Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11 Another vital document; another foreign language. "It isn't German," Nellie announced. "No?" Amy was flustered. "I just assumed, because we're in Austria — uh, what is it then?" Their Salzburg hotel room was small and not very nice. Dan was convinced that the management used low-wattage lightbulbs so that the guests wouldn't notice what a dump they were staying in. The au pair squinted at the document. "Italian, I think. Not one of my languages." The Cahills regarded her blankly. This was the first time Nellie had been unable to act as their translator. "So how do you know it's Italian?" asked Dan. "Spanish and Italian aren't too different. And this word — Venezia. I'm pretty sure that's

Venice, which is in Italy." Amy indicated the date — 1770. "Mozart would have been fourteen years old. Don't you remember the museum exhibits? He performed all across Italy around then. His father took him on tour." "So this is" — Dan frowned — "an eighteenth-century concert poster, starring Mozart?" "In Venice," Amy finished. "That's where the next clue must be hidden." Nellie grinned. "I always wanted to go to Venice. It's supposed to be the romance capital of the world." "Sweet," put in Dan. "Too bad your date is an Egyptian Mau on a hunger strike." The au pair sighed. "Better than an eleven-year-old with a big mouth." The drive to Venice took more than five hours. Sharing the backseat with Saladin, Dan nearly went out of his mind. He wasn't a fan of long car rides to begin with. And the frustration of begging the cat to eat was infuriating and worrisome at the

same time. They had so little left of their grandmother. They owed it to Grace to take proper care of her beloved pet. To add to his discomfort, there was also a long, severe lecture from his sister, reminding him of the grave importance of their quest and how much was at stake. "The wisecracks aren't helping, Dan! You have to grow up and take this more seriously!" "Seriously?" he echoed. "We're already up to our ears in serious! What we need is to lighten up a little! The next clue could be right in front of your nose, but you don't see it because you're too busy being serious!" "Cut it out!" Nellie bellowed. "You're going to put us in the ditch! They drive the speed of light on these autostradas!" "You drive the speed of light backing out of the driveway," Dan countered. "I'm not kidding! As long as I'm babysitting"— she glowered at Dan—"au pairing — you two are going to have to get along. I can handle the craziness; I can handle your nut-job relatives; I can

even handle you disappearing for hours on end. But not the fighting. Understand? You're on the same team. Act like it." Silence fell, and the argument was over as abruptly as it had begun. With the peace came a release of the tension of their Salzburg adventure. Nellie could almost feel the siblings rebooting, steeling themselves for the dangers that might lie ahead. They were Cahills, all right. Probably the only two decent human beings in the whole brood. Finally, they approached Venice and the coast. But before they'd even reached the city limits, traffic on the autostrada slowed to a crawl. "Aw!" Dan glared at the back of his sister's head in the passenger seat. Amy barely even noticed the slowdown. She was studying the Mozart concert announcement and had been since Austria. "What are you doing? Learning Italian by osmosis?" She ignored the joke. "There's a name on here I can't figure out. Who's Fidelio Racco?" "Another musician?" Nellie suggested. Amy shook her head. "Mozart and his sister

were a package deal. I never read anything about a third performer on their tours." "Well, if it really is a concert poster," Dan mused, "maybe this Racco guy is like a promoter." His sister thought it over. "It makes sense. Not a promoter like they have today. But back then, visiting musicians gave private shows at rich people's mansions. Maybe Fidelio Racco hosted Mozart and Nannerl. I wonder if we can find out where he lived." "No problem," Dan said sarcastically. "Just look him up in the 1770 phone book. Piece of cake." "This is Italy," Nellie reminded him. "It's 'piece of tiramisu' here. Mmm, gotta get some. Our exit," she added, roaring off the highway, past a sign marked VENEZIA, onto a wide boulevard. They pulled up behind a television mobile unit with familiar markings. Dan pointed. "Check it out — Eurotainment TV. Those are the guys who threw that bash for Jonah Wizard in Vienna." Suddenly, the Eurotainment van squealed left across two busy lanes and made a sharp turn,

tailing a silver stretch limo. Nellie leaned on the horn and barked, "Maniac!" "Follow him!" Amy said urgently. "Why?" "Do it!" she insisted. The wheel just a blur in her hands, the au pair managed to weave in and out of moving traffic, falling in behind the mobile unit. "Rock on!" cheered Dan. "Paparazzi chase!" He was right. The limo was trying to get away from Eurotainment TV. But the van driver refused to be shaken. Behind this high-speed game of cat and mouse rattled the Fiat, passing cars, running lights, and swerving around hapless pedestrians. "When I talked about seeing Venice, this was so not what I had in mind!" complained Nellie, hunched over the dashboard. "I wonder who's in the car — Brad and Angelina? Prince William?" "Keep going!" urged Amy. "I have a sneaking suspicion I know exactly who it is." It happened in the blink of an eye. The limo was speeding toward a bridge, with the mobile