157-The Lure of the Italian Treasure by Franklin W. Dixon

Author:Franklin W. Dixon [Dixon, Franklin W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-08-07T15:15:13+00:00

CHAPTER 8

The Black Market

Joe quickly threw the uniform back over the rifle and closed the lid on the box. "Let's go. Bruno, andiamo - quickly."

Bruno nodded and they all hurried out. Bruno waved them on while he secured the secret door.

"Wait a minute," Joe whispered, stopping after taking a few steps up the stairway. "I think someone's coming."

They listened as someone began descending the stairs into the cellar.

“We've got to hide," Joe said desperately. "if the count finds us down here, we're sunk."

"There is no place to hide," Frank said. "We'll just have to pretend we don't know anything about the secret chapel."

Joe steeled himself for the confrontation and began walking back up the stairs. He tried to trump up some excuse for being there as the footsteps approached.

"Joe, Frank, Cosimo-you down there? Time to stop playing around and get back to work."

“Julia!" the three boys cried in relief.

“What on earth are you screaming about?" said Julia as she ran down the stairs to where they could all see her. "You look as though you've all seen a ghost."

After reaching the safety of the dig site, Joe began explaining to Julia what they had found. Before this, he and Frank hadn't wanted to involve Julia in their hit-or-miss investigation. Nobody had asked them to track down the jewels, and what they had done so far felt more like bumping around in a haunted house than doing active detective work. Now Joe felt they were in deep enough to start in earnest. Frank felt the same way.

"I admit you've been getting yourself into some tight spots," Julia said after Joe had brought her up-to-date. "But I don't know if it adds up to anything but bad luck and lack of prudence on your part. You're fortunate that Antonio Cafaggio didn't have you arrested. And eight-millimeter rifles are as common as potatoes-my father even has one back in England."

"But why is someone-presumably the count-keeping a rifle hidden away like that?" Joe asked.

“I don't know," she replied. "Perhaps nostalgia keeps him from turning it in to the authorities, as I assume he ought to do. We certainly don't have any proof that he-or anyone, for that matter-tried to spook your horses on purpose."

Listening to Julia, Frank realized that archaeology and crime investigation had a lot in common, and that Julia would make a good detective. "So what would you do in our shoes?" he asked.

"I think I'd probably try to help my field supervisor finish her dig."

"No, really," Frank insisted.

"Well," she said, "I suppose I'd try to trace the path of the jewelry, maybe try to find out if there's a dealer in Florence known for working with tomb robbers and for smuggling ancient artifacts to Switzerland. But it would be dangerous and involve a lot of footwork. Definitely not something people in the middle of an important dig are going to have time to do."

"But, Julia," Joe said, "wouldn't you like to have the jewelry back?"

"Yes, and then there's reality," she replied, handing Joe his trowel.

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