‘You look sad,’ said Melanie.

  Friday looked up from the slide rule she was observing. ‘I was just thinking,’ said Friday. ‘Poor Galileo, he was looking at the stars. But all anyone saw in his work was the potential for firing cannonballs.’

  ‘And undermining the fundamental tenets of the church,’ said Melanie.

  ‘Barnes!’ cried Parker. ‘You’ve got to come and look at this.’

  ‘What now?’ asked Friday. Knowing Parker, if he thought it was something interesting, they had probably tied a younger student to a pillar or something. She went over to where Parker was standing. There was a cabinet in the middle of the room, with what looked like two ornate jam jars on display.

  ‘Look,’ said Parker. ‘It’s two of his fingers. In jars!’

  Friday looked more closely. Now that she had been told what it was, it was unmistakable. The jars contained the bones and sinews of two human fingers. Exactly like the finger bones you would see on a plastic skeleton in a doctor’s surgery. ‘What?’ said Friday.

  ‘They’re Galileo’s,’ explained Ian. ‘When he was posthumously redeemed, they dug up his remains and put them in the Santa Croce with all the other great Italian intellectuals – Rossini, Machiavelli, Dante. When they did that, they cut off two of his fingers to put on display.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Friday. It was really very gruesome.

  ‘As they say here in Italy,’ said Ian. ‘Perchè no? Why not?’

  Friday couldn’t take her eyes away from the fingers. They were so grisly. Her brain tried to come to terms with the fact that these bones had once been attached to the great scientist. Four hundred years ago, he had used those fingers to control his telescope. But she couldn’t do it. They were just gross.

  ‘You’re not going to faint, are you?’ asked Melanie.

  Friday didn’t get a chance. Suddenly a siren went off. It was deafening inside the stone-walled museum, the sound echoed off every surface. Guards in other parts of the museum were yelling in Italian, the sound of footsteps running was everywhere.

  ‘It’s a bomb!’ wailed Mirabella. ‘We’ve got to get out.’

  That’s when the panic really started. Everyone ran for exits. But the other Highcrest students were so lazy none of them had learned much Italian, so they didn’t know that uscita was the word for exit. They all started running in different directions.

  ‘Come on,’ said Ian. He grabbed Friday by the hand and started striding towards the main staircase. Friday had to take two steps for his every one. But she was glad for his reassuring presence. She was shorter than everyone else and, in the crowd, she couldn’t really see where she was going. Plus she was still a bit wobbly from seeing Galileo’s disembodied fingers.

  Eventually all the students figured it out and hustled down the stairs back to the entrance lobby, but when they got there they couldn’t exit, because a huge steel gate was locked in front of them. Uncle Bernie and his security team were on the other side. He held up his hands to stop them surging forward.

  ‘Nobody leaves!’ he bellowed.

  ‘But there’s a bomb!’ cried Mirabella.

  ‘We’re all going to die!’ added Trea. ‘It’s like the Titanic all over again.’

  Friday so rarely saw Uncle Bernie in action when he was being authoritative. Suddenly, instead of looking like an aging slob, his vast size was impressive – he looked like a wall of muscle that could stop them all single handed if he needed to.

  ‘There is no bomb,’ said Uncle Bernie, sternly. ‘Making inflammatory statements and causing a stampede is a criminal offence in this country. Be careful what you say.’

  Trea was chastened.

  ‘You will be allowed to leave one at a time after you have been searched,’ said Uncle Bernie.

  ‘You don’t have the right to search us,’ said Mirabella. ‘You need a search warrant.’

  ‘This is Italy,’ said Uncle Bernie. ‘The laws are different here. When you enter a location of historical significance, you are agreeing to comply with all the rules, which includes permission to search your person and belongings if an item from the collection goes missing.’

  ‘I’m calling Daddy’s lawyer,’ said Mirabella.

  ‘Fine, get him to call the lawyer at the Uffizi,’ said Uncle Bernie. ‘He’ll tell you exactly what I did, only in Italian and charging $800 an hour.’

  Mirabella had stopped listening. She was too busy dialling her phone.

  ‘All right,’ said Bernie. ‘I’m going to open this gate and you are going to step forward one at a time to be searched.’

