Disappearing Act

by Jacqueline Harvey

  Kensy felt a ripple of anticipation course through her body. ‘We have to find Nico before his mother signs those documents.’ She gasped as an idea came to her. ‘If we locate that other boy first, he can lead us to him.’ She jumped to her feet. ‘Come on, what are we waiting for?’

  ‘Kens, we need a strategy,’ Max said. ‘There’s no point running around the city aimlessly. What if Nico’s –’

  ‘Right under our noses,’ Autumn said, looking across the piazza at the orphanage. ‘That place is full of children and that boy from the photograph is bound to be there. We know he’s one of the gang . . . Would anyone notice an extra? And Miss Ziegler said that Nico ran away across the rooftops. He could have easily ended up there by chance – just like you heard that woman say. It’s not that mad an idea when you think about it . . .’

  Kensy sat down on the edge of the bed and groaned. ‘Fine, party poopers, but I still think we’ve got to get out there tonight – before it’s too late.’

  On that they all agreed.

  Carlos kept watch on the orphanage while they brainstormed their plans. Luckily, he’d thought to bring his special reading glasses – which were actually thermal binoculars – and used them to work out a rough map of the building.

  ‘I think the children are on the fourth floor,’ he said, raising the glasses to the top of his head. ‘There’s more concentrated heat there than anywhere else.’

  ‘What about the basement or the attic?’ Max asked. ‘They’re the most obvious places to hold someone captive. I doubt they’d keep Nico with the other kids – he’d be more likely to escape that way.’

  Carlos put on his glasses again and had a look, but there didn’t seem to be anything bigger than a mouse on either of those levels.

  ‘How are we going to get in?’ Autumn asked.

  Carlos had already worked that out. He’d spotted an old coal chute up against the building that would give them direct access to the cellar. It was shielded from the piazza by a roadworks sign, but there was a padlock.

  ‘We can’t all go,’ he said. ‘If something happens, we’ll need at least two of us to launch a rescue mission – and perhaps it should be me and Autumn. We’ve had a bit of experience in that department.’

  Max grinned, recalling how Carlos and Autumn had come to his and Kensy’s aid in London, when a couple of brutes had tried to kidnap them off the street.

  While the children were busy planning, Misha had gone to tell Miss Ziegler what was going on, but the woman wasn’t in her room. Misha then tried the other teachers, but none of them were about either. The only rational explanation was that they were all working on something for the main mission and were meeting somewhere in secret. At this point, it looked as though they were going it alone. She thought about involving the other kids but decided to keep things low-key, at least until they worked out if Nico was actually in the orphanage. Too many trainee agents on a real mission could easily get out of hand.

  ‘If we’re not back in an hour, you know what to do,’ Max said. Carlos threw him his black beanie and Kensy pulled a sweater over her head.

  ‘Should we test comms again?’ Kensy asked. She’d given Autumn her watch so that they could communicate through Max’s.

  The last time Mrs Vanden Boom had examined it, she’d found a radio transmitter and a tiny earpiece that you could pull out from the dial. In fact, the woman had studied the watches on several occasions now and each time had discovered another fascinating feature.

  Autumn gave Kensy a hug. ‘Good luck.’

  Max leaned in for one too, which set Autumn’s heart rate on double time. Carlos and Misha gave them a wave as they left the room. The trio watched from the window as the pair headed into the piazza, which was still crowded with tourists.

  ‘There they are,’ Autumn said, spotting Kensy and Max below.

  Max pretended to run his hand through his hair, positioning his watch by his mouth. ‘Can you hear me?’ he asked.

  ‘Loud and clear,’ Autumn replied, her eyes tracing Kensy’s movements as the girl rounded the back of the roadworks sign. She saw Kensy take out her hairclip and, no more than ten seconds later, she and Max disappeared.

  Kensy slid down the narrow chute and flicked on her tiny torch to illuminate the dingy space. Apart from a few lumps of coal in the corner, the room was stacked with pallets of beer and cigarettes. There was another tower of boxes containing olive oil and several sacks of onions, some of which must have already turned bad, given the stench.

