Worst Fears Realized

wife, like Mitteldorfer, but nearly twenty years ago.”
    “Let’s go,” Stone said, getting out of the car.
    It was a shoe-repair shop, larger than most, with seats for customers to try on their shoes or get them shined. Two men worked at machinery behind their counter.
    “Mr. Darcy?” Dino asked the older of the two.
    Darcy looked at both Dino and Stone before switching off the machine. “That’s right,” he replied. “What can I do for you?”

    Dino showed him a badge. “Is there someplace we can talk?”
    Darcy lifted a panel and beckoned them behind the counter. He led the way to an office so small that Stone had to lean against the door while Dino took the only chair. “Okay, what’s it about?” Darcy asked.
    “So,” Dino said, “how’s it going since you got out? How long has it been?”
    “Nine months, and it’s going okay,” Darcy said. “I didn’t know the NYPD did follow-ups to see if parolees are happy.”
    “Oh, we’re a very compassionate organization,” Dino said.
    “And I rate a visit from a lieutenant?”
    “We wouldn’t send out a patrolman to talk to a distinguished small businessman,” Dino said. He waved a hand. “This is your place?”
    “It is.”
    “Tell me, how’d you swing the capital to open up? This is a pretty good location.”
    “I wasn’t broke when I went in,” Darcy said. “I pleaded to the charge, so the lawyers didn’t take everything.”
    “How much did you have when you went in?” Dino asked.
    “Not a whole lot; a few thousand dollars and some personal property—car, furniture, like that. I sold all my stuff.”
    “And the money grew while you were inside?”
    “Yes.”
    “And Herbie Mitteldorfer was your investment advisor?”

    “He was helpful, yes.”
    “How did you meet Mitteldorfer?” Dino asked.
    “We had the same work assignment—same department, that is.”
    “What department?”
    “The prison office. Later, I ran the shoe shop; Herbie got me transferred.”
    “Herbie could do that?”
    “He wanted somebody with computer experience.”
    “Hewanted?”
    “Herbie sort of ran the office.”
    “Where’s Herbie now?”
    “I don’t have the slightest idea. I saw his picture in the paper; I don’t believe a word of it. Herbie would never hurt anybody.”
    “He killed his wife.”
    Darcy shrugged. “So did I, but I wouldn’t hurt anybody, either. You don’t know how crazy a wife can make you.”
    “When was the last time you talked to Mitteldorfer?” Stone asked.
    “The day I was released from prison.”
    “Darcy,” Dino said, “do you want to go back to Sing Sing? I can arrange it.”
    “I haven’t done anything to get sent back,” Darcy said.
    “I could arrange for you to do something.”
    “All right, I understand that you can do anything you want, but I’m telling you, I don’t have any information at all about Mitteldorfer. Herbie would never contact me, anyway.”
    “Why not?” Stone asked.

    “He considers me his social inferior,” Darcy said. “After all, I’m only a cobbler. Herbie would never mix with me; he’s a terrible snob.”
    “Then why did he help you invest your money?” Stone asked.
    “Because I paid him a percentage of my profits,” Darcy replied. “So did the others.”
    “Which others?”
    “There were half a dozen prisoners who had some money outside, that I knew about.”
    “Who were they?”
    Darcy counted them off on his fingers. “Middleton, Schwartz, Alesio, Warren, and me.”
    “That’s only five.”
    “Okay,about half a dozen. Plus the prison staff, of course.”
    “Of course. How many of them were there?”
    “Half a dozen, or so.”
    “Who’s out besides you and Alesio?” Stone asked.
    “Alesio’s out? I didn’t know. I guess we’re the only ones; the rest are still inside.”
    “You in touch with any of them?”
    “I’ve had a couple letters from Schwartz; he wants to go into business with me when he gets out next year.”
    “What has he said about Mitteldorfer?”
    “Only that he hasn’t heard a word from him since Herbie got out. According to Schwartz, Herbie went around and said goodbye to them and told each one that he wouldn’t be hearing from him again, that they were on their own. He told them they’d have to find a broker.”

    “Who had Mitteldorfer used for a broker?”
    “I’m not even sure he had one. He had some way of trading on the computer, I think; he could do it right from the prison office, but then he started