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“Yes.”

“Does he know this interview is being recorded?”

“I’ve told him; I don’t know if he understood me.”

Dino turned to the man. “Can you hear me?”

The man nodded.

“Do you understand English?”

He nodded.

“What’s your name?”

The man sat impassively, not moving.

“You run his prints, yet?” Dino asked Anderson.

“Yes; no results yet.”

“You know,” Dino said to the suspect, “we’ll know who you are as soon as your fingerprints come back.”

The man motioned for something to write with.

Anderson shoved a legal pad and a ballpoint across the table.

“You’d rather write your answers?” Dino asked.

The man nodded.

“Okay, what’s your name and address?”

The man sat motionless.

“I’ll go check on the prints,” Anderson said, then left the room.

Dino sat, looking at his suspect. “Why did you kill those people?” he asked suddenly.

The man began to write. He turned the pad so that Dino could read it.

“It seemed a good idea at the time?”

The man nodded vigorously.

Anderson came back and sat down. When Dino looked at him, he shook his head.

“Nothing?” Dino asked.

Anderson shook his head again.

Dino turned back to his suspect. “Write down the names of the people you killed.”

The man began writing, then turned the pad around.

Dino read aloud. “Three women, doorman, cop, lawyer.”

“How did you kill the three women?” Dino asked.

The man made a motion as if to hit himself on the head, then drew a finger across his throat.

Stone held up four fingers, behind the man, so that he wouldn’t see.

“There were four women,” Dino said. “How’d you kill the other one?”

The man made the hitting-on-the-head motion again.

Dino shook his head.

Stone suddenly had an idea. “Herr ober!” he said sharply.

The man’s head snapped around in Stone’s direction.

“We know about your German accent,” Stone said. “There’s no reason not to speak.”

The man thought about that for a moment. “Ach,” he said softly.

53

THEY ALL SAT STILL, SAYING NOTHING FOR a long moment. Then Dino seemed to realize that the man was speaking, and that, moreover, he was talking.

Stone got out the first question. “Herr Mitteldorfer?” he said.

The man looked at him and laughed. “Nein,” he replied. “Sprechen Sie Deutsch?

“Not really,” Stone said. “Your name is Mitteldorfer, though, isn’t it?”

“No,” the man replied.

“Then what is your name?”

“You are not needing to know,” he said. His accent was thickly German.

“But you are his son, aren’t you?”

The man smiled but said nothing.

Dino took charge; he shoved the pad back to the suspect. “Write down the names of the people you killed.”

“I am not knowing all these names.”

“Write down the ones you know.”

The man began writing, then stopped and read aloud from the pad. “The secretary – I am not knowing the name; the Hirsch lady, naked with the machine – ah, the cleaner.”

“The vacuum cleaner,” Dino said.

Ja. Yes.” He continued. “Fräulein Enzberg; the man of the door on Fifth Avenue and the policeman; and the lawyer, Herr Goldschmidt.”

“Goldsmith.”

“Yes.”

“Why did you kill Fraulein Enzberg?”

The man shrugged.

“Surely, she was Mitteldorfer’s friend; why would he want her dead?”

“Who is this Mitteldorfer you keep saying?” the man asked, smiling a little.

“You know perfectly well who he is,” Dino said.

“He’s your father,” Stone interjected.

“I am orphan,” the man said, smiling.

There was another German name Stone could try, but he couldn’t remember it.

Andy Anderson spoke up. “Why did you kill Susan Bean?” he asked.

The man looked genuinely puzzled. “Bean? This is a person?”

“The woman in the penthouse apartment in the East Sixties,” Anderson said. “You followed Mr. Barrington there and killed her when he went out. Why did you kill her?”

“I am not knowing about this,” the man said.

Stone remembered the name. “Herr Hausman,” he said, “are you telling us you don’t know who Susan Bean is?”

The man turned and looked at Stone, exasperated. “I am not knowing…”

He stopped.

“Hausman is your name, isn’t it?” Stone asked.

The man shrugged.

“Your Christian name is Ernst, isn’t it?”

The man laughed.

“I got it,” Dino said. “The nephew in Hamburg, the one who works at the cigarette factory.”

The suspect shook his head. “No,” he said. “Ernst is being in Hamburg still.”

“And your mother is still in Hamburg, isn’t she?” Stone asked.

The man turned and glared at Stone but said nothing.

“Let’s get back to Susan Bean,” Anderson said. He read out her address from his notebook. “You were at this address?”

“No,” the man said. “I am not knowing this place.”

Stone took the legal pad from the table, tore off a sheet of paper, and wrote on it. “Check to see if Ernst Hausman is still in Hamburg. Find out his address and his mother’s name. Find out if there are any siblings.” He handed it to Dino, who looked at it, then handed it to Anderson. Anderson left the room.

“I don’t understand,” Dino said. “You’ve admitted killing all these people, but you deny killing Susan Bean. Why?”

“You must be listening better,” the man replied. “I am not knowing this lady.”

Anderson returned to the room. “It’s being done,” he said, handing Dino a note.

Dino read it and handed it to Stone.

Stone read it aloud. “No fingerprint record in this country. Have sent request to Interpol.”

“How long have you been in this country?” Dino asked.

The man shrugged. “Few weeks, I think.”

“Did you enter the country legally?”

“Oh, yes,” the man said. “I am being very legal always.”

“Except when you are killing people.”

“Except at this time.” He smiled.

“You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?” Dino asked.

The man shrugged.

“Let me acquaint you with a point of the law in the state of New York,” Dino said. “We have the death penalty here. You understand the death penalty?”

The man shrugged and said nothing.

“They take a needle,” Dino said, pointing at his arm, “and put it here, in the vein. That’s all; lights out; kaput.

“In Deutschland is being no death,” the man said. “Deutschland is being civilized.”

“Well, here, we’re still barbarians, I guess,” Dino replied.” Here we still put murderers to death, and you are a murderer. You have confessed to killing seven people.”

“Six only,” the man said. “Not this lady Bean.”

“Bad news,” Dino said. “Six is enough for the death penalty, the needle. Of course, before that happens, you’ll spend many years in a small cell, talking to nobody. We have prisons like that in this country. Dangerous people like you are put into special cells where they see nobody, talk to nobody for twenty-three hours a day. One hour a day, you get to exercise alone. Once a week, you get to shower. Then, after a few years, when you’re already crazy from being alone, they take you to a little room and they put the needle in your arm, you understand?”

The man said nothing, but his face had become grim.

“Now,” Dino said, “maybe there is a way for you to live. You see, we know that you did these murders because Mitteldorfer wanted you to. You had nothing against these people, right? Maybe Mitteldorfer made you kill them. If you tell us about that, if you testify to that in court, then maybe we can ask the district attorney not to go for the death penalty.”