The Thief Lord Part 3

Riccio called after him, "What are you talking about?"

"He's after us!" Prosper gasped. "He was trying to hide, but I saw him."

Riccio looked around for their pursuer but all he could see were bored faces staring into shop windows and a bunch of giggling schoolchildren.

"Prop, this is really stupid!" He caught up with Prosper and blocked his path. "Calm down, OK? You're seeing things."

But Prosper didn't answer.

"Come on," he hissed. He dragged Riccio into an alley so narrow that Barbarossa would certainly have gotten stuck in it. The wind whistled past them. Riccio knew where this tiny pa.s.sage led: into a labyrinth of alleys that could confuse even a Venetian. It wasn't a bad route if you wanted to lose someone. But Prosper had stopped again. He flattened himself against the wall and watched the people pa.s.sing by the entrance to the pa.s.sage.

"And what are you doing now?" Riccio leaned against the wall next to Prosper. He s.h.i.+vered and pulled the sleeves of his sweater over his hands.

"When he walks past, I'll point him out to you."

"And then?"

"If he sees us, we run."

"Great plan!" Riccio said sarcastically. He pushed his tongue nervously into the gap in his front teeth. He had lost that tooth during a chase.

"Let's just go now," he whispered to Prosper. "The others are waiting for us."

But Prosper didn't move.

The schoolchildren skipped past the alley. Then the nuns walked past. And then came the short and stocky man, with big feet and walrus mustache. He looked around, he stood on his toes, he craned his neck, and then he cursed.

The boys hardly dared to breathe. Finally, the man walked on.

Riccio was the first to move. "I know him!" he hissed quietly. "Let's get away from here before he comes back."

Prosper stumbled after him, his heart beating like mad. Soon he had completely lost his bearings, but Riccio kept running as if he knew the way through the maze of alleys and bridges by heart. Suddenly, they stumbled back into bright sunlight. Ahead of them lay the Grand Ca.n.a.l. Its banks were crowded with people and its glittering surface teemed with boats.

Riccio pulled Prosper toward a vaporetto vaporetto stop. Soon they disappeared into the throng of people waiting for the next boat. stop. Soon they disappeared into the throng of people waiting for the next boat.

Prosper scrutinized every face pa.s.sing by, but their pursuer wasn't among them. When the next vaporetto vaporetto finally arrived, the boys smuggled themselves onto the boat with the crowd. While the other pa.s.sengers scrambled after the few remaining free seats in the roofed section of the boat, Prosper and Riccio walked up to the deck rail and kept a close eye on the bank of the ca.n.a.l. finally arrived, the boys smuggled themselves onto the boat with the crowd. While the other pa.s.sengers scrambled after the few remaining free seats in the roofed section of the boat, Prosper and Riccio walked up to the deck rail and kept a close eye on the bank of the ca.n.a.l.

"We don't have a ticket," Prosper whispered when the fully loaded boat cast off.

"Doesn't matter," Riccio whispered back, "we're getting off at the next stop anyway. But look who's standing over there." He pointed toward the stop. "Do you see him?"

Oh yes, Prosper saw him quite clearly. There was the walrus mustache, squinting after the departing boat. Riccio gave him a hearty wave.

Prosper pulled Riccio's arm down. "What are you doing?"

"Why? You think he's going to swim after us? No, my friend. That's the good thing about this city. If someone is after you, all you have to do is cross the ca.n.a.l, and the other fool's had it! Even you should know by now that there are only two bridges across the Grand Ca.n.a.l!"

Prosper didn't reply. The stranger had long vanished out of sight but Prosper kept staring toward the bank just in case he suddenly appeared between the elegant columns of one of the palaces, or on a hotel balcony, or even on one of the oncoming boats. Prosper was worried.

"Stop looking like that. We've lost the snoop!" Riccio shook his friend by the shoulder until he turned back.

Prosper stared at Riccio anxiously. "So you know who he is?"

Riccio leaned against the rail. "Yeah -- he's a detective. He works for the tourists -- looking for lost handbags and wallets. He nearly caught me with one once." Riccio pulled his ear and grinned. "But, he's not very fast." He gave Prosper a curious look. "It did look, well, as if he was after you. What would a detective want with you? Is someone looking for you?"

Prosper gazed at the sh.o.r.e again. The vaporetto vaporetto steered sluggishly toward the next stop. "There might be," he said, without looking at Riccio. A swarm of gulls took to the air with a great noise as the boat drifted toward the jetty. steered sluggishly toward the next stop. "There might be," he said, without looking at Riccio. A swarm of gulls took to the air with a great noise as the boat drifted toward the jetty.

