Conversation · Klaasje (Miss Oranje Disco Dancer)

"He was heavy. I pushed him off and he fell to the floor -- there." She points through the window. "He only had his boots on. I bit the pillow... not to scream, then ran downstairs..." There's a long pause. She just stands there, her arms at her sides.

"I waited for the second shot to come -- for me. I thought there would be one. It never came."

She's forgotten about her cigarette. The butt has burned right down to her fingernails...

"Are you sure you're not making this up?"

"I'm not lying to you..." She looks down, wincing. Her cigarette has singed her fingers.

You may sometimes be bad at reading her, but this time, truly -- she's telling you how it really went down.

"What time was this? When did it happen -- it would help us if you could be as precise as possible."

"11.30 to 12.15. I don't know the exact time. Around midnight."

"That's okay." He makes a note. "Were you inebriated?"

"Not as much as usual. He'd done a line. Plus other things. I was drinking."

Wait -- Titus said she was gurning her jaw off. Much more than usual.

It doesn't matter. Better not to mention it.

"Did you hear or see the shooter in the course of this?"

"No."

"What did you do then?"

"Nothing. I was trapped. I was stuck in my room -- downstairs. I got some clothes on and crawled back up, drew the blinds. Blood was coming from his mouth -- not a lot. Just a little."

"He was still on the floor. Slouched. I couldn't be there with him anymore. So I ran down -- and out of my room. Into the hallway. Down the stairs. I knew there would be people there."

Run, woman! Run past them and out into the street where it's dark and people move -- to the lorries at the intersection. As far as you can...

"Why didn't you run away from here? As a matter of fact -- why are you here now?"

"I already ran. I ran from an entire isola. There is... I can't run any further. Not with these people. This is as far as it gets."

Say nothing.

She pulls on the cigarette, looking up at the sky. Her hair ripples in the breeze as she stands there, silent.

Of course. Keep your eyes open for the killer instead.

"Did you hear or see the shooter -- at any point?"

Of course. Keep your eyes open for the killer instead.

"Titus said you looked pretty high."

"Oh yeah..." She tilts her head. "I did one of his lines. Just to clear my head."

Good thinking. Clear your head. You should clear your head... get into his mindset.

This doesn't fit with the testimony of Titus Hardie. He said she was higher than usual.

"Were you inebriated?"

"What time was this?"

She throws it away and immediately proceeds to light another one.

(Just nod.) "There are a few questions I have to ask for my report."

She looks down with a wince. Her cigarette has singed her fingers.

"Your cigarette, miss."

"Oh..." She looks at it and quickly tosses the butt aside.

(Shake your head.) "That's a motherfucker."

"Yeah, it was a real motherfucker... ouch..." She looks down. Her cigarette has singed her fingers.

"I'm sorry this happened to you."

"So am I." She looks down. Her cigarette has singed her fingers.

A direct hit. The lieutenant looks at you -- in acknowledgement."

"Just a hunch -- then what?"

"I could see it in his eyes."

She blinks. Everything is silent for a second.

"I knew he enjoyed the moment he died. I could see it in him."

"How?"

"So my feeling was right earlier. He was enjoying the moment of his death."

"Yes, but... How did you know that?"

(Better not to mention it.) "Then what happened?"

"You don't have to continue if you don't want to."

"No. I want to. Let's get this done."

"It's okay. Tell us as much as you're comfortable with." He waits for her to continue.

"Alright. Tell me as much as you're comfortable with."

Her chest rises and falls with each word. She keeps herself together, and says it...

"Did you kill him?"

"What?" She gathers the last vestiges of her strength. "Why would I put myself through this... insanity? Get myself cornered like this?" There's a silence.

The wind picks up. "He wouldn't have died if it weren't for me -- I know that. But I would never hurt him."

Rage? Who knows the dark currents where lovers go?

All kinds of crazy things happen when drugs are involved... sweet, sweet drugs.

It could have been a desire murder. Maybe an act of jealousy?