I remember the time I was kidnapped and they sent a piece of my finger to my father. He said he wanted more proof.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
In 1975, when my students were kidnapped by rebels, I was accused of hiding instead of trying to save them, and of not giving enough money for their ransom. I wasn't believed.
Although my mother and father were both completely legit, it was all around me, this crime and licentiousness.
I was held hostage and almost executed by a man who was robbing us in the middle of the night.
My siblings and I had this theory that my parents were spies.
My daughters have grown up knowing all about my kidnapping and the case and what happened.
One of my earliest memories is of my father carrying me in one arm with a picket sign in the other.
They made a shrewd guess that I could give them some useful information, and they were the first to meet me. Some one said they came to arrest me, and - well, let it go at that.
While I was in 'Inadmissible Evidence' at the Donmar, I was mugged at the HSBC ATM on Shaftesbury Avenue. I grabbed one of the men, and when the police arrived, they put both me and him against a wall until they worked out which of us was the criminal.
It was my father who - after, at age 15, I had attempted unsuccessfully to drive the family car using a 'borrowed' key and knocked down a wall of the garage - convinced me over the telephone not to run away from home and who then came home from work not to punish me but rather to console and comfort me.
While I was in jail, they handcuffed me and took me to a backroom, where a detective from the FBI and a Secret Service agent were, and they interrogated me for about three or four hours.