are equally nonexistent. Two real institutions occur: the University of California and the Berkeley Police Department. There is no implication intended that either of these would condone all the actions and opinions of the imaginary people I have wished onto their payrolls. 1 Steel talked between roses. Kintyre parried Yamamura's slash; his riposte thumped on the other man's arm. "Touché!" exclaimed the detective. He took off his mask and wiped sweat from a long, high-cheeked face. "Or is it you who's supposed to say that? Anyhow, enough for today." "You're not doing so badly, Trig," Kintyre told him. "And I have some revenge due for all those times you've had me cartwheeling through the air, down at the dojo." Trygve Yamamura clicked his tongue. He stood over six feet tall, lanky, the Oriental half of him showing mostly in narrow black eyes and smoked-amber skin. "You would use sabers, wouldn't you?" he said. Robert Kintyre shrugged. "A foil is for women and I'm not fast enough for an épée. Also, there's professional interest. A saber is a wee bit closer to the Renaissance weapon." "I think I'll stick to Japanese swords."