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furniture. “He doesn’t seem to have a lot of money,” she told Bess. “Certainly not as much as someone who is selling valuable antiquities.”
    Bess was sorting through the items scattered on Massimo’s desk when she found a scrap of paper with some numbers written on it. “Look at this,” she said, showing it to Nancy. “Fourteen, thirty-one, forty-three.”
    â€œDo you think that’s the combination to a safe?” Nancy asked, growing excited.
    â€œMaybe it’s the combination for one that hasn’t been broken into yet,” Bess suggested. “Or one he’s planning to rob.”
    Nancy found an envelope in her bag and copied the numbers onto it. “We can call Signora Fiorello and find out,” she said. Staring at the figures, another idea occurred to her. “I suppose this could just be a telephone number, too. I think this is the way they write them over here.”
    â€œBut I thought the numbers were seven digits.”
    â€œSome are,” Nancy said. “But the older ones are only six.” There was a telephone on the desk, so she picked it up and dialed the numbers.
    â€œPronto, ” a woman’s voice said over the line.
    Using her Italian, Nancy said, “I’m sorry, I may have the wrong number. Whose residence is this?” The woman told her, and Nancy hung up.
    â€œWell, we’ve solved that mystery,” Nancy told Bess, laughing. “It’s Karine Azar’s telephone number.”
    The girls burst out laughing. “He’s a real operator, even if he is nice,” Bess said, planting her hands on her hips. Then, more seriously, she added, “Do you think they’re working together?”
    â€œMaybe.” Nancy grabbed Bess’s arm and pulled her toward the door. “I can’t think straight anymore. Let’s take a break, okay? Why don’t we grab a pizza and see a movie?”
    Bess grinned. “As long as it has English subtitles, or you translate, you’re on.”
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    For the first time since arriving in Rome, Nancy and Bess wandered through Trastevere as true tourists. After watching a horror movie, they stopped in a piazza ringed with restaurants. Chairs and tables spilled out from each restaurant, filling the piazza. The girls ordered a thin, garlic-covered pizza with a smear of tomato sauce and stayed until the evening lights came on. They got back to their pensione just after dark.
    As Nancy and Bess were walking past the front desk, Signora Verona stuck her head out from behind the curtain. “A Signora Fiorello called for you about ten minutes ago,” she told the girls. “She wants you right away.”
    Nancy called from the lobby phone. The phone only rang once before Sandro’s mother answered.
    â€œNancy! Thank goodness you called,” Signora Fiorello exclaimed. “Something terrible happened.”
    â€œAre you all right?” Nancy asked. “Did something happen to Sandro?”
    â€œNo, no, we are fine. But another piece of Etruscan jewelry has been stolen!”

Chapter

Seven
    O H, NO !” N ANCY CRIED.
    Quickly, she found out what had happened. The theft had occurred at a friend’s house, according to Sandro’s mother. Signora De Luca had come home after a party to find her Etruscan pin missing. She had called the police and then Signora Fiorello, who had told her about Nancy.
    Nancy got the woman’s address and promised to go over to the house right away.
    â€œSandro’s there, so he can introduce you,” Signora Fiorello told her. “He was visiting my friend’s son Carlo when she discovered what had happened.”
    Did Sandro just happen to be around? Nancy wondered as she hung up.
    After she told Bess what had happened, the girls hurried to the De Luca residence on their Vespas.Sandro and a swarthy young man who introduced himself as Carlo answered the door.
    Nancy