THE MARK OF A CARELESS KILLER

Tadeo Kurobashi loved poetry, studied Samurai history, and operated his own software company. When they found him dead on the floor with a Samurai sword by his hand, it looked like hari-kiri. Except for one thing. An error in the ancient ritual pointed to . . .murder.

Growing up in Southeastern Arizona and going to school there as well, I learned almost nothing about the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II. When I moved to Seattle in the early 1980s, I was dismayed to discover this blind spot. I hoped that writing this story might cause a few people with similar blind spots to learn something.

I wrote this book as a work of fiction, but within days of its publication, a group of Japanese businessmen set up shop in the Bellevue Red Lion and advertised for people who may have come home from World War II with Samurai swords to bring the weapons by to be evaluated and possibly purchased for return to Japan as cultural treasures.

Speaking of cultural treasures, if you have visited Seattle without trying the Pecos Pit Barbecue on South First Avenue, you’re missing a treat. It’s only open during weekdays, from 11:30 to 2:30 or so (depending on when they run out of beef!) and you can count on standing in line, rain or shine, but it’s well worth the trip and waiting in line. Just tell them Beau sent you. They’ll know what you mean. Warning: Order your barbecue mild unless you have asbestos-lined taste buds.

PS. Warning: to all readers who are experts in Appaloosa horses. I already have several letters in hand setting me straight. I now know quite definitively that Appaloosas are pure-bred as opposed to thorough-bred. Please don’t tell me again.

JAJ