Curly watched some more TV, then took the subway uptown and walked down his block and past the building. Chico’s kitchen window opened onto the space below the stoop, and there was no flower pot there. He walked the block a couple of times, more to be sure there were no cops watching the place, then let himself into the building.

He took the elevator to the floor below his apartment, then walked up the stairs and listened at the hall door. He heard nothing, so he opened it and went to his apartment door. It hung slightly ajar, the doorjamb was splintered, where they had kicked it in. He listened again, then crept into the apartment.

It had been turned over, but nothing had been taken, as far as he could tell. He went into the kitchen and looked in the bucket under the sink, where he had hidden the paperwork he had used to raid Hayward’s bank account. It was still there, and he took it into the living room and shredded it in the small machine under his desk. He unplugged his small desktop computer and dropped it into his shoulder bag, then went through the apartment, taking some clothes and making sure there was nothing else in the apartment that would tell the police anything about him. He didn’t bother to wipe the place down for fingerprints, since they already knew who he was.

He left the apartment, leaving a fifty stuck in Chico’s door, and walked away from the building. A couple of blocks away he came to a construction Dumpster. He bashed the computer against the side of it and tossed the remains into the Dumpster, then went on his way, wondering why the cops hadn’t taken the computer. Maybe they just weren’t that interested. He still had his laptop in his bag, and it was easier to use when traveling.

He stopped in a candy store and bought the cheapest throwaway phone they had. He thought about calling Butch at work but figured he wouldn’t respond. He’d just have to keep their date. But he meant to be ready for it. Once Butch was out of the way, he’d head for Fort Lauderdale and start looking for Maria.

He’d been thinking about her a lot. He sat down on a bench at a bus stop and called her cell number. Probably, she’s already tossed it, he thought. To his surprise, she answered.

“Hello.”

“It’s Marv.”

“Oh, I’m so glad. I just tried to call you.”

“I already tossed the phone.”

“I’m sorry I walked out.”

“It’s okay, I understand. The cops came for me early in the morning, but I got a warning from the super and beat it out of there.”

“Are you all right?”