Isaac Asimov - Asimov's Mysteries

One thing is certain. Nothin g Priss would do at the billiard table could be accidental. He was an expert and the billiard ball did exactly what he wanted it to. I was standing right there. I saw him look at Bloom and then at the table as though he were judging angles.

I watched him hit that ball. I watched it bounce off the side of the table and move into the zero-gravity volume, heading in one particular direction.

For when Priss sent that ball toward the zero-gravity volume-and the tri-di films bear me out-it was already aimed directly at Bloom's heart! Accident? Coincidence?

…Murder?

A friend of mine after reading the above story suggested I change the title to 'Dirty Pool.' I have been tempted to do so but have refrained, for it seems too flippant a title for so grave a story -or perhaps I am just corroded with jealousy at not having thought of it first. But in either case, now that all the stories in this volume have been gone over, and I have experienced the memories to which each gave rise, all I can say is, 'Gee, it's great to be a science fiction writer.'