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“Of course, Hobo. Of course.”

“And as you’re new, I’m gonna give you a tip: you’re lucky the capanga is shaftin the Candyman just now. But the Candyman ain’t gonna last forever. And you’re the new kid.” The Hobo looks up at the ceiling, sucks in air, purses his lips, pretends something is stuck between his teeth, removes it with his tongue. Diego capitulates, like he always does.

26“If you could give me a hand… I’d be grateful.”

“You don’t get nothin in here by being grateful, Sparrow. I already told you. Luck don’t come free. You gotta pay for it.”

The man shakes his head repeatedly, his hand moves towards his trouser pocket, he places a cigarette between his lips, holds a light to it, and all the time he is shaking his head.

“You gonna have to pay me, Sparrow.”

“I don’t have any dough. I gave what I had —”

“Don’t be an asshole. I told you nobody give you nothin for free in here.” Diego feels the fear taking hold of the muscles in his face, contorting it into a grimace.

“I don’t… I mean…”