Dryden family, and the red laurel for Van Eck. Even without the pin, she would have recognized Jan Van Eck’s resemblance to Wylan. She eyed his receding hairline. Poor Wylan might have to invest in a good tonic.
Dryden cleared his throat importantly. “I am Karl Dryden, and this is the esteemed Jan Van Eck.”
“Mister Dryden!” Colm said, his surprise a bit overblown. “I received your note. Unfortunately, my day is fully booked.”
“I wonder if we might secure just a few minutes of conversation?”
“We have no wish to waste your time, Mister Rietveld,” said Van Eck with a surprisingly charming smile. “Or ours.”
“Very well,” Jesper’s father said, projecting reluctance rather convincingly. “Please join us.”
“Thank you,” Van Eck said with another smile. “We understand you represent a consortium of jurda farmers.”
Colm looked around as if concerned that someone might overhear. “It’s possible I do. How do you come by this information?”
“I’m afraid that’s not within my power to disclose.”
“He’s hiding something,” said Nina.
Dryden and Van Eck frowned in unison.
“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.