"Whoa, get back," whispered Quint. "Let's see where they're going." We watched intently as the men walked up the block and then crossed the street. "Looks like they're headed for the park," Quint said. "Let's go." I noticed that the police car had disappeared. Most likely, it had been there for some other reason. In any case, no police were following Red and Frank. It was up to us now. We headed up the block, sticking close to the buildings so that the thieves wouldn't see us if they turned around. Then we crossed into the park, as they had.

Central Park is a pretty amazing place. It's not just trees and grass. It's chock full of roller-skaters and joggers and bikers. Also kite-flyers, baby-stroller pushers, dog-walkers, and softball-players. Also — well, I could go on forever. Let's just say a lot of people are doing a lot of different things. Also, there are all these neat things to see, like the very place where we were entering the park. We walked beneath this big arbor, with trailing vines all over it. It was like walking into a fairy tale. And then there's Strawberry Fields. What is that? Well, it's a memorial for John Lennon. You know, the Beatle who died? People come from all over to see it. Part of it is this design in black-and-white stone that says "Imagine" in the middle of it. I was almost distracted by that, but Quint pulled on my arm. "Come on," he said. "We're going to lose them if we're not careful."

Luckily, Red's outstanding feature (his hair!) made him easy to spot. And since we were in the park, it wasn't hard to stay close behind

him and Frank and still stay hidden by trees and shrubs.

We were so close to them, in fact, that we could pick up bits of conversation now and then. We heard Red ask Frank if he had a cigarette. We heard Frank tell Red it was supposed to rain the next day. And we heard them talking about the Palm Court, which Quint told me is a restaurant at the Plaza Hotel.