Rendezvous in Rome

  “Good idea,” Nancy agreed. She found one last gettóne in her purse, plunked it into the pay phone, and dialed Claudia’s home number.

  When Claudia answered, Nancy greeted her, then said, “Claudia, you seemed upset in Signor Andreotti’s office. Is anything wrong?”

  There was a short silence. “I guess I was hoping this thing would be over.” Claudia’s voice finally came over the line. “I feel responsible for dragging you into this. I took you to Massimo’s stand and the store, and all of a sudden people are losing their jewelry!”

  “But most of the jewelry was probably stolen before we even got to Rome,” Nancy said. “Listen, Signor Andreotti was a big help. He even invited us all to some gala tomorrow night for a young artist. He said he thought it would be fun, and he’s putting Sandro, Massimo, Karine, and you on the list, too. Won’t that be great?”

  Nancy didn’t give away the real reason they were all being invited. She couldn’t if there was any chance that Claudia was somehow involved in the thefts.

  “Great,” Claudia said, but her tone was flat.

  Taking a deep breath, Nancy decided to make one last effort. “Claudia, you sound terrible. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

  “It is just this silly fight with Sandro,” Claudia said, her voice breaking slightly. “It is nothing to worry about. By the way, Massimo and Sandro and I want to take you and Bess sightseeing tomorrow. There is a special church we think you will enjoy.”

  The girls arranged to meet at the Spanish Steps the next morning. After hanging up, Nancy and Bess dropped off their purchases in their room, then changed into dresses for dinner. They decided to splurge on one of the better restaurants listed in their guidebook.

  • • •

  “Boy, I think that was the best veal I ever tasted,” Bess said afterward as they wandered through the streets near the Pantheon, where the restaurant was located.

  The streets and piazzas were packed with young people hanging out. As they walked Nancy pulled out her guidebook and flipped to the “Eating Out” section.

  “Are you up for dessert?” she asked Bess. “There’s an ice-cream place near here that’s supposed to be great. It’s called Giolitti.”

  Bess’s blue eyes lit up. “Say no more—let’s go!”

  It was obvious that Giolitti was very popular. When the girls arrived, it was packed with locals and tourists alike. Dozens of colorful flavors were set out in stainless steel drums. Men in waiters’ jackets pushed one another out of the way, scooping the gelato neatly with spatulas.

  Bess read the flavors. “Gianduia, crèma, pistàcchio, cioccolato,” she said, throwing her hands in the air. “I can’t figure this out! I’m just going to pick a color.” A cone piled high with ice cream and fresh whipped cream passed near her nose. “And I’m getting the cream.”

  The gelato was the most delicious ice cream Nancy had ever tasted. Fully satisfied, the girls headed back to their pensione.

  “I’m beat,” Nancy said as she unlocked the door to their room and pushed it open.

  As she stepped into their room she was startled by the sight of a dark shape on her bed. “Don’t come in, Bess,” she ordered, freezing in place. When the shape didn’t move, she reached out slowly and turned on the light.

  Bess gave a little screech.

  In the middle of Nancy’s bed sat a gruesome stone gargoyle’s head. Next to it was a slip of paper with words scrawled on it in red paint.

  Nancy’s stomach lurched as she read the jagged writing: “Rome is a crumbling city. Get away before it crumbles on you!”

  Chapter

  Nine

  OH, NAN, THE THIEF is really after us,” Bess whispered, her face white.

  “Well, he’s going to be disappointed, then,” Nancy said grimly. “I don’t scare easily.”

  Gingerly she reached out and touched the head. It rocked slightly on the mattress but was surprisingly light. Nancy lifted it easily and carried it closer to the light. The head seemed to be made of some sort of dense foam.

  “More threats,” Bess said gloomily. “That at least means we’re getting closer, right? I guess I should be happy.”

  “But who is the thief we spooked?” Nancy wondered. “Both Fabio Andreotti and Paola Rinzini know we’re on the trail now. And Massimo, Sandro, and Claudia all know we’ve been investigating.”

