The Convert's Song

Начало книги

Raymond said tonight was the night.

Raymond said tonight they would make their move. Hit the big time.

Raymond said he kinda hated to bring this up, but he was a little disappointed in Valentín. Felt like he had been fading on him. Making lame excuses: his job, his high-maintenance girlfriend, his folks bitching at him. Raymond felt like maybe Valentín didn’t want to make money anymore. Like he was scared. But down deep, he knew Valentín had heart. They were cuates from way back. Tonight was major. Step up, homes. Don’t punk out on me now.

Basically, Raymond had talked the usual bullshit.

But if he said he needed backup, he probably meant it.

Valentín ate an Italian beef special at the counter of the sandwich shop, careful to keep the grease off his leather jacket. The sun set on the November streetscape: three-story brick walk-ups behind wrought-iron fences. The Italian-ice stand-red, white and green, draped with decorative lights-closed until May. The grocery across the street where, as a boy, Valentín had accompanied his father on Saturday pilgrimages to Benny the Butcher.

Читать дальше →