Geertruid studied him. “How will you solve this problem?” Her voice sounded icy.
“If I could answer that question I would have already solved it.”
“I put forth the money. I’ve done my part. Your part is to make it work-otherwise I should hardly need you.”
Miguel shook his head. “If you have no faith in this project, you must tell me now. There is still time to cancel the sale, though we lose the premium.”
Geertruid shook her head. “I don’t want to cancel the sale. I want the problem solved, and if it cannot be solved, I want to know that I can trust you to tell me so.”
“Very well,” he said sullenly. He had hardly been prepared for her to take this posture. “If I have not resolved the question of the Iberian agents in two weeks, we’ll cancel.”
Miguel showed no emotion, but even the thought of abandoning the deal filled him with misery. Perhaps he could find someone else, someone in the Jewish community to fund him. But that idea presented its own host of problems. He would have to discuss the plan in order to try to bring someone on board. Once he discussed it, it would no longer be a secret. His brother might have put up the money if they were on better terms, but Daniel had no faith that Miguel could manage his own affairs. No, if he lost Geertruid’s money, he could never proceed.
Then there was the matter of canceling the sale. Geertruid had been concerned about her money, and her lack of trust irritated Miguel. Though he had lost two thirds of her investment, he wasn’t the sort of person who handled money irresponsibly. He had only been unlucky.
Guessing that Geertruid had no idea how such sales were actually ordered, Miguel had simply invented his two-week estimate. He doubted he could get Nunes to cancel the deal in two weeks or even right now. But that difficulty could be dealt with another time. Now Miguel had no concern greater than regaining Geertruid’s confidence.
She nodded. “Two weeks is a goodly amount of time.”
“I had better redouble my efforts.” Miguel stood up. “I should hate to disappoint you.”
“Don’t think I’ve lost faith.” She reached out and took his hand in both of hers. “It is a great deal of money I’ve put forth, and I must protect my investment.”
“Of course, madam,” Miguel said. “I understand your heart in all things.”
Miguel stopped next at the Flyboat, where he found Isaiah Nunes engaged in conversation with a few other merchants of Miguel’s acquaintance. Nunes knew well how to read the expressions on a man’s face and, understanding that Miguel needed to speak with him, he pushed his muscular form upward.
The tavern was far too noisy, so they stepped outside into the cool of the late afternoon. Both men looked around carefully to make sure their conversation could not be overheard.
“If I choose to cancel the sale,” Miguel began abruptly, “by what date must I do so?”
“Cancel?” Nunes demanded. His face darkened. “What’s gone wrong?”
“Nothing,” Miguel told him warily. “I have no real plans to cancel, but one of my partners is nervous and asked me to make an inquiry. Besides, you were the one who advised me to be rid of coffee.”
“But not to be rid of our contract. You may tell this partner of yours it is far too late to back out. We don’t deal here with some friend of our Nation, you know. We deal with the East India Company, and the Company does not allow a buyer to change his mind no matter how politely one might ask.” Nunes paused for a moment. “I know you understand how things stand. I would hate for you to put me in an awkward position, Miguel.”
Miguel forced a smile. “Of course.”
Nunes shrugged. “In any case, I had actually been planning on sending you a little note tomorrow. I have made all the arrangements, and I now require a portion of the payment.”
“I had thought I would pay upon delivery,” said Miguel, who had thought no such thing.
“You know better than that,” Nunes said, his brow wrinkled in obvious displeasure.
“Shall we say a quarter up front?”
Nunes laughed and put a hand on Miguel’s shoulder. “You’re making me laugh now. You know how these things are done. If you’ll transfer half the amount to my account by the end of next week, I’d be most appreciative.”
Miguel cleared his throat. “Sadly, one of my partners has suffered a small-and temporary, I assure you-setback. We cannot come up with the entire sum by next week.”
The smile dropped from Nunes’s face.
“I can pay you a thousand,” Miguel suggested. “No small sum, and certainly an indication of our seriousness.”
Nunes’s hand had remained on Miguel’s shoulder, but it now pressed so hard he pushed Miguel up against the tavern wall. “Have you lost your wits?” he asked in a husky whisper. “There is no maneuvering with the Company. If I say I need fifteen hundred, I need that sum, not some token. I’ve contracted with them, you’ve contracted with me, and the deal is to be done. If you don’t give me that money, I will have to pay it out of my own account. You’re my friend, Miguel, but you have put me in a terrible position.”
“I know, I know.” Miguel held his hands up like a supplicant. “It’s these partners of mine-good for the money but slow with payment. But I’ll have the funds-by the end of next week, as you say.” Miguel would have told him anything to end the talk of contracts. “Perhaps,” he suggested as he turned away, “you could say a word or two to Ricardo on my behalf.”
“I’ll not fight your battle for you,” Nunes called after him, “nor get between you and Parido.”
He’d had enough disquiet for one day, but when he walked into his brother’s house, he knew at once that something terrible had happened. Daniel sat in the front room with a strange look on his face, disappointment and satisfaction all at once.
“What is it?” Miguel asked him. “Have you been searching-” He stopped. It was a line of inquiry that could lead to no good.
Daniel stretched out his arm to present a sealed letter. A sealed letter. How many times would Daniel confront him about his correspondence? But even as he thought the words, Miguel knew this letter was different-and Daniel already knew its contents.
Miguel numbly broke the seal and opened the triply folded paper. He did not have to read the ornate handwriting or the carefully chosen words in formal Spanish. He knew what it said. Miguel had been summoned to appear the next morning before the Ma’amad.
19
There were only a few hours of daylight remaining, and Miguel wished to use them to his advantage. He could feel the hot breath of ruin upon the back of his neck, but he might still arm himself against the battle and prevail. For all his grievances with the Ma’amad-and he had many-he believed it did possess one quirk that might work in his favor. The council did not condemn on mere principle. Parido might speak against him, might try to persuade the council to act, but the parnassim would listen to reason. They wanted the community to thrive so they were inclined to accept apologies and consider particular circumstances. Many a man had pulled his fat out of the Ma’amad’s fire by having a careful argument at the ready.
To prepare such an argument, Miguel would have to learn precisely why the Ma’amad wished to see him, though he felt almost certain he knew. Surely Joachim had spoken ill of him to the council. Now he needed to know what he had said and what kinds of charges were to be brought against him, and that presented a terrible irony. He had wanted nothing so much as to avoid that madman, but now he must seek him out.
Before Miguel had even begun to formulate a plan whereby he might find Joachim, he recalled something else, something Hendrick had said before he had been attacked in the tavern. You can tell us a story of your amorous victories or the strangeness of your race or some incomprehensible plan to conquer the Exchange. Geertruid had sworn to keep their business a secret from her dog, so why was he barking on about it? And what was the true source of her money? Could she and her loose lips be the source of this summons?