Worst Fears Realized (Stone Barrington 5)

“Yes, but I’m not here in a legal capacity. I used to be a police officer; I arrested Herbert Mitteldorfer for his wife’s murder. At the time, we didn’t know with whom she’d been having an affair, so we didn’t talk to you.”

“Why now? Mitteldorfer’s in prison, isn’t he?”

“No.”

Palmer stopped chewing the bagel. “Then he must be dead.”

“No. He was released from prison recently.”

“Jesus Christ,” Palmer said. “I thought he went away for fife.”

“At the time, life didn’t necessarily mean life; there was no life sentence without the possibility of parole.”

Palmer put down the bagel and sipped his coffee; he

looked worried.

“Tell me, Mr. Palmer, did Herbert Mitteldorfer know with whom his wife was having the affair?”

Palmer swallowed hard. “I don’t know, for sure,” he said. “Arlene thought he was onto us, though. She didn’t know if he knew who I was. I was a client of the firm where he worked; I met her when she came into the office one day. It was the only time he saw us together, that I know of, and that was very casual. In fact, Herbie introduced us. Something passed between Arlene and me, though, and I waited outside for her. When she came down, I asked her out for a drink.”

“How long did it go on?”

“Four or five months, I guess; right up until she…died.”

“Did you ever write her any letters?”

“No.”

“Might she have had your business card?”

“No. If you’re screwing somebody else’s wife, you don’t give her things like that; you’re more careful.”

“Just how careful were you?”

“Very. I never went to her place, and she never came to mine. I had an office in the Schubert Building at the time, and she used to come up there. I had a little bedroom and a shower; I was living in Scarsdale, married, and I’d stay in town two or three nights a week.”

“Were you in love with her?”

“Not really. I liked her a lot, though; she was a nice girl in a bad marriage.”

“Was she in love with you?”

“She was in love with the idea of getting out of her marriage,” Palmer replied. “She knew I was married, but she knew mine was rocky, too, that I wanted out.”

“So she looked upon you as a way out?”

“Maybe, but I tried to discourage that. I knew that if I got a divorce, it was going to cost me most of what I had. I was right about that.”

“Did she talk about her marriage much?”

“Some; you know what women are like in those circumstances, don’t you?”

“Not really; tell me.”

“She’d complain about him, about how finicky he was about everything—their apartment, his clothes, her clothes. Apparently, he was very good with money, but she complained that she had no control over the money she’d brought to the marriage, which was considerable, I think. She was afraid that if she divorced him, she wouldn’t be able to get the money back, and it was all she had. Her parents were dead. That’s about all she ever told me about him.”

“Did she see a lawyer?”