‘Can I use your room for a minute?’ Misha whispered to Autumn and Kensy.

The two girls looked at her curiously. They hadn’t so much as stepped through the hotel doors when Lola bounded away upstairs, eager to get changed out of her uniform. Mrs Vanden Boom had told the children they could spend the rest of the day in casual clothes, so Lola had important decisions to make – being stylish in Rome wasn’t an option, it was mandatory. Misha had begged off for a moment, telling the girl she was feeling a bit bound up and wanted to see if Mrs Vanden Boom had some laxatives. She knew Lola wouldn’t want to be part of that conversation.

‘Of course,’ Autumn said. ‘Is there anything we can help with?’

‘I just need to check in. I saw something earlier and I think it might be important,’ Misha said.

‘Won’t Lola be wondering where you are?’ Kensy asked.

‘She’ll be ages getting changed and this should only take a few minutes.’ Misha smiled tightly. Ever since she’d seen Sergio, her mind had been going a million miles a minute.

Kensy handed over her key. ‘Here, take this. Good luck.’

Kensy and Autumn exchanged quizzical looks, but they weren’t about to ask Misha what she’d seen. Her mission with Lola was highly classified and, until they needed to know, it was really none of their business.

‘Mrs Vanden Boom said there were some snacks upstairs,’ Kensy said. Lunch seemed a long time ago and dinner wasn’t until six.

The girls headed upstairs to the restaurant, where there were platters of fruit and some biscotti. Kensy made two cups of tea and the pair sat in the window, watching the crowds in the piazza below. The fountain was every bit as popular as it was yesterday.

‘Do you think Mr Frizzle would be willing to take us for a walk somewhere?’ Kensy said. She hated the idea of being cooped up inside until dinner.

The room was filling fast with hungry children, chattering about the day. Max walked up behind his sister. He and Carlos had already ditched their uniforms, and Autumn was secretly admiring Max’s navy sweater. The colour really brought out the blue of his eyes.

‘Frizzle wants to look at some art gallery around the corner, if you’re keen to get out,’ Max said. ‘But he’s leaving in ten minutes, so you’d better hurry up.’

‘Seriously, can you two read each other’s minds?’ Autumn said with a grin, and downed the last dregs of her tea.

‘Meet you at the front door,’ Kensy said to the boys as she and Autumn dashed away to get changed.

‘Now, I know you’re all very reliable and, with Max’s memory for maps, you’re welcome to take a spin around the block for half an hour so long as you stay together,’ Elliot Frizzle said to the children. They were standing outside the entrance to the gallery, which was located around the corner from the hotel. He had been dying to pop by ever since he’d noticed a stunning print of a lion in the window yesterday. If it wasn’t too expensive, he had exactly the right spot for it in his flat.

‘Thanks, Mr Frizzle,’ Max said, glancing at his watch. ‘We’ll meet you back here in thirty minutes.’

Elliot rubbed his hands together gleefully. He’d just glimpsed a bronze relief of Caesar that would look divine on the side table in his entrance hall.

‘Have fun, sir,’ Carlos said.

‘Oh, I will – don’t you worry about that, young man.’ He smiled broadly then dipped his hat and pushed open the shop door, tripping a tinkly bell that alerted the owner to his arrival.

The children set off along the street, with Autumn pointing out the amazing array of doorknockers that ranged from inter twined vipers to lion’s heads and goddesses.

‘They’re a bit boring, though,’ Carlos said, ‘unless you use them.’ He ran to the nearest door and gave the knocker a loud pounding. The noise made the rest of them jump.

Max grimaced. ‘Really?’

Carlos began to run. ‘Come on,’ he called over his shoulder.

The other three raced after the lad just as the door opened and a man with a moustache poked his head out into the street, looking perplexed. They turned the corner, puffing.

‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ Autumn chided over the sound of Kensy’s giggles.

‘It was only for a laugh,’ Carlos said. ‘Seriously, Autumn, sometimes I think you’re a card-carrying member of the fun police.’

The girl eyeballed the lad. ‘It’s not that funny. Besides, the man might have been in the middle of something important.’

‘Whatever,’ Carlos said, waving a hand in the air.

‘Where are we?’ Kensy took in their surroundings. The trouble was that lots of the streets and alleys looked the same.

‘The other side of the orphanage,’ Max said.

Up ahead, a door opened and a man dressed in a dark waistcoat, grey shirt and black pants walked outside. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, kicking at the cobbles while he blew smoke rings into the air. He sat down on the top step, oblivious to their presence.

‘We should go,’ Max said.

Just as they were about to turn back, three boys and two girls ran around the corner. Kensy realised she’d seen the tallest of the lads yesterday. He was the kid she’d thought had stolen the man’s wallet near the Spanish Steps. Except that he hadn’t – or maybe he had. She was still confused about what had actually happened. There was something else about him too, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

The man stood up and walked back inside the building. He reappeared with a wicker washing basket and dumped it on the ground. ‘Cosa avete portato?’ he said, taking a drag of his cigarette and glaring at the children.

‘What did he say?’ Autumn whispered to Kensy. Instinctively, the four of them had stepped behind a car.

‘What did you bring?’ Kensy replied, her eyes widening as it soon became clear. The five children emptied their pockets and backpacks, a veritable avalanche of wallets and purses, phones, cameras and money raining into the basket.

