Worst Fears Realized

Stone had to restrain himself from joining him. “I think you could say I have an iron-clad alibi,” he replied.
    “Yeah? Alibi for what?”
    “You tell me; I’ve no idea why you’re here.”
    “Tell me about your day yesterday.”
    “Easy question. I rose at six, showered and breakfasted, then went to work. I broke forty-five minutes for lunch, then returned to work. I finished work at four-thirty, then wrote some letters and watched TV until dinner at six. After dinner I went to the library and read for two hours, then I returned to my cell and read myself to sleep.”
    “Did you run any errands outside the prison yesterday?” Dino asked.
    “Asked and answered,” Mitteldorfer replied.
    “You’ve been here how long?”
    “Just finished my twelfth year.”
    “So you’ll have a parole hearing coming up soon?”
    “Yes.”
    “Well, unless you’d like me to show up at your hearing and tell the board what a dangerous little shit you still are, you’d better start answering my questions with a little more feeling.”

    “I apologize,” Mitteldorfer replied, chastened. “I’ll be happy to answer anything you’d like to ask.”
    “How often do you leave the prison?”
    “Once or twice a week, depending on what errands have to be run.”
    “What sort of errands do you run?”
    “I buy stationery and office supplies; I go to the computer store; sometimes I’m allowed to do some personal shopping.”
    “What sort of personal shopping?”
    “I buy underwear and socks, batteries for my portable radio, a new toothbrush. Sometimes I’ll have an ice-cream cone; they don’t serve Häagen-Dazs in here.”
    “Do you have a son?”
    “No.”
    “Any male relatives who are younger than you?”
    “No, not in this country.”
    “Where else?”
    “In Germany; I have a nephew, my sister’s son.”
    “What’s his age?”
    “Oh, mid-thirties, I suppose. I only met him once, when he was a teenager, when I visited her.”
    “What’s his name?”
    “Ernst Hausman.”
    “Has he ever been to this country?”
    “No. I hear from my sister several times a year; I think she’d have told me if he came here.”
    “Where does he live?”
    “In Hamburg. I don’t have his address. He works at a cigarette factory, I believe.”
    “Social work, huh? Helping out his fellow man.”

    Mitteldorfer shrugged. “He doesn’t have my conscience.”
    “Stone, you got any questions?”
    “Mr. Mitteldorfer,” Stone said, “do you have any regular correspondents besides your sister?”
    Mitteldorfer hesitated for a moment. “There’s a woman I once worked with,” he said finally. “We write from time to time.”
    “Anyone else?”
    “No.”
    “Do you have any regular visitors?”
    “Just the woman,” he replied.
    “What is her name?”
    “I do hope you won’t drag her into whatever this is about,” Mitteldorfer said, pleading in his voice.
    “What is her name?” Dino demanded.
    “Eloise Enzberg,” he replied softly.
    “She live in the city?”
    “Yes.”
    “Where?”
    He gave Dino an address in the East Eighties. “I hope you won’t find it necessary to visit her. She’s a very proper sort of person, and she would be shocked if the police knocked on her door.”
    “What sort of work do you do here?” Stone asked.
    “I’m the office manager,” Mitteldorfer said. “I oversee the prison bookkeeping, and I hire and train other prisoners to do office work.”
    Dino broke in. “Have you cut anybody’s throat lately, Herbert?”
    Mitteldorfer looked horrified. “Please. I think you’re aware that my crime was one of passion. I’mnot the sort of person ever to repeat it.”
    “Does Ms. Enzberg know what you’re in here for?” Dino asked.
    “Yes, she does. She read about it in the papers when you arrested me, and after the trial she wrote to me.”
    Stone was becoming uncomfortable with this. Mitteldorfer was a mild little man, much different than Stone remembered. He seemed to have served his time well, and there was no point in persecuting him. “That’s it for me, Dino,” he said. “You ready to go?”
    Dino ignored him. “Something I remember about you, now, Herbert,” he said. “You enjoyed killing your wife, didn’t you? She was fucking somebody else, and when you found out about it, you took pleasure in cutting her throat, didn’t you?”
    Mitteldorfer looked at the tabletop. “Please,” he said.
    “Let’s go, Dino,” Stone said.
    “All right, get out of