Worst Fears Realized

“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 working outside the pen. When I got out, he had my assets transferred to my local bank. I don’t even know how he did it. He kept twenty-five percent of my profits for his fee.”

“Who else was he friendly with inside?” Stone asked.

“Friendly? He wasn’t friendly with anybody. I told you, he was a snob. I mean, he was polite, in his way, but he didn’t suffer fools gladly, not even Warkowski. He even had a cell to himself, the only guy I knew who did.”

Back in the car, Dino gave his driver another address. “All right, let’s go see Alesio,” he said.

“I have the feeling he’s not going to be any more help than Darcy was,” Stone said. “Mitteldorfer is far too smart to stay in touch with anybody he was in jail with. Anyway, I think Darcy’s comment about his being a snob is right on the money. He wouldn’t associate with ex-cons.”

“We’ve got to try,” Dino said.

Alesio turned out to be an elderly man, nearly seventy, Stone thought. They tried his apartment house and were referred to a senior citizens day center, where they found their man playing chess. He looked up at them and laughed.

“I’ve been expecting you,” he said.

“Oh? How’s that?” Dino replied.

“Ever since I saw Herbie’s picture in the paper. You’re never going to find him.”

“And why not?”

“Because he’s not stupid, that’s why I think-and this is only a guess; I don’t have any real knowledge of it-that Herbie already had himself set up as somebody else, even before he got out.”

“If you don’t have any knowledge of it, why do you think that?” Stone asked.

Alesio shrugged. “Herbie was like a good chess player,” he said. “He always thought several moves ahead. You could see it in the way he handled the prison staff. If he asked for something and didn’t get it, he’d have another request ready, and if he didn’t get that, he’d want something else, until finally, they gave him that. After a while, they just gave him whatever he wanted. After all, he was making money for them.”

They got back into the car.

“The precinct wants you,” Dino’s driver said to him.

Dino got on the phone. “When? Where?” He turned to Stone. “We’ve got him.” He went back to the phone. “Nobody, but nobody talks to him until I get there, which will be in twenty minutes.” He hung up.

“Mitteldorfer?” Stone asked.

“No, the other guy The picture in the paper worked; somebody called it in from a dry cleaners on Third Avenue.” Dino grinned. “He’s missing part of an ear.”

52

STONE AND DINO HURRIED INTO THE precinct and up the stairs to where the detective squad worked. Andy Anderson was using a computer terminal at a desk in the center of the room.

“Okay, Andy, tell me,” Dino said.

“The guy went to take some dry cleaning to a place on Third Avenue in the Seventies, and the manager recognized him from the picture in the Times and called it in. There was a black and white half a block away, and the two patrolmen jumped him as he left the place. He was carrying a 9mm automatic and a large switchblade, so we can hold him on weapons charges no matter what.”

“Where is he?”

“Cooling his heels in the lockup.”

“Set up interrogation one for video and audio,” Dino said.

“Already done.”

“Anybody read him his rights?”

“The two patrolmen.”

“Okay, you go in, read him his rights again, and tell him the interview is being recorded.”

“Uh, Lieutenant,” Anderson said hesitantly.

“What?”

“There may be a problem; he hasn’t spoken a word since he was picked up.”

“Is he a mute?”

“I don’t know.”

“Go do what I told you,” Dino said.

“Dino,” Stone said, “we need a lineup first.”

“I’ll get Mary Ann in here, and we’ll do that,” Dino replied.