King Rat

And Grey knew instinctively that if it wasn’t now, it was never. Samson had never said much to him before. Perhaps, he thought desperately, perhaps I can give him enough to start him off and I can still catch them. Deals took hours sometimes. Worth the risk!

“Be glad to now, if you wish, sir. But not too long, if you don’t mind. I’ve a little headache. A few minutes if you don’t mind.”

“Good.” Colonel Samson was very happy. He took Grey’s arm and led him back towards his hut. “You know, Grey, your regiment was one of my favorites. Did an excellent job. You got a mention in dispatches, didn’t you? At Kota Bharu?”

“No, sir.” By God, I should have though. “There was no time to send in requests for decorations. Not that I was entitled to one any more than anyone.” He meant it. Lot of the men deserved VC’s and they would never get so much as a mention. Not now.

“You never can tell, Grey,” said Samson. “Perhaps after the war we can rehash a lot of things.”

He sat Grey down. “Now, just what was the state of the battle lines when you arrived in Singapore?”

“I regret to tell my friend,” Peter Marlowe said for the King, “that the miserable owner of this watch laughed at me. He told me that the very least he would take was twenty-six hundred dollars. I am even ashamed to tell it to thee, but because thou art my friend, of necessity I must tell it.”

Torusumi was obviously chagrined. Through Peter Marlowe, they talked about the weather and the lack of food, and Torusumi showed them a creased and battered photo of his wife and three children and told them a little about his life in his village just outside Seoul and how he earned his living as a farmer, even though he had a minor university degree, and how he hated war. He told them how he himself hated the Japanese, how all the Koreans hated their Japanese overlords. Koreans are not even allowed in the Japanese army, he said. They’re second-class citizens and have no voice in anything and can be kicked about at the whim of the lowest Japanese.

And so they talked until at length Torusumi got up. He took his rifle back from Peter Marlowe, who all the time had held it, obsessed with the thought that it was loaded and how easy it would be to kill. But for what reason? And what then?

“I will tell my friend one last thing, because I don’t like to see thee empty-handed with no profit on this stench-filled night, and would ask thee to consult with the greedy owner of this miserable watch. Twenty-one hundred!”

“But with respect, I must remind my friend that the miserable owner, who is a colonel, and as such a man of no humor, said he would only take twenty-six. I know you would not wish for him to spit upon me.”

“True. But with deference I would suggest that at least thou shouldst allow him the opportunity to refuse a last offer, given in true friendship, wherein I have no profit myself. And perhaps give him the opportunity to recant his uncouthness.”

“I will try because thou art my friend.”

The King left Peter Marlowe and the Korean. The time passed and they waited. Peter Marlowe listened to the story of how Torusumi was pressed into the service and how he had no stomach for war.

Then the King climbed down from the window.

“The man is a pig, a whore of no honor. He spat upon me and said he would spread the word that I was a bad businessman, that he would put me in jail before he would accept less than twenty-four—”

Torusumi raved and threatened. The King sat quietly and thought, Jesus, I’ve lost my touch, I pushed him too far this time, and Peter Marlowe thought, Christ, why the hell did I have to get mixed up in this?

“Twenty-two,” Torusumi spat.

The King shrugged helplessly, beaten.

“Tell him okay,” he grumbled to Peter Marlowe. “He’s too tough for me. Tell him I’ll have to give up my goddamned commission to make up the difference. The son of a bitch won’t accept a penny less. But where the hell’s my profit in that?”

“Thou art a man of iron,” Peter Marlowe said for the King. “I will tell the miserable owner colonel that he can have his price, but to do this I will have to give up my commission to make up the difference between the price that thou hast offered and the price that he, miserable man, will accept. But where is my profit in that? Business is honorable, but even between friends there should be profit on both sides.”

“Because thou art my friend, I will add one hundred. Then thy face is saved and the next time thou needst not take the business of so avaricious and miserly a patron.”

“I thank thee. Thou art cleverer than I.”

The King handed over the watch in its little chamois case and counted the money from the huge roll of new counterfeit bills. Twenty-two hundred were in a neat pile. Then Torusumi handed over the extra hundred. Smiling. He had outsmarted the King, whose reputation as a fine businessman was common knowledge among all the guards. He could sell the Omega easily for five thousand dollars. Well, at least three-five. Not a bad profit for one guard duty.