He knows he’s being followed by the cops. He knows they’re keeping an eye on him. He saw them when he was leaving his parents’ house. And he’s seen them outside his new room. Young guys. Inexperienced. He figures he can shake them when the time comes but he figures he might have only one chance to do it so he’ll have to save it and live with the tail until then.

He’ll have to shake them to do the job for Karloff. On the other hand, he could purposely not shake them so that he can’t pull off Karloff’s job.

Who’s he kidding? Karloff knows Joey’s being followed by the cops with such a high-profile re-prosecution pending, and Will or someone else who works for Karloff will help him shake the tail when the time comes. For all Joey knows, Karloff himself has the power to temporarily get rid of the tail. To put in a call to corrupt cops on the inside who will find some way to divert the tail, leaving Joey clear for the few hours he needs to pull it off.

If the cops are following him, he also figures they’re probably protecting Zack and Emily and Steve. So he can’t take his last weeks before the Karloff job to terrorize Zack and Emily and Steve—terrorize or worse—although he finds himself thinking about it more and more in these days of wandering. A chance to prove himself to Karloff—and to himself. Define himself. Take care of unfinished business.

But he’s been warned about that.

“You’re gonna lie low, right, Joey?” Karloff had said. Joey had nodded yes obediently.

“You’re not gonna try something foolish?” Karloff had asked. Warning him. “Foolish is what got you in trouble last time. And put all of us in trouble. And we’re not going to tolerate stupid and foolish again from you, capisce?”

Joey nodded.

So now he wanders around the city.

A death sentence stroll.

41.

41.

Joey is spending down the three grand, coffee by sandwich by subway ride. He could probably shake the tail on the subway but that’s just the ones he’s spotted. There might be others.

He wanders the city, waiting.

The city, it seems, ignores him.

His wandering takes him—unconsciously? magnetically? inevitably?—back to a certain GreenGirl. He knows this might alarm the tail, although he bets they probably don’t know the whole history of his case. To them it’s just another GreenGirl, and there’s nothing wrong with him going back there; it’s not the scene of the crime. Just a couple of drowned cell phones, by mutual agreement. A mutual agreement he just couldn’t leave alone, he thinks again regretfully.

Hey, maybe he’ll have a coffee. For old times’ sake.