“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 where Mitteldorfer was, and he said no. He was unhelpful, but he said if you sent him an official request, he’d respond.”

“Yeah, I know what his response will be. What else did you tell him?”

“That I knew Mitteldorfer had done his investing for him.”

“Did he deny it?”

“No, but he didn’t confirm it, either.”

“Well, let’s see what you accomplished, then: first, now Warkowski knows everything we know, right? Second, in the event that Warkowski does know where Mitteldorfer is and is communicating with him, now Mitteldorfer knows we’re looking for him.”

“He’ll know that when the Times story comes out. But you’re right; I shouldn’t have told Warkowski that we knew about the investing. I thought it might help his memory, but it didn’t.”

“Something else, kiddo: if he does talk to Mitteldorfer, he’s going to tell him that you’re in Washington, Connecticut, and I thought you didn’t want him to know that.”

Stone winced. “Okay, I was stupid.”

“I believe I mentioned that earlier in our conversation.”

“Don’t rub it in.”

“Mitteldorfer is going to rub it in, if he finds out where you are. You’d better watch your ass.”

“I will, but Warkowski doesn’t know I have a house here; for all he knows, I’m just visiting for the weekend, as he is.”

“I hope you’re right, pal. And I hope you survive the weekend with Dolce.”

“Is there anything else I need to know about her?”

“I told you all you had to know to avoid trouble; the rest, you’re just going to have to learn for yourself.”

“Okay, Dino; I’ll talk to you later.”

“Good luck, Stone; you’re going to need it.”

Stone called about the newspapers, then got dressed and drove down to the Depot. He went into the Washington Supply, the hardware store, and bought a toolbox and an assortment of tools for the house.

“Guess you’re Stone Barrington,” the man at the counter said.