  The students started muttering and complaining amongst themselves. This was clearly going to take a while.

  ‘Where’s Tatiana?’ Ian asked Friday. He was looking all around, trying to catch sight of her.

  ‘I haven’t seen her since we came downstairs,’ said Melanie.

  ‘Pietro!’ Ian called out to his friend on the other side of the crowd. ‘Wasn’t Tatiana with you?’

  ‘She went to the bathroom,’ said Pietro.

  ‘I’d better go and look,’ said Ian. He grabbed Friday’s hand again. ‘Come with me.’

  ‘Why do you want me to help you find your girlfriend?’ asked Friday.

  ‘If she’s in the bathroom, I can’t go in there, can I?’ said Ian.

  ‘Fine,’ said Friday. While everyone else lined up to be searched, Friday and Ian slipped away and jogged back up the stairs into the gallery.

  It didn’t take them long to find her. Tatiana was on the floor, with her back against the wall, tears streaming down her face as she clutched her knee. She was clearly in immense pain. Ian sprinted over.

  ‘What happened?’ he asked.

  ‘My knee,’ said Tatiana. ‘I tripped in the chaos. I think I’ve dislocated it.’

  ‘Let me see,’ said Ian.

  Tatiana lifted her hands and Friday almost fainted at the sight. Her leg was bent at a sickening angle.

  ‘Reset it for me,’ said Tatiana.

  ‘I can’t do that!’ said Ian.

  ‘It will be worse the longer I wait,’ said Tatiana. ‘You just need to pull it and twist it straight.’

  ‘You need a doctor,’ said Ian.

  ‘That would take hours,’ said Tatiana. ‘Please.’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ said Friday, kneeling down at her foot. ‘I’ve seen videos on the internet of how it’s done.’

  ‘Friday, you can’t,’ said Ian.

  ‘Just do it,’ pleaded Tatiana.

  Friday knew with all things that were going to hurt, from ripping off a bandaid on up, it was better to do it quickly and confidently. So that is what she did. She took hold of Tatiana’s foot, pulled and popped the knee back into position.

  Tatiana let out a blood-curdling scream and then collapsed completely.

  ‘That is the most horrific thing I have ever seen,’ said Ian.

  But Tatiana was already recovering herself. Her breathing was coming back to normal and she was able to tentatively bend her leg again.

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

  Suddenly, they heard the sound of footsteps thundering up the stairs.

  ‘Help is on its way,’ said Ian, wiping Tatiana’s hair away from her sweaty forehead for her.

  ‘GET AWAY FROM HER!’ the order was bellowed. They all looked up to see Inspector Benatti running towards them. He had his gun drawn and he was pointing it at Ian.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ asked Ian.

  ‘Get away from my daughter!’ ordered the Inspector.

  Ian puts his hands up and stood slowly. He was frightened.

  ‘Not you,’ snapped the Inspector. ‘The girl.’ He waved his gun at Friday.

  ‘Put that away,’ urged Bernie, as he hurried to catch up. ‘She’s a child.’

  ‘She’s a thief!’ declared the Inspector.

  ‘What?’ said Friday.

  Uncle Bernie was holding Friday’s backpack. ‘We found this in your backpack in the lockers.’ He reached in and pulled out something beautiful, golden and shiny. It was Galileo’s compass.

  The Inspector holstered his gun and lunged forward to handcuff Friday.

  ‘Hey, there’s no need to be so rough,’ said Ian.

  Friday barely registered what was going on. It was all too familiar. Her chest felt tight, she couldn’t breathe. She felt like she was in an airplane, plummeting towards the ground.

  ‘I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die.’ Friday didn’t even realise she was muttering this out loud. She was having a full-blown panic attack.

  ‘It’s okay,’ soothed Ian. Friday looked up and locked eyes with him. The old Ian. The Ian she knew. ‘It’s going to be okay,’ he reassured her. She realised he was holding her hand and squeezing it.

  ‘Are you sure?’ she asked weakly. She sounded like a frightened little girl. She didn’t want to go back to a juvenile detention centre, not one in Italy. Although the food would probably be better. She bet even in Italian prisons they used real parmesan cheese on the pasta.

