‘Don’t knock it,’ says Zeb, then his eyes roll back in his head.

I wheel Zeb and his chair outside just as the ambulance pulls into the lot. A paramedic jumps out of the moving vehicle like he’s auditioning for Quentin Tarantino.

He grabs me by the forearm. ‘Did he take any drugs?’

‘Take your pick,’ I say, nodding towards the store’s sign.

The paramedic pokes around Zeb’s wound. ‘Is he allergic to anything?’

Zeb? Allergic to drugs? Funny.

‘Not so far.’

‘He’ll live,’ pronounces the paramedic after a cursory examination. ‘But it’s going to be a rough night.’

‘Good,’ I say, then go inside to get my boots.

Slotz is doing good business by the time I get back. Jason is parading the street, chatting with the university beer crowd.

‘Where you gonna go?’ he asks a group of guys sporting shorts and calf tattoos. ‘Every other street in this town is dead. You gotta curfew or something?’

He spots me shuffling down the sidewalk. ‘Hey, hey. Bossman. You all straight with Irish Mike? I was worried.’

I try to smile, but my jaw feels like there’s a steam iron inside it. ‘All sorted. He’s a sweetheart when you get to know him. What are you doing out here? Hustling?’

‘It’s a new day, Dan baby. New management is good for all of us.’

Management? I don’t like the sound of that.

‘I don’t know, Jase. Payrolls and overheads. Figures give me a headache.’

Jason flashes me his diamond grin. ‘You are such a pussy, dude. I can install some small-business software on your computer. That shit will take care of everything, even pay your taxes, you feel me?’

‘I feel you,’ I say gratefully, resisting an urge to add dawg. ‘What do you know about business software?’

‘I took a couple of semesters in Dover. Picked up a few things. We create a file for everyone and the computer can even print their paycheques if you want. We can use it for inventory too.’

I feel a weight lifting. ‘You are promoted to business manager, Jason. Get yourself a blue suit and take that diamond out of your tooth.’

‘I don’t do blue,’ says Jason. ‘And the diamond is me, man.’

‘You’re still hired. How soon can you get that software?’

‘Soon as now, Dan. All I need is the internet and ten minutes. Shit, I could probably download it on my phone.’

Some good news. I feel like crying.

Inside the club, nothing much has changed. I realise I was expecting something. Not bluebirds and fruit punch, but maybe a less oppressive atmosphere. No Vic cruising the floor throwing a jaundiced eye over everyone’s shoulder. No lights off over the back booth. But it’s same-old same-old. The atmosphere is fake-cheery and the girls are nothing but tired.

Marco is the only ray of hope, polishing glasses like they were diamonds.