I listened thoughtfully. "So you're saying you want to create an insurance program for Japanese investors in case the price of Treasuries weakens?"
It made sense. If interest rates went up here, reducing the value of their government paper, then the price of his futures contracts would rise to offset the loss.
I glanced over at Japan's monetary guru, Akira Mori, who
was carefully examining her bronze fingernails. Was she the one behind all this sudden nervousness about America's financial health? What could these two know that we didn't, I wondered. It was all a bit mysterious.
One thing was no mystery, though. Whatever was going on with Matsuo Noda and Akira Mori gave me a very unsettled feeling.
"I'm flattered." I looked him over. "But afraid I'll have to pass. This fall I plan to take off for a while and . . . catch up on some personal matters that—"
"Mr. Walton," he cut in. "I would urge you not to lightly dismiss my proposal." He was staring back at me intensely. "I can only say for now that issues are involved . . . well, they encompass matters of grave international consequence." Another pause, followed by a noticeable hardening of tone. "Your other obligations cannot possibly be as important. It would be in your best interest to hear me out."
Want the truth? At that moment all my negative vibes about Matsuo Noda crystallized. He wasn't threatening me exactly. Or maybe he was. The large viewing room was all but empty now. Maybe he'd deliberately waited before getting down to his real agenda.
"My other 'obligations' happen to be very important to me just now."
"Then please consider rearranging them."