  Max put on Carlos’s heat-seeking glasses as Kensy listened at the door. Once he gave her the signal, she pulled it open and checked the hallway with a small pocket mirror. ‘It’s clear,’ she whispered, and ventured outside.

  The air was thick with damp as the twins crept to the end of the hallway. Max pointed up a set of timber stairs and Kensy stepped onto the bottom tread, wincing as it groaned under her weight. The second step creaked too. Max followed behind her, holding his breath until they reached a small landing. The pair of them crept to a door with a circular glass panel in the top half and froze when they heard voices on the other side. Max had made the rookie error of not using Carlos’s glasses to check if anyone was there.

  After a moment’s pause, Kensy stood on her tiptoes and peered through the porthole into a large kitchen. There was an ancient cooker and a long table littered with beer bottles and abandoned dinner plates. Seated around it were the three men who had chased them and the older fellow who they’d seen collecting the stolen items from the children. There was another man in a pinstriped suit with his back to them.

  A woman entered the room from a side door. It was Sister Maria Regina. Although dressed in her habit, she was without her wimple. Her long dark hair floated about her shoulders, but it was what she did next that made Kensy gasp in horror. The woman gripped one side of her face, gouging her skin. With a sharp tug, her entire visage came away. Her face was instantly transformed from the middle-aged nun with the huge nose into the young woman who Kensy had seen leaving the orphanage the other night. She then removed her teeth too and put them in a jar by the sink.

  Kensy gagged and looked away. ‘Eww. Now, that’s where I draw the line.’

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Max said impatiently. He didn’t think it was a good idea for both of them to be peering through the window – they were more likely to be seen.

  ‘It’s the woman,’ Kensy whispered. She turned back in time to see Sister Maria Regina tousle her hair and spotted a mark – no, a word – behind her ear. Nero.

  ‘Sister Maria Regina is Diavolo too,’ Kensy said out of the corner of her mouth. ‘She’s been wearing a mask this entire time – and it’s gross. Be grateful you didn’t have to see it for yourself. Talk about taking one for the team.’ The girl’s mind suddenly turned to Shugs. Was that how he’d fooled everyone – with a mask? But there was no time to worry about him now. She’d have to mull over that one later.

  Unable to resist, Max popped up beside her to steal a peek. He immediately recognised Sister Maria Regina as the woman in the restaurant.

  The twins surveyed the rest of the group and noticed that they all had the same word inked onto their wrists. The man in the suit stood up and walked to the other end of the room. Kensy felt a stab of disappointment when she realised he was the fellow who she’d thought had his wallet stolen near the Spanish Steps. Her hunch that he and the boy had been up to something had been right. For now she and Max weren’t going any further – not in this direction, anyway.

  ‘Ho vinto!’ The older man slapped his hand of cards onto the table and laughed uproariously. He rose to his feet, scraping his chair against the floorboards, then spooned indeterminate food onto a plate and made his way straight towards the twins. They ducked their heads and scrambled back down the stairs, along the passage and into the storeroom. Seconds later, heavy footsteps thumped in the hallway.

  ‘Nico must be down here somewhere,’ Max whispered. ‘He’s bringing food.’

/>   ‘Or they’ve run out of beer.’ Kensy gulped, realising they were definitely hiding in the wrong room if that were the case.

  The pair listened at the door then pulled it open ever so slightly. They could see the older fellow pause at the room diagonally across from them. He banged on the door and yelled something in Italian. When there was no reply, he opened a small box in the wall and was about to place the plate of food in it when he must have caught sight of something. The plate smashed onto the floor as he turned the key in the lock. He charged into the room and caused an almighty ruckus before racing out and up the stairs, shouting at the top of his lungs.

  The twins closed the door and turned to one another. Kensy’s heart was pounding a million miles a minute. Although her Italian wasn’t the best, she thought she had a fair idea of what the man had said . . . but how was it possible?

  Max, his face ashen, raised his watch to his lips. ‘We’re too late. He’s gone.’

  Kensy was about to climb up the chute when a sound came from near the pallet of boxes. She paused and pressed a finger to her lips, then gestured towards them. It might have only been a rat, but she had to know for sure.

