On the brownstone's porch waited a pair of razorguys in studded blue synthleather. They were prime cutters, chromed to the max and willing to prove it. Rico knew that for a fact, he could have guessed it at a glance. The cutters held themselves like real gillettes, like they had whatever it might take to meet." any challenge from the street. They watched Rico start up the steps with what looked like casual indifference, but as he reached the porch, they stepped into his path-no hesitation, no doubt about what they were doing.