Rio stepped back. “You’re in shape.”
“Nah.”
“Want to stay in shape, here’s my advice – never run a bar,” Rio said.
“Got ya.”
“Imagine you running a bar.”
“What’s so odd about that?”
Rio didn’t answer, just laughed another one of those boomers. He had a big belly and it shook; I always like the sight of that. And maybe because I was watching him, he suddenly noticed me, an interesting thing that happens sometimes with critters of all kinds.
“Hey,” he said. “Is this Chet?”
“How do you know about Chet?”
“Ratko Savic was in here last week.”
Ratko Savic? Hard to forget old Ratko, with his long drippy nose and his fondness for knife play.
“What’s he doing out?” Bernie said.
“Early parole,” said Rio. “Have to ask yourself what the world’s coming to when a menace like Ratko scores early parole. But nothing for you to worry about – he’s got a healthy respect for Chet, better believe it.”
“Did those skin grafts take?

(from TO FETCH A THIEF)