  Max frowned then, cottoning on, joined her in tiptoeing towards the stack. They split up, each taking one side, all the while listening out for the men in the corridor. No doubt they were going to burst in any minute now. Just as Kensy peered around the corner, a boy covered from head to toe in grime ran at her, knocking her out of the way.

  ‘Stop!’ she cried, hitting the floor.

  As the lad scurried up the chute, Max grabbed him around the ankles and held fast. ‘Nico, we’re here to help you,’ he explained in broken Italian. ‘Please – you need to come with us. Your mother is in danger and you are too.’

  The boy struggled to break free but stopped once Max’s words had registered. His chest heaved as his eyes, wide with fear, darted back and forth between Max and his sister.

  ‘You have to believe us,’ Max pleaded. ‘They’ll kill you otherwise.’

  Nico’s eyes were wild, like an animal caught in a trap, but something Max had said must have worked because his body relaxed and he nodded.

  Slowly, Max let go and introduced himself. ‘That’s my sister, Kensy,’ he added with a smile, ‘and we’re going to get you out of here.’

  They could hear yelling in the corridor and the sound of pounding footsteps and crashing doors.

  ‘We’ve got to go,’ Kensy said. She raced ahead of the boys and shoved the hatch, hoping that the piazza was still crowded.

  Nico followed after her with Max bringing up the rear. He pulled his feet through the chute as the storeroom door flew open. Max closed the hatch and secured the padlock just as someone bashed against it from the other side.

  Kensy turned to Nico and placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘You have to come with us. The only way we’re going to catch those guys is if you do as we ask.’

  Nico shivered then nodded his head again.

  Taking his hand in hers, Kensy led the way across the piazza and into the hotel at break-neck speed. Moments later, the trio were safe and sound in Autumn and Kensy’s room. Nico sat on the end of Kensy’s bed, a mixture of terror, confusion and relief on his face.

  ‘You’ll be safe here for now,’ Max said to the boy in Italian.

  ‘Shall I get some food?’ Autumn asked, wondering what one was supposed to offer a recently rescued hostage. ‘I’m sure I can find something in the kitchen.’

  ‘I’ll help you,’ Misha offered.

  ‘I am not hungry,’ Nico replied in English, to the group’s surprise. ‘But perhaps later I may have a shower?’

  ‘Oh, he speaks,’ Kensy noted wryly. ‘And in our mother tongue.’

  Nico managed a shy smile and shrugged. ‘I study English at school.’

  This was going to make things a lot easier for everyone.

  ‘Please, you must tell me who are you and why were you looking for me?’ Nico asked. His eyes scanned each one of their faces in bewilderment.

  It was hard to know where to start, but between the five of them, they filled Nico in on all the details and why it was crucial that he stayed with them until they worked out their plan of attack. Given the President and Diavolo were involved, there was far too much at stake to return him to his mother just yet.

  ‘And I think I’ve worked out the significance of Nero,’ Misha said. While the twins had ventured behind enemy lines, she had taken herself to the business centre to do some research. ‘Well, we all know the ancient ruler was an evil man. The Diavolo have used his name as their symbol. It turns out that the letters of Nero Caesar represented by numbers in Hebrew add up to 666 – the number of the devil. It’s actually not that clever because there’s heaps of information about it on the internet.’

  Nico shook his head. ‘I cannot believe I was unlucky enough to have fallen through the roof of that awful place. They must have thought I was the best Christmas gift ever.’

  ‘If it makes you feel any better, they were planning to kidnap you anyway,’ Max said.

  Kensy spun around on a chair by the desk. ‘Where were you going that night?’ she asked the boy.

  ‘I was running away to be with my grandfather. He and my mother don’t get along any more and I miss him so much. He was cruel to my mother when she remarried. I have been horrible to her too. My mother was a lawyer, but she had higher ambitions and wanted to help everyone. I blamed my stepfather for encouraging her into politics. She was so loved to begin with, but now the people hate her and she has made terrible mistakes. I have not made life any easier for her or my stepfather. He has tried so hard with me, but all I have done is push him away.’ Tears welled in the boy’s eyes. It was the first time he’d allowed himself to cry. He just wished it wasn’t happening now in front of three girls.

