The two cousins and Nancy waited on a bench near the entrance while Claudia approached the main desk and spoke with the officer there.
A few minutes later Claudia returned with an attractive young officer whose badge read Gianni Franchi. Officer Franchi ushered them down a side hall and into an office where an older police officer was waiting.
Claudia spoke Italian. Nancy had almost no trouble understanding as Claudia gave the two men a brief account of their day, saying that they had bought the necklace from a street vendor. When the clasp broke, they took it to a jeweler, who thought the necklace might be real. Claudia finished by saying that she wondered if there were any reports of a robbery, because she wanted to make sure the necklace wasn’t connected to any kind of crime.
The older officer spoke briefly to Claudia, then got up and left the office. “No thefts have been reported here,” Claudia explained to Nancy, Bess, and George. “He’s going to see if there are any reports from the carabinieri—that’s the national police.”
At Officer Franchi’s request Bess brought out the necklace. He snapped a few pictures with an instant camera. He, too, spoke in Italian, but again, Nancy was able to understand what he said.
“We can make some discreet inquiries,” the officer told Claudia. “And we’ll check with some of the museums. Will you leave the necklace here?”
Nancy spoke up quickly, trying out her Italian. She told Officer Franchi that she would rather keep the necklace, if it wasn’t stolen. “After all, we did buy it,” she finished.
Officer Franchi’s heavy eyebrows drew together. He gave her a calculating stare, then spoke again to Claudia. Obviously he didn’t like Nancy’s idea, even after Claudia assured him that Nancy was a detective. But Nancy didn’t think he had the right to take the necklace from them, either.
Officer Franchi broke off as his partner returned. Shrugging his shoulders, the older officer reported that there were no thefts that the carabinieri knew of.
Before the girls left, the police officers took Claudia’s name and address, as well as passport numbers from Nancy, Bess, and George. As an afterthought, Nancy wrote down the name and phone number of the chief of police back in River Heights, the girls’ hometown. “Perhaps you could use some kind of reference,” she told Officer Franchi. She knew how much Chief McGinnis respected her. Perhaps talking to him would help Officer Franchi to trust her more.
“What was that all about?” George asked Nancy and Claudia as the girls left the building. “I didn’t understand much, but it didn’t exactly look like you made a best friend in there.”
Nancy filled in the details of the meeting for Bess and George. Claudia let out a sigh when Nancy was done. “Officer Franchi doesn’t trust us, that’s for sure,” she added.
“So we’re back to square one. We have no idea where this necklace came from,” Bess said. “How are we going to keep it safe?”
As the girls reached the bottom of the steps outside the police station, Claudia bent down to unlock the Vespa she and Bess had been riding. “Bring it to Sandro’s tonight,” she suggested. “His mother has a large collection of jewelry that she keeps in a safe. I am sure she would hold it for you if you asked her.”
“Great,” said Bess, looking relieved. “I’ll definitely talk to her.”
• • •
Sandro and his mother lived in a magnificent old building called the Theater of Marcellus. When Claudia had given the girls directions, she told them it had been built in ancient times by two emperors, Julius Caesar and Caesar Augustus.
“It looks like a small version of the Colosseum,” Nancy called out to Bess and George as they drove up on their Vespas. She pointed out the two rows of crumbling archways in the front of the building. The girls rode up the ramp to the back of the building, where they parked. Then they walked into the lobby.
“It’s like a ruin on the outside, but look at the inside!” Bess said in awe.
The lobby was impressive, Nancy had to agree. The floors were made of beautiful inlaid marble in intricate geometric patterns. The high ceilings were painted with flying cherubs.
“Maybe we should have dressed up more for dinner,” George said, smoothing the skirt of her red cotton sundress.
Nancy looked down at her jeans skirt and flowered blouse, then at Bess’s white pantsuit. “I’m sure Claudia would have told us if we should.”
A pleasant doorman announced their arrival over the intercom, and the girls stepped into the wrought-iron cage elevator. Claudia had said the Fiorellos lived on the top floor, so Nancy pressed the button. With a rattle they eased upward.
