"Wouldn't they be better off if they split up?" He thought, What're you gonna do? His little girl was preoccupied. She'd mention Buddy, but it was Foley she had on her mind. He said to her yeah, they'd have a better chance of making it if they split up. But if Buddy had something he wanted to do and needed Foley, and since Foley owed him.. .

Max von Sydow and Bedford are coming out of the house now.

Max turns to Bedford, who has just watched him commit a murder, and says, "Can I drop you?"

Coming into the room Karen said, "Three Days of the Condor, I love that movie. Do you know the title of the book it was based on?"

"Tell me."

"Six Days of the Condor. I spoke to Begina Mary. She has a very quiet voice-like this, barely above a whisper.

"Yes? May I help you?" E-n'n-cia ting so I think she was definitely a little ripped. I took a shot, I said, "Begina, this is Karen, Buddy's friend in Miami?" I said, "He told me where he'll be staying and I wrote down the address, but now I can't find it." I think it confused her. She said, "Oh," in that voice, "I don't have any idea." And I thought, well, that's it. But then she said-Karen dropped her voice, getting a hushed tone-"He called just a while ago to let me know he's all right."

I couldn't believe it. I said he only left last night and he's there already? She said, "Oh, no, he's in Lexington, Kentucky."

" Karen said to her dad,

"Are you ready? And then she said, "He won't be in Detroit till tomorrow."

" Her dad was smiling at her.

"Beautiful."

"I said, "Buddy's awfully thoughtful, isn't he, to call you." And you know what she said?

"He'd better, if he wants to save his immortal soul." What do you suppose that means?"

"Like she's his ticket to heaven," her dad said, "so he'd better keep in touch. Regina may be out of the habit, but still has a lot of old-time nun left in her. What else did she say?"

"That was about it. I asked if the next time Buddy calls she could find out where he's staying, maybe get the phone number.

She said it wasn't necessary for her to know that, he was on his honor to report to her."

"Well, nuns weren't all sweethearts," her dad said.

"Regina sounds like the kind, they'd make you hold your hand out and then whack it with a ruler. Hurt like hell."

Karen sipped her drink, quiet for several moments.

"You have to tell Burdon," her dad said, "and you'd rather not. Am I right?"

Karen looked up. She said, "The FBI has warrants right now for over six thousand fugitives. What do they need two more for?"

Her dad said, "You're kidding."

Karen sipped her drink.

Her dad said, "Aren't you?"

Sunday, it was halftime at the Super Bowl by the time Karen got home.

She saw her dad trying to act like it didn't bother him.

"I'm sorry I'm late. What's the score?"

Her dad, with his beer and a bowl of peanuts, said, "Thirteen to seven, Dallas. It's still a game, but not as close as it looks. The Cowboys had to lack a couple of field goals when they should've gone in."

"So they can't be acting too arrogant."

"Give 'em time."

Karen said, "I went to see Burdon."

Her dad turned his head to look at her now.

"He wasn't watching the game?"

"He wanted to, but had to get rid of me first." Karen started out of the room and stopped.

"Thirteen to seven, that's a total of only twenty so far. What's your bet, sixty?"

"Sixty-one, based on a final score of forty-four to seventeen, the Cowboys in control all the way."

"So they'll have to score thirty-one points for you in the second half."

"I'm not worried," her dad said.

"Last year, the 49ers and the San Diego Chargers scored a total of seventy-five points.

The year before, Dallas over Buffalo, they scored a total of sixty-nine. Where you going?"

"Get a beer. I'll be right back."

It gave her dad time to think about their bet. The sports book money line had the Dallas Cowboys favored over the Pittsburgh Steelers by 13V2. They both wanted the Steelers to win, so they were betting on the total number of points scored, whoever came closer, Karen with 45-she had to be dreaming-her dad 61.

If Karen won, she could pick out a pair of shoes at Joan amp; David. If her dad won, she had to come here for a week and cook dinner, all his favorites-pot roast, Swiss steak, chicken paprikash. Her dad told everybody he knew Karen cooked like a grandmother.

She came back with a long-neck Bud.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing, it's still the half. The experts are telling, us what we just saw." He waited for Karen to sit down on the sofa and then offered the peanuts.

"So you broke down and told Burdon they're in Detroit."

"Yeah, and he said, "You mean it's possible Buddy is." He's sure they've split up. Burdon's theory, Buddy knows Detroit, he used to live there, so he could've gone back to hide out. But look at Foley's record, the banks he's robbed by his own admission are all in the South, the Southwest and California."

"Burdon," her dad said, "is trying to watch the game while you're talking?"

"Standing at the door, he wouldn't let me in the house. We could hear the game… I asked if he'd send me to Detroit.

Absolutely not. Out of the question. For what? He's already put out an all-points, the Detroit office knows who to look for. I said all I want to do is give them a hand. I know the guys we're looking for better than anyone on the investigation. You could pass them on the street and not know them, but I would.

All you have to do is tell your office I'm coming."

"Meanwhile," her dad said, "dying to get back to the game"

"Right, he said okay to get rid of me. I leave in the morning, probably stay at the Westin."

Her dad was frowning a little, shaking his head.

"You report to the FBI office up there, you know how they'll treat you.

A girl walks in-she's gonna tell them how to find a couple of fugitives?"

"If I walk in," Karen said.

"I've been there, remember?

Twice I had to pick up prisoners."

"So they know you."

"Not the Bureau guys," Karen said, "the Detroit cops. I have a friend now in Major Crimes, an inspector, I know will help me out."

"Married?"

"They're all married."

They watched most of the Super Bowl at Galligan's, a bar on Jefferson that was a block from the Omni, where they were staying.

Foley had turned the game on in his room, Buddy brought a bottle of Jim Beam and they watched the first quarter from the chair and the bed until Foley said they should go to a bar, see the game with a crowd of people making some noise. So they walked to Galligan's, Foley hunching his shoulders in his new overcoat, and joined four other guys from out of town, stuck here over the weekend, and a woman who said she lived in Greektown but didn't look at all Greek. Blond, somewhere in her fifties. She said her name but Foley forgot it right away and she left at the half saying she had an appointment.

The only reason Foley and Buddy liked the Steelers was that they didn't like the show boating Cowboys, though they had little to strut about today. It wasn't much of a game. Final score, 27-17, Dallas.

Foley left the table to talk to the bartender.

Buddy ordered a couple more Jim Beams with a splash, for the road.

Foley came back and sat down.

"They have fights at Cobo Hall sometimes, the Palace, he says where the Pistons play, and the State Theater on Woodward Avenue. He says you can walk from here. He's never heard of Maurice Snoopy Miller. I asked him how come they don't have fights at Joe Louis Arena. He said they do, it's where the Wings play hockey. Then he said yeah, they've had title fights at the Joe, but no regular program. That's what they call it, the Joe."

"You know Louis is from here," Buddy said, "the old Brown Bomber. They have like a statue-it's just his right arm and the fist-out there on Jefferson."