  Kensy fetched him tissues from the bathroom and saved one for herself. She hadn’t thought about her own parents since the train trip, and at the mention of Nico’s mother, she’d felt a stab of despair like a punch in the stomach. There hadn’t been time to try to find out more about their grandparents either.

  Max looked at her and tugged on his left earlobe – it was their secret way of saying things would be all right. She didn’t even want to think otherwise.

  ‘Who exactly are you?’ Nico looked at Elliot Frizzle, who, along with Lottie Ziegler and the girls, were now crammed into Max and Carlos’s hotel room. Shards of light pierced the room through the edges of the drawn curtains and a cacophony of bells tolled across the waking city.

  Kensy had perched herself on the end of Max’s bed while Autumn sat at the writing desk, and Misha had found herself a spot on the toilet seat, which faced straight into the bedroom from the bijou en suite. The teachers stood on either side of the door, looking a picture of bemusement.

  ‘I’m an Art teacher and Miss Ziegler’s a Maths teacher and, together with the students, we’re on a history tour of Rome,’ Elliot replied. ‘Although it doesn’t quite feel like it at the moment.’

  ‘No, I mean . . . who are you really?’ Nico repeated. ‘I do not understand why a group of English children would try to rescue me and how they would even know my mamma was being blackmailed.’

  Elliot leaned against the doorjamb and folded his arms. ‘I’m afraid that’s rather by the by. All you need to know, Nico, is that you can trust us and we will do everything in our power to get you back home safely.’

  ‘Do you really think we can pull it off, sir?’ Max asked. His mind had been running over everything they’d learned about the Diavolo in the past twelve hours, twisting and turning the information like a Rubik’s cube. Catching them was going to be tricky but incredibly exhilarating at the same time.

  ‘I have every faith,’ Elliot said with a nod.

  Nico had slept soundly for the first time since he’d run away on Christmas Eve. Carlos had given up his bed to the boy and had top and tailed with Max. The pair of them had been awake half the night, partly keeping a
n eye on their guest to make sure that he didn’t try to leave, and mostly thinking about the plan to bring down the Diavolo, which they had plotted out with their teachers overnight.

  ‘Alessandro Grimaldi will have agents stationed on every corner. You’ll be watched, but you’re going to have to keep one step ahead of them all the way,’ Lottie said. ‘If the men from the orphanage suspect foul play, it will jeopardise everything.’

  Nico’s head snapped up. ‘Who is Alessandro Grimaldi?’ he asked. ‘I have heard that name before.’

  ‘Someone who can stop the people who have been blackmailing your mother,’ Elliot Frizzle said. ‘Now, let’s organise some breakfast while we wait for the others to leave for the day. Miss Ziegler is going to shadow you once you’re out on the street. Mrs Vanden Boom and I will accompany the rest of the children to the church this morning with Mr Reffell. He’s organised a tour. It’s going to be very interesting, actually. Apparently, the hearts and internal organs of over thirty popes are embalmed and stored in urns over there – absolutely fascinating stuff – and then we’re off to the Villa Borghese gardens.’

  Kensy blanched. ‘What?! I intercepted the Prime Minister’s note in one of the urns in that church – gross! What if I was touching the heart of a pope?’

  Autumn chuckled and Max grinned to himself.

  ‘I’d consider it an honour – perhaps even a blessing,’ Elliot said, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

  ‘What are you going to tell the others?’ Carlos asked. He couldn’t imagine they would be able to disappear for the day without causing some discussion among the rest of the group.

  Elliot Frizzle scratched his head. ‘You’ve all come down with a stomach bug and we’re keeping you in isolation – Miss Ziegler drew the short straw and has to look after you.’

  That sounded feasible enough. Even the other agents-in-training wouldn’t question that and, when it came down to it, no one wanted a case of the vomits. But if they were needed at all, the adults had already decided that Elliot would look after the five students who weren’t part of Pharos – which the man really did consider as drawing the short straw; he would have loved to see some active duty himself.