Clarice: Good afternoon. Sorry to bother you. I'm looking for Mrs Lippman's family.
Jame Gumb: No, Lippmans don't live here any more.
Clarice: Excuse me. I really need to speak with you.
Jame Gumb: What's the problem, officer?
Clarice: I'm investigating the death of Fredrica Bimmel. Your name is?
Jame: Oh, uh, Jack Gordon.
Clarice: Mr. Gordon, good, uh ... well, Frederica used to work for Mrs. Lippman. Did you know her?
Jame: No, nuh-uh. Oh, wait ... was she a great, big, fat person?
Clarice: Yeah, she was a big girl, sir.
Jame: Yeah, I may've ... no, I read about her in the newspaper. Um, Mrs. Lippman had a son, though, maybe he could help you. I got his card in here someplace. Do you wanna come in while I look for it?
Clarice: May I?
Jame: Yeah, sure. Are you close to catching somebody, you think?
Clarice: Yes. We may be. Did you ... take over this place after Mrs. Lippman died, is that right?
Jame: Yeah, I – I bought this house ... two years ago.
Clarice: [looking around] Did she leave any records? Any business records, tax forms, lists of employees?
Jame: No, nothing like that at all. Say, does the FBI learn something? The police around here don't seem to have the first clue.
[Clarice notices a moth]
Jame: ... I mean, have you got, like, a description, fingerprints, anything like that?
Clarice: No. No, I don't.
[Clarice unbuttons her gun holster]
Jame: Oh, here's that number!
Clarice: Very good, Mr. Gordon. May I use your phone, please?
Jame: [starts laughing] Sure you can use me phone.
Clarice: [draws her gun] Freeze! Put your hands over your head and turn around! Spread your legs! Spread your legs! Put your hands in the back ... thumbs up – freeze!
[Jame runs off]
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