"Let's get off here," Riccio said. They jumped off the boat while the new pa.s.sengers were already pus.h.i.+ng aboard.

"h.e.l.l! The others are probably thinking we've taken Scipio's loot and split," Riccio said as they turned their backs on the Grand Ca.n.a.l again. "Our little boat trip hasn't made our way back any shorter." He gave Prosper another quizzical look. "Do you feel like telling me who could have put that detective on your trail? What have you done? Did you steal something?"

"Come on, you know I don't steal -- not if I can help it." Prosper put his hand into his jacket and, relieved, pulled it out again. Barbarossa's money was still there.

"Yeah, I know." Riccio frowned. Then he lowered his voice. "Is it one of those child-slave traders?"

Prosper looked shocked. "No. Don't be silly. It's really not that bad." He stared back at a gargoyle that was eyeing him from a stone archway. "I think my aunt Esther is looking for us. She's my mom's sister. She's got loads of money and no children. When my mom died, she wanted to adopt Bo. They were going to send me to a boarding school. So we ran away. What was I supposed to do? He's my little brother." Prosper stopped. "Do you think Esther ever asked Bo whether he wanted her to be his new mom? He can't stand her. He says she smells like paint. And," he smiled, "that she looks like one of those china dolls she collects."

He bent down and picked up a plastic fan from a doorstep. The handle was gone, but Bo wouldn't mind that.

"Bo thinks I can take care of everything," he said, stuffing his find into his pocket. "But if Hornet hadn't found us..."

"Come on, stop worrying about the snoop!" Riccio pulled him along. "He won't find you again. Simple: We'll dye Bo's angel hair black and we'll paint your face so you look like Mosca's twin brother."

Prosper laughed. Riccio could always make him laugh, even if he didn't feel like it. "Do you sometimes wish you were grown-up?" he asked as they crossed a bridge and looked down at its hazy reflection on the water.

Riccio shook his head with astonishment. "No. Why? It's great being young. You don't stand out so much and your stomach fills up more quickly. You know what Scipio always says?" He jumped from the bridge onto the street. "Children are caterpillars and adults are b.u.t.terflies. No b.u.t.terfly ever remembers what it felt like being a caterpillar."

"Probably not," Prosper sighed.

"Don't tell Bo anything about the detective, OK?"

Riccio nodded.

7 Bad Luck for Victor

Once Victor realized that Prosper had gotten away, he kicked the nearest wooden post he could find, sprained his foot -- and then hobbled home.

He kept muttering to himself most of the way. People turned their heads, but Victor didn't notice. "Like a lousy amateur," he grunted. "You just let that boy shake you off like a stupid amateur. And who was the other one? Too big to be his little brother. Darn it, darn it, and darn it again! The boy stumbles right into your arms and you let him get away. Stupid idiot!" He kicked an empty cigarette packet with his sprained foot and his face twisted up in pain. "Your own stupid fault," he growled. "Yes, you've only got yourself to blame. No decent detective chases after children. You could pay for tortoise feed even without this blasted job."

Victor's foot was still hurting badly when he opened his front door. "Well, at least now I know they're here," he grumbled as he limped up the stairs. "And if the big one's here, then the small one will be too, that's for sure."

Once in his apartment, he pulled off his shoes and staggered on to the balcony to feed his tortoises. His office still smelled of Esther Hartlieb's hairspray. Phew, he just couldn't get that smell out of his nose.

The boys haunted him day and night. He shouldn't have put their picture up on the wall -- they were always looking at him. Where did they sleep at night? It was already getting quite cold in the evenings, as soon as the sun vanished behind the houses. And because it had rained so much the previous winter the city had flooded a dozen times. Still, Venice had lots of nooks and crannies, like an old rabbit warren. There was always some dry place for two children. Some abandoned house. Or one of the many churches. Not all of them were swarming with tourists.

"I'm going to find them," Victor swore. "Simple as that!"

Once his tortoises were fed, he stuffed himself with mounds of spaghetti and fried sausages. Then he applied some ointment to his aching foot and sat down at his desk to do some of the paperwork that had piled up. After all, he still had other jobs apart from searching for those boys.

