“It is well that you communicated with me, sir,” he said, “we were working at cross-purposes when, in reality, our interests were identical.”
Alcatrante bowed. “I came to that conclusion late last night,” he said. “I do not deny that it would have pleased me to carry the affair through by myself.”
“Yes, your position would then have been stronger.” The Japanese smiled faintly.
“But,” continued Alcatrante, with a slight grimace, “the activity of your men made that impossible. I have no lieutenants such as yours.” He shot an ugly gleam at Poritol, whose sudden assumption of fearsome humility was in strange contrast to his usual self-assurance.
“As we hold the documents”—the Japanese spoke with great distinctness—“you will necessarily admit our advantage. That means, you will understand, a smaller commission on the next contract.”
Alcatrante twisted his face into the semblance of a smile. “Not too small, or we cannot undertake the work,” he said.
“No, not too small,” the stranger agreed calmly, “but smaller than the last. You must not forget that there are others who would gladly do the same work.”
“Yes, but at best they cannot get the terms we get.”
“Possibly. That is a matter still to be determined. Meantime we have assumed that our interests in this document are identical. Let us test it.”
“One word first,” said Alcatrante. “I take it that, if our interests are sympathetic with yours, we may count on your protection?”