Now, at 9 a.m., he was turning onto Farson Street, a treeless street of rowhouses. There he found the blue car, an old Buick LeSabre with the Pennsylvania license tag GRP1729, parked haphazardly.
He pulled up to block the Buick. Three boys tumbled out and sprinted away in a blur of fear and adrenaline.
De Coatsworth ran after them and yelled, "Stop!" They turned to face him. They were just kids, teenagers in school uniforms.
"You need to get back inside your car," he said.
Following his lead, they walked slowly toward the Buick and De Coatsworth, a lean 6-foot-1 with deep brown eyes and dark buzz-cut hair. He stayed in the road, walking backward, keeping an eye out in case they tried to throw drugs under a parked car or reach for a gun.
Alert, poised, anticipating, he took another step back. And another, reaching the car. Now, he told himself, pay attention. Where is that driver?
He turned his head, looked over his shoulder.
Meenhard Herlyn, a fit 65-year-old scientist with piercing blue eyes and thinning white hair, put his computer and office clothes in a backpack, checked the air in his tires, snapped on his helmet, and mounted his red Trek mountain bike.
He left his Wynnewood home and 10 minutes later crossed into Overbrook. As he enjoyed the peaceful ride past stone mansions with wide lawns, his mind wandered.
Herlyn leads a Wistar Institute team of molecular biologists who look for clues to understand, and possibly cure, melanoma. At 11 a.m., he was to meet a colleague from New York. He thought about the issues he wanted to discuss, his appointments later in the day.
