The Thief Lord

"My name is Victor Getz. I have an appointment with the Hartliebs," Victor gave an apologetic smile, "for which I am rather late. Could you please check if they are still in their room?"

"Of course." The lady tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear. "What do you think of the snow?" she asked.

She let the word snow melt on her tongue like a delicious, creamy chocolate. Victor smiled as he noticed how her eyes kept straying toward the large windows and the snowflakes, which drifted past slowly.

"Hello, Signora Hartlieb," she said into the telephone, "there's a Signor Getz here to see you."

The Hartliebs had no time for the snow. Outside their window, San Giorgio Maggiore seemed to be floating on the lagoon as if it had just surfaced there. The view was so beautiful that Victor felt his heart ache. Esther and her husband, however, stood side by side with their backs to the window and only had eyes for him. Uneasily, Victor folded his hands behind his back.

Why hadn't he at least put on a mustache? That would have made lying so much easier. But the children had stolen all his wonderful beards.

"I'm glad you received my message. After trying to reach you for so many days, I had my doubts as to your being in Venice at all."

"I hardly ever leave the city," Victor answered. "I miss it too much as soon as I try to leave."

"Really!" Esther's eyebrows moved up and down as rapidly as a bouncing ball.

Amazing, Victor thought -- I could never do that.

"So, please, Signor Getz," Mr. Hartlieb was still as big as a house and nearly as white as the snowflakes drifting past outside, "could you tell us about your investigations?"

"My investigations, yes." Victor nervously bobbed up and down. "My findings are sadly quite clear. The little boy is no longer in the city, nor is his brother."

The Hartliebs exchanged a quick glance.

"Your rather unpleasant secretary already hinted at something like that," Max Hartlieb said, "but --"

"My secretary?" Victor interrupted him, but then he remembered just in time that Hornet, Prosper, and Riccio had been in his office to feed his tortoise. "My secretary, of course!" He shrugged apologetically. "You must know, I was already hot on their heels. The photo I sent you proves that. At that time, sadly, I was unable to catch the two of them. Too many people around, you must understand. I did find out, however, that your nephews had joined a gang of young thieves. And one of them, I'm afraid, recognized me. I caught him stealing a handbag some time ago. Well, that rascal probably convinced your nephews that Venice was no longer safe for them. Much to my regret, I have learned..." He cleared his throat. Why did lying always give him such a lump in his throat? "Hmhm, I have learned that the boys sneaked onto one of the large ferries that stop here regularly. From your window you have a good view of the moorings."

Confused, the Hartliebs turned around and looked down at the quay, where a large flock of tourists was crowding onto an excursion boat. "But," Esther Hartlieb looked so disappointed that Victor almost felt sorry for her, "where, for heaven's sake, was the boat going?"

"Corfu," Victor answered. How calmly he said that, despite that lump in his throat.

"Corfu!" Esther Hartlieb looked at her husband hopelessly as if he had to save her from drowning.

"Well, I can't be completely certain," Victor continued. "After all, when you're sneaking onto a ship you don't appear on the passenger list. I did, however, show the boys' picture to some of the crew, and they definitely recognized them. They just couldn't agree on which day exactly they were on board."

Max Hartlieb hugged his wife reassuringly. She let it happen, but stayed as stiff as a mannequin. She was still looking at Victor. For a second, he had the feeling that his lies were painted bright red on his forehead.

"It's not possible!" Esther Hartlieb said, detaching herself from her husband. "I told you it was no coincidence that Prosper came to Venice. The city reminds him of his mother. I can't believe he'd just leave."

"He probably got on that boat because he realized this place wasn't as wonderful as it sounded in his mother's stories," her husband ventured.

"And that, even if Venice does look like heaven, she wasn't here to greet him," Victor said thoughtfully, looking out of the window,

"No! No! No!" Esther Hartlieb shook her head violently. "Nonsense! I have a feeling he's still here. And if Prosper is still here, then so is Bo."

"I've had copies made of the photograph you sent us," she continued. "It arrived shortly after we spoke to your secretary and I had posters made from it. We're offering quite a substantial reward. I know you have already tried to dissuade us from using these means to search for the boys, and I do admit that a reward draws out the riffraff. But I will have those posters put up by every canal, every bar, every cafe, and every museum. I will find Bo, before he dies of pneumonia or consumption in this infernal city. He has to be protected from his selfish brother."

Victor just shook his head wearily. "Has it still not occurred to you?" he asked impatiently. "The two of them only ran away because you wanted to separate Bo from his brother."

"How dare you use that tone with me?" Esther Hartlieb shouted.

"The two of them are very close!" Victor shouted back. "Can't you understand that?"

"We'll get Bo a dog," Max Hartlieb answered calmly. "And then you'll see how quickly he forgets his big brother."

Victor stared at Mr. Hartlieb as if he had just unbuttoned his shirt and shown him an empty heart. "Please answer me one question," Victor said. "Do you actually like children?"

Max Hartlieb frowned. "Children in general? No, not really. They're so fidgety and loud, and often quite dirty."

Victor stared down at his shoes again.

"And," Max Hartlieb continued, "they have no idea of what's really important."

Victor nodded. "Well," he said slowly, "it must be a miracle, then, that such useless creatures grow up into something as great and reasonable as you, don't you think?"

With that he turned and walked out of the room and down the long hotel corridor. In the elevator, Victor's heart pounded wildly though he had no idea why. The lady at the reception smiled at him as he walked through the lobby. Then she looked outside again, where the snow was still falling as darkness fell.

The jetty in front of the hotel was empty. Only two warmly dressed figures were waiting for the next vaporetto. At first Victor went to buy a ticket as well, but then he decided to walk. He needed time to think, and a walk would calm his restless heart. At least he hoped it would. He trudged through the wind. He walked past the Doge's Palace, which was already illuminated by its pink lamps, and then stomped through the twilight across the deserted St. Mark's Square.

I have to warn the boys, Victor thought, while the wind threw icy needles at his face. I have to tell them what's happening. Should I go now? I don't even have a hat, and it's quite far to the movie theater. I'll go tomorrow morning. Bad news never sounds quite so bad in the light of day. Wearily, he made his way home. When he reached his front door, he remembered that he was supposed to be following someone for a new client that night. Sighing, he walked up the stairs. There was still time for a cup of coffee.