The elevator opened directly into a large, airy apartment. The living room was visible just beyond the foyer, and Nancy saw Claudia sitting on an elegant leather couch. She was talking to a half-dozen other young people who were scattered around the room.
Seeing the girls, Claudia hurried over to greet them. Sandro was right behind her.
“Buòna séra,” he said, kissing each girl on both cheeks. “I’m so happy you could come meet our friends.”
Within seconds Nancy, Bess, and George were laughing and gesturing with the others as they all tried to make themselves understood.
“Originally we were just having dinner,” Sandro told Nancy, his arm resting on Claudia’s shoulder. “Then we found out Domenico and his friends are leaving tomorrow to climb Mount Olympus or something, so we invited everyone over so we could say farewell. Then when you came, we invited you so we could say welcome!”
George’s brown eyes gleamed with interest. She turned to an Italian girl with short, spiky hair, whom Sandro had introduced as Daniela. “You guys are climbing Mount Olympus?” George asked.
“Actually, they’re going to Greece to visit the site of the ancient Olympics,” Claudia told her.
“What a great thing to do!” George exclaimed. “You know, our next stop is Greece. Maybe we’ll do that, too.”
Bess looked horrified. “Over my dead body,” she told her cousin firmly. “We did enough mountain climbing when we were in the Alps.”
Despite Bess’s veto, Nancy could tell that George was very excited about the idea. As Daniela and a blond-haired guy named Domenico told George all about their planned trip, she listened eagerly.
Signora Fiorello didn’t appear in the living room until dinner was almost ready. Sandro introduced the girls to his mother as all of the teenagers got up to help put the food on the table. Nancy immediately liked the robust, gray-haired woman. She was the picture of an adoring mother.
All through the pasta, the veal entrée, and the salad, Signora Fiorello kept up a steady stream of conversation about Sandro. George was at the other end of the table, still talking to Domenico and Daniela, so Nancy and Bess got the full force of Signora Fiorello’s doting.
“Oh, yes, he is really quite an electronic genius,” she said, speaking to Nancy and Bess in very good English. “The shop where he works as a computer consultant would be lost without him.” She smiled proudly at Sandro, who was seated next to her. “Of course, after a few years there he could go out on his own, maybe even open his own company. But first he must get more experience.”
Sandro looked completely embarrassed by his mother’s rambling. “I have plenty of experience,” he objected. “I could be a big success now.”
Claudia bent close to Nancy. “I have heard this same argument a million times,” she said. “Sandro is very frustrated not to be working for himself.”
Nancy nodded her understanding, feeling thankful that her own father was so supportive of everything she did.
“You young people are so eager to grow up,” Signora Fiorello said. She took Sandro’s hand and patted it affectionately, not appearing to notice his grimace. “Are you in school?” she asked Nancy.
“Not right now,” Nancy replied.
“So what is it you do, if I may ask?”
“Well, occasionally I help my father or his friends do some investigating. He’s a lawyer,” Nancy sa
id, trying to avoid the topic. What would Signora Fiorello think of some of the scrapes she had gotten herself into during her cases!
“See?” Signora Fiorello said triumphantly to Sandro. “She helps her father and his friends. She is not trying to start a business so young.”
Sandro rolled his eyes, not bothering to hide his frustration. For the rest of the meal he ignored his mother, devoting his attention to his food.
When dinner was finished the girls lingered in the living room after Domenico and his friends left. Claudia told Sandro’s mother about their day and about Bess’s necklace. When she got to the part about Signor Andreotti’s belief that the necklace was authentic, Sandro whistled.
“You didn’t tell me that,” he said. “He must be mistaken. Massimo wouldn’t have a real necklace.”
“I hope you have it in a safe place, my dear,” Signora Fiorello told Bess. “Fabio Andreotti is a good friend and an excellent art dealer. If he says it is real, it is real.”
