I was standing in the rain, hat pulled down to keep my face from getting too drenched. Shasta was glowering at my side. I had come with Prosper, Riccio and Hornet to meet Scipio at Ida's house. Of course, I knew that he wouldn't come, so I didn't have to go, you know. Though, I didn't have anything else to do, so…

It had been no more than two days since we had caught Victor, and during the time that had passed I was either playing with Prosper and Bo or sitting in my room with Shasta. It had been very boring.

Speaking of Shasta, he suddenly growled as the fat housekeeper and her three dogs came into view across the square. He had never liked yapping dogs, and these three were crying to raise the dead.

"Here's a piece of good luck!" Riccio whispered.

"I don't like those dogs," Hornet breathed to no one in particular. "What if they're still in the house when we go in? They're small, but big enough to bite."

"We can take care of them." Riccio smoothed his shaggy hair, and gave us a wink. "Wait here."

"What are you doing?" Hornet hissed. "Don't be stupid."

But Riccio was already strolling across the square. I sighed and watched. He seemed to be looking everywhere 'cept at the housekeeper, who was obviously struggling to keep up with her dogs. "Watch out!" she shouted.

Riccio paid no attention to her. Just as she attempted to steer past him, he stepped right into her way so that there was no chance for her to avoid him. I watched as they collided. The stuffed bags landed on the square and the dogs immediately shot towards Shasta, who snarled at them to keep away. They didn't pay attention, and began to pull him down—he knew not to fight with them, and therefore he was dragged underneath them. They chewed at his ears, which I knew annoyed him, so much.

"What's the hedgehog doing?" Hornet whispered to Prosper as Riccio ran eagerly after the cabbages while the signora, cursing loudly, bent over to pick up the apples.

Now we could hear the fat lady cursing, "What the devil were you thinking, running into me like that?"

I chuckled, whether at Shasta's plight or the housekeeper's, even I wasn't sure.

"Scusi!" Riccio gave her a smile so broad that it showed off all his disgusting teeth. "I'm just looking for the dentist. Dr. Spavento. Is that his house there?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" the lady snapped at him. "There's no dentist in there. Mind you, you look like you need one badly. That's the house of Signora Ida Spavento. Now, get out of my way before I throw one of these cabbages at you."

"I'm terribly sorry, Signora." Riccio suddenly looked very downtrodden. Even I nearly fell for it—he was almost as good as Bo. "May I help you with those bags?"

"Well, now look at that! A real gentleman!" The lady tucked a gray strand of hair out of her face. She was already looking slightly more favorably at Riccio. But then she frowned again. "Hold on. You don't think you're going to earn something out of this, you little rascal?"

Of course, Signora, I do, you just don't, I thought to myself. It would end in us having a more accurate layout of the house.

Riccio looked sincerely hurt and shook his head vigorously. "No way, Signora!"

"All right then, I might just take you up on your offer." Signora Spavento's housekeeper passed Riccio the shopping bags and then I rescued Shasta from his tormentors. I took their leashes and then walked them over to the housekeeper.

"I believe these are yours?" I said cheerfully, a smile spreading on my face. I didn't feel like smiling, though… I missed Scipio, and the gloomy atmosphere was just giving off that...atmosphere.

She took the leashes and wrapped them tightly around her plump wrist. "Yes, they are," she said.

I nodded and pretended to listen. "Have a nice day—I hear my mother calling," I said smoothly, and then walked away again.

"It's not every day a real gentleman crosses my path," I heard Ida's housekeeper say to Riccio. Prosper and Hornet walked after them, Hornet shooting an inquiring look at me over her shoulder—but I had already knelt down next to Shasta. He grumbled and nosed my neck, trying to get his face out of the rain. I laughed weakly and took my hat off, placing it on his head.

"There," I said, rocking back on my heels. "You look very dashing." He grinned at me, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, as though saying 'I know I am!' I shook my head.

