Annetje hurried out of the room. Hannah listened to her feet slap clumsily against the stairs and then, in the distance, the slam of a door.

Hannah took a deep breath. She felt her pulse pound in her temples and she concentrated on soothing her anguish. But even more than fear she felt confusion. Why did Annetje care so much if Miguel knew about the widow? What did it matter to her?

Hannah shuddered. Why had she not seen it before? Annetje was in the widow’s service.

Within two days the doctor permitted Hannah to rise from her bed, but things had grown uncomfortably tense in the house. No one spoke more than a few words at a time, and Miguel remained out of the house as much as he could. On Shabbat he invited himself to the home of a West Indian merchant with whom he maintained a friendly acquaintance.

Not all had turned sour, however. He had received a message from Geertruid saying that she had gone to visit relatives in Friesland. She would be back in Amsterdam any day, but in the meantime she had heard that her man in Iberia had secured agents in Oporto and Lisbon and now traveled to Madrid, where he felt sure of success. The news was good, but nevertheless troubling in light of Hannah’s story. What secret could Geertruid have that she wanted kept from her partner? Did he dare trust her? Did he dare do otherwise?

He had received a few notes from Isaiah Nunes, who was finding it difficult to conjure up language that sufficiently expressed his irritation. He wanted his five hundred guilders, and the bonds of friendship that restrained him were growing increasingly frayed. Miguel had no difficulties penning his replies, which made vague promises of immediate action.

Meanwhile, the price of coffee continued to go up, stemming, Miguel believed, from Solomon Parido’s influence. He bought calls in anticipation of an increase, and he made it known that he bought them. On the Amsterdam bourse, that was enough to alter the price. Merchants who had hardly ever noticed coffee now began to gamble on its continued rise.

But Miguel still had no idea what Parido planned. Would he entice his trading combination to exercise the calls and buy large quantities, making a monopoly even harder to obtain? Further, such a move would destroy the value of Miguel’s puts, ruining his chance to erase his debts and putting him further in debt to his brother. But Parido’s strategy would have to be approved by all members of his combination, and most were not content to make business plans based on the desire to shame a rival. Buying calls would cause the price to rise even further, and since the market would become artificially inflated, the combination would have a hard time selling at a profit. Parido might not have the strength of his combination behind him, but he might happily content himself with the thought that Miguel would lose on his investments.

At the Flyboat that afternoon, Miguel turned and nearly collided with Isaiah Nunes, who smiled in the awkward manner of a guilty child. Miguel had been drinking coffee almost constantly that day, and he felt equal to anything, so he approached the merchant and embraced him warmly. “How are you, my friend?”

“Just the man I’ve been looking for,” Nunes said, without a hint of irritation.

“Oh? Whatever for?”

Nunes laughed. “I wish I had your easy way about you, Miguel. But come with me for a moment. I need to show you something.” He led Miguel to the back of the tavern near a window, and in the muted light he spread out a piece of paper he removed from his coat. It was his contract with Miguel.

“I hate to be so particular with you,” he said, “but I must bring some of the wording to your attention.”

Miguel had felt full of optimism as he strolled along the canal sides, his puts bought (though illicitly, with his brother’s money), Joachim no longer a problem (if he wished to unleash Hendrick), his agents in place (if he could trust his partner)-but now, confined in the dark tavern, the energy of the coffee began to work against him. He wanted to move, but it was hard to breathe. The quick words came not so easily as they once had. “I know what you have to say, my friend, and if you will but-”

“Hear me out, and then I will hear you. It is only fair, yes?” Nunes did not wait for an answer. “You see what it says here, of course.” He smoothed out the contract and pointed to a few neat and closely written lines. “It says that you will pay half the delivery cost upon demand of the agent-being myself-when such a price is demanded by the provider-being the East India Company.”

Miguel nodded eagerly. “I understand the terms-”

“Please. Let me speak.” Nunes took a breath. “You see the wording. It says here that the money must be paid when the Company demands it, not on the date of delivery. The Company may demand payment when it agrees to sell the goods and deliver them by the earliest date convenient. You understand that, yes?”

“Of course I understand that,” Miguel said, “and I have every intention of getting you that remaining five hundred guilders. I know you have had to advance the money out of pocket, but I assure you it will be forthcoming.”

“I am sure it will. I only wanted you to understand the terms of the contract because there has been some rather troubling news.”

This contract business had been irritating, but he now realized that Nunes had been building up to something. “How troubling?”

“I hope not too troubling. These things can always be resolved, I think.” He kept his voice steady, his back erect, like a man awaiting a blow. “I fear your shipment will be delayed.”

Miguel pounded the table. “Delayed? Why? By how long?”

Nunes let out a sigh. “It is an unfortunate business, but you know I can only factor out my requests to men on East India Company vessels. The ship that had been promised changed its plans in accordance with the will of the Company. It’s not going to Mocha at all, and it cannot therefore obtain coffee. What can one do with such bad luck?”

Miguel put his head in his hands. For a moment he thought he might faint. “Delayed,” he whispered, and then released his face and held on to the side of the table. He looked up at Nunes and forced a broken grin. “Delayed, is it?”

“I know this seems as though it bodes ill for you, but all is not so bad as you think,” Nunes said quickly. “My man at the Company promises to obtain the goods for us. It will only take a little bit longer. I asked for a delay of the payment, but the contract, as I showed you, only requires them to send the shipment upon the first convenient vessel, and it is for the Company to determine its own convenience.”

“How much time?” His voice cracked, and he had to repeat the question, again with a forced smile. He dared not display any fear, yet a tingling panic radiated out to his extremities. His fingers went numb, and he flexed his hands as though they had fallen asleep.

Nunes bobbed his head as if to encourage a calculation. “It’s hard to say precisely. There are so many details to consider when trying to organize a shipment. They must find a ship that sails the route in question and then make certain it has room in the hold. You had concerns about secrecy that I assume you still wish honored, which is something that cannot be accommodated on every ship. Each detail must be planned with the greatest care.”

“Of course, I understand that.” He lifted his hat and ran a clumsy hand across his head. “But you can speculate, can’t you?” The hat fell on the floor, and Miguel stooped to retrieve it.

“Speculate,” Nunes repeated, trying not to be made anxious by Miguel’s jittery antics. “Under these conditions, sometimes it can take a year to set things right, but I’ve already written some letters and called in some favors. I hope to have your shipment within two or three months of the original date. Perhaps a bit longer.”