The Search for the Dice Man by Luke Rhinehart Page A

tense, wary Honoria found themselves facing a large, white-haired lady wearing along brown dress with a black shawl thrown over her upper half. She peered at them through thick glasses and then smiled warmly.
    ‘My, how you’ve grown,’ she said, as if imitating every ancient relative since the beginning of time. ‘I’d never have recognized you if you hadn’t phoned first. How’s your father?’
    Of course that’s what Larry wanted to know, so her asking was a bit of a setback. But Arlene didn’t seem to expect an answer and went babbling happily on about the good old days and wasn’t it a shame and sugar? milk? or lemon? in the tea. As Arlene bustled away towards her tiny kitchen Larry and Honoria exchanged discouraged looks from the deep ancient armchairs they found themselves buried in.
    When Arlene had returned she served them lukewarm tea with some stale Stella Dora biscuits. Then with a loud groan she settled herself down into the overstuffed couch.
    ‘The arthritis does get to one over the years,’ she said. ‘I hope it hasn’t hit poor Luke.
    ‘We were wondering where Dr Rhinehart might be,’ said Honoria, wanting to get to the point. ‘Have you heard from him recently?’
    ‘Oh, no,’ said Arlene ‘Luke hasn’t written or phoned me in years and years. He has to lie low, you know. The police are after him.’
    ‘We know,’ said Honoria. ‘Where was he the last time he wrote or phoned?’
    ‘Oh, that was years ago,’ said Arlene, looking off into space. ‘I’m sure he’s moved since then.’
    ‘Where was it?’ asked Larry.
    ‘Oh, here in New York, I guess,’ Arlene answered. ‘It’s all rather vague now. He wasn’t much for precision.’
    ‘Where’s your husband?’ Honoria asked.
    ‘Oh, Jake’s down south, I think,’ said Arlene. ‘He’s become a guru or priest or something, I hear, but still writing books. He’ll never stop writing books.’
    ‘I see,’ said Honoria.
    ‘He always wanted to be a king or a president, but I guess he’s had to settle for a smaller kingdom.’
    ‘And where exactly in the south?’ asked Larry.
    ‘Well, now, let me see,’ said Arlene, frowning. ‘A little town in Virginia I think. Not even on the map. Lukedom. Jake named it after your father.’
    Larry and Honoria both sat up straighter in their chairs.
    ‘Do you know where it is?’ asked Honoria.
    ‘Oh, my, no,’ said Arlene. ‘Jake says it’s not on any map. That’s why he had to send me instructions about how to get there.’
    ‘You have instructions about how to get there!?’ said Larry.
    Arlene looked surprised.
    ‘My goodness, that’s right,’ she said. ‘I guess I do. I never went, so I never even bothered to read them, but I know he sent them. I wonder what I did with that letter.’
    While Larry and Honoria sat on the edge of their chairs – or as close as the deep, broken-springed chairs would permit – and exchanged glances, Arlene bumbled up off the couch to putter around her desk, mumbling happy apologies for her sloppiness and finally returning with a big smile and a letter.
    ‘See,’ she said. ‘I told you Jake had written instructions and here they are.’ She adjusted her glasses and peered down at the paper. ‘Lukedom. Dirt-road route to Lukedom. Were you thinking of visiting Jake?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Honoria. ‘Larry is interested in seeing his father and we thought this tittle village might have some people in it – Dr Ecstein, for example – who might have some idea where he is.’
    ‘How nice!’ said Arlene. ‘You’re going to see your father! Do say hello to him for me and tell that naughty man to write.’
    Larry nodded, and a few minutes later, sketchmap in hand, he and Honoria said goodbye to Arlene. She wantedto have them take some of the stale Stella Dora cookies and offered to throw in some son of frozen pie she had made the previous year, but they politely declined. She told them to give Jake a big kiss for her and tell him she