When Riccio and the others came back, Riccio told us all he had found out. When Prosper said, "It's nearly one o'clock, and Scipio still isn't here. I hope nothing's happened," I pressed my lips together and didn't say anything. We waited for another half hour. Then, the others feeling anxious, we made our way to Victor's apartment to feed his deserted tortoise.

"I don't get it," Riccio said as we stood in front of Victor's house. "What could have happened to Scipio?"

As we struggled up the steep staircase to Victor's office, Hornet panted, "It's probably nothing. He's often late when we arrange to meet at the hideout." But she was worried. I was too busy cursing the stairs to care, really.

Riccio picked Victor's lock. Once inside, we saw that Victor's tortoise husband really looked quite lonely—I wanted to say, "Aww…" He hardly poked his head out of his shell when Prosper and Hornet bent over his box. Only when Prop offered him a lettuce leaf did his wrinkly neck come out.

Riccio ignored the tortoise. Instead, he tried Victor's disguises in front of the mirror. I snorted as he tried to act out the character he looked like; a gruff old man, a swindler, and even the Redbeard. "And how do I look now?" Riccio asked, stroking a full reddish beard—not the same one as the 'red-beard' one.

"Like a gnome," Hornet answered. I giggled.

She pulled a book from the shelf where Victor kept his well-thumbed crime novels. Then she made herself comfortable on one of Victor's chairs and settled down to read. Terrible taste—no Lord Peter titles...Tsk tsk, Victor… I spotted an Agatha Christie, Miss Marple novel that I hadn't finished and snatched it up, flipping to the general spot where I had left off. Then I sat down against Shasta's wet back and began to read, keeping an ear out for the phone.

"Let it ring," Hornet said. She smiled. "It's not going to be for us, is it?"

Ten minutes later, the phone rang again just as Prosper found a transparent cover with a photograph of him and his brother. Mesmerized, he stared at the picture. I glanced up, and then went back to reading. It was The Moving Finger. Of course, I had read it before, but hey, when you stop in the middle (even if you have read it before) you've got to finish, right?

Finally, when Hornet picked up the phone, I closed the book and listened. "Pronto!" she said in a low voice. "Victor Getz's office. How can I help you?

"What was your name? Hartlieb?" She pressed the speaker button. I jumped when Esther's voice screeched through the office. Shasta whimpered softly, putting his head under his paws.

"…have been trying for days to reach Mr. Getz. He told me he was on the boys' trail. He even told me he would send me a picture he took of the two of them in St. Mark's Square…."

The others exchanged shocked, worried looks. Hornet looked at me and mouthed, What should I say?

I nodded at her. "Mr. Getz is not here at the moment, Signora," I said politely. "He has been very busy over the past few days, with new leads on your case. Currently he is looking into a possible hiding place of theirs—and it is looking extremely promising."

There was silence for a moment. We hardly dared to breathe.

"Well, that's very interesting," she replied, "but I would really rather receive that information from Mr. Getz himself. Please put me through."

"I'm sorry, Signora," Hornet said, calming down slightly, catching on to my plan. "But as we already said, Mr. Getz is not here at the moment. Maybe you might try again in a week's time—"

"Now listen here, whoever you are," Esther's voice cut through the air like a knife, "I've already left a message for Mr. Getz on the answering machine, but it can't do any harm to leave it a second time. My husband will be back in Venice on business in two days' time. I will meet Mr. Getz on Tuesday in the Hotel Sandwirth, three o'clock sharp! Good day." Then there was a sharp click on the line.

"What's with these people and three o'clock?" I asked, breaking the miserable silence that hung over us.

"We've got to go," said Prosper. He put the files back where he had found them. Hornet gave him an anxious look, but then she ran over to Victor's shelf and stuffed a few books under her pullover.

"Wouldn't it be great if someone really nice was after you like that?" Riccio pushed his tongue into the gap in his teeth. "Some nice filthy-rich uncle or grandfather, just like in the stories Hornet reads to us."

"Esther is rich," Prosper said as he held the door open.

