King Rat by James Clavell Read Free Book Online Page A

he remembered. And now that he knew the game, he began to play with Grey. “Well,” he said worriedly, “it’s like any other poker game, Grey.”
    “Just explain how you play the game!” Grey thought that he had them in the lie.
    Peter Marlowe looked at him, his eyes flinty. The eggs were getting cold. “What are you trying to prove, Grey? Any fool knows that it’s four cards face up and one down — one in the hole.”
    A sigh fled through the room. Grey knew there was nothing he could do now. It would be his word against Marlowe’s, and he knew that even here in Changi he would have to do better than that. “That’s right,” he said grimly, looking from the King to Peter Marlowe. “Any fool knows that.” He handed the lighter back to the King. “See it’s put on the list.”
    “Yes, sir.” Now that it was over, the King allowed some of his relief to show.
    Grey looked at Peter Marlowe a last time, and the look was both a promise and a threat. “The old school tie would be very proud of you today,” he said with contempt, and he started out of the hut, Masters shuffling after him.
    Peter Marlowe stared after Grey, and when Grey had reached the door, he said just a little louder than was necessary to the King, still watching Grey, “Can I use your lighter - my fag’s out.” But Grey’s stride did not falter, nor did he look back. Good man, thought Peter Marlowe grimly, good nerves - good man to have on your side in a death battle. And an enemy to cherish.
    The King sat weakly in the electric silence and Peter Marlowe took the lighter from his slack hand and lit his cigarette. The King automatically found his packet of Kooas and stuck one in his lips and held it there, not feeling it. Peter Marlowe leaned across and snapped the lighter for the King. The King took a long time to focus on the flame and then he saw that Peter Marlowe’s hand was as unsteady as his own. He looked down the length of the hut where the men were like statues, staring back at him. He could feel the sweat-chill on his shoulders and the wetness of his shirt.
    There was a clattering of cans outside. Dino got up and looked out expectantly.
    “Chow,” he called out happily. The spell shattered and the men left the hut with their eating utensils. And Peter Marlowe and the King were quite alone.

Chapter 3
     
    The two men sat for a moment, gathering themselves. Then Peter Marlowe said shakily, “God, that was close!”
    “Yes,” the King said after an unhurried pause. Involuntarily, he shuddered again, then found his wallet and took out two ten-dollar bills and put them on the table. “Here,” he said, “this’ll do for now. But you’re on the payroll from here on in. Twenty a week.”
    “What?”
    “I’ll give you twenty a week.” The King thought a moment. “Guess you’re right,” he said agreeably and smiled. “It is worth more. We’ll make it thirty.” Then his eyes noticed the armband, so he added, “Sir.”
    “You can still call me Peter,” Peter Marlowe said, his voice edged. “And just for the books — I don’t want your money.” He got up and began to leave. “Thanks for the cigarette.”
    “Hey, wait a minute,” the King said, astonished. “What the hell’s gotten into you?”
    Peter Marlowe stared down at the King and the anger flickered his eyes. “What the hell do you think I am? Take your money, and shove it.”
    “Something wrong with my money?”
    “No. Only your manners!”
    “Since when has manners got anything to do with money?”
    Peter Marlowe abruptly turned to go. The King jumped up and stood between Peter Marlowe and the door.
    “Just a minute,” he said and his voice was taut. “I want to know something. Why did you cover up for me?”
    “Well, that’s obvious, isn’t it? I dropped you in the creek. I couldn’t leave you holding the baby. What do you think I am?”
    “I don’t know. I’m trying to find out.”
    “It was my mistake. I’m sorry.”
    “You got