“You are a very wise young lady, Miss Barr,” Quayle said, knocking out the ashes of his pipe into a tray on his desk. “And you’re a good detective too. You have good instincts. And good hunches.”
He got up from his chair.
“Let’s keep this meeting a secret between you and me. You’ve given me some ideas that I’m going to look into. Meanwhile, continue to keep your eyes open. And don’t hesitate to come straight to me with any other notions that may occur to you.” He smiled his quiet, friendly smile. “As I said, you’re a pretty good detective.”
Curiously enough, Vicki was back in Ybor City that night, having dinner with the Curtins. This time they ate in a restaurant called the Spanish Park. It was very much like the Granada, Vicki thought, with archways, tiled floors and walls, potted palms and tinkling fountain.
Dinner began with an assortment of fruits and a spicy Spanish bean soup called Sopa de Garbanzo. Mr. Curtin told her that this soup was the speciality of Ybor City and that it was served free at street booths all during Festival Week. She remembered seeing the soup booths on the sidewalks that afternoon.
The dinner continued with Cuban bread baked in a banana leaf; then chicken cooked with yellow rice and a whole assortment of spicy vegetables. It was topped off by coconut ice cream served in a coconut shell.
As she ate, Vicki looked around at the people in the restaurant. They seemed to represent about the same cross-section of Americans and Spanish-Americans she had seen in the Granada at noon. A small orchestra played soft Spanish music. It had a violinist, but he was a short, fat man wearing Spanish clothes. She wondered what Mr. Tytell was doing. Then she shook these thoughts out of her head. She had told her suspicions to the FBI. That was all she could do at the moment. Mr. Curtin was telling a joke, and she joined in the laughter.
When they left the restaurant, the air of Ybor City was full of the Pirate Festival. A peddler offered a tray of the souvenirs Vicki had seen that afternoon—small pirate ships, pistols, cutlasses, and pirate figurines, all made of bright coppery-gold metal. Mr. Curtin bought one of each. “For little Ed Ernest, the boy next door,” he explained.
“You will be back in Tampa for the torchlight parade on Thursday night, won’t you, Vicki?” Louise asked.