“If we lose him, I’m going to be royally pissed,” Curt groused.

“I bet he’s heading for the park,” Steve said. “He probably lives on the Upper West Side.”

“You could be right,” Curt said. “And what are we going to do if he does go into the park?”

“Follow him!” Steve said. “Provided we see where he goes in. We can always have one of the boys snatch someone’s bicycle. The park is always filled with bikes.” Steve swung around to look into the depths of the van. The wild ride had quieted the troops.

“Who’s in the best shape to ride a bike?” Steve demanded.

The troops all pointed to Kevin.

“Is that right, Kevin?” Steve asked.

“I guess,” Kevin said. “I’m in pretty good shape.”

The light changed and Curt rocketed ahead. Steve turned forward and grabbed what he could to hold on.

At Madison the light was in their favor, and Curt made a rapid turn. The pipe lengths all rolled to one side amid swearing from the troops. Curt had to stop behind traffic waiting at the light at Fifty-second Street.

“I think I see him at the next light,” Steve said.

“I believe you’re right,” Curt said. “Between the bus and the oil truck. Jeez, the guy’s fearless.”

The light changed and they were off.

“What should I do?” Curt said desperately. “We’re not going to catch him with this kind of traffic on Madison Avenue.”

“We do have his home number,” Steve said. “Maybe we should wait and call him at home and try to get him to give us the address. One of us could say we were Yuri Davydov. Hell, maybe he’d come see us.”

“That’s an idea,” Curt agreed. “But what do you think we should do now?”

“Let’s head for the corner of Fifth Avenue and Central Park South,” Steve suggested. “If he does go into the park, that’s where it will be.”

“Well, it’s as good an idea as any other,” Curt said. He wasn’t happy.

They traveled north as fast as the traffic could allow. At least they were making the lights, but they knew Jack was as well. As they streaked across Fifty-seventh Street Steve happened to catch sight of Jack traveling west.

“Shit!” Curt exclaimed. The sighting had been too late to make the turn.

“I think it’s okay,” Steve said. “Keep going the way we are. Let’s give Fifth and Central Park West a try.”

The first street they could turn left on was Sixtieth, which was just as well. It led them to the northern part of Grand Army Plaza, where it joined the park. Curt crossed Fifth Avenue with the light and pulled over to the side of the road. He stopped by wooden police barricades blocking vehicular traffic from entering one of the park’s drives.