12
Stan paid the cabby and joined Joe at the curb.
"What do you think they were doing over at that medical center?" Joe asked.
"Beats me."
They'd followed their guy and his woman over to the East Side, hung around First Avenue for what seemed like hours, then tailed them back here to their starting point.
"Think he's got cancer or something?"
Stan didn't remember a sign on the building that said anything about cancer. What was going on in Joe's head?
"How would I know? And what difference does it make?"
"Because if he's got the Big C, maybe we don't do him right away. Maybe we wait and watch him rot for a few months, then do him."
They stood way up toward Sixth near a framing place where they had a long view of the front of the apartment building. Their guy hadn't gone in yet. He hung outside the front door talking to his lady.
"That'd sort of be like putting him out of his misery, don't you think?"
Joe kept staring at their guy. "Maybe, but I don't want no lousy tumor putting him away. We gotta do that. We gotta be the ones that sign his death certificate. Ain't that right?"
Stan wondered if Joe meant 'death sentence' but didn't get to ask because suddenly Joe was grabbing his arm.
"Shit! What're they doin'? They're splittin'!"
Their guy had wrapped his arms around his girl in a clinch that had the look of a good-bye hug.
"Get moving!" Stan said. "Other side of the street. Follow him if he takes off."
Although he worried about Joe losing control while tailing this guy, he couldn't risk going himself. Stan still looked pretty much the same as he had two years ago. This guy would recognize him if he spotted him. Joe, with his extra forty pounds and semi-beard had a better chance of going unnoticed.
Joe was on his way. "What're you gonna do?" he said over his shoulder.
"Follow her inside. See where she lives."
"Excellent!"
Sure enough, the couple disengaged and their guy started walking away. Stan got moving, quick-walking along the street side of the parked cars as the woman turned toward the front door of the apartment building. She keyed the lock, pulled the door open, and stepped inside. Stan dodged to the sidewalk and dashed for the door, catching its edge with barely an inch to spare.
As he stepped into the vestibule he spotted the elevator standing open at the far end, but it was empty. Where the hell…?
Directly to his right he saw a door marked STAIRWAY swinging closed, and heard footfalls echoing. Keeping at least a flight between them, Stan followed her up to the third floor. As he stepped out into the hallway he spotted her to his left, moving. Stan turned right and ambled down the hall in the opposite direction. He fished in his pocket for his keys and dropped them on the carpet. While stooping to pick them up he watched her out of the corner of his eye, saw her disappear into a doorway.
When her door had closed, he reversed and hurried toward it.
Pleased, Stan headed back to the stairway.
Now we know where she lives, he thought. Let's hope that's where he lives too.