Still of the Night Page #5

that I'd been to bed

with your girlfriend?

You aren't curious?

Anyway, night before last

Brooke and I were working late.

Everybody else

had gone home.

And, uh,

I don't know why,

I guess I just wanted to

see what would happen,

I reached out and put my hand

on the back of her neck.

She didn't make a move.

She didn't say a word.

And I kissed her.

And then I started to

unbutton her blouse.

And I put my hand

on her breast.

And she didn't make

a move to stop me.

What did you tell

the police about me?

Nothing.

- What's the matter?

- Don't lie to me, please.

That detective had me in

his office all afternoon.

You must have told

him something.

They're questioning everyone

who worked with George.

No, no, no, that's not it.

They knew something else.

I could tell.

Brooke, I think it's very

naive of you to think

that they're not going to find

out about you sooner or later.

Not if you don't tell them.

I mean, you're the only

one who knew about us.

What is it you're

so afraid of?

I was with him the

night he was killed.

We had been having

this affair.

And I was trying...

I told him I'd meet him one last

time at the bar near Crispin's.

He start...

It got very ugly and, uh, I told him

that I never wanted to see him again.

And he laughed at me.

He told me there was no way on Earth

that he would ever allow that to happen.

So I left.

I just walked out.

He followed me. He tried to

make me get in the car with him.

I wouldn't go. I... I walked home.

I left him there.

I must have been

the last person

to see him alive.

When I woke up in the morning,

I saw the papers. I couldn't believe it.

It was...

It was horrible.

I saw his picture.

This man that I

thought I'd loved.

It was horrible,

but you know what I felt?

I felt relieved.

All I kept thinking was.

"I'm so glad. "

I'm so glad he's

out of my life.

Don't you think that

there's something

a little bit wrong

with that?

I mean, with me?

First of all,

let's get one thing straight.

You're not responsible for what

happened to George Bynum

just because you're

glad he's dead.

And whatever you're feeling now,

guilt, remorse, whatever it is,

it's human, it's understandable,

and it's something we all share.

Nothing wrong with that.

It's my mother.

I'll call you later.

And that's when he

wakes from the dream.

Okay, let's have one last

go at the traditional stuff.

Box, woman.

Green, jealousy.

So we start by

considering the possibility

that we're dealing

with a jealous woman.

Since George Bynum puts the box

in his pocket, I can only assume

that he thinks he has some sort of

control over the jealous woman.

Until something goes

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