The man in the suit stubbed out his cigarette in an overflowing ashtray and sat back with a sigh. After a sleepless night, he was sporting a five-o’clock shadow and dark circles under his eyes. Some days he wondered if he should retire to the countryside and live a quiet life, but he knew that he couldn’t live without her and she would never agree to move away from the city.

‘From her latest communication,’ he began, ‘it is clear the boy has not returned home and she is expecting us to make the drop this morning, as planned. But it is impossible to make the exchange if we do not have the goods.’

‘How did the boy escape in the first place, Giovanni? Hmm?’ Sister Maria Regina inspected her manicured nails and glowered at the other man at the end of the table. ‘I thought we had the entire building under surveillance.’

Giovanni cradled his head in his hands and swallowed hard. He had forgotten that fact last night. Perhaps his old age was catching up to him.

The woman looked up, as if reading his mind. ‘Do you mean to tell me you have not checked?’ she hissed. Taking his silence as confirmation, she slammed her hand on the tabletop, rattling the glasses. ‘Well, don’t just sit there – check the footage now! I want to know exactly how he got out. And you –’ She threw an old newspaper at one of two young men standing in the room. It had Nico’s photo on the front, its edges beginning to curl. ‘Show his picture to the children and everyone else here and tell them to get out on the street and start searching. Or you will all be sent to work in the mill!’

Both men nodded and hurried away, followed by Giovanni.

‘Why do I employ such imbeciles?’ the woman muttered to herself. She pouted when she saw she’d broken a nail.

‘Indeed,’ the man in the suit said, and took a sip of his coffee. ‘I presume you have visited the church this morning.’

‘Of course,’ she replied. ‘It is done.’

Giovanni charged back through the door, jiggling about as if he needed the toilet.

The woman looked at him. ‘Out with it! What did you find?’

‘He escaped through the hatch where we passed the food – the boy must be some kind of a contortionist,’ the man said, sounding impressed.

‘You idiot!’ she fumed, and threw the ashtray at him.

‘Yes, yes,’ Giovanni said, ducking out of the way in time. The ashtray smashed into the wall behind him. ‘But that is not all. Two of the children who noticed our business transactions the other day were in the basement. They helped the boy escape through the chute in the cellar.’

The younger man, who had just returned to retrieve his jacket, gasped. ‘I know where they are!’ he said. ‘I saw them in the piazza when I was speaking with the poliziotti. They are staying in the hotel across from the fountain.’

‘Find them and get the boy,’ Sister Maria Regina demanded, her lips quivering. ‘And when you do, make sure they are never seen again!’