The Search for the Dice Man by Luke Rhinehart Read Free Book Online

of his own study, but with one final ‘Of course’ he turned and strode with dignity from the room. As baffled as he, I sipped at my brandy and hoped I looked inscrutable.
    As soon as the door closed with the minutest of dignified ‘thumps’, Akito rose, strode to the window and stared out a brief moment at the glorious gardens. I couldn’t get over how Western Akito seemed; only his smooth olive complexion and slightly slanted eyes and inevitable collection of small bows identified him as Japanese. Otherwise, he was too large a man, too athletic, too handsome, and too interested in Kim to be a stereotypical Oriental. As I stared,the man suddenly wheeled and addressed me with a small bow and slight smile.
    ‘Why do you gamble with your firm’s money?’ he asked softly.
    My inscrutability, if it ever existed, was now shattered.
    ‘Gamble?’ I managed to reply.
    ‘You risk your firm’s money but guarantee profits to the clients. You can lose, the client cannot. Since no one can predict the direction of markets, you are gambling.’ Although Akito again bowed slightly and was still smiling, the content of his words was like an artillery barrage. I could feel myself flush.
    ‘Gamblers always lose,’ I now snapped back. ‘You may have noticed that I do not.’
    ‘True,’ said Mr Akito. ‘and we wish to know why you do not.’
    ‘Why?’ I echoed, again baffled. ‘Because I know what I’m doing. I use systems which –’
    ‘Excuse me,’ interrupted Mr Akito, ‘but systems are bullshit. Systems do not work. Systems are gambling.’
    He marched towards me across the deep carpet, his shiny narrow shoes sinking deeply in, as if he were crossing a lush lawn, and stopped a few feet away. Didn’t the man know that the Japanese hate confrontation, hate directness, believe in saving everyone’s face?
    ‘We have noticed how in your trading when one of your trades loses money it seems to be always relatively small amounts,’ Akito continued. ‘But then every now and then you put larger sums into a trade and inevitably it seems these trades turn out to be profitable. We are alone now. We wish to know how you manage to avoid losing.’
    Damn him! What the hell is he driving at!?
    ‘By hard work, damn it!’ I wanted to shout. And then I suddenly felt a quiet burst of joy: the bastards must really think I’m something if they suspect I must have a secret formula. Or did they think I was cheating in some way? Were they actually asking how I cheated?
    I relaxed and let a quiet smile appear on my never inscrutable face.
    ‘A lot of people would pay a lot of money to know the answer to that question,’ I announced.
    Akito, towering with un-Japanese bulk, looked down at me with intense scrutiny.
    ‘Yes,’ he finally said. ‘I believe they would.’ He continued to look down at me.
    ‘My official answer,’ I went on, ‘is that I have a knack for using some of the many technical systems for entering and leaving markets and for determining the amount of capital I put at risk for each trade.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Akito,‘a knack.’ He turned briefly to Mr Namamuri, who was sunk so low in his easy chair and was so engulfed in cigar smoke that when I first followed Akito’s gaze I thought it was a pile of smouldering rags with two shiny shoes attached. A voice miraculously emerged from the smoke.
    ‘We interested in buying your “knack”,’ the old man said, his round face and thick glasses emerging briefly from the haze, then fading.
    ‘But not,’ said Akito, turning to stare down at me again, ‘without having a clearer idea about what it is.’
    But it was only a knack! A lot of damned hard work, some sharp brains, and a knack! I managed to meet Akito’s blank gaze with my own nearest equivalent.
    ‘Perhaps you have some theories about my knack,’ I suggested.
    ‘Perhaps,’ said Akito.
    ‘Well?’
    Akito again turned to look at the older man, who from behind his cigar apparently released some smoke