They slept on soiled, broken floorboards. They relieved themselves in a bucket. When Floyd got hungry or ran out of cigarettes, he sent his girlfriend out for a pack of Newports or chicken wings, Chinese takeout and other grub.

Although hundreds of law-enforcement officers up and down the East Coast mobilized to find him, Philadelphia's most-wanted man never left the city. He spent his days and nights in dark, dreary seclusion, in the company of his girlfriend, Tonya Lynne Stephens, a convicted hooker and drug addict who stood by her man despite a $150,000 reward on his head.

"My guess? Love," said Homicide Sgt. Bob Wilkins, speculating on why Stephens didn't rat out her beau of two months. "I wouldn't have loved anybody that much. I would have loved you right to the bank."

This was life on the lam for the last of three suspects in Saturday's slaying of Sgt. Stephen Liczbinski, gunned down when he stopped Floyd and accomplices Howard Cain and Levon T. Warner after they allegedly robbed a bank in a Port Richmond ShopRite.

And while a videotaped police beating of three suspects in an unrelated shooting brought the Police Department national notoriety this week, Floyd's takedown unfolded without drama. Police surprised the slumbering couple and arrested them without incident about 11:15 p.m. Wednesday, acting on a tip that they were in the home on Windsor Avenue near 54th.

"He was like a rat in a hole, and we found him," said Capt. Daniel Castro, incident commander.

By the end of the day, a judge ordered Floyd, 33, jailed without bail, and police charged Stephens, 37, of North Philadelphia, with obstruction of justice, hindering apprehension and conspiracy. Both confessed to their crimes, Sgt. Wilkins said.

Police expect to arrest two or three more people they say helped Floyd elude capture, including someone who took him into his home before he and Stephens squatted in the Windsor Avenue home.

In court records, Stephens has about eight aliases and at least nine arrests - most for prostitution, drug dealing and possession - dating back to 1989.

Known as a "crack whore" and a "bully," Stephens allegedly took other prostitutes' money at times in the Hunting Park neighborhood where they trolled along Old York Road, according to neighbors.

The light-skinned black woman, known to wear different wigs, sometimes stayed in a two-story house on Park Avenue near Butler.

Outside the house, a 51-year-old man said: "Ain't that much love in the world" to hide a suspect in a cop killing. "She don't know what she did."

Stephens' 41-year-old friend last heard from her late Saturday. "She was so distant, and funny [odd]. I didn't know why," said the woman, who declined to be identified.

After her arrest, the friend realized that Stephens must have been with Floyd, whom she "knew for awhile."

"Even if she was chilling in a spot, it's like hiding a fugitive . . . I wouldn't have done that sh--," she said.

"She's probably in a better place right now," said her friend, referring to jail. "You see the route she was going. She could be dead by now."

Authorities had hoped to collar Floyd before Liczbinski's funeral, slated for noon today. While somber at the prospect of burying a friend, many officers were jubilant at beating that self-imposed deadline.

"The game was up, and he knew it," said Wilkins, adding that he and most detectives on the case have put in 16- to 17-hour days since Saturday to find Floyd.

"It's a relief," agreed Commissioner Charles Ramsey, who visited the Homicide unit with Mayor Nutter after Floyd's arrest, staying until after 1:30 a.m. to thank detectives and their supervisors for their hard work.

On Windsor Avenue, the outlaw squatters went unnoticed by neighbors, who were roused from sleep when FBI agents, cops and a SWAT team swarmed their block.

After the hubbub abated, some were bewildered about how Floyd ended up on their street.

"This is a busy block, with kids and adults out in the street and on porches all day and night," said one neighbor, who asked for anonymity. "[Floyd] could have come out the house and started shooting at the kids. This is very scary."

Wilkins declined to say how Floyd picked his hideout. Police found no weapons inside, he added.

Many Windsor Avenue residents raged that they complained for years to city officials demanding that the blighted house be razed.

Gayle Johns, a spokeswoman for the city's Licenses & Inspections Department, said her office only has record of one complaint. In April 2006, L&I workers levied an "unsafe violation" against the property for a collapsing front-porch roof, Johns said. She wasn't sure if the owner fixed the problem.

City property records show that James P. Jones has owned the two-story, brown-brick rowhouse since April 1998. Jones couldn't be reached for comment. The property, valued at $25,100, has a delinquent tax bill of almost $2,750, according to records.

Mayoral spokesman Doug Oliver said that L&I workers are behind in inspections because the department is understaffed.

"We have wanted that house torn down for some time," one neighbor complained.

Instead, the rowhouse - located in the 12th Police District, the deadliest last year - became the ideal hideout for an accused cop killer and his loyal, unemployed girlfriend.

Yesterday, Castro recounted how the evening unfolded.

After getting tipped to Floyd's whereabouts, a cavalcade of city police, FBI agents and SWAT officers swarmed the property.

The officers used a crowbarlike tool to break in through the front door, and detonated a noise-flash-distraction device, which produces a loud bang to distract suspects as cops close in, Castro said.

SWAT officers found the couple in a second-floor front bedroom, where they'd been sleeping, Castro said. Officers then waited for someone to bring Liczbinski's handcuffs to restrain Floyd, fulfilling a tradition of using a slain officer's handcuffs on his accused killer.

Throughout, Floyd remained calm.

"Emotionless," Castro said. "He was cold. There was no reaction - I think because he's a monster. He's a menace to society. When someone kills a police officer, he has no regard for anyone. While he may not have physically pulled the trigger, he's clearly culpable for what happened."

An angry Nutter, who caught up with the suspect at police headquarters, confronted him to express his disgust.

"I wanted to see the person who had done this. There are moments when I am just Mike Nutter, and I wanted him to know I am disgusted with who he is and what he has done," said Nutter, adding that his contempt was returned with a blank stare.

City leaders applauded the anonymous tipster who led police to Floyd. The tipster may be eligible to collect the $150,000 reward if Floyd is convicted, city and police leaders agreed yesterday.

"This is a city famous for these "Don't Snitch" T-shirts," said state Sen. Anthony H. Williams, speaking at a morning news conference to announce a $5,000 donation that the Black Elected Officials gave to a fund for Liczbinski's family. "But people in these communities cannot be defined by headlines. Somebody had the courage to pick up the phone. For me, that's a beacon of hope." *

Staff writers Regina Medina, Catherine Lucey and David Gambacorta contributed to this report.