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they call it again?”
    â€œArrabbiata,” Nancy said. “Mine is great, too.”
    Bess speared some of the short, tubular pasta with her fork, then popped it into her mouth. “I didn’t understand what Signora Bellini said about Fabio Andreotti, though,” she said, getting back to the case. “And Signora Cresci mentioned him, too, right?”
    Nancy nodded. “I asked if anyone had shown a special interest in the jewelry, and they both mentioned Andreotti,” she told Bess. “Signora Bellini said that he has offered to buy her necklace so many times that it’s become a formality—part joke and part compliment.”
    â€œDo you think he wanted their jewelry badly enough to steal it?” Bess looked doubtful. “He seemed so nice.”
    â€œI don’t know,” Nancy admitted. “Most of the people we’ve met think the world of him, including Sandro’s mother. But I think we should find out more about him.”
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    â€œWould you believe I think I’m going to fall asleep?” Bess declared as the girls left the restaurant a short while later. “Didn’t Claudia say there’s an Italian tradition about napping after lunch?”
    â€œYesterday was a long day,” Nancy said. “And we’re going dancing tonight, remember?”
    â€œThat’s right! I can’t possibly fall asleep at the disco. I’d die of embarrassment.”
    â€œAll right.” Nancy laughed. “A siesta it is.” The girls chugged down the streets on their Vespas to their pensione. After locking the Vespas they entered the building. The lobby felt cool and slightly damp as they walked in. Their footsteps echoed as they went up the stairs.
    When they reached the second floor the family that ran the pensione was nowhere in sight. The front desk of the hotel was empty.
    â€œMaybe we could check out Fabio Andreotti later this afternoon,” Nancy suggested as they walked down the hall to their room.
    â€œSure,” Bess said, putting her key in the lock and pushing open the door. She stepped forward and stopped, staring inside.
    â€œNancy?” she asked in a small voice.
    â€œHmm?” Nancy looked over Bess’s shoulder—and gasped.
    Bess’s bed was overturned. Clothes and belongings were strewn across the floor and furniture. The room had been ransacked!

Chapter

Five
    I T’S THE NECKLACE ,” Bess whispered in a horrified voice. “The thief is after us!”
    â€œMaybe not,” Nancy said, although she suspected Bess was right. “See if you can find out what’s missing, but don’t move anything. I’ll get help.”
    Nancy ran down the hall to the front desk and rang the bell. A few minutes later the young woman who managed the pensione poked her head sleepily from behind a curtained door. She had curly, dark hair and a round face. Seeing Nancy, she stepped out to the desk.
    â€œSignora Verona,” Nancy said, remembering the woman’s name from when the girls checked in. Quickly she explained what had happened and led Signora Verona back to the room.
    â€œI don’t think anything was stolen,” Bess said, straightening up. “But the room’s a mess.”
    Nancy nodded, then turned to Signora Verona. “Did anyone come in looking for us?” she asked, speaking in Italian. “Did you see anyone acting suspiciously?”
    The woman shook her head. “No. Only our guests. I didn’t see anyone else.”
    â€œBut you weren’t at the desk when we came in,” Nancy pointed out gently. “Maybe someone got in without your seeing them.”
    â€œThe front door is locked at night and when we aren’t on duty,” Signora Verona replied. “Every guest has a key, so I don’t always look out when I hear the door.”
    Nancy frowned. The outside door had been ajar when she and Bess had come in just