‘I feel like we’ve stumbled into the pages of a Charles Dickens novel,’ Max whispered as he peered out from behind the hatchback that was shielding them from view.

The man threw his cigarette onto the ground and stubbed it out, then picked up the basket. ‘Ottimo lavoro.’ He grinned, revealing a glinting gold tooth. ‘There will be thousands out there tonight for the marches. Go, go!’

The five children turned and ran away, back down the lane. Who knew where they would find their next victims and how many there had already been that day.

‘Come on,’ Kensy said. ‘We’ve got to tell the police.’

Just as they were about to leave, the man with the basket spotted them. ‘Hey!’ he called out. ‘What are you looking at?’

He took a step inside the door, then barked something unintelligible in Italian. But his meaning soon became clear as three younger men stormed out into the street.

‘Get them!’ the older fellow shouted.

Max grabbed his sister’s hand and the four of them took off. But the men were fast and hot on their heels.

‘This way!’ Max yelled, leading them around the corner and into a narrow lane, where cars were whizzing through. The boy was trying to remember the layout of the area from the map he’d studied. He was frantically thinking about how they could double back to the hotel.

Carlos followed Max across the road, right in front of a speeding car. It screeched to a halt, gently coming to rest against the boy’s leg. Carlos grabbed Autumn’s hand and the pair leapt over the bonnet as the driver beeped his horn and shook his fist. The three thugs were still coming at them. One of them ran straight into the car door. He bounced off, grabbing the side mirror, which came away in his hand.

Max felt as if his chest was about to explode. ‘Up here!’ he yelled. ‘Hurry!’

The children reached the end of the road and were suddenly caught in a wave of people chanting and waving placards. It seemed that last night’s protesters had swollen tenfold, and the angry men and women had taken over the streets. Max wound his way through the crowd, clutching his sister’s hand, but as hard as they tried to stick together, they were soon separated. Max’s voice was drowned out by the shouting and he had no idea where Kensy had disappeared to. Among the sea of faces, he spotted Autumn being jostled behind him, but there was no sign of Carlos. He could only hope that Kensy was forging on. Max was heading towards Autumn when he stopped dead and swallowed air.

‘Dad!’ the boy screamed. He dodged the oncoming throng, his shouts rising higher and higher. For a second, he forgot all about the men pursuing them. Max’s cries caught in his throat as he lost sight of his father. ‘Dad, where are you?’ he screamed again, turning circles among the mass, hot tears pricking at his eyes.

A pair of thick arms reached out and grabbed him. Instinctively, Max kicked backwards, connecting with the fellow’s shin hard enough that he released his grip. Max dove under a nearby pair of legs like a rugby player, then scrambled to his feet and ran as fast as he could. He almost crashed into Autumn, who grabbed his hand and wrenched him sideways. They held on tight and dashed in and out of the demonstrators until they reached a building on the edge of the road, where they pressed themselves into the doorway and out of sight. It was only then that Max let go. He wiped his face with the backs of his hands.

‘Are you okay?’ she asked.

Max closed his eyes and nodded.

‘There’s Kensy!’ Autumn waved her arms and screamed as loudly as she could, but the girl was running ahead and didn’t hear her.

Fortunately, Carlos had located Max and Autumn. He reached them, puffing and panting. ‘I think we lost them,’ he called over the chanting, which had now combined with whistles and drums. There were fiery torches too.

Autumn shook her head and pointed. ‘No, there they are – right behind Kensy.’

The boys looked at each other. They had to cause a distraction so Kensy would get away, but how they were going to make themselves heard over this din was anyone’s guess. Then Max remembered something. ‘My watch has a loudspeaker on it – Mrs Vanden Boom showed me the other day.’

‘Well, hurry up and use it!’ Carlos urged.

Max fiddled with the contraption. There was a screech of feedback then the boy’s voice boomed, ‘Pickpockets! Borseggiatori!’ The crowd was briefly silenced. Carlos had climbed up a drainpipe and was pointing at the men who were dodging their way through the melee.

Kensy looked around and spotted Carlos with her brother and Autumn. She ran towards them. Almost immediately, the mob began to jostle the fellows while some of the protestors made a grab for them. The ruckus impeded their progress just long enough for the children to make their escape.

Max pointed to a small alley. ‘This way!’

‘It better not be a dead end,’ Kensy panted. She turned to look back and saw that the thugs had also emerged from the crowd and were after them again.

The children fled down the alley.

‘The hotel’s on the other side of that building,’ Max said.

‘There’s a gate!’ Kensy yelled.

Autumn grabbed the metal posts and rattled them fiercely. ‘It’s locked!’

Kensy foraged around in her messy hair, pulling out her hairclip along with several long blonde strands. She fumbled, trying to get the device into the ancient padlock.

‘Hurry, they’re coming!’ Autumn urged.

Finally, the mechanism gave way and the gate swung open. The children rushed through.

‘Close it!’ Max shouted.

One of the men reached the gate and was pushing hard, but the kids threw their weight against the metal so that Kensy could snap the lock shut. The other two men arrived just as she did, and it was clear from their size that the children would have stood no chance against the three of them.

Max stared into one of the men’s ink-coloured eyes. His chin was covered in stubble and there was a deep scar across his left cheek. He had a small tattoo on his wrist – Max thought it said ‘hero’. That was a joke. There was certainly nothing heroic about this guy.

‘Sei morto,’ the man called after the children as they fled down a steep set of stairs and into the cellar below.