The Thief Lord (18 page)

36 The Refuge

Riccio rang the bell and the housekeeper opened the door. His spiky head was hidden behind the huge box he was carrying.

"Don't I know you?" the lady grumbled suspiciously, pushing up her glasses.

"Right!" Riccio gave her his broadest grin. "But this time I'm not here to see you, but Ida Spavento."

"Is that so?" The housekeeper crossed her arms in front of her enormous bosom. "That's Signora Spavento to you, you rascal. And may I ask what you want from her?"

"This should be interesting," said Victor, who was standing behind Riccio with an even bigger box. All the children's belongings had fitted into just three cardboard cartons. Mosca was carrying the third. The two kittens poked their heads out of Victor's coat pockets.

"Tell her that Riccio and Mosca are here. She'll know who we are," Riccio said.

"Riccio and Mosca? That's only two." The big lady scrutinized Victor. "And is he your father?"

"... their uncle," Victor answered. "Could you please call Signora Spavento, before this box falls on my feet? It's really quite heavy."

The housekeeper gave him such a stern look that Victor immediately felt like a little boy. But in the end off she went. When she returned she opened the door wordlessly and waved the three of them inside.

Victor was curious about Ida Spavento. "She's a bit weird," Riccio had told him, "and she smokes like a chimney. But she's really nice."

Victor wasn't too sure about that. Going out in the lagoon with three children in the middle of the night to follow a mysterious man who had sent those little thieves into her house in the first place -- no, that didn't really sound nice to Victor. Crazy, maybe. But nice? No.

But when he saw Ida kneeling on her living room carpet, wearing a sweater that was far too large for her, he liked her. However much he wanted not to.

Ida was leaning over a lineup of photographs. She was pushing them around, swapping them, and sorting some of them out. "Well, isn't this a nice surprise!" she said as Victor and the boys entered. "I didn't expect a visit from you quite so soon. What's in those boxes, and where did you suddenly get an uncle from?" She pushed the photographs together and got up.

Oh dear, Victor thought, she's wearing gondola earrings.

"We're in a lot of trouble, Ida," said Mosca. He put down his carton. Sighing, Riccio did the same.

"Are the fat lady's dogs here?" Riccio asked. "Because Victor has got some kittens in his coat."

"You mean Lucia's dogs? No, we locked them out in the garden because they ate my chocolates." Ida frowned as she looked at the boys. "What kind of trouble? What's happened?"

"Someone told the police about our hideout!" Mosca answered. "And the
Carabinieri
have taken Hornet and Bo. Prosper is desperate because ..."

"Hold on." Ida put her photos on a little table. "I'm still not quite with it this morning. Let me see if I've got this right: You had a hideout, and the police have found it. Were they searching for you? I mean, because of the thefts?"

"No!" Mosca cried. "Because of Bo. His aunt's looking for him. But Bo wants to stay with Prosper. So they both ran away. And we took them in. And it was all OK until last night, but now someone has given our hideout away and Victor has found out that Bo has been taken by his aunt and the police have taken Hornet to the home of the Merciful Sisters and ..."

"...
and
the Conte gave us fake money," Riccio reached into his jacket and held up a wad of cash. "It's all fake."

Ida sank into the second best chair. "Oh, my lord!" she muttered.

Victor couldn't hold back any longer. "These children were in enough trouble already, Signora Spavento," he said firmly, "and you've made it even worse! You had to drag them into this harebrained adventure of yours. A nighttime trip to the Isola Segreta ..."

"Victor, shut up," Mosca interrupted.

Ida had turned bright red under her dyed blonde hair. "You told your uncle everything?" she asked fiercely. "I thought we were friends ..."

"He's not our uncle!" Riccio burst out. "Victor's a detective. He wanted to come with us. And he helped us get our things. And he's found out that the
Carabinieri
have taken Hornet to the Merciful Sisters."

"Hornet. That's the girl who was here with you, right?" Ida fiddled with her earrings. "You know, I didn't quite understand that thing about Bo and the aunt. Maybe you'll have to explain it to me again when I'm a bit more awake. But as for Hornet -- we should be able to do something about that."

Ida got up and fished one of the kittens out of Victor's coat pocket. She carefully placed it on her shoulder and turned to Victor again.

"Fine. What should we do?" She looked as if she expected an answer from him.

Confused, Victor returned her gaze. "What? Us?" he stammered.
"We
can't do anything. Although we could perhaps stop Prosper from jumping into the lagoon. It's just not good enough leaving a bunch of children to look after themselves."

