“Go on.”
“So I do what he tells me for a while, but all the time I’m thinking about what I might do for myself, which, as it turns out, has a lot to do with what I might do for you. I liked the little trick you tried to play, by the way, but he didn’t believe it. When I told him what you had said to me, he said that of all the Conversos he knew, you were the one best made to be a liar.”
Miguel said nothing.
Joachim rubbed his sleeve against his nose. “In any case, I managed to fit a few things together. You know someone named Nunes, a trader in goods from the East Indies?”
Miguel nodded, for the first time really believing that Joachim might have some information of importance.
“This Nunes works for Parido. There’s something to do with a shipment of coffee, a drink I had once, by the way, and very much despised for its pisslike taste.”
Nunes working for Parido? How could that be? Why would his friend betray him?
“What about the shipment?” Miguel spoke so quietly he could hardly hear himself.
“Nunes lied to you-told you a shipment is late, never obtained, or such nonsense that he concocted-but it’s all false. They changed the ship, so it’s on something called the Sea Lily, which near as I can tell is to come in next week. I don’t know much more than that, except that Parido doesn’t want you to learn this and he wants to do something with the prices.”
Miguel began to pace about the room, only vaguely aware that Joachim stared at him. Parido and Nunes together! He would not have thought Nunes such a traitor, but it explained a great deal. If Nunes was Parido’s creature, he would have reported Miguel’s sale. Parido would then have begun conspiring to find ways to ruin Miguel while simultaneously making money himself. But Parido knew only about the coffee itself and how Miguel had gambled on its price falling. Perhaps he did not know about the plan to establish a monopoly. The shape of the scheme eluded him, but Miguel knew he had to assume one thing: if Geertruid did work for Parido also, she had not told Parido all she knew.
“You mentioned Geertruid Damhuis to me before. Does she work for Parido?” Miguel asked, hoping he might resolve the question forever.
“You’d be wise to keep clear of that one.”
“What do you know of her?”
“Only that she’s a thief and a trickster, she and her companion both.”
“That much I already know. What does Parido have to do with her?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Nothing that I am aware. Two such jackals could never run in the same pack. I’ve only heard him say he knows you have some business with her.”
Miguel returned to his seat. If Geertruid did not work for Parido, what was her plan and why had it been necessary for her to deceive him into a friendship? Perhaps Joachim did not know all of Parido’s secrets. He might have hired her and then realized she had been deceiving him as well as Miguel. He could make no sense of it, but it seemed likely that Parido had only a murky idea at best of his plans with Geertruid. “What about my brother?” Miguel asked at last, blurting out the words before he had fully realized his intentions.
“Your brother?”
“Yes. What do you know of his relationship with Parido? Have you heard him speak the name of Daniel Lienzo?”
Joachim shook his head. “What a sad affair when a man cannot even trust his own brother. I suppose it has ever been thus among your people. Only look at Cain and Abel.”
“Cain and Abel were not Jews,” Miguel said testily, “they were merely the sons of Adam and, as such, your ancestors as much as mine.”
“I’ll be careful not to quote you scripture again. But as for your brother, I can tell you nothing. I know he spends a great deal of time with Parido, but you know that yourself. You want to know if he acts against your interests, but I can’t tell you.”
“And the pig’s head? Parido’s doing or yours?”
Joachim’s lips parted just a little. “Both,” he said.
Miguel paused for a moment to feel justified. Daniel had thought Miguel the villain for bringing down such horrors on his house, but the parnass was the villain all along. “How is it that Parido was so foolish as to speak of all of this in front of you? He may well have sent you to me with this information.”
“He may have,” Joachim said. “I’d wonder the same thing if I were you. But I don’t see what he would have to gain by giving you this information. Once the Sea Lily docks it will be easy enough to pay a sailor to crack open a barrel and tell you what is inside.”
“You haven’t answered my first question. Why would he reveal all this to you?”
“He wouldn’t,” Joachim said. “At least he wouldn’t intend to. After all, who would suspect a half-mad Dutchman of understanding the language of Portuguese Jews?”
Miguel laughed in spite of himself. “In a city like Amsterdam,” he said, repeating what Joachim once told him, “one must never assume that a man does not understand the language you speak.”
“It’s still good advice,” Joachim agreed.
“I’ll have to think very carefully about what you have told me.” It could all be a lie, he told himself. Another of Parido’s tricks. But what trick? What trick would be worth revealing to Miguel this web of deception? He could bring Nunes before the courts now if he chose; no one would blame Miguel for not trusting this matter to the Ma’amad. Would Parido have knowingly given Joachim such powerful information?
Miguel looked at Joachim, who now appeared for all the world his old self-twitchy and uneasy, but no madman. It must be true, he told himself. A sane man could fake madness, but a madman could never trick the world into thinking him sensible. Money had brought Joachim back to his senses.
“You think, then,” Joachim said. “But I ask you to give me your word. If you choose to act on what I’ve told you, and these acts turn to profit, will you give me ten percent of what you make?”
“If I find you have told me the truth and acted with honor, I’ll do so gladly.”
“Then I am content.” He stood. He looked at Miguel for a moment.
Miguel opened his purse and handed him a few guilders. “Don’t spend it all at the taverns,” he said.
“What I do with it is my concern,” Joachim said defiantly. He stopped halfway up the stairs. “And you may take it out of the ten percent if you like.”
Having concluded his business, Joachim bade Miguel a good afternoon, but Miguel followed him up the stairs for no reason other than that he did not like the idea of Joachim wandering around the house unescorted. At the top of the stairs, Miguel heard the swish of skirts before he saw Hannah as she hurried away. The panic that burst in his chest dissipated almost immediately. Hannah spoke not a word of Dutch; she might listen all she liked, but it would hardly tell her anything.
After Miguel had seen Joachim out, however, Hannah awaited his return in the hallway. “That man,” she said softly. “He was the one who attacked us on the street.”
“He didn’t attack you,” Miguel said wearily, half staring at the swell of her belly, “but yes, it’s the same man.”