Slam Dance Page #2

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No! No!

Hold it!

Wait a second!

Hey! Hey!

Hey, which one of you guys

is Charles Drood?

l am.

So, you never saw either one of

these men before?

Nope.

And if you saw them again...

do you think you could

identify them?

Yeah, maybe.

Listen,

l don't know.

They didn't take

anything, right?

Nope. Nothing.

And you don't know

what they were after?

That it?

Not quite, Mr. Drood.

You see, your kidnapping

may be connected...

to a case that we're

investigating here...

in which you may be

considered a suspect.

A suspect for what?

Well, l have

to advise you that...

you have a right

to remain silent...

and have the services

of a lawyer...

but if you haven't done

anything wrong...

you've got nothing

to worry about...

and l can get you out of here...

a hell of a lot sooner.

l don't need a lawyer.

All right.

What can you tell me

about a girl named...

Yolanda Caldwell?

Nothing.

Nothing!

They just found her

body today, Mr. Drood.

You're supposed to say

you love me now.

''l would characterize

the relationship...

''as primarily sexual as l knew--

''as l never knew very much

about her private life...

''outside of our relationship--

''her marital status,

place of birth...

friends, et cetera''?

Right.

Weren't you curious?

She wouldn't tell me.

''The last time l saw her...

we had agreed

to go away together.''

No, l--l--l said that

l would meet her there. l...

l didn't exactly say

that l would go away with her.

''l never went to the station.''

Well, why not?

l don't know.

l didn't go!

l've got a wife.

l've got a kid!

l just didn't go, OK?

OK, OK.

Let's go over it again.

Frank.

''l met Yolanda Caldwell...

''at a party in

a West Hollywood dance club...

run by a friend

named James Campbell.''

Hello there, darling.

Fancy a little dance, do you?

Yes.

Excuse me.

Excuse me!

ls that one of those

trick lighters?

No.

ls that a wedding ring?

You ask a lot of questions.

l never met a woman

with a gun before.

Were you in love

with her, Mr. Drood?

You still haven't

answered me, Mr. Drood.

Did you love her?

l don't know.

l don't know

what that means.

Mr. Drood.

Yeah, uh...

Listen, Mrs. Raines...

l'm probably going to

be moving from here.

What?

Where's your hearing aid?

What?

l'll talk to you later.

Oh, Mr. Drood.

What?

What?

Your envelope!

l've written

a letter of complaint...

to the postal service

in Washington, D.C.

l didn't want to send it

locally...

because l'm sure that

our mailman superior...

is a part and parcel

of the conspiracy.

l can't go back.

What conspiracy?

Mr. Drood...

you look terrible.

What conspiracy?

To lose our mail.

Haven't you noticed

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