Clubbing: Part IV

(Story begins here.)

``Okay... but what has this got to do with me?'' Isaac asked.

``What has this got to do with you?'' Moe replied, his eyes wide open in horror. ``What the hell do you mean by `what has this got to do with me'? Dude, the girl who died, you were making your moves all over her, becoming all fucking defensive over her like she's your property or something. Each time another dude tried to dance with her, you were charging in like she's your girlfriend and was this close to literally beating up the dude who tried to come close. She didn't seem as though she minded the attention you were giving her, and everyone there could tell that something was going on between you and her. Hell, even the DJ had to tell remind the bouncer I had around last night to keep an eye out on you in case you went postal and hurt someone.

``I didn't keep track of when the hell you left, or for that matter, when the hell she left. I think most people remember seeing you and her in the club, and then, no one could remember seeing you and her in the club. In other words, Isaac, if you cannot remember what the hell happened, you have basically a CLUB full of people who are willing to testify that you have been at the club with her and developing more than a passing interest. And now that she's been found clubbed, you are going to be suspect number one.''

Isaac heard Moe's words with stoicism. Hangover migraine notwithstanding, he finally understood why Moe thought it expedient to get him to drop by and have a chat with him. A sick feeling was starting to manifest itself within the stomach of Isaac; he felt like he had to throw up.

``So man, Isaac, do you have any fucking idea what happened between the time you were here and when you got back home? If I were you, I'd find out an explanation of some sort, whether or not it is a real one, because right now, nothing is pointing in a good direction for you.''

Isaac looked at Moe. The owner of the Prancing Princess Club was staring intently at him, his eyes full of concern and fear for his friend. It was starting to be clear to Isaac just how grave the situation was. He trembled uncontrollably and felt a swoon coming on. Moe suddenly pulled his drawer open and grabbed a brandy before thrusting it at Isaac.

``Here, have some of this while you think. Now let me tell you more stuff that I know. The cops have found her body, but they haven't found the murder weapon. They had been claiming that the injuries were consistent with being slugged by something large and blunt, and the last I've heard, they were appealling to witnesses to the crime. They haven't come round to me yet, but when they do, they will immediately start for you. So, Isaac,'' Moe continued, slowing down and articulating his words to ensure Isaac could understand completely, ``now that you know the score, I hope you will go back home and look carefully at the things you have and see if you have evidence of any sort that you did the clubbing or not. This is as much as I can help you.''

``Also, you don't have to tell me anything about what you found out. The less I know, the less I can talk to the cops about.''

(Story continues here.