Double-Crossing Delancey Read Online Free

sights. The nameplate on his desk made him out to be one Mr. Rajesh Shah.
     
    “Thank you for seeing us without an appointment, Mr. Shah,” I said. I sat in one of the chairs on the customer’s side of the desk and Charlie took the other. Rajesh Shah had stood to shake our hands when we came in; now he sat again, eyebrows raised expectantly. His white turban and short-sleeved white shirt gleamed against his dark skin. “I’m sure you’re a very busy man and I don’t mean to be impolite, popping in like this,” I went on, “but we have some business to discuss with you. I’m Lydia Chin; perhaps you’ve heard of me.”
     
    Shah’s bearded face formed into an expression of regret. “It is I who find, to my despair, that I am in a position to be impolite. Your name is not, alas, familiar. A fault of mine, I am quite sure. Please enlighten me.”
     
    Well, that would be like Joe: giving away as little as possible, even to his business partner. Controlling the information minimizes the chance of error, misstep, or deliberate double-cross. As, for example, what Charlie and I were up to right now.
     
    On a similar principle, I introduced Charlie by his first name only. Then I launched right into the piece I had come to say. “I believe you’re acquainted with Joe Delancey.”
     
    Shah smiled. “It is impossible to be doing business in this neighborhood and not make the acquaintance of Mr. Delancey.”
     
    “It’s also impossible to actually do business with Mr. Delancey and come out ahead.”
     
    “This may be true,” Shah acknowledged, non-committal.
     
    “Believe me, it is.” I reorganized myself in the chair. “Mr. Delancey recently offered me a business proposition which was attractive,” I said. “Except that he’s involved in it. I won’t do business with him. But if you yourself are interested in discussing importing Indian lychee nuts, I’m prepared to listen.”
     
    Rajesh Shah’s eyebrows went up once again. He looked from me to Charlie. “The Indian government is forbidding the export of lychee nuts to the USA. This is until certain import restrictions involving Indian goods have been re-evaluated by your government.”
     
    “I know the US doesn’t get Indian lychees,” I said. “Like most Chinese people, Indian lychees have only been a legend to me. But Joe gave me a couple yesterday. They were every bit as good as I’d heard.” I glanced at Charlie, who smiled and nodded vigorously. “Joe also gave me to understand you had found a way around the trade restrictions.”
     
    “You are a very blunt speaker, Miss Chin.”
     
    “I’m a believer in free speech, Mr. Shah, and also in free trade. It’s ridiculous to me that lychees as good as this should be kept from people who would enjoy them — and would be willing to pay for them — while two governments who claim to be friendly to each other carry on like children.”
     
    Shah smiled. “I myself have seven children, Miss Chin. I find there is a wisdom in children that is often lacking in governments. What do you propose?”
     
    “I propose whatever Joe proposed, but without Joe.”
     
    “This will not please Mr. Delancey.”
     
    “Pleasing Mr. Delancey is low on my list of things to do. You have to decide for yourself, of course, whether the money we stand to make is worth getting on Joe’s bad side for.”
     
    “As to that, Mr. Delancey may be ubiquitous in this neighborhood but he is in no way omnipotent.”
     
    Charlie had been following our English with a frown of intense concentration. Now his eyes flew wide. I smothered my smile so as not to embarrass him, and made a mental note to teach him those words later.
     
    “Charlie here,” I said to Shah, “has some money he’s saved. Not a lot of money, I have to warn you, just a few thousand. Joe talked about putting up half: I think you’ll have to assume more of the responsibility than that.”
     
    Shah gave a thoughtful nod, as though this were not