i'll spare you the ritual.
pick it up. look at it.
seven years work by the finest engraver. mass produced, sequentially numbered. the best there has ever been, mr. conklin.
-- kobo.  i know. he killed two of my partners. one in new york, one at the printing plant.
i took kobo from the street. i gave him a home, a future.  but my ways were too slow for him.  i served seven years in prison for my boss when i was a young man. kobo wouldn't serve seven minutes for his oyabun. he was supposed to take over this syndicate when i retired.
he'll be dealt with.
our associates in new york were close to closing a deal with us.
yes. unlike our syndicates, your criminals don't understand the words 'honor' and 'duty'.  we can't afford not to deal with them.
imagine if your families could pay their gambling and drug debts with perfect counterfeit bought for cents on the dollar.
not with these bills. and even if it only took them six months, do you know what our profit margin would be?
the other plate is currently in new york, in the hands of kobo's man. find it for me.
i'll pay you.
swiss bank deposit. gold bullion. whatever you want. you know the city and the police.
you're smarter than kobo. you know the price of deceit. think about it.
kobo will meet me here tomorrow. ten a.m.
he'll find out you took me. i'm unprotected. he'll kill us. all of us. you don't stand a chance.
wearing his hat and coat is sitting on the couch, his back to us, facing out the window.
wearing a western suit, is asking kobo questions in japanese. sugai barks at him again. kobo refuses to answer. sugai pulls up a shuto -- an 18 inch knife -- from it's scabbard.
contact your associate in new york and tell him to hand my plate over to abolofia.
you have betrayed the syndicate and personally dishonored me. i would rather the deal fell through than.
abolofia's person has received the plate. it's done.
i wanted you to see him like this.
that's enough.
you want him dead too.
if anything happens to abolofia or my plate, detective.