The Thief Lord

"Five. Heavens above! You're really very young for a bunch of thieves." Ida Spavento leaned against the door frame and looked at them one by one. "What am I going to do with you now? You break into my house. You try to rob me...What do you know about the wing?"



"So you have it?" Riccio looked at her with big eyes.



"And what did you want to do with it?"



"Someone asked us to steal it," Mosca muttered.



Ida Spavento looked at him in astonishment. "Asked you? Who?"



"We're not going to tell you!" said a voice behind her.



Ida Spavento spun around. Before she knew what was happening, Scipio had grabbed her rifle and was pointing the barrel at her.



"Scipio, what are you doing?" Hornet called out, scared. "Give that gun back!"



"I have the wing!" Scipio said, still holding the rifle. "It was up in the bedroom. Now let's get out of here."



"Scipio? Who's that now?" Ida Spavento trod her cigarette out on the floor and crossed her arms. "My house seems to be swarming with uninvited guests tonight. That's an interesting mask you're wearing, my dear. I have a very similar one, but I don't often wear it for break-ins. And now put that gun down."



Scipio took a step backward.



"There are a lot of mysterious stories associated with this wing. Did your client tell you about them?"



Scipio ignored her. "If you're not going to come with me," he called to the others, "then I'll go alone. And I won't share the money with you."



The rifle shook in his hands.



"Are you coming now or not?" he called once more.



At that moment Ida Spavento stepped forward, grabbed the barrel, and yanked the rifle out of Scipio's hands. "That's enough!" she said. "That thing doesn't work anyway. And now give me back my wing."



Scipio had wrapped the wing in a blanket as soon as he'd heard voices.



"We would have gotten away with it!" he complained as he placed it on the floor in front of the signora. "If those morons hadn't just stood around like statues."



"Just shut up," Mosca shouted. "You've completely lost it! Waving a gun around like that!"



"I was never going to shoot!" Scipio shouted back. "I just wanted us to get the money. I would have given all of it to you. You said yourself how much you need it."



"The money? Of course!" Ida Spavento knelt down and unfolded the blanket. "How much did your client offer you for my wing?"



"A lot," Hornet answered.



She stepped forward hesitantly and stood beside Ida. The wing's white paint was faded and cracked, just like the wing in the Conte's photograph. This one, however, still showed sprinklings of gold.



"Tell me his name." Ida Spavento replaced the cover and got up with the wing in her arms, its tip still poking out of the wrapping. "You tell me his name and I'll tell you why he wants to pay so much money for a piece of wood."



"We don't know his name," Riccio answered.



"He calls himself the Conte." The words slipped out of Mosca's mouth; he didn't know why. Scipio shot him a dark look. "What are you staring at, Thief Lord?" Mosca shouted at him. "Why shouldn't we tell her?"



"Thief Lord?" Ida Spavento raised her eyebrows. She gave Scipio a glance full of mockery and gentle amusement. "Anyway, I need some coffee. I suppose you kids can't wait to get out of my house, right?"



She looked at the children enquiringly.



Nobody answered. Only Hornet shook her head.



"Fine! Then you can keep me company," Ida Spavento said. "If you want, I'll tell you a story. A story about a lost wing and a mysterious merry-go-round. You may stay too," she said as she walked past Scipio, "but maybe the Thief Lord has more important appointments to keep?"



27 An Old Story



Scipio decided to come with them to Ida Spavento's kitchen, but he kept his distance. He lounged against the doorpost as the others gathered around the big table. The wing lay in front of them on the colorful tablecloth.



"It looks beautiful," Hornet said as she carefully stroked the wood. "It's the wing of an angel, isn't it?"



"Angel? Oh no." Ida Spavento took the espresso pot from the stove, the coffee still gurgling as she put it on the table. "This is a lion's wing."



"A lion?" Riccio looked at her in disbelief.



Ida Spavento nodded. "Indeed." She put her hand in her coat pocket and pulled out her cigarettes. Then she fetched sugar and a cup for herself. She got some juice and some glasses for the children. There was one for Scipio too, but he stayed by the door. At least he had taken off his mask.



"So, what about the story?" Mosca asked as he poured himself some juice.



"I'm coming to that!" Ida Spavento threw her coat over the back of her chair. She took a sip of coffee and then reached for a cigarette.



"Can I try one?" Riccio asked.



Ida looked surprised. "Of course not. It's an unhealthy habit."



"Why do you smoke, then?"



She sighed. "I'm trying to quit. But let's get to the story." She leaned back. "Have you ever heard the story about the merry-go-round of the Merciful Sisters?"



The children shook their heads.



"Doesn't the orphanage in the south of the city also belong to the Merciful Sisters?" Riccio asked.



"Exactly!" Ida stirred some more sugar into her coffee. "About one hundred and fifty years ago -- so the legend says -- a rich merchant gave a very valuable gift to the orphanage: He had a merry-go-round built in the courtyard. It had five beautiful wooden figures on it. There's still a picture of them above the door to the orphanage. In it, a unicorn, a sea horse, a merman, his mermaid, and a winged lion do their rounds beneath a colorful wooden canopy. Back then, some wicked tongues claimed that the rich man wanted to relieve his conscience because he himself had once brought the unwanted child of his daughter to the orphanage. Others, however, disputed that and said he was simply a warmhearted man who wanted to share his wealth with the poor orphaned children. Whatever the case, soon everyone in Venice was talking about the amazing merry-go-round -- and that's saying something in a city with as many wonders as this one. The rumor soon spread that, because of that merry-go-round, magical things were happening behind the orphanage's walls."



"Magical things?" Riccio looked at Ida Spavento wide-eyed, just the way he looked at Hornet when she read to them...



Ida nodded. "Yes, very strange things. People said that a few turns on the merry-go-round of the Merciful Sisters made adults out of children and children out of adults."



For a few moments there was complete silence. Then Mosca laughed out loud. "And how's that supposed to work?"



Ida shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I'm just telling you what I heard."



Scipio detached himself from the door frame to come and sit on the edge of the table next to Prosper and Bo.



"What's the wing got to do with the merry-go-round?" he asked.



"I was just coming to that," Ida replied. She poured Bo some more juice. "The sisters and the orphans weren't to enjoy their present for long, as it turned out. After only a few weeks, the merry-go-round was stolen. The sisters had taken the children on a day trip to Burano and when they returned they found the gate had been forced open and the merry-go-round taken. It was never seen again. However, in their hurry, the thieves had left something behind ..."

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