The next morning, Victor came back to Ida's house with a newspaper. Scipio's picture was on the front page. Nearly all of the city's papers ran the picture, together with an appeal by the police to everyone to help the honorable Dottor Massimo find his missing son.
Ida read the Dottor Massimo's appeal and sighed. "Do you know where Scipio is?" she asked Hornet and I from where we sat, watching her work to develop her pictures.
I nodded. "He's upstairs," I said.
"Hornet, would you bring him down?" Victor asked. Hornet nodded and walked out of the dark room.
"We should get a message to the Dottore," Victor continued. "Even if the Thief Lord doesn't want us to."
"I agree," Ida said. They looked to me, and I nodded.
"Can I write it?" I asked.
"Sure," said Victor just as Scipio and Hornet walked inside.
Victor explained to Scipio about the note, and Scip reluctantly agreed. I got up and led him out of the room, into the living room where Barbarossa was lying on the sofa, looking rather bored as he leafed through a book on Venice's treasures.
He glared at us as we walked past. We scowled back at him; he'd woken all of us at dawn, screaming and yowling after he realized that Ida had locked him into the room.
I took out a paper and a pen. "What should you say?" I asked Scipio as we sat down. He put his chin on my shoulder.
"Father," he began, and my hand began to move over the card.
"Don't worry about me, I'm fine. I don't want to come home right now, and I probably never will. I'm sorry that we've never gotten along well, and I'm sorry that I never got to say goodbye to Mother one last time. Tell her that I love her, please, and that I've got a place to stay, food to eat, clothes to wear and I even have friends. I want for nothing now. You don't know how much it means that you're looking for me. It almost seems as if you want to start over. But that isn't possible—I'm too far gone. I apologize for not being the son you wanted, but I want you to know that I love you, Dad. Take care of my cat for me, please, and it would be nice if you kept the picture on my nightstand. It means a lot.
"I hope that you and Mom work out. Love, Scipio."
I let him sign his name, carefully noting his middle name, and then I folded the paper in half, sliding it into an envelope. "Come on," I said, and we headed back to Victor and Ida. "Could you drop this into the Massimo's mailbox?" I asked Victor.
"No problem," he said, putting the envelope into his pocket. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"What about the aunt?" Barbarossa slipped off of the sofa and came to stand in front of us, his arms folded. "It's already past ten. I suggest you call her now and tell her to come here, so that I can have a look at her."
Victor was ready with a sharp retort, when Hornet put her head around the door.
"I hung the photos up to dry, Ida," she said. "Is there anything else I can do?"
"Yes, you can call Prosper and Bo down for me. I'm going to call their aunt and maybe they should be here when I do."
Hornet went outside, and soon after she did Prosper, Bo and Riccio came scrambling inside. "I hope your crazy idea works, Scip," Riccio said as he plopped down beside us. Barbarossa was enthroned in Ida's best armchair like a king forced to watch a bunch of mediocre actors perform.
"I don't know why you're making such an effort for the brat," Victor whispered to Ida. "Just look at him, how he's sitting there…"
"That's exactly why I have to do this. So I can spare the Merciful Sisters from having to look after him," Ida whispered back. "It might help Prosper and Bo, too. I think Prosper is still worried that his aunt could change her mind about Bo, so let's give her"—she smiled at Barbarossa who was watching her and Victor suspiciously—"Our little redlocks…"
"If you think so," Victor grudgingly assented. "She speaks Italian."
"Even better," Ida replied. I handed her the phone and she dialed the number of the not-five-star hotel the Hartliebs had ended up.
"Buongiorno!" Ida said with a firm voice. "This is Sister Ida, from the Order of the Merciful Sisters. Could I please speak to Signora Esther Hartlieb?"
It took a while before Esther finally came to the other end. "Ah, good morning, Signora," Ida said. "The reception told you who I am? Good. The reason I'm calling is that last night the police delivered two boys to the orphanage. One of our sisters immediately recognized the boys as your nephews, the ones on those posters all over town." Ida paused. "Oh, really? No. How unfortunate. Well. Pardon? What do you mean; you don't want the boys anymore?"
She paused again.
Bo began chewing on his nails, and only stopped when Hornet wrapped her arms around him. I patted Prosper's arm: he looked even more worried than Bo.
"But aren't you their legal guardian?" Ida continued. "I understand. Yes, the children have told me a similar story. That is sad, Signora, very sad. Of course we will look after them; that is our mission, after all. But we still need you to come in and settle all the formalities…Yes, I'm afraid that is absolutely necessary, Signora."
Ida put on a stern face, as if she were talking to Esther face to face. "Yes, absolutely, I'm afraid. When did you say you were leaving? ...So soon? Well then, I will arrange an appointment for you tomorrow afternoon. Hold on, let me just check my diary." Ida rustled with the newspaper on the sofa. "Hello, Signora?" She said into the receiver. "I can see you at three o'clock—" Again, with the three o'clock! "—NO, I'm afraid your presence is required. I will meet you in our town office, in the Casa Spavento, Campo Santa Margherita, number eleven. Ask for Sister Ida. Yes. Thank you, Signora Hartlieb. Until tomorrow."
Ida took a deep breath as she put down the phone, a grin on her face.
"Excellent!" Victor said to her. "I couldn't have done it better myself."
"And I didn't laugh," Bo said indignantly.
"She's really coming?" Prosper looked around at us in disbelief. I nodded.
"Incredible!" Barbarossa pushed away one of Bo's kittens that had tried to climb on his lap. "Some people really are incredibly gullible."
Ida shrugged. "I've laid out the bait," she said. "It's all up to you whether Signora Hartlieb goes for it."
Barbarossa ran a hand through his thick curls. "It shouldn't be a problem."
"I don't want to be here when Esther comes," Bo said quietly. Prosper got up and walked to the window.
"Me neither," he said.
"There's no need for you to be," Victor said, moving to stand next to him. "You see that cafe over there? I suggest you all go over there tomorrow and have some nice helpings of ice cream. I'll give you some money so you don't have to pay with your fake bills."
"I hope you do well tomorrow, Barbarino," Mosca said. "I cannot wait to be rid of you."
"Little redhead, Barbarino! I don't like the nicknames you're giving me," Barbarino muttered. "I just hope your aunt really is as rich as you say, or else I will tell her the lies you've spun."
Scipio rolled his eyes. "We'll just have to find a bed for you with the Merciful Sisters, then," he said.
"You can go and ask them," said Ida, "because I would like Hornet and Prosper to go pick something up for me from the sisters."
"Pick something up? What?" Barbarossa asked, now deeply suspicious. But Ida shook her head.
"It's a secret," she said. "But you'll find out soon enough, Barbarino."
I was sharing a sundae with Scipio when Esther came to Ida's house. I tuned out the others and watched Prosper and Bo's aunt follow Lucia, who was dressed in a Nun's outfit.
For the next twenty minutes or so, we sat in the café, eating in silence. Then we saw Esther and Barbarossa walk out, looking happy and content. They headed off past us, totally involved with themselves. I remembered what Esther said about wanting children, in the book, and almost smiled at how comfortable they looked together.
Later that evening Esther returned Barbarossa. We watched from a window as they walked across the square. Barbarossa was licking a huge cone of ice cream without getting a single drop on himself. Bo muttered something about wanting to know how he did that.
Esther was laden with overstuffed shopping bags, but her left hand held onto Barbarossa's and on her lips was a blissful smile.