The furrier had been his enemy while Holden worked for Swiss. But now there were no more alliances. Bronshtein had spied on Aladdin because he understood the value of Aladdin’s designer, Nick Tiel. Nick had been the Michelangelo of the fur market before he went insane. Swiss had his own dividend of Nick’s designs, but he’d lost Aladdin, and a Nick Tiel coat was nothing without the Aladdin label. And so Bronshtein had come at Holden’s expense to bargain over merchandise. His mouth was made of gold. He was the richest furrier alive. He didn’t need Holden. But he couldn’t resist the idea of getting some Nick Tiel. And he adored that Holden had paid for his trip. He stared at that curious forest of coats in Aladdin’s factory. “Holden, you shouldn’t display your merchandise like that. You’re doing an injustice to Nick.” “Bronshtein, why should I con you? This is what I have.” “You can call me Solomon, Solly, or Sol. We’ll be partners in another minute. But I can’t put so many Nick Tiels out on the market.