"Really?" Riccio stuffed Victor's beards into a backpack. "Could you ask her if she'd take me instead of Bo? I'm not much bigger than him and I don't ask for much. Just as long as she doesn't hit me."

"She wouldn't do that," Prosper said as he looked through the drawers once more. "What photograph was she talking about? I knew he had photographed Bo feeding the pigeons. Riccio, take that camera. Maybe the picture's still in there."

Riccio hung the camera around his neck and stood once more in front of Victor's mirror. "Buongiorno Signora Esther!" he said, smiling and tightly closing his mouth so that no one could see his bad teeth. "Would you like to be my mother? I hear you don't hit children and you have lots of money."

"Forget it!" Hornet said to him as she looked over her shoulder. "Prosper's aunt wants a little teddy bear and not a hedgehog with bad teeth. Come on, let's get out of here. We'll take the tortoise with us since the snoop is our prisoner."

"Maybe Scipio has already turned up at the hideout!" Riccio said hopefully as he walked out of Victor's office. I felt bad for Riccio, hearing the hope in his voice, and almost considered writing that Scipio did come. Almost.

"Perhaps," Prosper replied.

But none of us really believed it.

Bo opened the door for us when we got back to the Stella.

"Bo!" Prosper exclaimed. "I told you not to come to the door! Where's Mosca?"

"I had to answer the door; Mosca's busy," Bo said, scrunching up his face as Shasta licked him. "Victor's showing him how to repair his radio." Then he and Shasta bounded away, Bo whistling to himself while Shasta weaved around him.

When Prosper, Hornet, Riccio and I reached the auditorium we found the door to the men's bathroom wide open. Mosca's laughter rebounded around the room.

"I don't believe it!" Riccio shouted. He was standing in front of the open door, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. "What on earth are you up to, Mosca? Is that your idea of keeping watch? Who said you can untie him?"

Mosca jumped and turned around, surprise clear on his face. He was kneeling next to Victor on the blanket and his hand was stretched out, screwdriver in hand, ready to be passed to Victor. "Calm down, Riccio. He gave me his word of honor that he wouldn't run away!" he said. "Victor knows a lot about radios and I think he can fix it."

"To heck with your radio!" Riccio shouted. "And to heck with his word of honor. He's going to be tied up again right now!" He stomped his foot in impatience and irritation.

"Listen, Hedgehog," Victor groaned, struggling to get up on his stiff legs. I slid forward and held out my arm to help him up. "No one disrespects my word of honor, understood? You can always trust Victor Getz's word of honor, one hundred percent."

"Exactly!" Bo stood in front of Victor as though he was going to protect the detective. I remained there as Victor's legs wobbled slightly; therefore Shasta remained by my side. "He's our friend now!" Bo added.

"Friend?" Riccio gasped for air. "Have you gone completely crazy, you silly baby? He's our prisoner: our enemy!"

Bo blinked, shocked that Riccio had called him a baby. His face darkened.

"Stop it, Riccio!" Hornet interrupted, taking Bo's hand. "The ropes are stupid. We may as well must lock him in. He's a bit too fat to climb out of the bathroom window anyway, don't you think?"

Riccio didn't answer, only folded his arms and huffed. "We'll see what Scipio has to say about this!" he said suddenly. "Maybe you'll listen to him." He shot me a pointed look, which I returned with a stony face.

"Oh, so just because we're together means that he's in charge of me?" I hissed. He glared at me.

"Rae," Prosper soothed. I took a deep breath and sighed. "And that's only if Scipio turns up," he added.

"What?" Mosca asked, getting to his feet. "I thought you were going to meet him."

"We waited for two hours by the newsstand," Hornet said gloomily, "but he never came."

"Well, well," Victor murmured, kneeling down in front of the radio again. "Well, well, well. But I hope you didn't forget my tortoise."

'No, we even brought him with us," Prosper said slowly. "What was that 'well, well, well' supposed to mean?" Following Prosper's last question, I narrowed my eyes at Victor, even though I knew the truth already. He pointedly ignored me, shrugging and tightening another screw.