Bess looked at Claudia, who nodded slightly. “Actually, I have the necklace in my knapsack,” Bess said. She drew it out and held it up to the light. “I’m not really sure what to do with it. It’s so valuable that I feel nervous about carrying it around.”
“I have a safe,” Sandro’s mother offered immediately, leaning forward to look at the necklace. “You could leave it with me.”
“That’s a great idea,” Sandro agreed. “Then we’d be sure it’s secure.”
George smiled and said, “Actually, Claudia mentioned that you have a safe. Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”
“Of course not. Come with me,” Signora Fiorello said immediately. “I will show you my own Etruscan necklace, and then we will put yours safely away.”
“Mamma,” Sandro said, “they don’t want to see your jewelry.”
“Oh, I’d love to,” Bess protested.
Signora Fiorello beamed at Bess and took her arm. She led the way down the hall to a large, feminine bedroom and went over to the wall next to her desk. A large painting hung there. With Sandro’s help she removed it and set it on the floor. Behind the painting was a wall safe.
Nancy and her friends kept a tactful distance while Signora Fiorello spun the combination. All the while she chatted about her own jewelry collection. Sandro rolled his eyes, his face red. His mother’s banter was obviously embarrassing him.
“Here we go,” Signora Fiorello said as the safe door swung open. She moved a few things around, frowning as she looked into the safe.
“Where did I put them?” she said, a note of panic creeping into her voice. “The box was right on top.”
She started taking boxes out and putting them on her desk. Finally everything was on the desk, and the safe stood empty. After checking each box Signora Fiorello looked disbelievingly at the empty safe.
“It’s gone,” she said in a strangled voice. “My Etruscan necklace is gone!”
Chapter
Four
CALL THE POLICE,” Sandro said to Claudia, his face pale. Hurrying over to his mother, he led her to the bed, and she lay down. Signora Fiorello wore a look of utter shock.
As Claudia picked up the telephone on the desk, Nancy went over to the safe. Carefully using one fingernail, she swung the door toward her by its edge, then examined the area by the lock.
“No sign of a forced entry,” she reported to Bess and George, who were hovering behind her. “At least none that I can see. Maybe the police can come up with a set of fingerprints.”
“They are on their way,” Claudia said as she replaced the telephone receiver in its cradle.
While they waited for the police Nancy, George, and Bess stood at the far end of the room and talked quietly about the upsetting event. Nancy gestured to the pile of boxes on the desk. “There’s still a lot of jewelry here,” she said to her friends in a low tone. “A professional thief wouldn’t leave all this behind. I wonder if she could have misplaced the necklace.” At the moment, however, she didn’t think she should question Signora Fiorello. She was too upset.
Sandro, who had left the room, returned holding a damp towel. As he was placing the towel on his mother’s forehead the doorbell buzzed. “Claudia, can you get that?” Sandro asked.
Claudia left the bedroom, returning a moment later with two policemen. Nancy hung back and watched as the officers checked the safe and dusted for prints. They asked Sandro for a list of the missing items.
“I’m not sure what was in the safe,” Sandro said. He tightened his arm around his mother. “Mamma, could you take another look?”
After she spent some time going through her belongings, Signora Fiorello reported that only the necklace was gone. She rummaged in her desk drawer and eventually pulled out a photograph. “I have this for the insurance company,” she said, holding up a picture of a heavy gold choker with ornate gold flowers and scarabs hanging from it.
The police took the photograph for evidence, promising to return it. After asking a few more questions they left.
Signora Fiorello seemed to have recovered herself, Nancy saw. “I have some delicious peach iced tea in the kitchen,” she told the teenagers. “I think we could all use something refreshing.” Turning to Bess, she added, “Obviously your necklace will not be safe with me. You had better keep it yourself.”
When the group was settled at a round table in the kitchen, Signora Fiorello turned to Nancy. “Claudia says you are a detective,” she said. “Is that what you do for your father and his friends?”
When Nancy nodded, she continued. “Would you do it for me? Find out who took my necklace?”
