They were in Arlene's kitchen. When Frears's back was turned, Kurtz said, "Arlene, you still have your" He opened his peacoat slightly to expose the pistol on his belt.
She shook her head. "It's at work, Joe. I don't keep one here."
Kurtz said to Frears, "Excuse us a moment," and led Arlene into her living room. He handed her Angelina Farino's gunnot the Compact Witness she had a sentimental thing for, but the little.45 he'd taken away from her at the hockey arena. Arlene slid the magazine out of the grip, made sure it was loaded, slapped the magazine back in, checked to make sure the safety was on, and slipped the small but heavy pistol into the pocket of her cardigan sweater. She nodded, and the two of them went back to the kitchen.
"I'm afraid this is going to be a terrible imposition," began Frears. "I'm perfectly capable of finding"
"We may find you another place after a day or two," said Kurtz. "But you saw the situation with Hansen/Millworth. Right now I think you'd be safer here."
Frears looked at Arlene. "Mrs. DeMarco Arlene this will bring danger into your home."
Arlene lit a cigarette. "Actually, John, it will bring a little much-needed excitement into my life."
"Call me if anything comes up," said Kurtz. He went out to his Volvo.
"Got him!" said Detective Myers. They had been headed down Union Road in Cheektowaga when they saw Kurtz's Volvo pull out of a side street and head north toward the Kensington Expressway.
Brubaker made a U-turn through a Dunkin' Donuts' parking lot and pulled the floral-delivery van into northbound traffic.
"Keep way back," said Myers.
"Don't fucking tell me how to tail someone, Tommy."
"Well, just don't fucking get made ," whined Myers.
"Kurtz doesn't know this van. We stay back, we got him."
Brubaker stayed back. Kurtz got onto the Kensington headed into town and the van followed six vehicles back.
"We should wait until he's into the city to take him," said Myers.
Brubaker nodded.
"Maybe near that flophouse hotel of his, if he's headed there. It would make sense that we'd have probable cause to roust him near there."
"Yeah," said Brubaker. "If he's headed to the hotel."
Kurtz was headed to the hotel. He parked in the crappy neighborhood nearby, and Brubaker drove the van a block farther and doubled back along side streets in time to see Kurtz locking his car and walking toward the Royal Delaware Arms. Brubaker parked the van in front of a hydrant. They could intercept Kurtz on foot before he got to the hotel. "We've fucking got him. You got your club and the throwdown?"
"Yeah, yeah," said Myers, anxiously patting his pockets. "Let's do this."
Kurtz had just turned the corner a block from the hotel. The two detectives jumped out of the van and began quick-walking to catch up. Brubaker pulled his Glock from its holster and carried it in his right hand. He clicked the safety off.
Myers's phone rang.
"Ignore it," said Brubaker.
"It might be important."
"Ignore it."
Myers ignored Brubaker instead. Answering the phone even as he ran, he said, "Yeah. Yeah? Yes, sir. Yes, but we're just going to no yeah no right." He folded the phone and stopped.
Brubaker whirled at him. "What? "
"It was Captain Mill worth. We're to drop the surveillance on Kurtz."
"Too fucking late !"
Myers shook his head. "Uh-uh. The captain says that we're to drop the surveillance and get the hell over to Elmwood Avenue to help Prdzywsky with a fresh street killing. We're finished with Kurtz his words."
"Fuck !" shouted Brubaker. An old woman in a black coat stopped to stare. Brubaker took three strides, rounded the corner, and looked at Kurtz approaching the hotel across the street. "We have the fucker."
"We go after him now, Millworth will have our balls for breakfast. He said not to mess with Kurtz. What's your hard-on for, Fred?"
Tell him about the money from Little Skag Farino? thought Brubaker. No . "That perp killed Jimmy Hathaway. And those Three Stooges from Attica, too."
"Bullshit," said Myers. He turned toward the van. "There's no proof for that and you know it."
Brubaker looked back toward the hotel and actually lifted his Glock as if he was going to shoot at Kurtz's retreating back a block away. "Fuck!" he said again.
Someone had been in Kurtz's room. Two of the tiny telltales on the door had been knocked free. Kurtz pulled his gun, unlocked the door, kicked it open, and went in fast Nothing. He kept the S&W in his hand as he checked both rooms and the fire escape. He didn't see anything out of place at first inspection, but someone had been in here.
A knife was gone. Just a sharp kitchen knife. Kurtz went over everything else, but except for the fact that his shaving kit and brush had been moved slightly in the bathroom and some books set back on the shelf not quite as he had left them, nothing else was missing or out of place.
Kurtz showered, shaved, combed his hair, and dressed in his best white shirt, conservative tie and dark suit. The black Bally dress shoes in the back of his closet needed only a buffing to be brought up to full shine. His trench coat hanging in the closet was old but well-made and clean. Slipping the.40 S&W into his belt and dropping Angelina's Compact Witness.45 into his coat pocket, he went out to the Volvo and drove to the Buffalo Athletic Club. On the way, he stopped at a Sees Candy, bought a medium-sized box of chocolates in a heart-shaped box, and tossed away most of the chocolates.