Sana came up behind him and peered over his shoulder. “Did you get everything we need?”

“I did. Here’s my Vatican picture ID,” Shawn said, handing her the laminated card.

“This picture looks like a mug shot,” Sana joked.

“Okay, enough teasing,” Shawn joked back, snatching the photo from her hands. In its place he handed her the access permit to the Vatican’s necropolis, the Scavi, meaning “excavation” in Italian. It was a very formal document, complete with the official seal of the Pontifical Commission for Sacred Archaeology. “This is what is going to get us past the Swiss Guards tonight.”

“I’m impressed,” Sana said, handing the paper back. “Things seem to be falling into place. What about the keys?”

Shawn held them up and jangled them before pocketing them along with the ID card and the access permit.

“Looks like we are in business.”

A few minutes later, Shawn and Sana headed down to the concierge’s desk and asked where they could get a quick bite.

“Caffè Greco,” one of the two concierges said without hesitation, the other concierge nodding in full agreement. “It’s just down the steps and straight on Via Condotti. It’s on the right.”

“Can you also tell me where I can find a hardware store?” Shawn asked.

The concierges eyed each other quizzically. This was a first.

After some charades and a quick dictionary consult, Shawn and Sana were directed to a nearby ferramenta called Gino’s on the Via del Babuino.

With map in hand and two hotel umbrellas, the couple first went to Caffè Greco, where they made short work of lunch. Next they used the hotel’s map to seek out Gino’s ferramenta shop, which was, as the concierges promised, a short walk up Via del Babuino. As they approached the shop, the dusty window display of tools and housewares appeared as if it hadn’t been changed in years. When the door closed behind them, they were instantly enveloped in a palpable silence. The interior was as dusty as the window display. At the register were a half-dozen customers patiently and noiselessly waiting for service. A lone employee scanned a thick catalog.

Shawn and Sana were taken aback by the silence. It was heavy, like a church. What minimal sound there was seemed to be dampened by the plethora of merchandise, much of which was stacked in variously sized cardboard boxes. A black-and-white cat slept curled up on a humidifier carton. The atmosphere was a far cry from the hardware stores Shawn remembered from his youth growing up in the American Midwest. There, hardware stores were usually busy and loud, as much a hangout as a place to buy hardware.

Shawn motioned for Sana to follow him into the depths of the store. “Let’s do our shopping ourselves,” he whispered.

“Why are you whispering?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered back, but then in a normal voice said, “It’s ridiculous to be whispering. I suppose I was just following the old adage: When in Rome, do as the Romans do.”