The Coffee Trader

27

The idea that one might see things more clearly upon a new day, or that matters of importance could be worked out during sleep, seemed to Miguel foolishness. His restless sleep offered him no answers the next day, nor the day thereafter, the Sabbath. On the following morning, however, he did wake up with one important detail on his mind: standing outside the Singing Carp, Joachim had spoken suggestively about Geertruid. He could remember the precise smell in the air-beer and piss and canal stink-as the wretch suggested he knew something.

At the time, Miguel had assumed Joachim had somehow learned about Geertruid’s money, but now Miguel thought that unlikely. The business with the husband’s children was almost certainly a lie, a plausible deception meant to sound like a dishonest but forgivable means of generating capital. Surely it was more likely that Solomon Parido had provided the money.

But if Geertruid did Parido’s work, why did the parnass not know the details of Miguel’s plans? Would Parido let Miguel and Geertruid obtain their monopoly on coffee and then strike, ruining Miguel for his partnership with Geertruid and splitting the proceeds?

“No,” Miguel said aloud. He sat upon his cupboard bed, throwing the heavy feather duvet aside in the morning heat. None of it made sense, but someone-Geertruid, Hendrick, Parido-someone would make a mistake that would reveal the truth, and he would be ready when they did.

Two days later, Annetje announced that Miguel had a visitor. Her voice quivered slightly, and she could not bring herself to meet Miguel’s eye. When he followed her out to the front room, he saw Joachim standing just inside the doorway, a new wide-brimmed cap in his hand, looking about the house with a kind of childlike curiosity: So, this is where a Jew lives.

“You’ve lost your mind,” Miguel said calmly.

Joachim wore new clothes-where had they come from?-and while they were not the finery he had once been used to, he presented himself neatly and with dignity, much like a tradesman in his white shirt, new doublet, and close-fitting woolen jersey. The wound on his face belied any hint of gentility, but it also made him less recognizably a mendicant, and he certainly no longer carried with him the stink of decay.

“I must speak with you,” he said, in an even voice Miguel hardly recognized. Had a bath and new clothes driven out his madness? “I’m already in your house. To cast me out now would do you no good, particularly if I made a great deal of noise about it. Surely you would be better off if I left quietly when my business is done.”

Could not the rascal have had the courtesy to knock upon the kitchen door? Miguel was not about to stand in the front of the house with this fellow, so he stepped aside and led the villain down to his cellar.

Joachim examined his surroundings as he descended the stairs and stood uneasily in the damp room, perhaps surprised that Miguel did not live in luxury. He sat on a stool with uneven legs and let a moment pass while he stared into the flame of the oil lamp upon the table. Finally he took a deep breath and began. “I have been under the influence of a lunacy that has now passed. I have made demands and issued threats, some of which may have been unreasonable, and for that I apologize. I still think I should be paid the five hundred guilders I lost, but it need not be immediately or all at once. That is to say, I would like to set upon a schedule of repayment, such as one might have if he took a loan. Then I’ll no longer bother you.”

“I see.” Miguel spoke slowly, trying to give himself time to think. Someone had provided Joachim with money; that much was evident. That someone could only be Parido.

“I’m glad you see, so on to business: I will accept a gradual repayment of what you owe, though in order for me to feel comfortable, I’ll have to know how you plan to make your money. So, you see, that’s the bargain. You tell me about this business project in which you plan to make money over the next few months and, understanding your strategy, I may feel confident that you will repay my five hundred guilders over, shall we say, the next two years.”

It could not have been more simple or more obvious. Parido had engaged Joachim to find out what Miguel had planned. Whatever Parido had done, he appeared to have quite tamed the man. Had money been enough to effect this change? Miguel thought there must be more. Joachim held himself with the uneasy bearing of a man awaiting trial.

Miguel felt a sudden unexpected exhilaration. Things had gone badly in the past few weeks-very badly-but now he knew how to take command. He knew what others were planning and, knowing their plans, he could manipulate them to his advantage.

“How do I know that you won’t prey on whatever information I provide?” he asked, stalling for time while he considered his options. “You have not been so long away from the Exchange that you have forgotten the value of secrecy.”

“I don’t want anything to do with the Exchange. Those days are past for me. I only want to provide for my wife and retire into a quiet existence in the countryside.” He winced for a moment. “If you pay me, I’ll buy a plot of land and work it. Or perhaps I’ll open a tavern in some village.”

“Very well,” Miguel said carefully, “I promise to pay you.”

