When they had finished the eggs, the King put some coffee on the hot plate and searched for his cigarettes. Then he remembered he had given them away, so he reached down and unlocked the black box.
'Here, try some of this,' Peter Marlowe said, offering his tobacco box.
'Thanks, but I can't stand the stuff. It plays hell with my throat.'
'Try it. It's been treated. I learned how from some Javanese.'
Dubiously the King took the cigarette box. The tobacco was the same cheap weed, but instead of being straw-yellow it was dark golden; instead of being dry it was moist and had a texture; instead of being odorless it smelled like tobacco, sweet-strong. He found his packet of rice papers and took an overgenerous amount of the treated weed. He rolled a sloppy tube and nipped off the protruding ends, dropping the excess tobacco carelessly on the floor.
Godalmighty, thought Peter Marlowe, I said try it, not take the bloody lot.
He knew he should have picked up the shreds of tobacco and put them back in the box, but he did not. Some things a chap can't do, he thought again.
The King snapped the lighter and they grinned together at the sight of it.
The King took a careful puff, then another. Then a deep inhale. 'But it's great,' he said astonished. 'Not as good as a Kooa - but this's —' He stopped and corrected himself. 'I mean it's not bad.'
'It's not bad at all.' Peter Marlowe laughed.
'How the hell do you do it?'
'Trade secret.'
The King knew he had a gold mine in his hands. 'I guess it's a long and involved process,' he said delicately.
'Oh, actually it's quite easy. You just soak the raw weed in tea, then squeeze it out. Then you sprinkle a little white sugar over it and knead it in, and when it's all absorbed, cook it gently in a frying pan over a low heat.
Keep turning it over or it'll spoil. You've got to get it just right. Not too dry and not too moist.'
The King was surprised that Peter Marlowe had told him the process so easily without making a deal first. Of course, he thought, he's just whetting my appetite. Can't be that easy or everyone'd be doing it. And he probably knows I'm the only one who could handle the deal.
'Just like that?' the King said smiling.
'Yes. Nothing to it really.'
The King could see a thriving business. Legitimate too. 'I suppose everyone in your hut cures their tobacco the same way.'
Peter Marlowe shook his head. 'I just do it for my unit. I've been teasing them for months, telling them all sorts of stories, but they've never worked out the exact way.'
The King's smile was huge. 'Then you're the only one who knows how to do it!'
'Oh no,' said Peter Marlowe and the King's heart sank. 'It's a native custom. They do it all over Java.'
The King brightened. 'But no one here knows about it, do they?'
'I don't know. I've really never thought about it.'
The King let the smoke dribble out of his nostrils and his mind worked rapidly. Oh yes, he told himself, this is my lucky day.
'Tell you what, Peter. I got a business proposition for you. You show me exactly how to do it, and I'll cut you in for —' He hesitated. 'Ten percent.'
'What?'
'All right. Twenty-five.'
'Twenty-five?'
'All right,' the King said, looking at Peter Marlowe with new respect.
'You're a hard trader and that's great. I'll organize the whole deal. We'll buy in bulk. We'll have to set up a factory. You can oversee production and I'll look after sales.' He stuck out his hand. 'We'll be partners — split right down the middle, fifty-fifty. It's a deal.'
Peter Marlowe stared down at the King's hand. Then he looked into his face. 'Oh no it's not!' he said decisively.
'Goddammit,' the King exploded. 'That's the fairest offer you'll ever get.
What could be fairer? I'm putting up the dough. I'll have to —' A sudden thought stopped him. 'Peter,' he said after a moment, hurt but not showing it, 'no one has to know we're partners. You just show me how to do it, and I'll see you get your share. You can trust me.'
'I know that,' Peter Marlowe said.
'Then we'll split fifty-fifty.' The King beamed.
'No we won't.'
'Jesus Christ,' the King said as he felt the screws applied. But he held his temper and thought about the deal. And the more he thought — he looked around to make sure that no one was listening. Then he dropped his voice and said hoarsely, 'Sixty-forty, and I've never offered that to anyone in my life. Sixty-forty it is.'
'No it isn't.'
'Isn't?' the King burst out, shocked. 'I've got to get something out of the deal. What the hell do you want for the process? Cash on the line?'
