young man raced up the aisle of the cathedral and handed a sheaf of papers to Jellen Radmakker. They bore the pale green seal of the Gemensbank, and Wylan suspected they would show that all of the Merchant Council’s money had been funneled from a false jurda fund directly into an account intended for the Shu.
“This is madness!” shouted Van Eck. “You can’t possibly believe any of it!”
Wylan stood to get a better look, then sucked in a breath at the sharp clap of pain from his ribs. Jesper put a hand out to steady him. But what Wylan saw near the podium drove all thoughts of pain from his mind: A stadwatch officer was clapping shackles on his father, who was thrashing like a fish caught on a line.
“It’s Brekker’s work,” said Van Eck. “He set up the fund. Find the farmer. Find Pekka Rollins. They’ll tell you.”
“Stop making a spectacle of yourself,” Radmakker whispered furiously. “For the sake of your family, show some self-control.”
“Self-control? When you have me in chains?”
“Be calm, man. You’ll be taken to the Stadhall to await charges. Once you’ve paid your bail—”
“Bail? I am a member of the Merchant Council. My word—”
“Is worth nothing!” snapped Radmakker, as Karl Dryden bristled in a way that reminded Wylan distinctly of Alys’ terrier when he spotted a squirrel. “You should be grateful we don’t throw you in Hellgate right now. Seventy million kruge of the Council’s money has vanished. Kerch has been made a laughingstock. Do you have any idea of the damage you caused today?”
Jesper sighed. “We do all the work and he gets all the credit?”
“What is happening?” Alys asked, reaching for Wylan’s hand. “Why is Jan in trouble?”
Wylan felt sorry for her. She was sweet and silly and had never done anything more than marry where her family bid her. If Wylan had the right of it, his father would be brought up on charges of fraud and treason. Knowingly entering into a false contract for the purpose of subverting the market wasn’t just illegal, it was considered blasphemy, a blight on the works of Ghezen, and the penalties were harsh. If his father was found guilty, he’d be stripped of his right to own property or hold funds. His entire fortune would pass to Alys and his unborn heir. Wylan wasn’t sure Alys was ready for that kind of responsibility.
He gave her hand a squeeze. “It’s going to be okay,” he said. “I promise.” And he meant it. They’d find a good attorney or man of business to help Alys with the estate. If Kaz knew all the swindlers in Ketterdam, then he must know who the honest dealers were too—if for no other reason than to avoid them.
“Will they let Jan come home tonight?” Alys asked, her lower lip wobbling.
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
“But you’ll come back to the house, won’t you?”
“I—”
“You stay away from her,” Van Eck spat as the stadwatch dragged him down the steps from the stage. “Alys, don’t listen to him. You’re going to need to get Smeet to put up the funds for bail. Go to—”
“I don’t think Alys will be able to help with that,” said Kaz. He was standing in the aisle, leaning on his crow’s head cane.
“Brekker, you wretched little thug. Do you really think this is over?” Van Eck straightened, attempting to reclaim some of his lost dignity. “By this time tomorrow, I’ll be out on bail and setting my reputation to rights. There’s a way to connect you to the Rietveld fund and I will find it. I swear it.”
Wylan felt Jesper stiffen beside him. Colm Fahey was the only connection.
“By all means, swear,” said Kaz. “Make a solemn vow. I think we all know what your word is worth. But you may find your resources somewhat constrained. The custodian of your estate will be in charge of your funds. I’m not sure how much money Wylan plans to devote to your defense, or your bail, for that matter.”
Van Eck laughed bitterly. “I wrote him out of my will as soon as Alys conceived. Wylan will never see a penny of my money.”
A murmur of surprise went up from the members of the Merchant Council.
“Are you certain?” Kaz said. “I’m sure Wylan told me you two had reconciled. Of course, that was before all this ugly business.”
“My will is perfectly clear. There’s a copy of it in—” Van Eck stopped midsentence, and Wylan watched a horrified expression spread over his father’s face.