  Coming over to Nancy, Bess made a face at the gargoyle. “Where does a person find a head like that in Rome?” she asked.

  “It could be a stage prop of some kind, or a model,” Nancy said. She set the head down on the dresser. “Or maybe it could have come from an art school.”

  The two girls looked at each other. “Massimo and Karine both go to art school,” Bess put in.

  “Well, let’s see if we can track down the culprit this time,” Nancy said. The two girls went down the hall and found Signora Verona sitting behind the desk. When Nancy finished telling her what had happened, the pensione manager was beside herself.

  “Someone in my family has been watching that door all day,” she told the girls. “We even made a new rule: guests may not have visitors in the rooms.” She gestured to a hand-drawn sign above the front desk. “No one has been in or out of here unless they have a room.”

  “The head is pretty large,” Nancy observed. “It would be hard to smuggle in, except in a big bag. Did anyone check into the hotel today?”

  The woman looked through her records. “A German family checked into room seven this morning,” she told them. “And a young man from Milan arrived this afternoon.”

  Nancy jumped on the information. “Was he Italian? Can you remember what he looked like?”

  Signora Verona narrowed her eyes in concentration. “He was attractive. I think I remember black hair, kind of wavy, but he was wearing a hat. I thought that was strange for the summer. He had one duffel bag.”

  Massimo had wavy black hair! Nancy thought with excitement. “Which room is he in?” Nancy asked. “I’d like to ask him about this.”

  “Room three, at the end of the hall. He gave the name Francesco Ponti.”

  While the girls followed Signora Verona down the hall Nancy translated for Bess everything the pensione manager had told her. “Massimo again,” Bess said under her breath. “It’s looking more and more like he’s our thief.”

  Nancy and Bess waited silently while Signora Verona knocked on the door to room three. There was no answer.

  “Could you open the door with a passkey?” Nancy asked. “Please? This is important.”

  The woman hesitated only for a moment. She went to the front desk and came back with the key. Nancy held her breath as the door opened.

  The room was untouched. There were no belongings in sight. A skeleton key on a wooden tag lay on the neatly made bed. “Francesco Ponti” was gone!

  • • •

  The next morning Nancy and Bess got up very early. They took the threatening note and the key down to the police station and left them for Officer Franchi, telling the officer on duty what had happened. Then they hurried back to the Spanish Steps to meet the others.

  Claudia and Sandro were already sitting on a lower step when Nancy and Bess arrived, just before nine. They weren’t speaking, and Claudia still looked upset.

  Bess had noticed it, too. She kept up a stream of chatter just to ease the tension a little. Suddenly Bess broke off, and her mouth fell open. Following Bess’s gaze, Nancy saw that Massimo was approaching the group—with Karine!

  “Hi, everyone,” Karine said in her musical voice. “When Massimo told me last night where you were going, I made him promise to bring me.” She flashed a brilliant smile. “I hope no one minds.”

  Nancy noticed that Karine emphasized the words “last night” as if she wanted everyone to know that she and Massimo had been out together.

  “We’re delighted to have you,” Bess said, noticing Massimo’s awkward posture.

  “And I hope you’re coming to that art opening tonight, too,” N
ancy put in. “Were you invited?”

  Karine looked down at her nails as she answered. “I received a note from Signor Andreotti that some young people were going and I should come along,” she said. “But I was going with my father, anyway. He was invited weeks ago.”

  Massimo and Sandro spoke up; both were obviously happy about being invited to the opening. Nancy got the impression that they didn’t usually attend this sort of fancy affair.

  With an uneasy look at Karine, Massimo turned to Bess and took her by the arm. “Now let me tell you what we are going to see today,” he told her.

  As Nancy watched them walk ahead, she hoped Bess would ask him where he had been yesterday afternoon at around the time Signora De Luca’s Etruscan pin was stolen. Claudia didn’t seem to be interested in being with Sandro, so Nancy paired up with her. Sandro and Karine lagged behind.

