“Whoa!” Dan pulled up short and just in time. The path ended abruptly. He had nearly given himself — and Nannerl Mozart’s diary pages — an unexpected bath in dirty canal water. “What are we going to do?” Amy squeaked. They watched as a motor launch pulled alongside the small pier they were standing on and tied up to a pylon. A young woman jumped out and ran into the row house that abutted the dock. She was obviously on a quick errand because she left the keys in the ignition and the motor idling. Amy took in the inspired look on her brother’s face. “That’s stealing!” Dan was already stepping
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