Nicholai glanced at Bao Dai but addressed his words to Solange. “Michel Guibert, formerly of Montpellier and Hong Kong.
The emperor noticed the
“Thank you, Your Excellency,” Nicholai said. “I’m starting a business – a manufactury.”
“Superb,” Bao Dai said. “And what will you manufacture?”
“I was thinking of marionettes,” Nicholai said, looking straight at Bao Dai. “You know… puppets.”
It was a deliberate insult and everyone who heard it knew it. But Bao Dai merely smiled and asked, “What sort of puppets?”
“French, I think,” Nicholai said. “Or do you think American?”
“I didn’t think the Americans were known for such things,” Solange said.
“Yes, their ventriloquists use them. They call them, let me think” – Nicholai looked directly at Bao Dai – “yes, ‘dummies.’ It’s quite clever, actually. The dummy appears to be talking but, of course, it’s really the ventriloquist. But if you didn’t know better, you’d swear that -”
“Yes, I think we understand the concept, monsieur,” Solange said, turning slightly to signal Bao Dai that she wished to move on.
“Well, best of luck in your business, Monsieur Guibert,” Bao Dai said. “If there is anything that we can do to facilitate your endeavor, I hope you will not hesitate to let us know. We always like to encourage entrepreneurs.”
“Yes, I’ve heard that,” Nicholai said. “Even as far away as Laos, they speak highly of your cooperative nature.”
Bao Dai’s eyelids closed for just a moment and then opened again. When they did, Nicholai saw that his eyes were black with repressed rage. “Do you gamble, Monsieur Guibert?”
“A bit, Your Excellency.”
“He just beat the house for a tidy little fortune,” Bay Vien said.
“Indeed?” Bao Dai said, raising his eyebrows. “Perhaps, then, you would like to join me in a private game?”
“I’d be honored.”
“I prefer games that match player against player.”
“As do I.”
“Good,” Bao Dai said. “Actually, I’ve become very fond of the American game of poker.”
Solange kept the frozen smile on her face, but Nicholai could tell that she was livid. She stared at him with a look that said
He smiled at her.
“It will be high stakes,” Bao Dai said, hoping to embarrass him.
Nicholai looked at Solange and answered, “I like high stakes.”
“No limits, actually,” Bao Dai added.
“Better.”
“I’ll get a table together,” Bay said, “in the private room.”
“Will you be joining us?” Nicholai asked Solange.
Word of the newcomer’s insult of Bao Dai and the impending poker game quickly spread through the house.
Bay Vien passed by Nicholai and muttered,
“I trust you to see that it isn’t.”
He walked over to the bar.
“Christ, man,” De Lhandes hissed, “are you out of your mind? Insulting the emperor. He’ll have your throat cut. But by the love my mother would have laded upon me had she not been so horrified at what emerged from her womb, you have balls, Guibert. Clanging, great, magnificent balls.”
“What are you doing?” Haverford asked.
“Playing poker,” Nicholai answered. “What are you doing?”
“Playing poker, I guess,” Haverford answered. He walked off to find Bay Vien.
Bay was a popular man. A few moments later, Bao Dai pulled him aside. “I want him broken. Every last piastre to his name.”
And De Lhandes said to anyone who would listen, “By the glossy belly of Buddha, would you not love to be in that room?”
118
SIX MEN SAT at the round table. Nicholai, Bao Dai, Bay Vien, Haverford, Signavi, and the dealer.
Bay Vien announced the rules – the casino would deal, but a buck would rotate from player to player to determine the order of betting and set the game. That “dealer” could choose between one of two games, seven- card stud or five-card draw, the latter with jacks or better to open. There would be no silliness such as wild cards, and jokers were cut from the deck. Importantly, there were no limits on raises or stakes.
Nicholai sat with a squat glass of single-malt scotch straight up and looked at Solange, who stood over Bao Dai’s shoulder like some kind of good-luck fetish. It was demeaning, he thought, demeaning and cheap and far beneath her.
Unless, he thought, she is playing a role that the Americans have cast her in. Just as you are playing a part in their melodrama. But what is her role?
Bao Dai neatly stacked his chips into several piles. Haverford sat to Nicholai’s left, Bay to his right.
They cut cards for first deal. Bay won and chose five-card draw.
Nicholai picked up his hand.
Two hours later, the room was full of stale smoke and fresh tension. Haverford was all but out, as was Bay Vien. Signavi had a modest stack of chips in front of him, but Nicholai and Bao Dai were the big winners and headed for a showdown.
Nicholai found the game itself tedious beyond description, as he had for three long years in prison listening to the American guards play endless rounds of the childish game. Poker lacked nuance and creativity and was painfully puerile when compared to Go. It was a simple matter of risk analysis and money management, and basic mathematics dictated that five players over the course of a certain number of deals would basically receive the same hands. In that sense it was remotely similar to Go, as it involved decisions as to when to be aggressive and when to yield.
Nevertheless, he found the one-on-one battle against Bao Dai compelling. He was surprised at how badly he wanted to take the emperor’s money and beat him in front of Solange.
Speaking of a lack of nuance, he thought.
He picked up his cards to see that the deal had given him a pair of queens and a pair of tens. It was enough to stay in the betting for the draw, and he threw his chips in as Bao Dai raised the betting.
He got his card, the ten of clubs.
Bao Dai opened and Nicholai saw him and raised him.
Haverford tossed his cards on the table. “Not my night.”
Signavi looked hard at Nicholai, whose face was placid and unreadable. He grunted in disdain and pushed his chips in.
Bao Dai smiled across the table. “You’re bluffing.”
“All right.”
The emperor called and raised.
Nicholai and Signavi both saw the bet.
