After the second question he said, “you ask a lot of questions.” I said, “Yeah I do. Does that bother you?”

He goes, “as a matter of fact it does. I don’t think I want to answer anymore of your questions.”

“Well then, you can hit the door.” My niece is sitting there shyly.

“You want to take her out, to leave the house with her, you’ll answer my questions.” They were like, where do you work? Where do you live? I’m not shy. I don’t care. You don’t like it, it’s just too bad. I finally told him, “you can leave.”

He said, “Mary, let’s go.”

She says, “I’m not going.”

Then he says,”Then I’ll stay.”

We started talking. The coffee table was glass, perfect, nothing on it, just been cleaned. So I was finally going to let them leave together. He was a real smart aleck.

So he puts his hands on the glass. Thump! And says, “Here. In case I don’t come back, you got a good set of prints.”

Jimmy Murphy, the guy who hit the door, jammed her into a closet with the fucking ram in her stomach. The towel wrapped around the ram. Now she’s got no clothes on. The cup is in mid air. There’s two guys coming off the bed with guns.

Jimmy couldn’t get his gun out; he had this 300 pound ram in his hands. He was screaming, “Gun, gun, gun, gun, gun!”

People are screaming and yelling. She’s fucking crying because she’s just lost her whole life here, right. One guy was coming up off the bed with a 44 magnum revolver. I pulled the triggers on the double barrel shotgun, and i had it on safety. I ended up hitting him over the head with the fucking shotgun.

When we do the search, that brings us down.