He put the minivan in drive, checked for traffic, then followed the tan Ford van down Castor Avenue. He tried to maintain a safe distance back. But not so far as to lose sight of the van.
The Ford van made the turn onto Erie Avenue, headed toward Broad Street. At Broad, it went south.
This is the way I just came, but backward.
About a mile later, he thought, Are they going where I think?
A block later, at Susquehanna, the van made a left, driving past the Temple Gas amp; Go and the adjoining Sudsie’s. At the next corner, which was North Park, it turned right.
Yes!
They are going to that Gas amp; Go!
And using the alley.
El Nariz knew that that alley gave access to both the Gas amp; Go’s back door and the loading dock of the laundromat. He also knew it was a dead end; the way in was the only way out.
He drove straight through the intersection where the van had turned right, then eased up to the curb and stopped. He put the minivan in park and adjusted the mirror on the windshield so that he could see the alley entrance behind him.
Fifteen minutes passed before the dirty tan Ford panel van came roaring out the alley. It made a right turn.
Damn!
Paco Esteban quickly put the minivan in drive and spun the steering wheel counterclockwise. He glanced over his shoulder as he started his U-turn. A blaring horn caused him to slam on the brakes. A pickup truck blew past, the driver angrily pumping his right fist at El Nariz.
El Nariz looked over his left shoulder again and hit the gas.
He made the turn onto Park, and as he passed the alley he saw the dirty tan Ford panel van far ahead. It approached the next intersection, which was Diamond Street, and went left.
El Nariz pressed harder on the accelerator, then braked heavily at the intersection. He blew through the stop sign, turning left onto Diamond. Then he smashed the accelerator, the aged minivan’s engine bucking.
Don’t quit on me.
A dozen blocks later, crossing Germantown Avenue, El Nariz could see he was closing fast on the Ford van. He eased up on the accelerator.
After another dozen or so blocks, the brake lights of the Ford van lit up for a moment. The van turned left in front of a small park.
As El Nariz followed, he saw that the street was marked HANCOCK.
The Ford van crossed over Susquehanna, then three blocks later its brake lights lit up. And stayed lit.
Paco Esteban saw that it had pulled to a stop along the right curb. A block back, he did the same. Then he watched as a Hispanic male jumped from the front passenger door, slammed it shut, and trotted across the street.
The man went to the gate of a wooden-slat fence that surrounded a lot next to an old row house. A heavy chain was looped
on the gate, with a lock on it. The man unlocked the gate, then slid it open.
Paco Esteban suddenly got a knot in his stomach.
The fence that Rosario described!
From his angle and distance, Paco Esteban could just make out that the lot was paved with gravel.
Another thing that Rosario described-tires on rocks!
The dirty tan Ford van then rolled through the open gate. The man swung the gate closed after it. Then it looked as if the chain was being locked on the inside of the enclosure.
Paco Esteban took his foot off the brake. The minivan rolled forward. He slowly drove up to the house.