happy as she glanced around her. On either side of the narrow waterway, buildings rose like pastel-colored cliffs, the peaceful, murky waters lapping almost to the buildings’ doorways. Her frown deepened when she spied a gondola leisurely drifting up the canal; the gondolier was serenading a loudly-dressed, rapt-looking hippo and her shutterbug crane husband with O Solo Mio. She would have given anything to have been able to exchange places with that couple.

As if he read her mind, Baloo gave her hand a comforting squeeze. “As soon as we clear my name, we’ll take in some sight-seein’.”

“What if we don’t clear your name?” Rebecca said, panicking a little.

“Don’t go countin’ your troubles before they’re hatched, sweetheart.”

“Speaking of trouble, I think we’re in it,” she said wearily. Her eyes had rested on the ‘POLIZIA’ emblazoned on the door that the Inspector was holding open for them. “We’re at the police station.”

“Police station?” Baloo echoed, alarmed. “Say, Inspector, what is this? Did ya bring us all the way here just to slam me in the slammer?”

“No, I need to pick something up,” the inspector replied enigmatically as they stepped inside. The dim coolness was a welcome comparison to the sweltering sunshine outside.

“Wait here,” the inspector told them. He then proceeded to the front desk.

The newlyweds stood next to a bulletin board plastered with wanted posters as the Inspector talked to the two cops behind the desk. The Veniece policemen kept flashing suspicious glances at Baloo.

“I don’t like the way they’re lookin’ at me, Becky,” Baloo muttered, adverting his gaze from the desk. “Makes me feel like I am a low-down, dirty thief, like my mug belongs up here with these guys.” He jerked a thumb at the wanted posters.

“But youknow you’re not and that’s all that matters. You’ve never done anything shady in your life.” A mischievous twinkle came to her eyes as she started to count off on her fingers. “Except the time you changed all my calendars to Saturday to get your paycheck a day early, and I’ll never forget the time you lied about your little excursion to Mars to get a vacation, not to mention the time you...”

Baloo impatiently interrupted, “All right already. But I didn’t steal no papers from no lab.”

Reassuringly, Rebecca said, “I know you didn’t.”

“Tell that to them,” Baloo said quietly, glancing at the policemen.

Inspector Deuseau approached them, saying, “D’accord, we are all set.”

“What’s that?” Baloo pointed to manilla envelope the inspector was tucking into his outer jacket pocket.

“A little something I want you to give to Dr. Quark. Let’s go,” Deuseau said briskly.

“Go where?” Baloo asked as they followed the inspector outside.

“We have some shopping to do.”

Baloo groaned.

An Hour Later

The trio exited a men’s clothing store. Rebecca stole admiring glances up at Baloo, who sported a new black suit.

However, Baloo wasn’t so impressed with his new look. “I still don’t get why I gotta dress up in this fancy-pants zoot suit to meet a doctor who’s seen folks in their birthday suits.”

Sharing an amused smile with the inspector, Rebecca said, “Dr. Quark isn’t that kind of doctor.”

“You need to make a good impression on him, monsieur,” Deuseau explained. “After all, you are supposed to be a spy.”

“Supposed to be a spy?” Rebecca said hopefully. “Does that mean that you think Baloo is innocent?”

The inspector’s moustaches, drooping from the heat and humidity, comically flopped from side to side when he shook his head. “I am not sure, madame. Only when all the facts are before me will I be able to decide certainly.”

Rebecca’s smile, which had faltered with the inspector’s not-so-reassuring words, reappeared as they passed a store window. She abruptly halted, consequently causing Baloo to jerk backwards with a “Whoa!”

“Becky, what gives?” Baloo asked, wrenching his arm from her grasp.

Pointing to the window, she gushed, “Isn’t that the darlingest salt and pepper shaker set you’ve ever seen? Inspector, may I please go in and look?”

The inspector glanced at his watch. “Oui, madame. We have a little time.”

Baloo frowned. “I wouldn’t let her go in there if I were you, Inspector. There ain’t no stoppin’ when that gal starts shoppin’.”

“I heard that!” Rebecca retorted as she pushed open the door, causing the chimes to tinkle.

