"Hey, Riccio. It'll be OK!" Hornet said. She sat down next to him and put her arm around him. "At least we'll stay together, right?" But Riccio just pushed her away.
Prosper hadn't said anything all this time. But now he cleared his throat. "You won't have to throw the snoop into the canal just to stay here," he said haltingly. "If Bo and I leave, he won't have any reason to come here again. This is all our fault and so we're going to go. We'll have to anyway, now that our aunt knows we're in Venice."
Bo looked at his brother, his mouth open wide. Hornet turned toward him and stared at him in disbelief. "Nonsense!" she shouted. "Where are you going to go? We all belong together. Your problems are our problems."
"Exactly!" Mosca nodded. "Your problems are our problems. Right, Riccio?" He shoved his elbow into his friend's side, but Riccio said nothing.
"You're staying here and the snoop stays in the men's bathroom," Hornet continued. "And we'll steal the wooden wing, take it to the Conte, and with his five million we'll make ourselves a cozy life on one of the islands. Anyone can get used to riding on boats. I hope!" she added quickly. Hornet got just as seasick as Riccio.
"Then we'll have to feed the tortoise-husband," Bo said. "So he doesn't die."
"The tortoise-husband?" Mosca nearly choked on his cold coffee.
"He lives under Victor's desk," Prosper mumbled. He was playing absentmindedly with Bo's plastic fans. "His wife is in a box in the bathroom with Victor. You have to be careful not to step on her when you go in there."
Mosca's eyes nearly popped out of his head.
"There, you see?" Riccio shouted. "Who ever heard of kidnappers looking after the pets of their prisoners? Have you ever seen a movie where the gangster goes to feed his victim's tortoise or cat?"
"We're not gangsters!" Hornet cut in. "And that's why we won't let innocent tortoises starve. Go on, Mosca, take Victor his coffee."
22 The Casa Spavento
Prosper joined Riccio and Hornet when they left to meet Scipio at the Campo Santa Margherita.
He hadn't left the hideout for more than two days because of Victor and now he longed for some fresh air. Mosca eagerly agreed to stay behind with their prisoner. He still felt guilty because he had slept through his watch. Bo wanted to look after the lonely tortoise, probably because he really didn't want to walk all the way to the Campo Santa Margherita either.
It really was quite a long way. The square was in Dorsoduro, the southernmost quarter of Venice, on the other side of the Grand Canal. The houses there might not have been as magnificent or graceful as on some of the other squares in the city, but many had been standing for more than five hundred years. It had some small shops, cafes, restaurants, a fish market every morning, and in the center was the newspaper stand where Riccio had gained all his information about Ida Spavento. The Campanile Santa Margherita was guarded by a dragon. Riccio claimed that once, a long time ago, bear and bull-baiting fights used to take place right there at its feet, just like on the Campo San Polo toward the north of the city.
The square, which was usually very busy, was almost deserted when the three children entered it. It was a cold and rainy day. The chairs in front of the cafes were empty and a couple of women pushed their baby carriages past the wet tables. A few old men sat on the benches underneath the bare trees, looking dourly toward the blank gray sky overhead.
The house, the target for their nighttime visit, had seen better days. It certainly didn't look like the kind of place that would contain a treasure that was worth five million lire. The garden could only be reached through a dark, covered alley, which at first glance looked like little more than a black hole between the Casa Spavento and the neighboring house.
Riccio had already explored the alley with Mosca. They had even climbed the wall that surrounded the garden. From there they had looked down on winter-bare flower beds and gravel paths.