“I’m surprised that you would so quickly lose contact with him. After all, you were pretty close, weren’t you?”
“Not really; in my work, you don’t get close to prisoners.”
“That’s what I would have thought, but it’s my information that Mitteldorfer handled all your financial affairs for several years.”
Warkowski looked at him sharply. “Where the hell did you hear 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