Robert 'Joe' Halderman's dream of $2M payday became his own nightmare

Robert (Joe) Halderman must have been on top of the world when he strode into that Bank of America branch in Connecticut on Thursday morning.

Whether he went up to a teller or stopped at the ATM machine, nobody makes a deposit like that and steps away without a receipt.

His little white slip of paper would have read:

"DEPOSIT: $2,000,000."

The available credit would have still been the usual depressingly modest number a few dollars ahead of broke. But all the way down to work in Manhattan, each moment would have felt one moment closer to the magic one.

He would step up to an ATM.

He would dip in his card.

He would punch in his password.

And he would see those fabulous seven figures beside the words "AVAILABLE CREDIT."

Sure, Halderman was still a guy who had blown his marriage.

Sure, he had taken up with young Stephanie Birkitt only for that relationship to unravel.

Sure, he had come upon proof that she had an affair with Letterman.

Sure, the thought must have tormented him as he lay alone in the bed that he and Birkitt had once shared.

Sure, he must have felt that Letterman was untouchable.

Until he came up with a plan.

Now he had a check for $2,000,000.

And hey, it wasn't like blackmail or anything.

Halderman had just sold Letterman a screenplay treatment.

People sell treatments all the time.

Even for $2 million.

Wanna bet Diablo Cody could sell a treatment for that much?

Why not Halderman?

From the instant David Letterman's lawyer handed him the check in the Essex House hotel on Wednesday, Halderman must have felt all his financial troubles were a thing of the past.

Gone were the days of sweating the mortgage, the home equity loan, the child support.

And there was something that might have felt even better than the money itself.

He had gotten Letterman to do his bidding.

The proof would soon be in the bank.

How delicious it must have been for Halderman if he watched Letterman on Wednesday night.

And how could he not have been watching as Letterman gave his monologue?

"How're you doin'?" Letterman began.

Just fine, Dave, I can almost hear Halderman telling himself.

""Nice to see you folks."

Nice to see you, Dave.

"You know it's a special night," Letterman said.

You ain't kidding, Dave.

"Tonight on our program, Madonna will adopt an audience member."

"I love Madonna, I get very excited when she's on the program, and it's going to be interesting tonight to see if the old bypass holds up, you know what I'm sayin'?"

How would the old bypass hold up if the whole world found out about Stephanie and those other staffers?

Or maybe Halderman didn't even need to watch.

Maybe it was enough just to have that check.

He went right to the Bank of America on Thursday morning, got that white slip with "DEPOSIT: $2,000,000."

Then he continued on to work like it was just any other day.

Only this was not like any other day.

He arrived at W. 57th St. with Cronkite-size money, Couric-size money, in his account.

Money that was even then on its way from DEPOSIT to AVAILABLE CREDIT.

Or so it seemed.

Right up to the not at all magic moment detectives from the Manhattan district attorney's office grabbed him.

First thing yesterday morning, Halderman got into his gray Honda and drove to the Bank of America.

He went inside for a few minutes, just about long enough to stick his card into the ATM, punch in his password and check his account.

Maybe he was hoping against all reason to see that "$2,000,000" one more time