Grey went to the hiding place just in case there was a message for him in the can. And there was. Major Prouty’s watch. Tonight. Marlowe and him.
Grey tossed the can back into the ditch as casually as he had picked it up. Then, stretching, he got up and walked back towards Hut Sixteen. But all the time his mind worked with computer speed.
Marlowe and the King. They’ll be in the “shop” behind the American hut. Prouty. Which one? Major! Is he the one with the Artillery? Or the Aussie? Come on, Grey, he asked himself irritably, where’s the card index mind you’re so proud of? Got him! Hut Eleven! Little man! Pioneers! Aussie!
Is he connected with Larkin? No. Not to my knowledge. An Aussie. Then why not through that Aussie black-marketeer Tiny Timsen? Why the King? Maybe it’s too big for Timsen to handle. Or maybe it’s stolen property — more likely, for then Prouty wouldn’t use regular Aussie channels. That’s more like it.
Grey glanced at his watch. He did it instinctively, even though he had not had a watch for three years, even though he needed no watch to tell the time or gauge the hour of the night. Like all of them, he knew the time, as much of time as it was necessary to know.
It’s too early yet, he thought. The guards don’t change yet awhile. And when they did, from his hut he would be able to see the old guard plod the camp, way up the road, past his hut toward the guardhouse. The man to watch’ll be the new guard. Who is it? Who cares? I’ll know soon enough. Safer to wait and watch until the time, then swoop. Carefully. Just interrupt them politely. See the guard with the King and Marlowe. Better to see them when the money changes hands or when the King hands over the money to Prouty. Then a report to Colonel Smedly-Taylor: “Last night I witnessed an interchange of money,” or just as good: “I saw the American corporal and Flight Lieutenant Marlowe, DFC — Hut Sixteen — with a Korean guard. I have reason to believe that Major Prouty, Pioneers, was involved and provided the watch for sale.”
That would do it. The regulations, he thought happily, were clear and defined: “No sales to guards!” Caught in the act. Then there would be a court-martial.
A court-martial to begin with. Then my jail, my little jail. With no extras and no katchang idju-bully. No nothing. Only caged, caged like the rats you are. Then to be let go — angry and hating. And angry men make mistakes. And the next time, perhaps Yoshima would be waiting. Better let the Japs do their own work — to help them isn’t right. Perhaps in this case it would be all right. But no. Just a nudge, perhaps?
I’ll pay you back, Peter Bloody Marlowe. Maybe sooner than I’d hoped. And my revenge on you and that crook will be ecstasy.
The King glanced at his watch. Nine-four. Any second now. One thing about the Japs, you always knew to the instant what they were going to do, for once a timetable had been set, it was set.
Then he heard the footsteps. Torusumi rounded the corner of the hut and came quickly under the lee of the curtain. The King rose to greet him. Peter Marlowe, also under the curtain, got up reluctantly, hating himself.
Torusumi was a character among the guards. Quite well-known. Dangerous and unpredictable. He had a face where most of them were faceless. He had been with the camp for a year or more. He liked to work the POW’s hard and keep them in the sun and shout at them and kick them when the mood was on him.
“Tabe,” said the King, grinning. “Like smoke?” He offered some raw Java tobacco.
Torusumi showed his gold-proud teeth and handed Peter Marlowe his rifle and sat down. He pulled out a pack of Kooas and offered them to the King, who accepted one. Then the Korean looked at Peter Marlowe.
“Ichi-bon friend,” said the King.
Torusumi grunted, showed teeth, sucked his breath in and offered a cigarette.
Peter Marlowe hesitated. “Take it, Peter,” the King said.
Peter Marlowe obeyed, and the guard sat down at the little table.
“Tell him,” said the King to Peter Marlowe, “that he’s welcome.”
“My friend says that thou art welcome and he is pleasured to see thee here.”
“Ah, I thank thee. Does my worthy friend have anything for me?”
“He asks have you anything for him?”
“Tell him exactly what I say, Peter. Be exact.”
“I’ll have to put it in the vernacular. You can’t translate exactly.”
“That’s okay — but make sure it’s right — and take your time.”
The King passed over the watch. Peter Marlowe noticed with surprise that it was like new, freshly burnished, a new plastic watch face, and in a neat little chamois leather case.
“Tell him this — a guy I know wants to sell it. But it’s expensive, and maybe not what he wants.”
Even Peter Marlowe saw the glint of avarice in the Korean’s eyes as he took the watch out of the case and held it to his ear, grunted casually and put it back on the table.
Peter Marlowe translated the Korean’s reply. “Hast thou something else? I regret that Omegas are not bringing much in Singapore these days.”
“Thy Malay is exceptionally good, sir,” Torusumi added to Peter Marlowe, politely sucking the air past his teeth.
“I thank thee,” Peter Marlowe said grudgingly.
“What’d he say, Peter?”
“Just that I spoke Malay well, that’s all.”
“Oh! Well, tell him I’m sorry, but that’s all I’ve got.”
The King waited until this had been translated, then smiled and shrugged and picked up the watch and put it into its case and back in his pocket, and got up. “Salamat!” he said.
Torusumi showed his teeth once more, then indicated that the King should sit. “It is not that I want the watch,” he said to the King. “But because thou art my friend and thou hast taken much trouble, I should inquire what does the man who owns this insignificant watch want for it?”
“Three thousand dollars,” the King replied. “I’m sorry it’s overpriced.”
“Truly it is overpriced. The owner has sickness in his head. I am a poor man, only a guard, yet because we have done business in the past and to do thee a favor I will offer three hundred dollars.”
“I regret. I dare not. I have heard that there are other buyers who would pay a more reasonable price through other intermediaries. I agree that thou art a poor man and should not offer money for so insignificant a watch. Of course, Omegas are not worth much money, but in deference to the owner thou wouldst understand it would be an insult to offer him anything less than a second-class watch is worth.”
“That is true. Perhaps I should increase the price, for even a poor man has honor, and it would be honorable to try to alleviate any man’s suffering in these trying times. Four hundred.”
“I thank your concern for my acquaintance. But this watch — being an Omega — and being that the price of Omegas has fallen from their accepted high place previously, obviously there is a more definite reason for thou not wanting to do business with me. A man of honor is always honorable — ”
“I, too, am a man of honor. I had no wish to impugn thy reputation and the reputation of your acquaintance who owns the watch. Perhaps I should risk my reputation and try to see if I could persuade those miserable Chinese merchants with whom I have to deal to give a fair price once in their miserable existences. I’m sure that thou wilt agree, five hundred would be the maximum a fair and honorable man could go for an Omega, even before their price dropped.”
“True, my friend. But I have a thought for thee. Perhaps the prices of Omegas have not dropped from their ichi-bon position. Perhaps the miserly Chinese are mistakenly taking advantage of a man of honor. Why, only last week another of thy Korean friends came to me and bought such a watch and paid three thousand dollars for it. I only offered it to thee because of my long friendship and trust that pertains as between associates of long standing.”