  Keeping her voice low, Nancy told Claudia about the gargoyle head, leaving out the part about the mysterious Francesco Ponti.

  “But that is terrible!” Claudia exclaimed. “Were you hurt? Was anything stolen?”

  “I still have the necklace,” Nancy said, patting her purse. “It may have been a prank.”

  As the group wandered down via Sistina, Claudia walked silently next to Nancy, darting glances at Sandro every few steps. Finally Nancy touched her arm. “Why don’t you go talk to him?”

  Claudia gave a wan smile. “Maybe I should.” Nancy fell into step with Karine so that Claudia and Sandro could be alone. Trying to strike up a conversation, Nancy asked Karine to tell her about the sights they passed as they walked.

  “This is the Triton Fountain,” Karine said as the group stopped in the Piazza Barberini. Perched atop an open shell supported by four dolphins, a stone figure on his knees spouted water through a large seashell. The water dribbled a lazy path through the mossy rivulets on his chest.

  “Do you draw statues like this one?” Nancy asked Karine as they walked on.

  “Sometimes, but the gray chalk doesn’t always come out so well on the pavement. I like color.”

  “I’d like to see your drawings. Maybe sometime you’d draw that famous Botticelli painting of Venus standing in the shell. What’s it called?”

  Karine made a knowing nod. “The Birth of Venus,” she replied. “But I never take requests. I just draw whatever moves me at the moment.

  “Actually,” Karine continued after Nancy didn’t respond, “I draw for my father when he asks me to.”

  “It’s nice that he visits you in the piazza to see your work,” Nancy commented. “Not all parents are so involved in their kids’ careers.”

  “He isn’t,” Karine said. “He’s too busy for that. My father owns a big trading company. But sometimes he calls me in the morning to see what I’m up to. He likes to visualize what I’m doing during the day.”

  Nancy looked at Karine, puzzled. “Your father calls you on the telephone in the morning?” she asked.

  “My parents are divorced,” Karine explained. “I live with my mother. My father’s got his own import-export company in Turkey and a small apartment here in Rome. He travels back and forth a lot, so I see him only when he’s here.”

  “I’m sorry,” Nancy said, not knowing what else to say.

  Karine shrugged and changed the subject. “Did Bess find her necklace—the one Massimo gave her?”

  “We haven’t worked that out yet,” Nancy said vaguely, wondering why Karine was so interested.

  “I’d love to see it when you do. Massimo’s going to give me a necklace, too,” Karine added smugly. “With green stones to match my eyes.”

  Nancy tried not to laugh. “A necklace to match your eyes” seemed to be a standard pickup line for Massimo.

  By now the group found itself on the corner of via Veneto. They stopped in front of a small stone church.

  “Inside are the catacombs of the Capuchin monks,” Massimo said. “They are not Rome’s most famous tourist attraction, but I think they are the most unusual.”

  He led the group up a flight of stairs along the right of the church to the first landing above-ground. Two short monks dressed in brown and white robes were selling postcards in a small reception area.

  A long hallway beyond the monks led to a bizarre burial ground. It was arranged in five small chapels, connected by a long passage. The walls were entirely covered with bones!

  “Ugh!” Bess said. “This is really creepy.”

  “This is a holy burial ground for four thousand monks,” Massimo explained.

  To Nancy it was a grisly sight. Every wall was decorated with the bones of the monks. She gave a little shiver as she looked around. Leg bones were fastened in a pattern on the ceiling. Skulls alternated with arm bones down the walls. Even the lamp holders were made of bones. In the nearest chapel Nancy could see three full skeletons dressed in monks’ robes, holding crosses.

  “It was an honor to be buried here,” Massimo said in a low voice. “The living monks decorated each chapel with the bones of their brothers. They think the custom was introduced by the Etruscans.”

  Nancy looked sharply at Massimo. He was smiling at Bess, forgetting Nancy for the moment.

  Despite the summer heat, the rooms were cool. Sandro wandered down the hall, examining each part of the wall in horrified fascination. Other members of the group drifted after him. They seemed to be the only visitors.

