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The thing was, being on the Major Family's payroll was not, exactly, all it was cracked up to be.
Sure, you were safe from petty crime because no-one wanted to fuck with someone with ties to the Family, and there was job security (if you ignored the fact there was job security because they didn't want people who knew their secrets to leave); but there were so many days when that just did not seem worth it.
If Sajja didn't have a sick aunt to look after and an ailing father, he probably would have found something that wouldn't land him in jail, or dead; but a teacher's salary wasn't enough, and his cousin had said he'd be good at this…and he was. That cousin was dead, the one who'd brought him in, but he was, in his aunt's words, "a useless weed" and Sajja couldn't agree more. If he hadn't got himself killed by a rival gang, he'd have been killed by the Family for accidentally sharing secrets, Sajja had no doubt.
He wasn't sure when he'd started tallying up all of the things he didn't think he should have to deal with, and he hated that he even thought about them, because he knew there were so many people who were worse off than he was.
Except then things like this Thursday right in front of him happened, and he reassessed his thoughts for the fifth time that week.
He walked around the side of the building to find an absolutely insane picture of arterial spray – several, if he was any judge (and he was after all these years). He really wished some of the younger family members would actually use the guns he knew they were proficient with. He'd taught some of them himself.
Just once, just once a straight-edged razor was not a good weapon. If it was improvised, if you were in the middle of a fight, if you were in a hospital, but not here! Not outside! Not when there were clearly other options!
Sajja deliberated whether or not he would get fired (or worse) for letting the rain wash the blood from the building, but he knew it was unlikely. He really was very good at his job.
He stared up at the September sky, the rainy season in full swing, knowing that evidence of whatever this was would be removed swiftly and it was very unlikely anything would be left.
"You'd think the Mafia would pay better than this." He muttered, as he walked away.
He knew he'd find something else that needed fixing in about two minutes time.
The compound was like that.