Women, death and Max, the Great Immoral good by chance and out of spite

“Why go straight when you can go the wrong way?” Everything Max Spindler in one sentence: Max with a pockmarked face, Max Polish and Argentinian, Max virtuous in the encirclement of minors, in the case of poor Rashka (“she was only a child, but he had dragged her through the mud”), a girl who is offered to him on a plate from a lifelong friend, Meir known as Sour Cream, the ras of Krochmalna street, Warsaw criminal always in possession of a certain viscous wisdom, ambiguous supplier of false documents and unscrupulous holy pimp, financier of hitmen and schools talmudic. Max, we said. Guilty of abandonment of the roof – of hotel – conjugal even if he is not married. Max who has lived for years an erotic, sentimental and professional partnership with Flora, a former actress from Warsaw and a series of things to be clarified, owner together with him, in Argentina, of a handbag shop that acts as a cover for intense traffic of little girls. Max never gangster to the end and yet Great Immoral, Max with drives for good but without success, a sincere but unprincipled aspirant. Like the patriarch Jacob, “ready for peace and for war”. Max gun always in his pocket, challenged by demons in Russian roulette.