  ‘I’m arresting you for theft,’ declared the Inspector.

  ‘This is ridiculous,’ said Friday, struggling to get her thoughts in order. ‘I’d never steal the compass. It’s pretty and shiny. And the mathematics it measures are clever. But it’s just a compass. Why would I steal that?’

  ‘Because you have a track record for terrorist activity,’ accused Inspector Benatti. ‘It makes sense you’d want to steal something to fund your operations.’

  ‘But Friday’s a genius,’ said Bernie. ‘She wouldn’t steal something that was mass produced. There are dozens of these in private collections and museums all around the world. It’s a stupid thing to steal, and a stupid way to try and hide it, just shoving it in a backpack. Someone must have planted it on her.’

  ‘But who?’ asked Friday.

  Military police were crowding into the room now.

  ‘We don’t need all these officers here,’ said Bernie. ‘I can handle this.’

  ‘Pah,’ said Inspector Benatti. ‘This is Italy’s scientific heritage. It can’t be left to a failed buffoon to sort out. You’re protecting her because she’s your niece. It’s a conflict of interest. I shall take her to the police station for questioning.’

  ‘This doesn’t make any sense,’ said Friday. She wasn’t really listening to the adults arguing. She was still puzzling over the crime. ‘It doesn’t make any sense.’

  ‘I’ll get Mum,’ said Ian. ‘I know she’s a flake, but she’s a lawyer. She’ll come down to the police station to make sure they take care of you.’

  ‘No,’ said Friday with sudden clarity. ‘No, it’s still here.’

  ‘Of course, it’s still here,’ said the Inspector. ‘It’s in your backpack. We caught you red-handed.’

  ‘That can’t be the real crime. It doesn’t make any sense,’ said Friday. ‘But this . . .’ she indicated the hive of activity about her with security guards, museum personnel, police and the armed response team all milling about. ‘This was the goal. To create a huge distraction. So, someone could commit a real crime. A bigger crime.’

  ‘You’re pretending to be mentally ill, aren’t you?’ accused the Inspector. ‘So, you can get off on a defence of insanity.’

  ‘No, she’s always like this,’ said Ian. ‘It’s not insanity. It’s just weirdness and sometimes rudeness. But she’s always perfectly lucid when she’s doing it. Unless she’s bumped her head.’

  ‘How can you defend her?’ asked Tatiana. ‘She has been caught red-handed, stealing from Italy’s cultural heritage.’

  ‘I know Friday would not do that,’ said Ian.

  But Friday’s mind was racing. ‘Something bad has happened here,’ she said. Friday turned to Bernie and asked, ‘If you were a criminal, what would you steal?’

  ‘Huh?’ said Bernie. He didn’t want to hypothesise what crimes he might commit in front of a crowd of police officers.

  ‘What is the single most valuable artefact in the museum?’ asked Friday. ‘Most of these displays are replicas or examples of mass-produced instruments. What here has the most value?’

  ‘One of the clocks,’ said Ian, turning to look at the beautiful and ornate sixteenth century clocks. They were covered in gold and jewelled inlay.

  Friday shook her head. ‘The metal and stones are of some value. But not worth committing a crime of this scale. Think about it – who has the most discretionary spending money in our modern society? It used to be kings and queens, or dukes and duchesses, then industrialists, then oil barons, but these days it’s dotcom billionaires and Silicon Valley tycoons. In other words, huge science nerds. And what would they love to have in their pool room? Not something golden and shiny. But the most significant artefact from the most significant scientist.’

  ‘The lens!’ exclaimed Bernie.

  ‘Exactly, from Galileo’s telescope,’ said Friday, nodding. ‘The observations he made through that lens changed the entire course of scientific thinking. It’s priceless. Unless it’s stolen, then someone will give it a price.’

  Bernie didn’t hang around to discuss it further. He took off running through the museum, bursting through doors and pushing past guards.

  ‘I hope I’m wrong,’ said Friday.

  ‘If you’re wrong, you’re going to be in a lot of hot water for stealing the compass,’ said Ian.

