“I learned from the captain of the ship you traveled on,” said Van Eck.
“He’s lying,” said Nina.
“How could you possibly know that?” Dryden asked irritably.
“I am Grisha,” Nina said with a dramatic wave. “No secret is beyond my grasp.” She might as well enjoy herself.
Dryden’s lower lip disappeared as he sucked on it nervously, and Van Eck said grudgingly, “It’s possible some sensitive information may have made its way into our hands through Cornelis Smeet’s office.”
“I see,” said Colm, looking very grim indeed.
Nina wanted to applaud. Now the merchers were on the defensive.
“We are interested in the possibility of adding to your list of investors,” said Van Eck.
“I don’t need more investors.”
“How can that be?” asked Dryden. “You’ve been in the city less than a week.”
“The climate has changed somehow. I don’t completely understand it, but there’s been a run on jurda .”
Now Van Eck leaned forward, eyes slightly narrowed. “That is interesting, Mister Rietveld. How is it that you appeared in Ketterdam at such a fortuitous time? Why choose now to start a jurda consortium?”
So much for the defensive. But Kaz had prepared Colm for this.
“If you must know, a few months ago, someone began buying up jurda farms surrounding Cofton, but no one could discover his identity. Some of us realized something must be brewing, so we chose not to sell to him, and instead started our own enterprise.”
“An unknown buyer?” asked Dryden curiously. Van Eck looked a bit ill.
“Yes,” said Nina. “Mister Rietveld and his partners had no success in learning who he might be. But perhaps you gentlemen might have better luck. There’s talk that he’s Kerch.”
Van Eck sank back in his seat. His pale skin had acquired a clammy sheen. The power at the table had shifted once again. The last thing Van Eck wanted was anyone looking into who had been buying up those jurda fields. Nina gave Colm another gentle nudge. The less interested they seemed in the Council’s money, the more eager the Council members would be to give it up.
“Actually,” continued Colm, “if you suss him out, you might be able to go in on his scheme instead. He may still be seeking investors.”
“No,” said Van Eck a bit too sharply. “After all, you are here now and able to represent our interests. Why waste time and effort in pointless sleuthing? Each man has the right to seek profit where he finds it.”
“All the same,” said Dryden. “It’s possible this investor knew something about the situation with the Shu—”
Van Eck cast Dryden a warning look; he clearly didn’t want Council business spread around so casually. The younger merch shut his mouth with a snap.
But then Van Eck pressed his fingers together and said, “It’s certainly worth gathering all the information we can. I will take it upon myself to investigate this other buyer.”
“Then perhaps we needn’t move quite so soon,” said Dryden.
Timid indeed , thought Nina. She glimpsed Anika’s signal from across the lobby. “Mister Rietveld, your next appointment?” She cast a meaningful glance at the lobby, where Rotty—looking marvelously dapper in mercher black—led a group of men through the entry and past the dining room.
Van Eck and Dryden exchanged a glance at the sight of Jellen Radmakker, one of the wealthiest investors in all of Kerch, walking through the lobby. In fact, as soon as Dryden’s note had arrived requesting a meeting, several investors had been invited to a presentation on Zemeni oil futures that had nothing to do with the fictional Johannus Rietveld. Of course, Van Eck and Dryden didn’t know that. The important thing was they believed they might lose their opportunity to invest. Nina was almost sorry she wouldn’t get a chance to hear Jesper hold forth on the resources market for an hour.
Nina gave Colm another kick under the table.
“Well,” he said hurriedly. “I must be on my way, gentlemen. It’s been a pleasure—”
“What’s the stake price?” asked Dryden.
“I’m afraid at this late date, I couldn’t really take on more—”
“What if we came in together?” Van Eck said.
“Together?”
“The Merchant Council believes jurda prices may change soon. Until recently, our hands were bound by our roles as public servants. But the upcoming auction has freed us to pursue new investments.”
“Is that legal?” Colm asked, his brow furrowing with every appearance of deepest concern.
“Absolutely. We are prohibited from influencing the outcome of the auction, but an investment in your fund is well within the law and could be mutually beneficial to us both.”
“I see how the fund may benefit you, but—”
“You’ve been courting separate investors. What if the Merchant Council became your lead investors? What if this became our fund exclusively? The Council represents thirteen of the oldest and most established families in Kerch, with thriving businesses and plenty of capital. The farmers in your consortium could have no better partners.”
“I … I don’t know,” said Colm. “That’s certainly appealing, but I would need serious security if we were to expose ourselves to risk in this way. If the Council were to back out, we’d lose all our investors at once.”
Dryden bristled. “No member of the Merchant Council would violate a contract. We’ll enter into it with our own seals and have it witnessed by the judge of your choosing.”
Nina could almost see the wheels turning in Van Eck’s mind. No doubt there had been farmers who refused to sell in Novyi Zem. Now he had the chance to control not only the jurda fields he’d purchased, but a good chunk of those he’d failed to acquire as well. Nina also wondered if, given the money the search for his son was costing the city, he was feeling pressure to bring the Council a good opportunity.
“Give us forty-eight hours to—” began Van Eck.
Colm’s expression was apologetic. “I’m afraid I must finish my business here by tomorrow night. I’ve already booked passage.”
“The harbors are closed,” said Van Eck. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Jesper’s father directed a cold gray glare at Van Eck that raised the hair on Nina’s arms. “I feel distinctly bullied, Mister Van Eck, and I don’t like it.”
For a moment Van Eck held his gaze. Then his greed got the better of him.
“Twenty-four hours, then,” said Van Eck.
Colm pretended to hesitate. “Twenty-four hours. But I make no promises. I must do what’s best for the consortium.”
“Of course,” Van Eck said as they rose and shook hands. “We only ask that you make no final decision until we’ve had a chance to make our case for taking over the fund. I think you’ll find our offer very generous.”
Colm glanced in the direction that Radmakker had gone. “I suppose I can do that. Good day, gentlemen.”
As Nina turned to follow him out of the dining room, Van Eck said, “Miss Zenik.”
“Yes?”
“I hear you worked out of the House of the White Rose.” His lip curled slightly, as if even saying the name of a brothel constituted debauchery.
“I did.”
“I’d heard the Heartrender there occasionally works with Kaz Brekker.”
“I’ve done jobs for Brekker before,” Nina conceded easily. Best to go on the offense. She took Van Eck’s hand in hers, delighted at the way his whole body seemed to recoil. “But please believe me, if I had any idea where he’s taken your son, I would tell the authorities.”
Van Eck stiffened. Clearly he hadn’t intended to take the conversation in that direction. “I … thank you.”
“I can’t imagine the anguish you must be going through. How did Brekker even lay hands on the boy?” Nina continued. “I would have thought your security—”
“Wylan wasn’t at home.”
“No?”
“He was studying music in Belendt.”
“And what do his teachers have to say about the abduction?”
“I …” Van Eck looked uneasily at Dryden. “They are flummoxed as well.”
“Perhaps he fell in with bad company?”
“Perhaps.”
“I hope he didn’t cross Kaz Brekker,” Nina said with a shudder.