31

Just before noon, outside the Exchange, excitement was building upon the Dam. Two weeks had passed since Miguel’s conversation with Geertruid. Today was reckoning day on the Exchange, and today Miguel’s investments came due. He stood in the crowd, awaiting the opening of the great gates, and scanned the faces about him: hard and intense stares into the distance. Dutchman, Jew, and foreigner alike all clenched their teeth and maintained a martial watchfulness. Any man who had spent enough time on the Exchange could sense it, like the smell of coming rain. Great schemes were ready to be unleashed that would affect everyone who traded. Every reckoning day was charged, but today something more than the usual would happen. Everyone knew it.

As he had made himself ready that morning, Miguel felt a troubling peace. His stomach had been in a twist for weeks, but now he felt the calmness of resolve, like a man walking to the gallows. He had slept surprisingly soundly but still drank four large bowls of coffee. He wanted to be wild with coffee. He wanted coffee to rule his passions.

He could not have been more ready, but he knew some things were beyond him. Five men, knowingly or not, were his creatures, and he depended on them to act their parts. It was all so fragile. This enormous edifice could in an instant crumble into dust.

And so he prepared himself as best he could. He cleansed himself before Shabbat at the mikvah and dedicated himself to prayer on the holy day. The next day he continued in prayer, and he fasted from sunup to sunset.

He could not survive two ruins. The world might blink at the first one, forgive it as bad luck. Two ruins would crush him forever. No substantial merchant would ever entrust such a failure with his daughter. No man of business would ever offer Miguel a partnership. To fail today would mean he would have to abandon the life of a merchant.

With his teeth gritty from ground coffee berry, Miguel had stepped outside and breathed in the early morning air. He felt more like a conquistador than a trader. Only a few wisps of clouds drifted across the sky, and a light breeze came rolling in from the waters. A superstitious Dutchman might see clear skies as a good omen, but Miguel knew the skies were clear for Parido too.

Outside the Dam, Miguel waited in the unusually silent crowd. No arguments or bursts of laughter. Nowhere did the sound of early trading set off a ripple of exchanges. When men spoke, they spoke in whispers.

Parido’s calls, like Miguel’s puts, were to come due at the close of the day. That meant Parido needed to keep the price high, and the higher it went the more he would profit, just as the lower it went, the more Miguel would earn. If Miguel did nothing, Parido would gain on his investment and Miguel would lose. As Parido held the coffee shipment that was meant to be Miguel’s, he would hold on to his goods until after tomorrow. He might then slowly sell what he had at the inflated price.

“If you were Parido,” Alferonda had reasoned, “you would want to use your trading combination. You could spread the rumor that his combination was planning to dump holdings, which would bring down the price. But you don’t have that kind of power. Parido does.”

“Why does he not simply spread the rumor that his combination will be buying, thus causing the price to rise even higher?”

“The rumor game is a delicate one. If a combination overuses it, no one will believe rumors associated with that combination anymore, and it has lost a valuable tool. This business with the coffee is Parido’s, not his combination’s. The other members would be unwilling to expend the capital of rumor on his behalf here, not unless the promise of wealth were sufficiently compelling. But there are other ways he can use his combination.”

“He can instruct his men not to respond to me.”

“Precisely. Parido will assume that you will try to sell such coffee as you have acquired, and make it seem as though you have more than you do, thus causing a fall in the price. Alternatively, you will sell what you don’t have. Now, he knows this is tricky, because if you can set off a selling frenzy, you can then buy cheap what others unload, and if anyone challenges the sale you can produce what you have promised. But he will surely have instructed his combination to spread the rumor that you will not have what you pretend to sell, and no one will buy of you.”

Miguel smiled. “Can it be as simple as that?”

“Parido is a very powerful man,” Alferonda said. “He has made his money not by being overly clever but by seeing to the simple things. You’ve demonstrated in the past that you work alone, you work without much strategy, and you tend to follow your instincts rather than clear business plans. I see you are insulted, but you cannot deny it is true. You’ve made mistakes, Miguel, but those mistakes will serve you very well when you step forth onto the Exchange this time. Parido will be expecting a very different opponent from the man he finds.”

The clock upon the tower of the great Town Hall struck noon, and the gates to the Exchange opened in a burst of shouting that echoed across the Dam. Miguel pushed his way in, along with the hundreds of other traders, and slowly made his way toward the East India corner of the courtyard, ignoring the traders who called out to him with their goods.

A larger crowd than was usual milled around the East India traders. Many of the men were of Parido’s combination. They wore the bright colors and feathered hats of the Portuguese, and they held themselves like imperious hidalgos. They were there as a favor to their friend. It would cost them nothing to monitor the trade in coffee, to sell nothing themselves, and to muscle out anyone who might respond to Miguel’s efforts. It was all as he and Alferonda had speculated.

Off to the side, talking with some traders Miguel recognized, stood Isaiah Nunes. He nodded at Miguel. Miguel nodded back. There would be time for accusations later, but for now he put forth his best face. What would Nunes expect to see from Miguel? Disappointment, of course. He knew about the puts. Still, he had to make a certain show of determination.

In the open courtyard where the Hamburg merchants did their business, Alferonda conferred with the few Tudescos on the Exchange. These long-bearded Jews nodded their sage heads as the usurer explained something at great, probably needless, length.

Miguel looked up and saw Parido in front of him. “This day has a familiar feel to it. Does it not remind you of the day the price of sugar fell?”

“No.” Miguel smiled back. “As a matter of fact, this day feels utterly new.”

“Surely you don’t think you can orchestrate a downturn in coffee prices. You were warned to keep away from the coffee trade, but you would do things your own way. That is how it must be. I’ve anticipated your moves, and I’ve taken steps to prevent their success. The kindliest advice I can give you is to walk away. Accept your losses at the day’s end. At least you’ll be spared a public humiliation.”

“I appreciate your advice. But you might wish to keep in mind that you will be pressing your lips to my ass before the day ends.”

“You forget to whom you speak. I am only trying to spare what remains of your reputation. A lesser man than I would have held his tongue.”

“There is no lesser man than you, senhor.”

Parido clucked his tongue. “Do you really believe you can outmaneuver me?”

“I have my business well in hand.” Miguel did not like the wavering of his own voice. Parido seemed too confident. What if he knew the details of Miguel’s plans? What if he had taken steps to prevent Alferonda’s clever scheme to circumvent Parido’s influence? What if Joachim had betrayed him?

“How in hand do you truly have it?” Parido asked.