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Yale thing? |
Yeah...Yale thing. |
What do you mean...Yale thing? |
So...there's nothing you can tell me about Paul Owen? |
He led what I suppose was an orderly life. He... ate a balanced diet. |
What kind of man was he? Besides... the information you've just given. |
I hope I'm not being crossexamined here. |
Do you feel that way? |
No. Not really. |
Where did Paul hang out? |
Hang...out? |
Yeah. You know...hang out. |
Let me think. The Newport. Harry's. Fluties. Endochine. Nell's. Comell Club. The New York Yacht Club. The regular places. |
He had a yacht? |
No, he just hung out there. |
And where did he go to school? |
Don't you know this? |
I just wanted to know if you know. BATEMAN Before Yale? If I remember correctly, Saint Paul's... Listen, I just...I just want to help. |
Anything else you can tell me about Owen? |
We were both seven in 1969. |
So was I. |
Do you have any witnesses or fingerprints? |
Well, there's a message on his answering machine saying he went to London. |
Well, maybe he did, huh? |
His girlfriend doesn't think so. |
But...has anyone seen him in London? |
Actually, yes. |
Hmmm. |
Well, I've had a hard time getting an actual verification. A Stephen Hughes says he saw him at a restaurant there, but I checked it out and what happened is, he mistook a Hubert Ainsworth for Paul, so... |
Oh. |
Was he involved at all , do you think, in occultism or Satan worship? |
What? |
I know it sounds like a lame question, but in New Jersey I know this sounds like a lame question, but last monthI don't know if you've heard about this, but a young stockbroker was recently arrested and charged with murdering a young Chicano girl and performing voodoo rituals with various body parts |
Yikes! No. Paul wasn't into that. He followed a balanced diet and |
Yeah, I know, and was into that whole Yale thing. |
Have you consulted a psychic? |
No. |
Had his apartment been burglarized? |
No, it actually hadn't. Toiletries were missing. A suit was gone. So was some luggage. That's it. |
I mean no one's dealing with the homicide squad yet or anything, right? |
No, not yet. As I said, we're not sure. But... basically no one has seen or heard anything. |
That's so typical, isn't it? |
It's just strange. One day someone's walking around, going to work, alive, and then... |
Nothing. |
People just...disappear. |
The earth just opens up and swallows people. |
Eerie. Really eerie. |
You'll have to excuse me. I have a lunch meeting with Cliff Huxtable at Four Seasons in twenty minutes. |
Isn't the Four Seasons a little far uptown? I mean aren't you going to be late? |
Uh, no. There's one...down here. |
Oh really? I didn't know that. |
Listen, if anything occurs to you, any information at all... |
Absolutely, I'm 100% with you. |
Great, and thanks for your, uh, time, Mr. Bateman. |
Detective Kendall...uh Campbell? KIMBALL Kimball. Call me Don. |
Don. |
So...you hang out here a lot? |
Uh, yes...I mean...whenever necessary. You know. |
How's the investigation going? Taken anyone in for "formal questioning?" |
0h no. Informal conversations, mostly. What's that, Stoli? |
Yeah. No Finlandia, as usual. Fucking dump. |
Too true. You know, Batemanpeople tend to reveal so much more about themselves when they're in a relaxed setting, don't you think? |
I mean they want to get caught. |
Dan, great to see you again. Like I said, you need anything at all, I'm your man. I don't envy your job. I mean Owen was a...complex man. |
I actually came to see Timothy Price, but he's taken a leave of absence. |
Yeah, gone into rehab. Shame. Is he a suspect? |
Not really. |
Do you remember where you were on the night of Paul's disappearance? Which was on the twentieth of December? |
God...I guess...I was probably returning videotapes. |
I had a date with a girl named Veronica. |
Wait. That's not what I've got. |
What? |
That's not the information I've received. |
Well...I...Wait...What information have you received? |
Let's see... That you were with |
Well, I could he wrong. |
Well...When was the last time you were with Paul Owen? |
We had...gone to a new musical called...Oh Africa, Brave Africa. It was...a laugh riot...and that's about it. I think we had dinner at Orso's. No, Petaluma. No, Orso's. The...last time I physically saw him was...at an automated teller. I can't remember which...just one that was near, um, Nell's. |
Well, thank you, Mr. Bateman. |
Patrick, please. I hope I've been informative. Long daya bit scattered. |
Listen, I'm a little spent for now but how about lunch in a week or so when I've sorted out all this information? |
Great, yes, I'd like that. |
And if you could try and pin down where you were the night of Owen's disappearance, it would make my job a lot easier. |
Absolutely. I'm with you on that one. |
Never. I mean...I don't really like... singers. |
Not a big music fan, eh? |
No, I like music. Justthey'reHuey's too... black sounding. For me. |
Well, to each his own. Solunch, Thursday? I'll call your secretary about reservations. |
I'll be there. |
No hash browns? |
Not in the mood, I guess. |
But...everyone orders the hash browns here. I mean it'shave you been here before? |
Yes, of course. The hash browns are delicious. I'm just...not... ordering them. |
Suit yourself, I guess. |
So, the night he disappeared? Any new thoughts on what you did? |
I'm not really sure. I had a shower...and some sorbet? |
I think maybe you've got your dates mixed up. |
But how? Where do you place Paul that night? |
According to his date book, and this was verified by his secretary, he had dinner with...Marcus Halberstam. |
And? |
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