"Putting them in an orphanage doesn't usually do them a lot of good either!" Ida frowned impatiently. "These children need help. Or do you think this whole mess is going to clear up by itself, Signor...?"

"It's Victor," said Riccio. "You may also call him Signor Getz."

Victor gave him an irritated look.

"I should have kept you all here when you turned up in the middle of the night!" Ida said. "But I thought you were doing fine by yourselves. What nonsense! I just like to believe in fairy tales. I'll make it up to you. Lucia will give you something to eat and then you can take your things upstairs. I have a spare room in the attic. Now, what are we going to do about Prosper and the little one? Can't we do something?"

"We definitely can't get to Bo," Victor answered sadly. "His aunt has got custody. But we should keep an eye on his brother. He did look rather desperate the last time we saw him. Riccio, do you think you could find Prosper, even if he's not at the Hotel Sandwirth?"

Riccio nodded. "I'll find him," he said. "And then I'll bring him here."

"Fine." Ida nodded. "That sounds better already. Mosca," she turned to him, "I don't know what your quarrel with Scipio is about, but I think you should call him and tell him what happened last night. Let him know that you're here now. Can you do that?"

Mosca nodded, unenthusiastically. "D'you think I should tell him about the fake money as well?" he asked.

Ida shrugged. "He'll have to find out sometime, right? And now to us." She stubbed her finger against Victor's chest. "How about us two getting moving and trying to get that girl out of the orphanage, Victor or Signor Getz, which do you prefer?"

"Victor's fine," he grumbled. "But what makes you think it's going to be that easy?"

Ida put the kitten on the floor and gave him a wry smile. "Well, I do have a few connections, "she said, "but you don't have to come along if you don't want to. It's just that on occasions like this two adults tend to look a bit more impressive."

Victor looked shiftily at his shoes. "I had some trouble with the Merciful Sisters once," he mumbled. "I was looking for a burglar who liked to dress up as a nun and, unfortunately, I caught a real one instead. We've never been on good terms since then."

Mosca and Riccio nudged each other, grinning. Ida, however, just gave Victor a long look.

"We could disguise ourselves," she suggested. "I have a wardrobe with some props I sometimes use for my photographs. There are also some suits in there. A couple of them are even from the nineteenth century -- old enough for you?"

"I'd prefer the twenty-first," Victor said with a grin.

Ida smiled. "I even have some false beards!" she said. "A whole collection."

"Really?" Victor looked at Riccio. "Mine were stolen recently, but luckily I recovered them today."

Riccio blushed and turned to the window.

Victor followed Ida to a small room on the ground floor that contained nothing but two enormous walk-in wardrobes. While he chose a suit, he thought to himself: Quite astounding that she should also have a collection of false beards.

37 The Orphanage

Hornet was sitting on her allotted bed. She looked at the bare white walls that surrounded her. For the hundredth time, she closed her eyes so she could see another room in her mind's eye, one with a curtain full of stars, and a mattress surrounded by books that whispered their stories to her at night. She recalled the voices: Mosca's, Riccio's -- always a bit excited, Scipio's, Prosper's -- and Bo's voice, the only one higher than hers. Hornet felt the cold white sheets and imagined that she was holding Bo's little hand, so warm...

It probably wasn't colder in the orphanage than it had been in the movie theater, it was warmer more likely, but Hornet felt chilled to her bones. And to her heart. Was Bo better off with his aunt? And what about the others?

Hornet felt her stomach grumble. She hadn't eaten anything since the police had brought her here. Neither the breakfast the sisters had brought her, nor the lunch. Lunch was quite early here. The other children were still down in the dining hall. The smell of food wafted right up to the bedrooms. How much better it had smelted when Mosca made spaghetti, even if he always put too much salt in the water and let the sauce burn.

Hornet stood up and crossed to the window, so she could look down into the courtyard. A couple of pigeons were pecking between the stones. They could fly away anytime, just like that. Then Hornet saw two adults walk through the gate: a woman with a black hat and a bearded man. The sister with the loud voice was leading them toward the main building. Had they come here to adopt a child? They probably wanted a small one, a baby if possible. The little ones had a good chance of finding new parents. The others would have to wait, year by year, days, weeks, months, until they were grown-up. It took so long to grow up.

Hornet pressed her cheek against the cold glass. Although the sisters had kept asking her, she hadn't told them her real name. She definitely didn't want to stay here, but she also didn't want to go home. If, like Riccio, you didn't have parents, it was easy to imagine how wonderful they might have been. But what if you had parents and they weren't wonderful at all? No, she wouldn't tell them her name. Ever.

