Worst Fears Realized

that?”
    “Look, Captain, we think that Mitteldorfer has been involved in half a dozen murders since he got out.”
    Warkowski burst out laughing. “You’ve gotta be kidding! Herbie Mitteldorfer wouldn’t hurt a fly!”
    “He murdered his wife, didn’t he?”

    “That was a kind of temporary insanity; you can hardly blame the guy, in the circumstances.”
    “What circumstances?”
    “His wife was screwing half the men in New York.”
    “Anybody in particular?”
    “I don’t know the details,” Warkowski replied.
    “Look, Captain, this is a very serious matter. It wouldn’t look good for it to get into the papers that a serial killer performed personal services for officials at the prison.”
    “Are you threatening me?” Warkowski asked. “Because if you are, you’d better be able to back it up.”
    “I’m not threatening you; I’m just saying that we need your help in finding Mitteldorfer.”
    “What’s this ‘we’ stuff? You’re not a cop, and Bacchetti hasn’t asked for my help. If I get an official request from the NYPD, I’ll respond to it. I’ve got nothing at all to say to you, except that I have no knowledge of Mitteldorfer’s whereabouts. I will give you a piece of advice though: Herbert Mitteldorfer is a sweet guy, a decent man who deserves to be able to live out his life with some privacy I don’t believe he could ever be involved in killing anybody, and I’ll testify to that in court, if necessary.”
    Stone looked up and saw Mrs. Warkowski returning. He got up. “I’m sorry to have bothered you, Captain. I hope you don’t end up with blood on your hands.” He walked back to his own table.
    The main course had been served, and Stone sat down.

    “Another minute, and your food would have been cold,” Carolyn said.
    “Looks good,” Stone said, digging in.
    “Is everything all right?” Carolyn asked. “You look a little depressed.”
    “I’m fine,” Stone said. “I was just thinking about something back in New York. This is delicious food.”
    “Do you play golf?” David asked.
    “No, golf is difficult if you live in Manhattan.”
    “We’ve got a beautiful nine-hole course here. If you’d like to play sometime, let me know.”
    “Thanks, perhaps I will.” Stone looked up to see Warkowski and his wife leaving the restaurant.
    “Your friends didn’t seem to be here long enough for dinner,” Carolyn said.
    “I guess he lost his appetite,” Stone replied.

43
    STONE SLEPT WELL BUT WOKE UP DISORIENTED. He sat up and blinked, wondering where he was, but after a few seconds it came to him. He was in his new cottage, in Connecticut, and he needed pictures on the walls.
    He got up, showered, and made breakfast, missing the morningTimes. He looked at Carolyn Klemm’s list and found the delivery service. He’d have to arrange that and also subscribe to the local paper, theLitchfield County Times. Then Warkowski came back into his mind. He picked up the phone and called Dino.
    “Yeah?” Dino said sleepily.
    “Come on, Dino, it’s nearly nine o’clock; wake up,”
    “I’m awake,” Dino said. “You are one stupid son of a bitch, do you know that?”
    “What, I get up too early for you?”
    “I’m talking about Dolce.”

    “What about her?”
    “I warned you about her, but you just had to go and…”
    “Oh, come on, Dino; she seems like a nice enough girl.”
    “You’re way out of your depth there, pal, I’m telling you.”
    “Dino, she’s a beautiful, bright woman.”
    “She’s coming up there today, isn’t she?”
    “How do you know all this stuff?”
    “She has a sister; she talks to her.”
    “Oh.” He hadn’t, after all, asked her not to tell Mary Ann. “Listen, I ran into Warkowski at dinner last night.”
    “Père or fils?”
    “Père.”
    “You had dinner at Sing Sing?”
    “No, Warkowski and his wife were over here on what he called a weekend outing—the Mayflower Inn makes it a popular destination. We happened to be in the same restaurant.”
    “Great. What did he have for dinner?”
    “Dino, listen; you need to make an official request of Warkowski for information as to Mitteldorfer’s whereabouts.”
    “I’m not going to ask that bastard for anything. And what makes you think he would help?”
    “Even if he ignores you, the request will be on the record; you’ll have covered your ass.”
    “And it’s worth covering. You’re right; I’ll fax him. You talked to the guy?”
    “Yes, I asked him if he knew