The Coffee Trader

“It did not need to be done,” he said softly.

“It did!” I slammed my hand on the desk. “That wretch Parido had me cast out of the community because he did not like me. He used flimsy excuses to justify himself, but he was no more than a petty despot who relished what little power he had to make himself feel great. So what if he reached out to you, the brother of a partner, to make amends? Does that excuse the evil he has already done and the evil he would continue to perpetuate? I’ve done our people a great service, Miguel, by knocking him down.”

“And it hardly matters that Geertruid, who was my friend, gets destroyed?”

“Oh, she’s not destroyed, Miguel. She’s a thief and a trickstress. I know the kind. I am the kind, and I can tell you she will always do well for herself. She is a wily woman with yet an ample share of beauty. This time next year she’ll be the wife of a burgher in Antwerp or the mistress of an Italian prince. You needn’t worry about her. I’m the one who has lost three thousand guilders, after all. She might have repaid me some portion of it.”

Miguel merely shook his head.

“You’re angry about something else, I suppose. You’ve made some money. You’ve extricated yourself from debt, you have a tidy profit besides, and you are the most popular merchant in the Vlooyenburg-at least for the moment. But you are angry that you are not on your way to opulence, as you had hoped.”

He stared. Perhaps he was ashamed to admit that he was indeed angry not to have earned so much as he believed he might.

“The two of you might have captured the coffee market in Europe,” I said, “but I don’t think so. This plan of yours was too ambitious; the East India Company would never have allowed it. I had every intention of rescuing you before you overreached yourself. Had I not done so, you would have been destroyed again in a half year’s time. Instead, you have done quite well. You think because your scheme with Geertruid Damhuis failed that you can have nothing more to do with coffee? Nonsense. You have made that commodity famous, Miguel, and now the city looks to you. There is still a great fortune to be made. You wanted a trade that would put all your scheming to an end, but instead you have one that presents only a begi

“You had no right to trick me as you did.”

I shrugged. “Perhaps not, but you are the better for it. You have your money, and, I now hear, you are to be married soon as well. Many congratulations to you and the beautiful bride. You have said you wanted a wife and family, and now you shall have those things because of me. I may not have been your most honest friend, but I have always been your best one.”

Miguel rose from his chair. “A man must make his own fortune, not be played like a chess piece. I’ll never forgive you,” he said.

Given that he came to my home with the intention of killing me, I considered never being forgiven a considerable victory.

“Someday you’ll forgive me,” I said, “and even thank me.” But he was already gone-down the stairs at a hurried pace that came just short of a tumble and off to find his own way to the door. Drunk as he was, it took him a few minutes. I heard some bottles break and a piece of furniture topple, but that meant little to me. Once he was gone I had Roland tell the girl, A

35

Miguel hardly knew the layout of his furniture, and there were trunks of clothes and boxes of newly bought goods scattered about the rooms. The knock came at his door early in the morning, before the sun had only just burned off the dew, and he sensed that his serving woman had already left for the morning milk and bread. His head ached and the nagging sense of something terrible, something he dare not recall, haunted the outer reaches of his thoughts.

Geertruid. He had destroyed Geertruid for nothing-for Alferonda’s petty revenge against a man who had truly wanted to make things right and be Miguel’s friend. Parido had been but a merchant looking to preserve his investments. Miguel had been the villain.

Better to go back to sleep and think of it no more, if only for a few hours.

The pounding at the door would not let him be. He rolled out of his bed-for the first time since he moved in not relishing the comfort of a full-sized bed instead of one of those cupboard monstrosities-and quickly wrapped himself in a dressing coat and found a pair of wooden slippers. The house was a maze of trunks and misplaced furniture, and he tripped twice before reaching the back door in the kitchen.

At last he had made his way to the kitchen, and opened the top portion of the door. The pleasant odors of the early morning-fish and beer and freshly baked bread-burst in upon him so strongly his stomach turned forcibly, and he had to close his eyes to keep from vomiting. When he looked again, there to greet him was the haggard face of Hendrick. He had lost his hat, and his hair hung filthily around his face. He had a cut just below his eye that had clotted nastily, and blood smeared his shirt. Miguel somehow knew at once that the blood was not Hendrick’s.

“I haven’t the luxury of time,” he said, “so I won’t make you ask me in.”

“What do you want?” He had begun his new life, and he did not want to be seen having a conversation with one such as this. And the distant memory of a conversation echoed on the fringes of his consciousness. Hadn’t Hendrick promised to kill Miguel if he betrayed Geertruid?

But it seemed Hendrick had not come for murder. “I’ve come for my fifty guilders,” he said, smoothing some dirt out of his mustache.

“I don’t understand you.”

“We had a contract, you and I. A deal. You offered me the money, and I took you up on it. Last night. I found the fellow, and I did the business.”

Joachim. He had beaten up Joachim. “But I never told you to carry on with that. I merely asked you about it.”

“Well, it’s too late for quibbling back and forth, arguing over this detail or that. The deed is done, and I need the money. There you have it.” He let out a throaty half laugh that turned into a cough. “The fellow is beaten, and I’d best leave town as quick as I can before the constable’s men catch up with me.”

“I won’t give you a thing,” Miguel said. “I never asked for this.”

The violence that always lurked in Hendrick now rose to the surface. His face reddened and his eyes grew wide. “Listen to me, Jew Man. You’ll give it to me, or there will be more trouble than you reckoned on. If they do catch up with me, I’ll not hesitate to say you were the one to set me upon the task, so you had better think about that, and think about it quickly. I know you don’t want me to be seen here, so let’s just have this over with.”

Miguel knew it was well worth fifty guilders to make him disappear, so he excused himself and found the money in metal, presuming Hendrick would not care for a banknote.

“How badly did you hurt him?” he asked, as he handed over the purse.

“That’s the thing,” Hendrick said. He patted at the cut on his face with his sleeve. “More than I intended. I don’t suppose he needed both eyes, though, did he? One will do quite nicely.”

Miguel swallowed. “You took out an eye?”

“I didn’t take it out,” Hendrick corrected him. “It came out on its own. These things happen from time to time, and there isn’t much point lamenting what can’t be undone.”

“Get out of here,” Miguel said quietly.