The Joseph Meyerhoff Symphony Hall in Baltimore was encompassed with the lilting of an unknown composer's rendition of Bach's Goldberg Variations. Sitting amongst the spectators was Doctor Hannibal Lecter. His head turning ever so slightly as the tune changed, eyes closed, enveloped in the classic as each note alighted upon his eardrums. His demeanor appeared at ease and to anyone around him it would seem that he was ensnared in the moment. This was entirely untrue. Although enjoying the music very much, he had another thing on his mind- Dinner. The music stopped and a standing ovation was in order as all of the symphonists turned toward the audience and bowed. The clapping was quickly replaced by the chattering of music connoisseurs; all discussing the separate pieces in detail and praising each individual melodist's representation.
Doctor Lecter meandered to and fro in search of no one in particular, smiling meekly at any whose eyes met his own. The collective roar of the crowd dulled his hearing after honing the extent of his auditory perception on the music. His now muted ears only enhanced his abnormally dominant sense- Smell. Weaving about the mass of bodies littering the grand atrium, he smelled pungent colognes layered atop sickeningly sweet perfumes. He could smell the napes of many necks precipitating sweat due to their lack of sufficient ventilation. Hairsprays, crèmes, cotton fibers, minty breath, and the slightly mildewed air that swirled throughout the building all bound to his olfactory receptors.
The doctor made his way to the middle of the crowd, all the while maintaining a reasonable distance from the many haughtily dressed bodies. Inhaling deeply, he suddenly stopped short. Amongst the multitude of clashing odors, he detected a hint of something fresh. Like the crisp, wintry air outside had fused with freshly squeezed lemon, combined with sweet overtures. He stood silently for a while, lost in the scent, before being jerked into awareness as a woman bumped his arm. Her mouth was open and head thrown back in laughter as she stumbled behind a man whose hand was cupped around her wrist. The man in front of her turned to look back at the woman as they went; he also wore an expression of boisterous merriment.
How rude, Hannibal thought, brow furrowed. A slight panic overcame him upon realizing the delectable scent which stopped him here had nearly vanished. He pressed forward, nose upturned in search of which direction to go.
"Excuse me, pardon me," he muttered to those he wove around. The scent became stronger the further he went and the crowd became more scattered. He closed his eyes and again inhaled deeply, at last revealing the source of this tantalizing odor. He opened his eyes to see the back of a tall, tawny-haired woman pulling a black pea coat over her shoulders. Lean, taught muscle and healthy-looking. She stepped forward and through the doors, into the frigid night. The coat draped over Hannibal's right forearm was opened and fixed upon his figure as he walked after her. With this, Doctor Lecter had decided upon his primary objective for the evening.
Bracing himself to the cold, Hannibal followed after the woman. Outside, the air was biting and still, the sounds of conversation inside muffled as the door closed behind him. He peered to either side of the lot. Several people were making their way, discussing where they thought they had parked. To his left he heard the light click of heels against the pavement and saw the outline of a lone woman making her way toward the rows of cars, that unique perfume trailing in her wake.
Doctor Lecter buttoned his coat and turned in her direction. He watched as she slowed her pace, reaching into her purse and pulling out a key ring. A black car's headlights flared orange and the click of the doors unlatching echoed off the asphalt. Hannibal continued past her, four cars to her right. Walking into the lane, he made his way behind her and her car as she neared it. He made note of the license plate number in passing and hurriedly started to his Bentley the next lane over. The woman started her engine and backed out slowly as Hannibal arrived at his vehicle and did the same. The hunt was finally beginning.
Doctor Lecter drove in silence as he followed his prey. The city lights dimmed as the area became less populated. The car ahead of him signaled right and turned down a road with a small gas station at the corner.
Must need to fuel her car, He thought.
This may be a welcome opportunity. The woman's car, however, did not approach the fuel pumps, but pulled to the side of the small building and parked under the cover of an ornamental pear tree.
Perhaps not, Hannibal mused. He pulled up to the curb on the opposite side of the road and turned off his engine. Far enough away so as not be conspicuous but close enough to observe. He scanned the storefront and lot, looking for any surveillance cameras. The only one he could see was through the glass door and pointed at the registers inside.
All was situated perfectly for his unraveling plot.
