“Yeah,” Joe said, “but how do we know if that’s where he lives? Maybe he’s just visiting.”
Stan Kozlowski chewed the inner surface of his cheek as he stared at the ornate apartment building on West Twenty-seventh. This had to be the sixth time Joe had asked that same question, and Stan was just as much at a loss for an answer now as the first time.
They’d followed their guy here after Riverside Park. Not so hard. He hadn’t seemed to be on the lookout for a tail, but they’d taken every precaution, giving him so long a lead one time they almost lost him. They’d seen him go into this building. Since they couldn’t follow him inside, they’d found a shady spot on the same side of the street and kept watch on the entrance.
“Only one way to find out,” Stan told him. “Tail him everywhere he goes, and wherever he keeps coming back to, wherever he spends the night, that’s where he lives.”
“You hope.”
“Since we don’t know his name or anything about him—”
“We got that whisper that his name might be Jack.”
“A ‘might-be’ doesn’t help us. And Jack isn’t exactly a rare name. Don’t see how we’ve got much choice except to watch and wait.”
“I can’t wait, Stan. Been waitin’ too long already.”
“Just hang in there, Joe. A week ago we had no hope of ever seeing this guy again. Now we’ve got him in our sights.”
“Ka-pow!” Joe said, grinning.
“Ka-pow is right. We—hey, isn’t that him?”
Yes. Definitely him. And he wasn’t alone. He had his arm around a blonde.
“Shit,” Joe said softly as they pressed back against a wall. “He’s got a babe. Ain’t that sweet.”
“If she’s a live-in, bro, we may have found his crib. But let’s keep on him, just to be sure.”
“Oh, yeah,” Joe said, grinning as he rubbed his scarred hand with his good one. “ ’Cause we want to be sure.”
Stan watched the couple turn and head for Sixth Avenue. This was kind of fun. And the best part was that he hadn’t seen Joe enjoying himself this much in years.