The Coffee Trader

Something flashed across the widow’s face. “I think you’ll soon discover what the senhor likes, my dear. He has something of a reputation.”

Agatha led him to a back room, where Miguel soon found he hardly thought at all about Geertruid’s lies and what she might wish to conceal from so great a friend.

Among his letters the next day, Miguel found a favorable note from his prospective agent in Frankfurt. He read the letter through with satisfaction and then tore open the next, this one from the Muscovy trader. He politely explained that Miguel still owed him a sum approaching nineteen hundred guilders and that, as he knew of Miguel’s past difficulties, he could not let the matter rest. “I must demand immediate payment of half this debt, or I am afraid I shall have no choice but to allow the courts to decide how I might most effectively see my money.” The courts meant another public humiliation before the Bankruptcy Board, which would mean exposing both his co

Miguel swore, drank a bowl of coffee, and began his search of the most likely taverns. Luck was on his side that day, for he found Ricardo in the third place he looked, sitting alone drinking a tankard of beer sullenly.

“No business today?” Miguel asked.

“As to business,” Ricardo answered, without looking up, “you should mind your own.”

Miguel sat across from him. “Make no mistake. This is my business, senhor. You owe me a great deal of money, and if you think I’m content to do nothing you are mistaken.”

Ricardo, at last, deigned to look up. “Don’t threaten me, Lienzo. You dare not go to the Dutch courts without risking the anger of the Ma’amad, and we both know that if you go to the Ma’amad you run the risk of a ruling against you, a ruling that could tie up your money for months or years. You have no choice but to be patient, so get you gone before you anger me and I obstruct you even further.”

Miguel swallowed hard. What had he been thinking, coming here? Ricardo was right: he had nothing with which to threaten him-except, perhaps, a public airing. “Perhaps I’ll take my chances with the Ma’amad,” he said. “If I don’t get my money, I’ll be no worse off than I am now, and I can use a hearing as a public forum to expose you for the blackguard you are. More than that, I can expose your master. Indeed, the more I think about it, the more appealing this becomes to me. The other parnassim are only swayed by him because they think him scrupulous. If they learn about his tricks, he’ll lose power.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Ricardo said, but he looked worried. “I am my own master.”

“You work for Solomon Parido. He is the only one who might arrange this outrage, and I intend to expose it. If the money you owe me is not in my account by the close of business tomorrow, you can be sure I will seek justice.”

Miguel left without waiting for a reply, certain he had done what could be done, but by the end of business the next day, no money had been deposited in his account. Miguel realized he had no choice. He could not risk a court appearance that would look into his funds, so he transferred just over nine hundred guilders of Geertruid’s money into the agent’s accounts. He would worry about how to make up the money some other time.

15

The Exchange heaved and pulsated around Miguel as he sought out an East India Company broker. Only half an hour ago a rumor had come sweeping through with the might of a collapsing building: a powerful trading combination plotted to sell off a large portion of its East India shares. Often enough, when a combination wished to buy, it would circulate rumors that it wished to do just the opposite, and the force of that rumor would drive prices down. Those who had invested with the idea of very short turnarounds would dump their stock at once.

Miguel had been plying his trade on the Exchange long enough to know how to use these rumors to his advantage. Whether or not they were based on truth, whether the combination intended to buy or sell, made no difference. Such were the riches of the Orient that East India Company stock always-always-rebounded from a dip, and only a fool refrained from buying during a frenzy. Miguel had fortified himself that morning with three bowls of coffee. Rarely had he felt so awake, so eager. This madness could not have come at a more propitious time.

Buyers and sellers pushed through the crowd frantically, each screaming for his contacts as the usual cacophony of the Exchange rose to near-maddening levels. A rotund little Dutchman had his hat knocked off in the fray and, after watching it trampled, hurried away, content to lose something worth a few guilders rather than risk losing thousands. The men who dealt in diamonds, tobacco, grain, and other such items, and who shu

The East India shares were traded based on the percentage of their original value. The shares had opened that morning at just over 400 percent. Miguel found a broker and laid out 500 guilders he did not have, buying when the price dropped to 378. He assured his agent that the money could be found in his Exchange Bank account, though he knew that he could afford to spend no more of that money on his own trade.

Once he had his shares in hand, Miguel moved toward the edge of the trading cluster to monitor the change in prices. He then noticed Solomon Parido, who also appeared to be buying Company stock. Upon seeing Miguel, he sauntered over.

“These combinations,” the parnass said loudly, to make himself heard above the noise. “Without them there would be no market. They keep commerce moving in and out like the tides.”

Miguel nodded, paying less attention to the parnass than to the sellers calling out their prices. The shares had dropped again and were now selling at 374.

Parido put a hand upon Miguel’s shoulder. “I hear rumors, Senhor Lienzo, that things are on a new footing with you-that you have something pla

“Sometimes a man may not desire to be the subject of rumors,” Miguel told him, with a smile he hoped looked genuine. “And now may not be such a good time to talk of this.” He gestured toward the crowd of East India stock dealers. He heard a cry of 376.

“Pay that no mind. East India stocks go up and down so fast it hardly matters what a man buys or sells this day or that. Surely you wouldn’t want to insult a parnass by refusing to speak with him because of this mayhem.”

Miguel heard a call to buy for 381, more than he had paid, but not enough to think about selling. “I must be able to conduct my affairs,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm.

“I find it odd that you don’t want to know the subject of these rumors. On the Ma’amad I’ve learned that when a man does not ask with what he is charged, he is invariably guilty.”

“That’s in the Ma’amad’s chamber, not on the Exchange, when that man is attempting to see to his business. And I’ve not been charged with anything.”

“Even so,” Parido said.

The price dipped once more to 379, and Miguel felt the tug of panic. Not to worry, he assured himself. He had seen these dips before in moments of frenzy, and they would last only a few minutes. He had a moment to spare for this nonsense with Parido, but just a moment. Yet he could not quite stay calm. “Then tell me what you have heard,” Miguel said.

“That you are upon some new venture. Something in the coffee-fruit trade.”

Miguel waved a hand dismissively. “This coffee rumor plagues me. Maybe I should involve myself lest I disappoint so many eager devourers of rumor.”

Miguel heard new calls to sell-378, 376.

“You’re not trading in coffee?”