By Adriana V. López, Carmen Ospina (editors)
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Additional info for Barcelona Noir (Akashic Noir)
It whistled long, warning the crossing guard to put down the barrier, like he did each day. ” “He’s not doing anything. ” “Well, he hasn’t taken off his hat, and there’s the train. ” The man in the derby leaned against the car window, his pistol still on Tino, watching him with the serene eyes of someone who wishes no harm but is willing to follow through on his threats if he’s obliged to. The man in the felt hat ran in the direction of the crossing. The train cars were uncovered and carried five hundred workers toward the future, to build someone else’s future, but they were happy and excited now because it was a payday.
He lived on the second floor of a building on Venus Street, between Liberty and Danger. The Gràcia neighborhood maintained its ideology in its street names. Even today, just a bit further up, there’s still Fraternity Street, and Progress Street … The mechanic, Paco the Nut, came walking up the empty and badly lit cobblestone street from the garage where he kept his flamboyant taxi. He screamed, without consideration for the neighbors, who, because of the heat, probably couldn’t sleep anyway: “Tino!
It’s easy to get your bearings in this neighborhood, since every street and plaza still echoes with the noises and smells that distinguished each artisanal specialty. The streets are named after them. When thirty minutes are almost up, I hide in one of the nearby alleys. I know he’ll cross my path at Sombrerers, a narrow street by the Church of Santa María del Mar; where there are now art galleries, wine shops, and restaurants, there used to be, from the Middle Ages until not too long ago, men’s millinery shops.