Bypassing the pots and pans and gleaming cutlery, Rebecca made a beeline for the salt and pepper shaker sets and promptly picked up the pair she had admired. Painted on the delicate white porcelain of the potbellied pair were willowy blue letters spelling out ‘Veniece’ as well as a blue silhouette of a gondola.

I’ll show Baloo, Rebecca thought to herself as she wove around the tall shelves and display cases towards the checkout counter. All I have to do is pay for these and we’ll be on our way. What in the...? She had spied something that prompted her to take a step backwards so that she was concealed behind a shelf.

A familiar-looking, well-groomed man that she couldn’t quite place was standing behind the counter, conversing with...

“Baloo?” she murmured to herself.

Confused, Rebecca glanced over her shoulder, out the window. Baloo and the inspector were still standing near the shop door.

As Rebecca’s eyes flitted from Baloo to the Baloo look-alike, then back to Baloo, she heard snatches of Hans’ and Baldrik’s conversation.

“Will you be returning here after your rendezvous, sir?”

“Nein,” Baldrik said brusquely.

“What a shame. Helga was so looking forward to preparing another special meal for you. Speaking of which, you hardly ate anything at lunch. Perhaps I could interest you in some dessert? Bavarian cupcakes, a von Bruinwald family favorite?”

“I don’t eat poison.” Baldrik glared in the direction from whence came the sound of metal against a whetstone.

That’s who that is! Rebecca thought with a gasp. It’s Hans from the von Bruinwald castle. And that other man; he must be the thief! I’ve got to tell Baloo.

As she turned to leave, her cardigan snagged on a saucepan handle. The pan clattered to the floor with a deafening noise before rolling out into the aisle.

Rebecca quickly picked up the pan and placed it back on the shelf after dusting it off. “Sorry,” she said, blushing.

Hans, though displeased by the interruption, said politely, “May I help you, madam?”

“N-no, thank you,” Rebecca stammered, shrinking under Baldrik’s piercing gaze. It was frightening to see someone who resembled her husband looking at her with so much hate. “I’ll just be going now,” she said, her voice unnaturally high. She was almost to the door before she realized that she still held the salt and pepper shakers. Setting them down on a random shelf, she rushed outside.

“Ol’ Baloo the pack mule reportin’ for duty,” Baloo said wearily, holding out his hand.

Breathlessly, Rebecca said, “You have to see this!”

“What? The darlingest set of toothpick holders?” Baloo said sarcastically.

“No.” Taking Deuseau by the arm and Baloo by the other, she dragged them inside. “This,” she said, pointing to where Hans and Baldrik had been standing.

The inspector and Baloo looked around the store, but there was nothing there besides cooking utensils. The store was silent except for the far-away scraping of metal against a whetstone.

“Madame?”

“What’s the deal, Becky?”

“B-but, but...there was a man here who looked just like you, Baloo. I saw him!” Rebecca scurried down the central aisle, peering around shelves and display cases.

“Mais there is no one here now.” Inspector Deuseau’s shrewd eyes coolly took in every aspect of the store.

Baloo followed Rebecca as she frantically looked under shelves, over display cases, around towers of baking pans, and through a row of cleavers danging from the ceiling. “Maybe you’ve been out in the sun too long, honey. Why don’t we go somewheres to cool down?”

“I amcool!” Rebecca said indignantly, whirling around. “And I know what I saw. You,” she jabbed him in the chest with her finger, “were outside,” she pointed to the window; “and there was a man over there who looked exactly like you,” she gestured towards the counter, “and he was talking to that butler...”

“Butler? What butler?” Baloo asked, scratching his head as he attempted to follow her train of thought.

“The one who tried to murder you when you were a baron.”

“H-H-Hans?” Baloo gave a nervous glance around the store, at all the dangerous, not to mention deadly, cutlery. His whole body tensed, as if he expected Hans and Helga to swoop out of thin air, bearing down upon him with their murderous weapons, as if he expected the floor to drop out from underneath him. Without further delay, he put his paws on Rebecca’s shoulders and steered her towards the door.

“Baloo, we can’t leave!” she protested, digging in her heels. “He’s here! The thief!”

“Good,” Baloo said quietly as he tightened his grip on her squirming shoulders. His vigilant eyes swept from side to side, expecting a surprise attack. “Let that brutal butler an’ his weirdo wife douse his lights, not ours. We

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