"Spit it out!" Riccio barked at him. "Or your tortoise has just had its last meal."

Victor turned around very slowly. "Aren't you a charming little fellow?" he said sarcastically. "How much do you really know about your leader?" He shot me a glance. I clenched my jaw and was silent, staring at a tile on the floor as I leaned against a dirty wall. Prosper shot me a look, too. Hornet opened her mouth, but Victor held up his hand. "Yes, I know, he's not really your leader. I got that. But that wasn't the question. So, once more… How much do you know about him?"

Everyone looked at each other.

"What should we know about him?" Mosca asked quietly. "None of us talk much about the past. Scipio grew up in an orphanage, just like Riccio. He did tell us about it once. He ran away when he was eight and since then he's been looking after himself. He lived with an old thief for a while who taught him everything he needed to survive. When the old man died, Scipio stole the best gondola from the Grand Canal and laid the old thief in it. Then he let him drift out on to the lagoon. Since then he's been by himself."

I saw my reflection in the cracked mirror—a pained smirk was on my face. It disappeared into a grimace. Scipio was a good story-teller; but it hurt to know how hard the others would take it when they learned it was just that: a story.

"And goes by the name of the Thief Lord," Victor said. "So he lives by stealing things… Which means you do too."

"As if we'd tell you that!" Riccio said coldly. "And what if we do? You could never catch Scipio, even if you tried a hundred times. No one can match him. Barbarossa gave us four hundred thousand lire for his last loot. What do you say to that?"

Mosca elbowed Riccio's side, but it was too late.

"Barbarossa, that old scoundrel. Well, well," Victor said under his breath. "So you know him too. You know what? I bet my tortoises that I can tell you where Scipio stole those things."

Riccio squinted at him suspiciously, and Prosper's stare was burning a hole in me. He knew something was up, that I knew more than I was letting on… He was smart, and no matter how much he liked me he knew something was off.

And now, was he guessing that this was it?

"So? It was in all the newspapers, that's no big deal," Riccio said. Mosca gave him another shove, but the hedgehog was far too worked up to notice.

"In the newspapers?" Victor lifted his eyebrows. "Oh, you probably mean the break-in at the Palazzo Contarini?" He laughed. "Did Scipio tell you he did that?"

My sneakers were sliding on the tiles; I was pressing myself so hard into the wall that I was sinking lower and lower… My fists clenched. Any moment now something would go wrong. Bo was holding Hornet's hand, taking it all in, hurt and confusion etched into his face.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Riccio shouted. He looked like he wanted to attack Victor, but Mosca and Hornet held him back.

"It means," Victor answered calmly, "that your Scipio may be a clever fellow and quite a crafty liar, but he's definitely not who you think he is."

Losing his temper, Riccio freed himself from Hornet and Mosca. Prosper managed to get a hold of him again; after Riccio had punched Victor in the nose.

"Stop it, Riccio!" Prosper shouted. He had Riccio in a headlock.

"Yeah, don't punch unless you do it right! Keep your elbow in!" I put in.

Prosper gave me a poisonous look and then looked back at Victor. "Let him finish. And you," he barked at the detective, "can stop talking in riddles! Or I'll let go of Riccio, and have Rae and Shasta attack you."

"What a threat!" Victor grumbled. "Bo, please hand me your handkerchief."

Bo quickly pulled a grubby rag out of his pocket.

"Fine, let's talk straight," Victor agreed, wiping his nose. At least it wasn't bleeding. "How did you meet Scipio?" Without looking at the others' baffled faces, he gathered a few screws and threw them into Mosca's toolbox.

Riccio had turned as red as a tomato.

"Go on, tell him," Mosca said.

"I stole something off him," Riccio muttered. "OK, I tried to steal something, and he caught me. So I threatened him with my friends and he let me go on the condition that I took him to meet my gang."