“I can try,” Nancy said. The truth was, she was dying to investigate and had already been thinking over the crime. “I think maybe Bess’s necklace and yours are connected somehow.”
A panicked look came over Signora Fiorello. “A serial crime? Oh, no! I must call Renata and warn her. And Alessa.” She turned to Sandro and asked, “She has Etruscan jewelry, right?”
“Mamma!” Sandro objected. “How would I know?”
Signora Fiorello picked up the telephone. When she finally put it down ten minutes later, she had astounding news. She had asked her friends to check their own jewelry, and both of them were also missing their Etruscan pieces!
“The police are going to have a busy night,” Nancy said grimly. “Did they say anything else?” she asked Sandro’s mother.
Only Etruscan jewelry had been stolen, Nancy discovered, even though Signora Fiorello’s friends had other valuables, too. None of the missing necklaces matched the one Bess had. Sandro’s mother then called two other acquaintances who had Etruscan jewelry and learned they were on vacation. Bess’s necklace might have been stolen from one of them.
After promising to look into the thefts the next day Nancy, Bess, and George said a weary good night. As they left the Theater of Marcellus, George said, “Well, Nan, it looks like we’re getting more than we bargained for on this trip!”
• • •
Nancy groaned, tugging on the outside door of the building where Pensione Antonio was located. “I forgot that they said they lock this place up at night,” she said. “Does anyone have a key?”
George pulled a ring of keys from her bag and unlocked the door. The girls entered the plain stone lobby of the building and walked up the curving staircase to the second floor. The door to the pensione was at the top of the stairs. Going quietly inside, they made their way down the hall to their room.
“Are you guys really tired?” George asked, sitting on the edge of one of the three beds.
Nancy could tell something was on her friend’s mind. George had remained quiet and thoughtful for most of the evening, even before Sandro’s mother had discovered her necklace was gone. Apparently Bess had noticed it, too.
“Do you want to talk?” Bess asked, dropping into the room’s only chair.
Nancy sat on the bed next to George and hugged her. “It’s about Greece, isn’t it?” she guessed. “You’re dying to go with
Sandro’s friends on that trip, right?”
George nodded. “It is our next stop, and Daniela said I could room with her,” she said. “I could meet you guys in Athens. Unless you don’t want to go there anymore,” she added quickly.
“I thought Domenico and the group were leaving tomorrow morning,” Bess said. “How are you going to get hold of them?”
George smiled sheepishly. “Domenico said if I decided to come, I could meet them at the train station in the morning. They’re taking a train to the ferry.”
“Well, before I give you my permission, just tell me this,” Bess said, pretending to be stern. “Is it really the trip to Greece you’re dying for, or is it Domenico?”
George rolled her eyes. “Bess, just because you have a guy in every country doesn’t mean I want that,” she said with a teasing grin. “Besides,” she added, pulling a packet of letters from the front pocket of her shoulder bag, “I miss Kevin too much to think about dating other guys.”
Kevin Davis, George’s boyfriend, was a sports announcer back in the States. Nancy knew how serious George was about their relationship. She definitely wasn’t the type to go chasing another guy all over Europe.
Nancy sighed as she thought of the three letters she had received from her own boyfriend, Ned Nickerson. He really missed her, but so far she’d written him only one postcard, from the Italian Riviera. She kept telling herself she’d write a long letter—tomorrow—but somehow the time was never right. She hadn’t admitted it even to Bess and George, but the truth was, she thought more about Mick Devlin these days than about the boy who had been her one and only love for a long, long time.
Pushing aside her disturbing thoughts, Nancy leaned over and hugged George. “Go ahead to Greece,” she told her. “I’m sure seeing Mount Olympus will be great. And we’ll fill you in on everything that happens here.”
“Sure,” Bess agreed. “We were planning to be in Athens next Saturday anyway. We can just meet at that hotel where we made reservations. In case there’s any change of plans, though, why don’t you call here and leave a message with the number of where you’ll be staying with Daniela?”
Rendezvous in Rome Page 3