He was going to steal the woman away upon her return to the car, but she did not immediately vacate the vehicle. He watched the shadowed outline of her figure. It was very dim, and where she sat below the shady tree, the light was even poorer. He could vaguely see an arm extend toward the car's ceiling, presumably to turn on the light, but no light came. Typically, Doctor Lecter was excellent in predicting the motive of other beings. His understanding of human nature was overly adequate, which aided very much in efficiently stalking and killing his victims. The experience he was having now was not so understood. Guesses as to what precisely her purpose was for coming here and acting thus circled through his mind, though he quickly deemed this as overanalyzing the situation. The seasoned therapist knew better than to jump to any conclusions. He decided to observe patiently until his moment came.
Turning her head toward the gas station and then to the road, Dr. Lecter watched as she noticed the faint beam of headlights coming forward. Her gaze followed it as it pulled in and parked in a space directly beneath the flickering blue light of the awning. A man stepped out and briskly swept his hands down the cheap brown jacket he was wearing. The woman's face stayed fixed on him. Turning, the man walked up the oil-stained pavement and into the dingy store. The woman finally opened her car door and got out. She doubled down and the hood of her car popped up. Car trouble?
She stood up, closed the door, and walked to the front of the car.
Now was his chance.
He quietly stepped onto the street, careful not to make any sound as he pressed the driver's door closed. The chemical stench of gasoline wafted toward him. His prey was hidden behind the propped hood as he edged forward.
Chimes on the gas station's doorbell sounded suddenly as the man in the brown coat exited. Hannibal quickly went slinking behind the tree nearest him. No need to be seen by anyone other than his intended prey.
"Excuse me, sir?" A light voice queried.
Lecter froze, turning parallel the tree, hoping the shadows and foliage being used as coverage had not betrayed him. The woman stepped toward the man in the brown coat.
"Ma'am?" The man asked quizzically. She walked forward somewhat hesitantly, into the awning's light.
"Hello, I'm sorry to bother you, but I seem to be having some difficulty getting my car started. I think the battery is dead."
"Oh! Damsel in distress, eh?" The man said rudely. "I can help you out if you're needin' it." His back-woods Virginian twang offered. The woman laughed slightly, "That would be wonderful, thank you."
"That your car?" He bobbed his head in the direction her car was parked.
"Yes, I think I may just need a jump start, I have some cables in my trunk."
"Alright, then little lady, I can fix you up right quick. Let's go ahead and get her hooked up, then I'll pull my car over and get ya chargin'"
"Oh, good! Thank you so much, sir. Here," She lifted her arm up and began pacing back toward her car, the man following her.
She popped the trunk and handed him the cables, "These'll do fine." He smiled.
Hannibal watched them from his hiding place a mere nine feet away. He was almost entirely certain that her car was in perfect working order and she did not need a jump-start.
"Let's see here…" The brown-coated man said gravelly as he leaned under the hood and out of sight. The woman stepped behind him, now also out of Hannibal's line of vision.
There was the sound of metallic tinkering and then was the sound of an abrupt thud, followed by a rough gasp and then silence.
A hand reached up and grasped the hood, pushing it closed.
The tawny-haired woman stood alone, fixing a few misplaced hairs with her left hand. Her heels clicked on the pavement as she took a few steps backwards, peering down before her.
She leaned over, hoisting the limp form of the man off the ground. She dragged him to the trunk and looked around suspiciously before shoving him in and pulling a roll of ducting tape from her pocket. She proceeded to wrap the man's limbs tightly and pushed the trunk door down before walking to the driver's side. Stopping before opening the door, she sighed.
As she sighed a smirk spread across her lips, her eyes were closed and what appeared to be a wave of contentedness swept over her before she climbed into the driver's side and started the car.
Hannibal stood there, not unsurprised but not taken aback either.
How intriguing. He thought bemusedly.
He moved slyly as the woman's car pulled out of the lot and back to the road heading into Baltimore. He had an odd feeling after witnessing what had just transpired before him. The natural pecking order was completely invalid when it came to humans and he couldn't help but find that immensely amusing.
Doctor Lecter grinned thoughtfully and walked toward his parked car.
Despite being unable to follow through with a kill, something far more interesting had occurred.
He stored her license plate number, car make and model and physical appearance away in his mind for later use.
He hoped to see her again someday soon.