  Nancy wandered into an empty chapel in the middle of the hall and stared. A monk’s skeleton was propped up in the middle of a design made of human foot bones. Stepping closer, Nancy tried to glimpse the skull under the brown monk’s hood.

  There were quiet footsteps behind Nancy as someone entered the chapel. “Isn’t it fascinating?” she asked, still gazing at the skeleton.

  No one answered. Suddenly Nancy tensed. Before she could turn, she felt an arm cover her eyes and a hand cover her mouth.

  Nancy struggled, trying to get free. In the next instant she felt herself being pulled off balance, then pushed with great force. As she fell forward she felt a tug where her bag hung from her shoulder.

  She didn’t have time to fight or even see who her attacker was, however. She was hurtling right into the wall of bones. In a split second she was going to crash into the skeleton of the monk!

  Chapter

  Ten

  NANCY PITCHED HEADLONG into the skeleton, bringing it down around her as she fell. Brown bones scattered everywhere, producing a light cloud of dust.

  In panic Nancy struggled to get away from the bones, yelling for help. She was dimly aware of the sound of a door slamming behind her.

  Dizzy from her fall, Nancy scrambled toward the doorway, taking a mental inventory of her body as she went. She had smashed her elbow against the wall, but otherwise she felt all right. A heavy wooden door barred the exit from the chapel, though. The thief had slammed the door shut behind him, and now she found that it was stuck. She began shouting and pounding on the door.

  “Nancy, are you in there?” Claudia shouted through the door a few minutes later.

  “Yes, I’m here,” she called back.

  She was relieved when the door opened a moment later and the group piled into the room. Claudia was holding a piece of splintered wood.

  “This was jammed against the door,” she said, her horrified gaze sweeping the tumble of bones around her. “What happened?”

  Nancy described the attack as best she could. Everyone exclaimed over her, but no one had seen anything. From what they told her, they had each been off looking at a different part of the catacombs. None of them had an alibi.

  “I have never heard of a tourist being mugged in a church before,” Claudia said indignantly. “I am ashamed for our whole city.”

  “I think it was a deliberate attempt to get the necklace,” Nancy said. “Unfortunately, it worked.”

  Bess gasped. “Your shoulder bag is gone!” she exclaimed, but Nancy’s eyes darted to the others, trying to gauge their reactions. Claudia, Massimo, and Sandro
all looked horrified. Karine was the only one who didn’t seem upset by the news.

  “This is too dangerous,” Sandro said. “I know you’re trying to help my mother, but she wouldn’t want you to get hurt. I think you should leave this to the police.”

  Nancy started toward the door. “I’ll definitely report this attack,” she agreed. “But I’m not backing off the case.”

  She went to the monks at the entrance, who conducted her to a back office to use the phone. Officer Franchi was out, so she told the officer on duty what had happened and described her bag and its contents. Then she sat in the office collecting her thoughts.

  Now that the thief had made such an obvious and dangerous move, Nancy felt as if she must be closing in. She was sure that the person who had just attacked her was a man, which meant that he was either Massimo or Sandro. And Massimo fit the description of the mysterious Francesco Ponti better than Sandro. The question now was, what would the thief do with her bag and the necklace?

  When Nancy came out of the office, the others were searching for her shoulder bag. She eyed the various bags her friends were carrying. Should she search them?

  She decided against it. Doing so would certainly offend them and might scare off the thief before the gala that evening. But she’d be on the lookout for a way to search them during the day.

  “We didn’t find your purse anywhere,” Claudia told Nancy apologetically as the group prepared to leave the catacombs.

  Nancy let out a sigh. “I’m more upset about the necklace than about any of my stuff,” she said. “Still, it’s not going to be fun getting a new passport and credit cards.”

  Coming over to Nancy, Massimo put an arm around her shoulders. “Well, I know something that would be fun,” he told her. “I was thinking we could go to the soccer match between Rome and Turin.”

  “Soccer!” Bess crowed. “I love soccer!”