Perhaps I should sit on the Piazza San Marco more often over the next few days, Victor thought, drink some coffee, feed the pigeons, and wait for them to turn up. Everyone in Venice comes to St. Mark's Square at least once a day. Why shouldn't that also be true for runaway children?"

8 Scipio's Answer

When Prosper and Riccio finally returned to the Star-Palace, Bo immediately came rus.h.i.+ng to greet them and so, for the time being, they did not tell the others about the detective who had delayed them. But the long wait was quickly forgotten anyway, when Prosper pulled the money from his jacket that he had w.a.n.gled out of the redbeard. They sat around him, lost for words, while Riccio, who pa.s.sed around the remaining pastries, recounted in great detail how Prosper had coolly held his own against Barbarossa.

"And anyway," Riccio declared as he came to the end, "the fat liar does dye his beard after all. So I get three brand-new comics from you, Hornet -- you haven't forgotten our bet, have you?"

About two hours after Prosper and Riccio's return the bell at the entrance rang and the Thief Lord was at the front door, just as he had promised. And, for once, he had arrived before the moon was already high above the roofs of the city. Of course Mosca opened the door without asking for the pa.s.sword and earned himself a terrible telling off. But when Bo came running excitedly toward him, Barbarossa's wad of money in his hands, even Scipio was silenced. He took the money with an amazed expression and counted every single note.

"Well, what do you say to that? You look as if you've seen a ghost," Mosca teased. "Now you can tell Hornet to buy some paint for my boat!"

"Your boat? Sure, sure, of course." Scipio nodded absentmindedly before turning to Prosper and Riccio. "Was there anything Barbarossa liked especially?"

"Yes, he was really taken by the sugar tongs," Riccio answered. "He said you should bring him things like that more often."

Scipio frowned. "The sugar tongs," he murmured, "yes, they were probably quite valuable." He shook his head as if he wanted to get rid of a troublesome thought. "Riccio," he said, "go and buy some olives and spicy sausage. We've got to celebrate. I haven't much time, so hurry."

Riccio quickly stuffed two of Barbarossa's bills into his pocket and dashed off. When he came back with a plastic bag full of olives, bread, pepper-red salami, and a bag of mandorlati, mandorlati, the chocolates wrapped in colorful paper that Scipio liked so much, the others had already spread the cus.h.i.+ons and blankets in front of the curtain. Bo and Hornet had gathered all the candles they could find and their flickering light filled the movie theater with dancing shadows. the chocolates wrapped in colorful paper that Scipio liked so much, the others had already spread the cus.h.i.+ons and blankets in front of the curtain. Bo and Hornet had gathered all the candles they could find and their flickering light filled the movie theater with dancing shadows.

"Here's to a few carefree months!" Hornet said once they had all gathered in a circle. She poured grape juice into the red goblets Scipio had brought back from one of his previous raids. Then she raised her gla.s.s to Prosper. "And here's to you, because you got the redbeard to part with all that money -- it usually sticks to his fat fingers like chewing gum."

Riccio and Mosca also raised their gla.s.ses. Prosper didn't know where to look. Bo, however, leaned proudly against his big brother and put one of the kittens that Scipio had given him on his knee.

"Yes, here's to you, Prop!" Scipio said, now also raising his gla.s.s. "Herewith I name you my chief loot-seller. However," he fondled the wad of money with his fingers, "I'm thinking that it might be wise to take a break after a raid like this." For a moment he fell silent and then added, "A thief should never become too greedy, or he'll get caught."

"But you can't stop -- not just now!" Riccio pretended not to notice Prosper's fierce warning glance. "Barbarossa told us something interesting today."

"And what was that?" Scipio popped an olive into his mouth and spat the pit into his hand.

"A customer of his is looking for a thief. The deal is supposed to be very good, and we're supposed to ask you whether you'd be interested."

Scipio gave Riccio a surprised look -- but remained silent.

"Sounds good, doesn't it?" Riccio stuffed a slice of the sausage into his mouth. Its spiciness made his eyes water. He quickly handed his empty gla.s.s to Hornet.

Scipio still hadn't said anything. He stroked his hair thoughtfully and fiddled with the ribbon around his ponytail. Then he cleared his throat. "Interesting," he said. "A job for a thief -- why not? What will I have to steal?"

"No idea." Riccio rubbed his greasy fingers on his pant legs. "Not even the redbeard knows anything about it yet. But he seems to think that the Thief Lord is just the man for the job." Riccio grinned. "The fatso probably imagines you're a huge guy with a stocking on his head who creeps around the pillars of the Doge's Palace like a cat. Anyway, he wants a quick answer."

