Ricardo made a hissing noise like a snake. “Very well. If you want to take that chance, you may bring your complaint forward. We will see what happens.”
Miguel nodded. “I thank you for your courtesy. I am sure the council will find this case very interesting. As it will find it interesting when it learns that you have hidden behind that man’s protection in order to avoid giving me my due. That will be very embarrassing for him, and I’m sure he will resent your having put him in so awkward a position. But,” Miguel said, “then again, he may not resent it at all. As you say, we’ll see what happens.”
Ricardo pulled himself to his feet. “Are you threatening me, senhor?”
Miguel belched out a laugh. “Of course I am. I am threatening you with the very thing you have challenged me to do. Not much of a threat, really, but it does seem to have you agitated.”
Ricardo nodded rapidly, as though discussing something with himself. “You don’t want to bring this before the Ma’amad,” he said.
“No, I don’t, but if you give me no choice, I will do it, and watching you and Parido squirm will prove more than ample compensation for my trouble. I have nothing to lose in this, Ricardo, but you do. You can pay me, you can give me the name of your client, or you can allow the Ma’amad to compel you to do both while embarrassing you and making Solomon Parido your enemy. It is your choice, but I intend to request a hearing first thing in the morning. You might want to make your decision soon.”
Miguel turned to leave, not that he thought Ricardo would let him but his statement required a pretended exit.
“Wait,” Ricardo said. He slowly lowered himself back into his chair. “Wait. Wait, wait, wait.”
“I’m waiting. I’ve been doing a great deal of it.”
“I understand.” He held up a hand in a stay-your-tongue gesture. “Here is what I will offer you. I will tell you the name of my client, and you may pursue your debt yourself, but you must not tell him I was the one who betrayed him. And you must not say anything to Parido. He doesn’t know I’ve used his name in this, and I would have him continue to not know.”
Miguel swallowed hard. At last this money would be his. And he had won-something that happened far too infrequently of late. “I agree,” he said.
Ricardo sighed. “Very well. Understand that my client instructed me very clearly to keep this information a secret. It was not my choice or my doing.”
“Just give me the name.”
“I said I would. The name,” he said, “is Daniel Lienzo.” He let out a squealing little laugh. “It is rather funny, when you think about it. He put the squeeze on you for the thousand you had borrowed of him, but all the while he owed you more than twice that. He has been lording it over you because you are in his debt, but these past weeks he has been your debtor. Do you find that as amusing as I do?”
Miguel picked up a stack of papers and threw them at Ricardo, scattering his notes and ledgers and correspondence all over the room. By doing so he hoped to indicate that he did not, in fact, find it as amusing as Ricardo did.
29
Miguel had known that Daniel’s finances were in trouble, but he had not known to what extent. All his sneering, all his grumblings about Miguel’s dealing in mischief when he was making mischief of his own-Miguel could forgive that; he could forgive the superiority and the judgmental glares. He could not forgive Daniel for taking money-for stealing money-when he knew his brother needed it.
But even with his resentment, Miguel did not dare to speak of it. He did not dare to complain, because until he resolved this coffee matter one way or another, he could not risk moving from his brother’s house, a move that would attract far too much notice.
Some days later, Annetje came again to Miguel’s study with an announcement that would have been far more shocking if it had been unprecedented. Joachim Waagenaar was at the door and wished to meet with him.
Joachim climbed down the narrow stairs using one hand to steady himself, the other to clutch his hat. He stumbled when he reached the floor, teetering like a drunkard.
“Well, now, senhor, I see things have come full circle. As the saying goes, a bird always returns to the place of its nest.”
Joachim was not so drunk as he had first seemed. An idea came into his head: Joachim had drunk just enough to give himself courage. But courage for what? Once more, Miguel looked for anything that could be used to protect himself.
“Is this your nest?” Miguel asked. “I hardly think so.”
“I disagree.” Joachim sat without being asked. “I feel like this very room is where I was born-the me I have become. And what I have become-even I hardly know that now.”
“Is that what you came to say?”
“No. Only that I’ve been thinking, and in a strange way I’ve decided you may be the greatest friend I have right now. Strange, isn’t it? Once we were-well, not friends really, but friendly like. Then we were enemies. I’ll take most of the blame for that, though my anger was justified; I’m sure you know that. And now we are friends at last. True friends, I mean. The kind who must look after each other.”
“How do you come to such an unusual conclusion?”
“Very simple, senhor. I have information you want. I have information from which you can make a great deal of money. In fact, I have information that will save you from ruin. I cannot help but fear you may be too much of a fool to take it, but just the same I have it and I am willing to share it.”
“And for this information you want the five hundred guilders of which I’ve heard so much?”
The Dutchman laughed. “I want instead a piece of your profit. You see the joke, I hope. I want my success, my fortune, once again to be bound with yours.”
“I see.” Miguel took a deep breath. He hardly even recognized his own life anymore. Here he sat, in his cellar, negotiating with Joachim Waagenaar. Were he to be caught doing so, in all likelihood Solomon Parido would argue to the Ma’amad that the crime should be forgiven. The world had become an unknown wilderness.
Joachim shook his head. “You don’t see, Lienzo, but you will. Here is what I propose: I agree to give you information from which you will make wondrous profits. If I’m right, you give me ten percent of what you make because of that information-a broker’s fee, shall we call it? If I am wrong, you owe me nothing, and you’ll never hear from me again.”
“Aren’t you overlooking an important detail?”
“What detail is that?”
Miguel swallowed. “That you are a madman, and nothing you say can be trusted.”
Joachim nodded, as though Miguel had made a sage point of law. “I’ll ask you to trust me now. I’m never been a madman, only a ruined man. Can you say what would become of you, senhor, if you lost everything-if you had no money, no home, no food? Can you say that you would not fall victim to the lunacy of desperation?”
Miguel said nothing.
“I’ve never wanted revenge,” Joachim continued, “only what’s mine, and I’ll not sit by and watch one man destroy another for the pleasure of it. I’ve no love for you. I suppose you know that, but I’ve learned what ruin is. I’ll not bring it on another.”
Joachim now had Miguel’s full attention. “I’m listening.”
“You’ll have to do more than listen. You’ll have to agree.”
“Suppose I listen to what you have to say and don’t believe you?”
“That’s well and good, but if you decide that you do believe me, and you act on that information, you’ll have to give me ten percent of what you make.”
“Or?”
“There’s no or,” Joachim said. “There can be no more threats between us. I’ll not make you sign a contract; I know you risk ruin if you put something on paper with one of us. I will leave it to your own sense of what a gentleman should do.”