Free Guardia: A Novel of Renaissance Italy by Michael Crews Page B

chamber. It was so…exotic. I can’t describe it. There were games, alcohol, girls. My god, the girls were beautiful. I find Ugo and the other men, and he tells us that we’re in the ganea , whatever that means. But soon the wine is flowing and music is playing. Ugo is playing cards and he beckons me to join him. I’m…my memory, it gets a little hazy after this.”
    “Try to remember,” I said.
    “It must have been hours. I’ve been gambling, and I lose track of everything. Time. My money. I ended up borrowing some money from one of the usurers there. I didn’t know any better, I could barely stand up at that point. Damn Ugo, he should have known! But he was too busy enjoying himself. At that point I don’t even know what happened to the other men. It was just me in my daze, and I’m throwing away more money than I’ve ever seen in my life. That was when I blacked out.”
    “How did you get home?”
    “I didn’t. I woke up outside the Porta San Gallo, alone and with all my valuables gone. As soon as the gates were opened I ran home and changed my clothing, then hurried to work. My wife, well she was furious of course. But aside from that, I thought I was safe and was ready to forget that night. I ignored Ugo after that, and stopped going out altogether. But he still found me.”
    “The usurer,” I said.
    He sighed. “Yes. Carlo. Il Coltello. He found me and demanded payment. He accused me of trying to hide from him. I told him no, I didn’t know what he was talking about. This infuriated him, so he…he…”
    “What is it?”
    “I’ll show you.” The man looked down at his left hand, then slowly pulled the glove off. At once I saw that two of his fingers, the ring and little fingers to be exact, had been cut off at the first knuckle. “He did this to me, and demanded that I begin paying at once. I’m not a rich man, signore, and since then I’ve been paying every soldo I can manage to keep him from hurting me or my family again. It’s been very hard for us, and we’re barely able to keep food on the table. But I’m telling you this because that man Carlo has ruined my life, and because I know that it was he who murdered Ugo.”
    I paused to process the incredible tale that this man had just recounted. “How do you know for certain that it was Carlo?”
    “It’s one of the few things that I remember clearly, but Ugo and this usurer had a scuffle at the ganea. Carlo demanded repayment on a loan. ‘I know it’s you, you son of a whore,’ he said. Ugo lashed out at him, cursing him, calling him a liar and a fraud. Carlo even drew his blade but was pulled away by the host's lackeys. ‘You’re a dead man, Ugo,’ I heard him shout. It’s the last coherent thing I can recall from that night.”
    “Is there anything else you can remember? Any idea where this place could have been? The farm where you waited for the carriage?”
    “No, I have no idea where this place was, just that it was about an hour or more by carriage from the city. As for the farm, I do know that the meeting place is random and they never meet at the same place twice. It’s all very secret. I can’t help you any more, though, and I really must be heading back to work. Please, if you have any respect for me or my family, you must say nothing about our meeting.”
    “Very well,” I said. “Thank you for your information. We’ll do whatever we can to find Carlo.”
    “Thank you. God bless you, signori.” The man turned and disappeared into the foot traffic that flowed to and from the bridge. For safety’s sake Pietro and I waited a few minutes in the alley.
    “What do you think, Pietro?”
    “His story is hard to believe. I’ve never heard such a thing.”
    I remembered the old days, when I was a troubled boy. I had been to secret meetings before, where gang initiations were held and fights and drinking and gambling took place. There were small gatherings held all over the city each night. Though not technically