They all looked at Scipio. He just sat there and toyed with his mask. Lost in thought, he stroked its long, bent nose. It was so quiet that you could hear the crackle of the candles. "Yes, that is indeed quite interesting," he wondered aloud. "Yes, why not?"

Prosper watched him uneasily. He still had that feeling that something dark and threatening was moving in on them. Trouble...and danger...

Scipio seemed to read his mind. "What do you think of all this, Prop?" he asked.

"Not much," Prosper answered. "I don't trust Barbarossa." He could hardly say: because I don't think much of stealing. After all, he lived off Scipio being such a master of it.

Scipio nodded.

Just then Bo, of all people, let Prosper down. "So what?" he said. He kneeled next to Scipio, his eyes s.h.i.+ny with excitement. "It'll be easy for you, won't it? Right, Scip?"

Scipio had to smile. He took the kitten out of Bo's arms and placed it on his lap, stroking its tiny ears.

"And I will help you!" Bo moved even closer to Scipio. "Right, Scip? I'll come with you."

"Bo! Stop talking such complete nonsense!" Prosper shouted at him. "You're not going anywhere, is that clear? And you're definitely not going to do anything dangerous."

"You bet I will!" Bo made a face at his brother and folded his arms defiantly.

Scipio still hadn't said anything.

Mosca smoothed out one of the colorful mandorlati mandorlati wrappers. Riccio pushed his tongue through the gap in his teeth and kept his eyes fixed on Scipio. wrappers. Riccio pushed his tongue through the gap in his teeth and kept his eyes fixed on Scipio.

"I agree with Prosper," Hornet said breaking into the silence. "There's no reason to take any more risks. We've got enough money for now."

Scipio examined his mask and poked a finger into one of its hollow eyes. "I will will take the job," he said. "Riccio, you will go to Barbarossa tomorrow morning and give him my reply." take the job," he said. "Riccio, you will go to Barbarossa tomorrow morning and give him my reply."

Riccio nodded. His scrawny face beamed all over. "And this time you'll take us along, won't you?" he asked. "Please! I'd love to see a big, fine house from the inside --just once."

"Yes, I'd like that too." Mosca gazed dreamily up at the curtain, which was glittering in the candlelight as if it were covered in golden spider's threads. "I've often wondered what it must be like. I've heard that in some of the houses the floors are paved with gold and that they have real diamonds on the doork.n.o.bs."

"Well, go to the Scuola di San Rocco if you want to see things like that!" Hornet gave the boys an angry look. "Scipio just said himself, he should take a break for a while. After all, they're probably still looking for the man who broke into the Palazzo Contarini. Another break-in would be madness right now. Just stupid!" She turned to Scipio. "If Barbarossa knew that the Thief Lord hasn't got a single hair on his chin and doesn't reach up to his shoulder even in a pair of high-heeled boots, he would have never asked him anyway ..."

"Oh yeah?" Scipio straightened himself up as if that would prove Hornet wrong. "Did you know that Alexander the Great was smaller than me? He had to push a table in front of the Persian throne so he could climb on to it. I've made my decision. Tell Barbarossa that the Thief Lord will take the job. I have to go now, but I will be back tomorrow." He started to leave, but Hornet stood in his way.

"Now listen," she said quietly. "Maybe you're a better thief than all the grown-up thieves in this city, but when Barbarossa sees you in your high heels with all your grown-up playacting, he'll just laugh at you."

The others looked at Scipio in embarra.s.sment. Never before had any of them dared to talk to him like that.

Scipio stood completely still and stared straight at Hornet. Then his mouth twisted into a sneer. "Well, the redbeard is not going to see me!" he said, pulling the mask over his face. "And should he ever dare to laugh at me then I'll just spit into his moon face and laugh right back at him, twice as loud. He is just a fat, old man. I am the Thief Lord." With a sudden spin he turned his back on Hornet and stalked off. "I'll be quite late tomorrow," he called over his shoulder.

Then he was swallowed by the shadows.

9 Everybody Is Small at Night

In the middle of the night, while everybody was asleep, Prosper got up. He pulled the blanket over Bo's exposed feet and fished his flashlight from underneath the pillows. Then he put on his jacket and crept past the others. Riccio was tossing and turning in his sleep and Mosca was holding on tight to his sea horse. One of Bo's kittens was sleeping on Hornet's pillow, its head hidden in her brown hair.