“But you must tell me what I ask,” Joachim said. He ran his fingers through his long hair, recently washed smooth.

Miguel tasted blood. “Must I? What will you do if I don’t tell you?”

“I only want assurance that I shall not be ill used.”

“Then you have my assurance.” Miguel smiled.

“That won’t be enough.” Joachim shifted uneasily. “We have had our differences, yes, but you see now that I come to you somewhat humbled. I am ready to admit my wrongs. I only want a little thing from you, and yet you withhold it.”

What could he give Parido that would satisfy him and also buy Miguel some time? The answer came to him in a sudden burst of inspiration: fear. He would give the man cause to tremble, to doubt his allies, to look upon the unknown and the future as his enemies.

Miguel nodded slowly in an effort to look thoughtful. “Unfortunately, I can give you no details of my business because there are other men involved, and I haven’t the right to say on my own something that may affect the well-being of the combination.”

“You have joined with a trading combination?” he asked eagerly, diving for the scraps.

“A combination of sorts. We have joined together that we may better engage in a rather momentous piece of business. Each of us has a particular skill or contribution, making the whole stronger than the sum of its parts.” Miguel felt a twinge of sadness. That had been the case with his partnership with Geertruid-at least until he learned that Geertruid had betrayed him.

“What will this combination be doing?”

“I can’t tell you that-not without breaking a vow I made to the others. Please understand that no matter how much you may make your case, I can’t give you those details.”

“I must have some information.” Joachim was nearly pleading. “Surely you can see that.”

For the first time, Miguel began to wonder if Joachim was Parido’s servant or his slave. He appeared to be genuinely afraid of leaving without information for his master. With what could Parido have threatened Joachim?

“Without betraying confidences, I can tell you there’s a great deal of money to be made. You no longer follow the affairs of the Exchange, so I will confide in you if you promise not to repeat it to another soul. Do you solemnly promise, Joachim?”

Inexplicably, Joachim hesitated and swallowed in discomfort. “I promise,” he said.

“Do you swear by your own Jesus Christ?” Miguel asked, twisting the knife.

“I don’t make such oaths lightly,” Joachim said. “Despite all that has happened, I hope I shall do nothing blasphemous.”

“I ask nothing blasphemous,” Miguel explained with a broad smile. “Only to swear a holy oath to do what you have already promised to do. I suppose you could break your word. Any man who would threaten to take another’s life, surely among the most serious of sins, could break a vow made to his God. But if you make the vow, it will offer me some small comfort.”

“Very well,” Joachim said, examining the light that filtered in through one of the small windows. “I swear by Jesus Christ not to repeat what you tell me.”

Miguel smiled. “What more could I ask for? Know then that with this scheme we plan to make a great deal of money, an amount so large that the five hundred you ask for will seem as nothing. Men will talk about it ten years hence. It will be the very model to which young upstarts on the Exchange aspire.”

Joachim’s eyes widened. He straightened himself in his stool. “Can you say no more? Can you not tell me if you deal in a particular commodity or route or stock scheme?”

“I can’t answer that question without violating my own vows,” Miguel lied. “There are other Jews of importance involved in this business, and in order to protect ourselves we have all taken vows of silence.”

“Other Jews of importance?” Joachim asked. He had been in Parido’s service long enough, apparently, to know when he had hit upon something of note.

“Yes,” Miguel told him. His little deception was so sinister he could hardly contain his pleasure. “I have thrown my lot in with several members of the community of the highest standing. That’s why I never feared your bringing our history to the Ma’amad; I only wished to avoid being embarrassed before my partners. I have an enemy on that board, but I also have very powerful friends.” He paused to lean forward and assume the hunched pose of a teller of secrets. “You see, one of the members of the council is part of my combination, and another has invested heavily in our enterprise.”

Joachim nodded and appeared to visibly relax. It would seem that he now had enough information to return to his master and not fear his dissatisfaction. He had the glimmering jewel he had sought.

“Does that satisfy your curiosity, Joachim?”

“For now,” Joachim said. “Though I believe I may have more questions later.”

“When you think of them, you mean.”

“Yes, I might think of more.”

“You always were a curious fellow. I suppose there’s nothing to be done about that.”

Miguel ushered him up the stairs and saw him out the kitchen door. When he closed it, he barked out a laugh. Miguel need no longer fear the Ma’amad. Surely Parido would never agree now to have Miguel questioned. He had too much to lose.