“Tom,” he said, “I promised Hanni I wouldn’t let Gus hit the sauce too hard. Now, I persuaded him to persuade the boys to cool it for a few days, since I’m sure they’re planning to contact the CoC here in Venice—small as it probably is—but I don’t think it makes sense to keep everyone grounded for the duration.”
Tom smiled. “Wouldn’t work, anyway. Not with my kids. Chips off the old block.”
Mazzare managed not to wince. “So, could you ask the boys to keep an eye on Gus? Keep him talking, at least, since that seems to keep him from drinking so much?”
Stoner nodded. “I’ll tell them. They’re good about that sort of thing. And they like Gus; they consider him a superannuated jock but without the attitude.”
* * *
Mazzare walked back down to the embassy reception room in a thoughtful frame of mind. On the way, he turned the corner on the staircase and bumped into a small, dark-haired man wearing a pointed yellow hat. Literally bumped into him, since it seemed neither of them was paying much attention to where he was going.
“Please, forgive me,” Mazzare said, “Can I help you?” The man was short and slight and looked—yes, Jewish. He was wearing a distinctly lawyerly gown and had a tooled-leather briefcase under his left arm. That would mean he was—
“Signor Luzzatto?”
“Ah, yes,” said the little man. “Benjamin Luzzatto, at your service. Might I assume that you are Father Mazzare, of Grantville?”
“Indeed. Were you at the ceremonies earlier today?”
“No, Monsignor. Jews were not permitted to be present at that. I watched from a window. Do I find you settling in here?”
Mazzare frowned. “Should I take it up with the doge? I mean, if you’re to be our permanent man here—”
Luzzatto waved a hand. “Oh, please, Monsignor, take no trouble on my account. We must live apart, and are thus subjected to severe overcrowding in the ghetto, but otherwise we suffer only minor disabilities in Venice.”
“Really? I thought the restrictions on Jews were severe.”
“Perhaps I should restate the matter. Yes—officially—the restrictions are indeed severe. We are required to live in the ghetto; may not pursue many vocations; are required to lend money at unprofitable rates. Oh, indeed, it goes on and on.” He shrugged. “In practice? They like to pretend that they have no Jews in La Serenissima, but so long as we are discreet and the pretense is maintained, we are usually left unmolested. In business matters, ‘being discreet’ simply means finding a Christian partner to be the, ah, what is the expression—?”
“Front man,” Mazzare provided, using the English term.
“Yes, precisely.” Luzzatto smiled wryly. “Such a devious language, your dialect of English. I have grown quite fond of it. As I was saying, so long as we are discreet the Venetian authorities ignore most of it. For all their pretensions at nobility, you know, the Case Vecchie are merchants before they are anything else. To tell the truth, other than the overcrowded conditions of the ghetto—which makes it very bad for us in times of epidemic—the only regulation which causes real aggravation is the requirement”—he gestured at his headgear—”that we must wear yellow hats or veils.”
Here, his good humor seemed to slip. “For quite some time now, we have petitioned to have that color changed. It sometimes causes unpleasantness for our women—my own wife was solicited, just yesterday!—since prostitutes are also required by Venetian law to wear yellow veils when practicing their trade on the streets.”
“Oh.” Mazzare thought on that a moment, and decided to drop it for the time being. “Come, let us go to the reception room. There are some people I should like you to meet.”
“That would be the Reverend Jones and Father Heinzerling and Dottores Stone and Nichols, yes?”
“Yes, and some others.” They walked back down the stairs. “Are you from Venice originally?”
“No, I was born in Oporto, where my father was a doctor. We left when I was eight years old, for the City, after the great pardon freed him from jail. Then when I was eighteen I came to Italy to study law at Padua. Ever since, I have been a lawyer and a commercial agent here in Venice.” Luzzatto smiled. “Much less exotic than your own origins, of course.”