“Hey, Tripulante, can I see you for a second?”
A young man who looked as if he came from good family arose and came over to Ortiz.
“Do you know a thug called El Bizco?”
“Yes, I believe I do.”
“Does he hang around this district?”
“No, not hereabouts.”
“Really?”
“He really doesn’t. He must be down below. You can take my word for that.”
“I do, man. Why not? Listen, Tripulante,” added Ortiz, seizing the youth by the arm. “Watch out, eh? You’ll slip, if you don’t.”