the smuggler’s bible


The boss wants something solid on the competition—something actionable. And that means the grunts are out on the prowl for two weeks, prying into every cranny west of Monument Street.

Sosimo leaves the muck work to the amateurs. He parks at the overlook and walks down the big flight of stairs to the diner on the square.

The waitress takes his coffee order and his twenty dollars. “Sure, maybe I heard something,” she says. “But why’d you ask me?”

“Sweetheart,” Sosimo says. “You must know something the rest of us don’t to put up with a job like this.”