"Back then we were living in the basement of an old house," Mosca explained. "Riccio, Hornet and me. It was over in Castello. You can always find a place there. No one wants to live there anymore—it's awful. Wet and cold and we were always ill and we never had enough to eat."

"You may as well say it straight; we were in deep trouble," Riccio snapped impatiently. "'You can't live in a rat hole like this,' is what Scipio told us. And so he brought us here, to the Star-Palace. He picked the lock of the emergency exit and told us to barricade the front entrance. And since then we've been doing quite well. Until you turned up."

"Ok, I get it: Victor the spoilsport." Victor looked at Prosper. "And when Hornet picked up you and Bo," he said to him, "the Thief Lord just fed the two of you as well."

"Scip brought us coats and blankets. And he even gave me these." Bo sat down next to Victor and held up one of his kittens. Lost in thought, Victor began to tickle it behind the ears until is fell asleep, purring.

"What about you?" he asked me finally.

I shrugged, pulling myself up from where I was nearly lying on the floor. "I was running from some sick people who wanted to hurt me when I literally ran into him. We both got knocked out, and when I woke up we got to know each other…then he offered me a place to stay, food, friends and clothes and life." I clenched my fists. "He's got a big heart, our Scip, and I don't care if he's a liar. He's just lying to protect us, to keep us out of a lot of trouble." Shasta barked in agreement.

"Why did you say Scipio was a liar?" Hornet asked.

"Forget what I said." Victor patted Bo's lack hair. "Just tell me one more thing. Bo told me you were going to come into a lot of money soon. You're not planning to do something stupid, are you?"

"Bo, why can't you just keep your big mouth shut for once!" Riccio tore himself away from Prosper, but Prop quickly caught him again.

"Don't you talk to my little brother like that, understand?"

"Then you keep a better eye on him!" Riccio pushed away Prosper's hands. "Or he'll blab about everything!"

"Bo, you're not going to tell him anymore, OK?" Prosper said without letting Riccio out of his sight.

But Bo gave his brother a defiant look and whispered into Victor's ear, "We're going to break into a house with Scipio. But we're only going to steal some silly old wing."

"Bo!" Hornet shouted.

"You want to break in somewhere?" Victor was back on his feet immediately. "Are you crazy? You want to end up in the orphanage?" He placed himself in front of Prosper and looked down at him angrily. "Is that how you look after your little brother? Teaching him how to creep into strange houses?"

"That's not true!" Prosper exclaimed. "We're not going! I don't support the stealing, but sometimes we have to. But this—this is their job. We're not going."

"I am!" Bo shouted.

"You're not!" Prosper barked back.

"Stop it!" Riccio shouted, pointing at Victor with trembling fingers. "It's all his fault. Everything was all right, until he started snooping here. And now we're all fighting with one another and we need a new hideout."

"You don't need a new hideout!" Victor boomed. "Gosh darnit, I am NOT going to tell on you! But that may as well change if you're going to do that burglary. Is that clear? What's going to happen to the little one if the Carabinieri catch you all? Housebreaking is a bit different from stealing cameras and handbags."

"Scipio knows what he's doing. The Thief Lord doesn't steal handbags." Riccio's voice cracked and broke. "So you can just stop being horrible about him, you blown-up toad!"

Victor gasped. "Blown up toad? Thief Lord? I'll tell you something!" He made a threatening step toward Riccio. Mosca and Hornet moved protectively between them, but Victor just pushed them away. "You've fallen for the biggest toad who ever lived. Why don't you take a little trip to the Fondamenta Bollani number 223? That's where you'll learn the truth about the Thief Lord. Everything you'd want to know, or maybe wouldn't want to know."

I tried not to appear effected by Victor's statement, but Prosper's look was catching on—now Hornet was staring at me too.

"Fondamenta Bollani?" Riccio bit his lip. "What's this? A trick?"

"As if!' Victor turned his back and crouched down next to the dismantled radio again. "Don't forget to lock up your prisoner before you leave now, will you?" He said over his shoulder. "I'll finish repairing this thing now."