The door opened. The sister with the loud voice poked her head into the room. "Caterina?"

Hornet jumped. How did she know her name?

"Ah, so that really seems to be your name. Fine, come with me. There's someone who wants to see you!"

"Who is it?" Hornet asked. She wasn't sure whether she should be happy or afraid.

"Why didn't you tell us who your godmother is?" the sister scolded as she walked Hornet down the bare corridor. "Such a famous lady. You probably don't know how much she has done for the orphanage."

Famous? Godmother? Hornet was now completely confused. She had a godmother? The sister seemed to be very excited. She kept fiddling with her glasses -- they had thick lenses that made her eyes look enormous.

"Come on now, Caterina!" The sister impatiently pulled Hornet along. "How much longer do you want to make her wait?"

Hornet wanted to shout out, Who? What's going on? But she swallowed the words as soon as she saw Ida. She almost didn't recognize her at all in that hat. And who was the man next to her?

"It seems that you were right, Signora Spavento!" the sister boomed loudly. "The name of our anonymous girl really is Caterina. So this is your goddaughter?"

Hornet suddenly felt as light as air. She wanted to run to Ida and hug her, hide underneath her wide coat and never come out. But she was afraid to spoil it, and so she just smiled shyly and walked hesitantly toward Ida and her strange companion.

"Yes, that's her.
Cara!
Sweetheart!" Ida spread her arms and held her so tightly that Hornet felt all the warmth return to her heart.

"Hello, Hornet," the strange man at Ida's side whispered. Hornet looked up into his face with surprise -- and now she recognized him too: Victor, the snoop, with a new beard! Bo's friend Victor. Her friend now too.

"This is my lawyer,
cara,"
Ida explained after she had let go of Hornet.

Hornet mumbled
"Buongiorno"
and smiled at Victor.

"Why do you always take your parents' little quarrels so seriously,
cara?"
Ida asked. She sighed deeply, as if she had already had to talk to Hornet too often about her silly parents. "She's run away three times already because of their little tiffs," Ida explained to the nun, who was looking at Hornet with deep sympathy. "Her mother, who is my cousin, will get divorced soon, and until then I will take the girl in. Otherwise she'll probably run away again, and who knows where the police might find her then. Last time, they found her hiding somewhere in Burano. Imagine!"

Hornet was in seventh heaven as she listened to these lies. All the time she held on to Ida's hand as if she would never let it go. Ida's story sounded so true that, for a moment, Hornet herself almost believed in these quarreling parents.

The sister with the loud voice had tears in her eyes.

"Can I take Caterina with me right away?" Ida asked, as if it was the most natural question in the world.

"But of course, Signora Spavento," the sister answered. "We are so happy we could, for once, be of service to you. After all your generous donations. And the photographs you took of the children -- I tell you they all treasure them."

"Don't mention it." Ida avoided Hornet's curious looks. "Please give my regards to Sister Angela and Sister Lucia and also the Mother Superior. Just send any papers that need signing."

"Of course!" the sister hurried to the door and held it for Ida. "Have a nice day, Mr. Lawyer."

"Thank you," said Victor, trying to look dignified.

Hornet's heart was beating wildly as they crossed the courtyard. Countless windows looked down at the pavement. Gray windows, empty except for a few Christmas stars stuck to the panes on the ground floor.

"So many windows," Victor muttered sadly. "So many windows, and so many children."

"Yes, and nobody to take them in their arms and be grateful for them every day," said Ida. "What a waste."

"Arrivederci,
Signora Spavento -- until next time!" called the sister who had run out of the porter's lodge to open the gate for them.

"Heavens!" Victor grunted as they passed through the gate. "They treat you like a saint!"

Hornet tore herself away from him. Suddenly, she was in a great hurry. She ran to the nearest canal, spat into the water, looked at the boats cruising on the Grand Canal, and took a deep breath. For a moment she just stood there, her lungs filled with the fresh, damp air.

Then she breathed out slowly, very slowly, and all the fear and the desperation that had crept into her since the police had brought her to the orphanage left her. But then she remembered Bo.

She turned around and looked at Victor and Ida. "What about Bo?" she asked. "And what about the others?"

Victor tugged the false beard from his chin. "Mosca and Riccio are at Ida's," he said. "But Bo is still with his aunt."

Hornet hung her head and kicked a cigarette butt angrily into the canal. "And Prosper?" she asked.

"Riccio is looking for him," Victor answered. "Don't look so worried. He'll find him.'