Chapters (75)
- Cover
- Contents
- Dedication
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- 20
- 21
- 22
- 23
- 24
- 25
- 26
- 27
- 28
- 29
- 30
- 31
- 32
- 33
- 34
- 35
- 36
- 37
- 38
- 39
- 40
- 41
- 42
- 43
- 44
- 45
- 46
- 47
- 48
- 49
- 50
- 51
- 52
- 53
- 54
- 55
- 56
- 57
- 58
- 59
- 60
- 61
- 62
- 63
- 64
- Acknowledgments
- “We Are Very Different People”:Stuart Woods on Stone Barrington
- Stone Barrington: The First Five
- About the Author
- Praise for Stuart Woods and
- Books by Stuart Woods
- Credits
- About the Publisher
She laughed again. “Not really. When I went out, I was always watched by somebody Papa sent. If I had let a boy make a wrong move, he would have gotten hurt, and I couldn’t have that on my conscience.”
“I’m glad to know you have a conscience.”
“Of course, I have a conscience!” she nearly yelled. “You think I’m like my grandfather?”
“I have very little idea of what you’re like, except in bed, and there you are spectacular.”
“A native talent,” she said, “like singing.”
“I believe you.” Stone set aside his breakfast tray and began leafing through the Times. He found it in the Metro section. “Here it is,” he said, showing Dolce the paper.
“That’s Mitteldorfer?”
“Yep.”
“He looks like such a little twerp.”
“He is, but he’s a dangerous one.”
“Where do you think he is?”
“My guess? Manhattan, somewhere on the East Side, living well. That’s why I’m hoping one of his new neighbors will recognize the picture.”
“Who’s the one in this drawing? He looks like Mitteldorfer.”
“That’s the drawing done from Mary Ann’s description of the man who attacked her. They really do look a lot alike, don’t they?” Stone stared at the two pictures. “Holy shit!”
“What?”
Stone picked up the bedside phone and called Dino.
“Hello?”
“I’m looking at the Times. You notice anything about Mitteldorfer’s photograph and the police sketch?”
“Sure, they look alike. Remember the guy who cut your neighbor’s throat? He looked like Mitteldorfer with hair. That’s why we checked to see if he had any kids, and we drew a blank; just a nephew, and he’s living in Germany.”
“Dino, if Mitteldorfer has another wife, as Arlene said he did, maybe he’s got a kid by her.”
“Ah, good point.”
“You have any luck on the marriage records?”
“Not yet. The computer records only go back a few years, but I’ve got a couple of rookies going through the old files, on microfilm.”
“That’s it, I know it is. If we can find the first Mrs. Mitteldorfer, then we can find her son, and then we’ll find Mitteldorfer. Why don’t you check everybody by that name in the state? Hell, in the country; it can’t be that common a name.”
“I’ll get my people on it first thing tomorrow morning. How was your dinner last night?”
“I’ll tell you later; call me if anything comes up. Oh, I almost forgot: how’d it go at the theater opening last night?”
“Zilch; nothing happened.”
“Maybe Mitteldorfer doesn’t know Palmer’s name.”
“That’s my guess. When are you coming back to town?”
“I’m not sure; I can’t go back to the house.”
“Okay, talk to you later.”
Stone hung up. “I don’t suppose you’ve had any results yet from your inquiries at Sing Sing?”