"Zorzi was guilty all along?" The friar's eyes widened in sudden hope.
"Oh, yes. They were both guilty. Your mother you can see tomorrow…" It was my turn to stare at the cat, which had barely moved a whisker through all this long conversation. "But Zorzi? Could you forgive him now, Brother? If your brother were truly repentant and trying to make amends and came to ask for your blessing, could you give it?"
Fedele shouted at me, raising echoes in the huge church. "If God gave you wings, would you fly, Alfeo? Do not ask such sacrilegious questions, such blasphemy! What happens now? You have called me Cain and I have not denied the charge. You will denounce me?"
"I could not. The only evidence that could be produced in court is the note and I ought never have been shown the note. In any case I would not, and neither would my master. In effect, although you lied, what you said was true. Zorzi was an accomplice in your father's death, as guilty as your mother and with far less excuse. But I would never denounce you, because of the cat."
Friar looked down at cat as if he had forgotten it. The cat stared back.
"Oh yes, the cat. Your familiar, I suppose?"
"No, Brother. Please understand that my master's first objective always was to prevent any more murders. He is an avaricious man, but a good Christian in spite of it. I happily do his bidding. Throughout this case, that cat has been helping me. I first saw it last Friday, when it blocked my way. I thought it must be rabid, so I went by another road, and that turned out to be a very fortunate decision. On Saturday I tried to stop your mother from killing Marina Bortholuzzi and was chased by a mob that thought I was the killer. The cat showed me a refuge. On Sunday it saved me from arrest. Tonight it intervened to save a woman's life. This is no ordinary cat, Brother."
Fedele crossed himself. "It is possessed by a demon!"
"A strangely cooperative, right-thinking demon. A honey-colored cat?"
It was, of course, the last of the tarot predictions. The card showing the helper had been Trump XX, Judgment, the dead rising from their graves. I said, "Do you believe in ghosts, Brother?"
The staring match continued.
"Well? Do you, Brother?"
Fedele whispered, "I suppose… Yes."
The cat shot into his lap. He almost fell off the stool, hands raised so as not to touch the animal. He must be even less of a cat person than I had been.
The cat cuddled itself in tidily, curled its tail around, and began to purr, staring up at the friar's anguished face.
I rose. "You can try an exorcism if you want, Brother, but perhaps you should just offer your blessing. He died unconfessed, remember. By the look of him, I think he is ready to give you his forgiveness and accept yours. Then he can be on his way."
At the door I looked back. The friar was embracing the cat and it seemed to be licking his tears.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
In the course of writing these stories about a parallel historical Venice, I have collected a personal library of over forty books, and borrowed many others from libraries. To acknowledge all of them would be tiresome and also unfair, because I have improved certain facts and made some accidental mistakes also.
For this story, though, I should acknowledge my debt to three books in particular. First, The War of the Fists: Popular Culture and Public Violence in Late Renaissance Venice, by Robert C. Davis, Oxford University Press, 1994. Matteo the Butcher is my invention, and I have changed the dates slightly, but otherwise I have followed Davis's account of a unique and astonishing custom in a city that has always been unique and astonishing. The Ponte dei Pugni is still there in San Barnaba parish, although nowadays it has parapets to keep people from falling off.
A book I have borrowed much from is Coryat's Crudities (1611). (I have the Scolar Press facsimile edition of 1905.) Thomas Coryat journeyed from London to Venice and back in 1605, mostly on foot, and thus invented the "Grand Tour." On his return he wrote what may fairly be called the first travel book since Pausanias's Description of Greece in the second century AD. Coryat includes vivid descriptions of much of the Venice of his day-although some of his observations are clearly wrong (he describes the nude statue of Mars in the Doges' Palace as representing the goddess Minerva). It is thanks to him that I know that the Campo San Zanipolo was not yet paved.
Another valuable eyewitness, an exact contemporary of my imaginary events, was Fynes Moryson, another English-man. Moryson visited Venice in 1593, 1596, and 1597. I have a collection of extracts from his records published as Shakespeare's Europe: A survey of the condition of Europe at the end of the 16 th century, edited by Charles Hughes, published 1903, reissued 1967 by Benjamin Blom, Inc., New York. I used Moryson's eyewitness description of the doge's procession to San Maria Formosa and the Christmas Mass in the Basilica. I have had a private tour of that church, which included sitting in darkness until those glorious, incredible golden mosaics appeared, gradually being illuminated. It is an experience one could never forget. Nowadays the trick is done with electric lights, of course, so I was fascinated to discover that it was done with candles back in Alfeo's day. But the Venetians have been managing the tourist trade since before the Crusades.
GLOSSARY
altana a rooftop platform
androne a ground-floor hall used for business in a merchant's palace
atelier a studio or workshop
barnabotti (sing: barnabotto) impoverished nobles, named for the parish of San Barnaba
Basilica of San Marco the great church alongside the Doges' Palace; burial place of St. Mark and center of the city
broglio the area of the Piazzetta just outside the palace where the nobles meet and intrigue; by extension the political intrigue itself
ca' (short for casa) a palace
calle an alley
campo an open space in front of a parish church
casa a noble house, meaning either the palace or the family itself
cavaliere servente a married woman's male attendant (and possibly gigolo)
Circospetto popular nickname for the chief secretary to the Council of Ten
clarissimo "most illustrious," form of address for a nobleman
Constantinople the capital of the Ottoman (Turkish) Empire, now Istanbul
cortigiana onesta a courtesan trained in art, music, literature, etc.
Council of Ten the intelligence and security arm of the government, made up of the doge, his six counselors, and ten elected noblemen
doge ("duke" in Venetian dialect) the head of state, elected for life
ducat a silver coin, equal to 8 lira or 160 soldi, and roughly a week's wages for a married journeyman laborer with children (unmarried men were paid less)
fante (pclass="underline" fanti) a minion of the Ten
felze a canopy on a gondola (no longer used)
fondamenta a footpath alongside a canal
fraterna under Venetian law, brothers held family property in common unless they agreed otherwise; a joint-stock company in modern terms
giovane (pclass="underline" giovani) a youth or young man (note: Giovanni = John)
Great Council the noblemen of Venice in assembly, the ultimate authority in the state
khave coffee (a recent innovation)
lira (pclass="underline" lire) a coin equal to 20 soldi
lustrissimo "most illustrious," honorific given to wealthy or notable citizens
magazzen a tavern that does not sell food and stays open around the clock
marangona the great bell in the campanile San Marco, which marked the main divisions of the day