“Oh-h!” Nina said. “A Thieves’ Market! I can’t wait to buy something!”
“Not so fast, Missy!” Mr. Curtin laughed. “I said we were going to look, not to buy. It’s still a crime to receive stolen goods.”
“But if it’s all right for the thieves to sell things,” Nina persisted, “it should be all right for me to buy them.”
“Not on your life! The authorities down here occasionally shut one eye to certain practices that help make a tourist attraction. But I don’t!”
“Then I’ll do it when you’re not looking,” Nina teased.
“And you’re not too big to be spanked if I catch you.”
The girls giggled at this exchange, and then Mr. Curtin went on:
“Seriously though, this market is a strange combination of fine legitimate shops and black-market operators. What say we go out to Veradero Beach this morning for a swim, and then take in the market this afternoon?”
The Thieves’ Market was a cobblestoned square, with an ancient stone fountain in the middle and shops and outdoor cafés on all four sides. A few men, most of them dressed in nondescript clothes, lounged in the doorways. Two or three small parties of American tourists sat at the café tables.
“Let’s sit down and order limeades,” Mr. Curtin suggested, “and see what happens.”