 |
| Level 5 | Level 6 | |||
| Level 8 | Level 9 | Level 10 | Level 11 | Level 12 |
| Home |
The Thief Lord
by
Cornelia Funke
Translation by Oliver Latsch
Victor leaned against his window and looked out through the dusty glass. Surely
no other place on earth was more proud of its beauty than Venice, and as he
watched its spires and domes, each caught the sun as if trying to outshine
one another. Whistling a tune, Victor turned away from the window and walked
over to his large mirror. Just the weather for trying out his new disguise,
he thought, as the sun warmed the back of his sturdy neck. He had bought this
new treasure only the previous day: an enormous mustache, so dark and bushy
that it would make any self-respecting walrus extremely jealous. He stuck
it carefully under his nose and stood on his toes to make himself taller.
He turned to the left, to the right, and became so engrossed in his reflection
that he only heard the footsteps on the stairs when they stopped outside his
door.
Clients. Blast! Why were they bothering him now of all times?
With a deep sigh he sat behind his desk. He heard
voices whispering outside his door. They were probably admiring his nameplate,
Victor thought, a handsome black shiny sign with his name engraved in gold
letters.
VICTOR GETZ
PRIVATE DETECTIVE
INVESTIGATIONS OF ANY KIND
It was written in three languages – after all, he often had clients
from abroad. Next to the sign was a knocker – a lion’s head with
a brass ring in its mouth, which Victor had polished just that morning.
| Home |