He was kind of talkative in wild, wild terms. I was used to him. I thought he spent the night at a motel downtown. I got a phone call the next morning, wanted to know, “Do you know a Frans van den Brink?” And I said, “Sure, he’s my partner in business.” “Come down to the police station. I want to see you. We’ve got Mr. van den Brink here.” And (laughing) holy moly, he had torn up the motel, his room. What else? I don’t know. That the police picked him up in the night and put him in a cell. He was in a padded cell, stark naked, which goes beside him.
