King Rat

Torusumi left the opened pack of Kooas and another full pack as compensation for the bad deal the King had made. After all, he thought, there’s a long war ahead, and business is good. And if the war is short—well, either way, the King would be a useful ally.

“You did very well, Peter.”

“I thought he was going to bust.”

“So did I. Make yourself at home, I’ll be back in a minute.”

The King found Prouty still in the shadows. He gave him nine hundred dollars, the amount that the bitterly unhappy major had reluctantly agreed to, and collected his commission, ninety dollars.

“Things are getting tougher every day,” the King said.

Yes, they are, you bastard, Prouty thought to himself. Still, eight-ten isn’t too bad for a phony Omega. He chuckled to himself that he’d taken the King.

“Terribly disappointed, Corporal. Last thing I owned.” Let’s see, he thought happily, it’ll take us a couple of weeks to get another in shape. Timsen, the Aussie, can handle the next sale.

Suddenly Prouty saw Grey approaching. He scuttled into the maze of huts, melding with the shadows, safe. The King vaulted through a window into the American hut and joined the poker game and hissed at Peter Marlowe, “Pick up the cards for Chrissake.” The two men whose places they had taken calmly kibitzed the game and watched the King deal out the stack of bills until there was a small pile in front of each man, and Grey stood in the doorway.

No one paid him any attention until the King looked up pleasantly. “Good evening. Sir.”

“Evening.” The sweat was running down Grey’s face. “That’s a lot of money.” Mother of God, I haven’t seen so much money in my life. Not all in one place. And what I couldn’t do with just a portion of it.

“We like to gamble, sir.”

Grey turned back into the night. God damn Samson to hell!

The men played a few hands until the all-clear was sounded. Then the King scooped up the money and gave each man a ten and they chorused their thanks. He gave Dino ten for each of the outside guards, jerked his head at Peter, and together they went back to his end of the hut.

“We deserve a cuppa Joe.” The King was a little tired. The strain of being on top was fatiguing. He stretched out on the bed and Peter Marlowe made the coffee.

“I feel I didn’t bring you much luck,” Peter Marlowe said quietly.

“Huh?”

“The sale. It didn’t go too well, did it?”

The King roared. “According to plan. Here,” he said, and peeled off a hundred and ten dollars and gave them to Peter Marlowe. “You owe me two bucks.”

“Two bucks?” He looked at the money. “What’s this for?”

“It’s your commission.”

“For what?”

“Jesus, you don’t think I’d put you to work for nothing, do you? What d’you take me for?”

“I said I was happy to do it. I’m not entitled to anything just for interpreting.”

“You’re crazy. A hundred and eight bucks—ten percent. It isn’t a handout. It’s yours. You earned it.”

“You’re the one who’s crazy. How in the hell can I earn a hundred and eight dollars from a sale of two thousand, two hundred dollars when that was the total price and there was no profit? I’m not taking the money he gave you.”

“You can’t use it? You or Mac or Larkin?”

“Of course I can. But that’s not fair. And I don’t understand why a hundred and eight dollars.”

“Peter, I don’t know how you’ve survived in this world up to now. Look, I’ll make it simple for you. I made ten hundred and eighty bucks on the deal. Ten percent is one hundred and eight. A hundred and ten less two is one hundred and eight. I gave you one hundred and ten. You owe me two bucks.”

“How in the hell did you make all that when—”

“I’ll tell you. Lesson number one in business. You buy cheap and sell dear, if you can. Take tonight, for instance.” The King happily explained how he had outfoxed Prouty. When he finished, Peter Marlowe was silent for a long time. Then he said, “It seems—well, that seems dishonest.”

“Nothing dishonest about it, Peter. All business is founded on the theory that you sell higher than you buy—or it costs you.”

“Yes. But doesn’t your—profit margin seem a little high?”

“Hell, no. We all knew the watch was a phony. Except Torusumi. You don’t mind screwing him, do you? Though he can off-load it on a Chinese, easy, for a profit.”

“I suppose not.”

“Right. Take Prouty. He was selling a phony. Maybe he’d stolen it, hell, I don’t know. But he got a poor price ’cause he wasn’t a good trader. If he’d had the guts to take the watch back and start down the street, then I’d have stopped him and upped the price. He could have bartered me. He doesn’t give a goddam in hell about me if the watch backfires. Part of the deal is that I always protect my customers—so Prouty’s safe and knows it—when I may be out on a limb.”

“What’ll you do when Torusumi finds out and does come back?”