Chapter 13They’d finally decided to go out for breakfast in the gay village, instead of eating Wolfe’s stale bread and sharing the last egg in his fridge.
They sat on the terrace, in the warm sun, waiting for the waiter to stop by their table. As Gaspard perused the menu, someone accosted Wolfe again. This time, it was a woman carrying a cardboard box. She stopped by the terrace’s short fence, near their table. “Hey, you’re the guy who gave Diz a sleeping bag.”
Wolfe took a sip of his water. “Uh, yeah.”
“The cops were there again last week,” the woman said. She wore a loose purple T-shirt and her hair was matted. Her two front teeth, gone. “But Mario told me you told them you don’t mind the tents in the back stairs.”
“Well, the thing is, I’m not supposed to―”
“Yeah, I know ‘cause of f
