Excerpt from:
    
A Champion Sprinter's Dash through Town

 


          This forty-five year-old hood also had a human side. The portion of his face, located between his eyebrows and his mustache would light up in friendly pose, it would gain a reddish glow and his eyes would glisten straight at his conversationalist. It happened when he took a liking to a person, or when he tried to exercise his charm during negotiations, or when a generous streak suddenly hit him. Bartzi was moody, but not unreasonable. His business was crime and his traditional adversaries were the authorities, all authorities.
          Recently though, he found himself in a bind. The authorities had completely taken over the business of crime and on a scale and manner impossible to imagine.

 


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