  ‘I didn’t do it,’ said Friday. ‘And it isn’t stolen. It’s right there. If the lens has gone missing, that would be a real tragedy.’

  A few moments later, Uncle Bernie came jogging back. He looked ashen-faced. ‘You’re right. It’s gone!’ he said. ‘I don’t know how they could do it. The lens was inside a ten-foot high perspex case. The only way in is through a door on the top. You’d need a ladder.’

  ‘And they got away with it in the melee, thanks to your incompetence,’ accused the Inspector.

  ‘But how?’ said Ian. ‘The museum was locked down right away. No-one could come or go. You searched everyone before they could leave.’

  ‘Get all those kids back in here and we’ll search them again,’ Uncle Bernie barked out the order to his staff.

  ‘I don’t believe it for a second,’ said the Inspector. ‘This girl is spinning a web of lies and you’re protecting her. She’s been caught red-handed. She will face the full force of the law.’ The Inspector grabbed Friday by the elbow.

  ‘But that’s not fair,’ protested Ian.

  ‘Oh, Ian,’ said Friday. ‘Life isn’t fair.’

  ‘Hang on,’ said Bernie. ‘I’m not going to allow this.’

  ‘You have no choice,’ said the Inspector. ‘You are tolerated here as an immigrant employee. You will not be tolerated if you interfere in matters of the law.’

  The Inspector snapped his fingers and two officers grabbed hold of Friday and started walking her out of the building. Other officers fell in alongside like a rugby scrum. They were walking so fast, Friday, always a clumsy person, stumbled.

  ‘Hey, don’t be so rough with her,’ said Ian, grabbing the nearest officer by the arm. The officer jabbed his elbow out to shake Ian off, but Ian was a big teenager and he pushed back. Two other officers lunged forward and grabbed him too.

  ‘Don’t get involved,’ urged Friday.

  ‘Fine, you’ll be charged too,’ spat the Inspector. ‘Assaulting a police officer and interfering in a criminal investigation.’

  The officers forced Ian’s hands behind his back and put him in handcuffs.

  ‘You’re a bully,’ accused Ian.

  ‘Stop making a fuss,’ complained Tatiana. ‘You are making a fool of yourself.’

  ‘I don’t care what I look like!’ said Ian. ‘My friend is being hauled off to prison!’

  ‘I never liked you,’ the Inspector growled at Ian. ‘When you started seeing my daughter I looked you up. I know all about you and your family. Specifically your father’s criminal record. It is all falling in to place now. Should I put out a warrant for him too? Is he involved in this?’

  ‘Dad?’ said Ian. ‘He’s in Barbados.’

  ‘Hah!’ said the Inspector. ‘You can’t fool me. He’s been living in Bologna for the last five months.’

  ‘He has?’ said Ian.

  ‘Take them away,’ said the Inspector.

  ‘You’re overreacting,’ said Uncle Bernie.

  ‘The lens from Galileo’s telescope is missing and these two are involved,’ said the Inspector. ‘You’re blind to it because they are your relatives. Or perhaps you’re in on it with them.’

  ‘Hey, now that’s out of line,’ said Uncle Bernie.

  ‘Take them away,’ said the Inspector. ‘I will be writing letters of complaint about your conduct to the chairman of the museum, the mayor of Florence, the chief of police and every official in Italy all the way up to the Pope. You are done here in this city. I will see to it.’

  ‘The thief must have handed it off!’ Friday called out to Uncle Bernie, as the officers led her away. ‘It can’t have gotten far. You’ve got to hurry and shut down the square. Search everyone there.’

  ‘I’ll get on it,’ Bernie called after her. ‘Friday, whatever happens in the next few hours, don’t do anything. Don’t try anything. I will make this right. Have faith in me. I will get you out of this. But right now, the police station is the safest place for you.’

  ‘That’s only true when justice is just,’ said Friday. ‘And that is not always the case.’

  Friday and Ian were handcuffed to chairs either side of a desk in an open plan office in Florence’s main police station. The Inspector was in his own office, yelling at someone on the phone. Officers were bustling about, most of them trying to get out of the building. No-one wanted to be anywhere near the Inspector when he was in such a foul mood.