Paper Trails
Chapter One - Barney
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Ardelia Mapp knew her search for her probably-long-dead-and-eaten friend bordered on the obsessive but she was not a woman who took kindly to giving up, or to admitting defeat. It had been over three years since she had woken to that fateful phone call, telling her Clarice was missing in the company of Hannibal Lecter, but since then she had never stopped searching. Ignoring the best advice of her colleagues and friends, she pushed on with the case, long after the FBI had tucked the files away in storage.
Part of the reason why was guilt. That fateful night, the night Clarice Starling had disappeared, Mapp had not been home. For the life of her, she could not remember where she had been - out on a date, or to the movies, or something - but it had not been where she needed to be. At home. With Starling. Holding her friend back from making the most rash and possibly fatal mistake of her life. Starling should never have gone after Lecter on her own. She should never have had the opportunity. Starling was hot-headed. It had always been Mapp's place to hold her back.
Guilt was a strong motivator. For the past few years, though no staff or funding had been offered, Mapp pursued leads on her own time - filling her spare room with file boxes and working late into the evenings, scanning interpol memos for any sign of her missing friend, or her cannibal captor. She refused to accept the possibility that Starling might be dead. (Though, deep down, she knew that with ever month that passed it became more likely). She could not shake the idea because there was no body - and she was sure Lecter would have flaunted a kill had he made one. The bastard had too much of a taste for the dramatic. Mapp was forced, then, to believe he was holding Starling alive.
The ring she had received in the post, not a year past, was her proof. Though the handwriting on the packaging was inconclusive, according to the Bureau's best analysts, Mapp knew it was Starling's. The note inside had told them nothing of when or where it was written, but while the FBI brushed it off as a prank, Mapp took it as a sign that she was on the right track with her investigation. A familiar jewel in a new setting, accompanied by a note (written, perhaps, under duress). It was proof of life and a warning. Whether the words had been penned by Starling or her captor, Mapp could not be sure. Either way it amounted to the same.
'I'm fine and better than fine. Don't look for me. I love you. I'm sorry I scared you. Burn this'.
Starling was alive and fine. Mapp was not to look for her.
Well, that was one request the FBI agent was not wiling to grant. The note, if anything, redoubled her efforts. When the Bureau refused to re-open the case, Mapp applied for a moths' leave, to follow the last of her leads to satisfaction. It was a make-or-break moment, but her dedication paid off. Her dedication, and an incredible amount of chance. Through a series of coincidences she could not believe, even now, she found herself sitting in an armchair of a small San Franciscan apartment. Sitting across from no other than Barney Matthews, Dr Lecter's former orderly and guard.
Barney had aged very little in the last nine years. Indeed, he looked nearly identical to the man pictured in Mapp's case file. Though there were faint lines around his eyes and a smattering of grey through his hair and beard, however, Mapp could see his mass was every bit as solid as it had been. Even sitting down, the ex-guard cut a formidable figure. Watching him, the special agent took a steadying breath. She was risking a lot by being here, but he was risking even more. She needed to remember that. She needed not to spook him. This interaction had to go well. She was out of other leads to follow.
"We both know why I'm here," Mapp stated, folding her hands on top of one knee. "Would you mind if we proceeded straight to business?"
Barney inclined his head, then glanced towards a blonde woman who had been standing to his left.
"Honey, can you fetch the agent a drink. Cranberry juice okay, Agent Mapp?"
She nodded and left the room.
"My partner," Barney explained.
He made no mention of her name and Mapp understood why. It was safer, this way. On the surface, they might look like old friends having a quiet afternoon tea together, but hidden agendas lurked just below the surface.
Barney's girlfriend returned after a minute, with two glasses of juice and a plate of biscuits, setting them down with a 'clunk' on the table. Mapp murmured her thanks before she left again. Barney sat up a little straighter.
"Now, I know we have established why you are here, Agent, but would you mind repeating it, for the purposes of…" he paused, shifting on the chair and folding his shovel-like hands "our contract."
The armchair creaked under his immense weight.
"Well, it's been three years, Barney. I'm guessing we can both dispense with the idea I'm here on a social visit…"
The ex-guard waited. He had every right to be cautious. Mapp didn't blame him. Trading information on Hannibal Lecter's whereabouts with the FBI could be considered rude. And Barney of all people knew Lecter's opinion on that. The words from the old FBI interview tape echoed inside Mapp's head. It made her shiver, to think that Starling might be with him now. But the words were equally good reason to believe Clarice was still alive. Her friend had once told her that Lecter would see it as the height of discourtesy to harm her; she had always treated him with respect.
"You posted the add, Barney," the FBI agent spoke, levelling her gaze at the man opposite. "I think its best you start proceedings."
Barney made no move to speak. He seemed to want Mapp to be the first to mention the money. So, she did.
"Three hundred thousand… that's a lot of money for an SHO."
The ex-guard blinked, jaw tightening slightly.
One week ago, five hundred thousand dollars would have been a far off dream for Mapp - thus far managing the search for Starling off her own meagre salary. Wild and startling coincidence, however, had made the FBI had finally pulled its finger out. It had started with a small, but incredibly well shot photograph of a bus crash in the back pages of a local newspaper. The photograph was of a young teacher kneeling over the body of a student, paramedics rushing towards the scene. Sad though it was, nobody would normally have looked twice at the background of the photograph. And even if they did, they would be unlikely to have recognised the face of Clarice Starling amongst the twenty-strong crowd. The Lecter debacle had not reported on, in the UK, and certainly Clarice Starling's face had never appeared in press, (outside some interpol briefings). As it happened, however, one of the two million individuals who picked up the Daily Mail that morning happened to be Lilian Andrews. And Lilian Andrews happened to have just spent the week previous poring over some of her boyfriend, Barney Mathew's, press clippings from the time of Lecter's first escape. She recognised Starling, and called her boyfriend. Her boyfriend called the Bureau. And Mapp, who had that very morning run out of leads to follow, received a call from her old supervisor to get back in pronto.
The chances of these factors all meeting up - Clarice being captured in a photo, Lilian Andrews seeing it, and Barney Matthews putting aside personal safety in a need to pay his mother's medical bills - were somewhat astronomical, but Mapp kind of felt as if it was owed her by the world after the last three years of fruitless searching. Finally, the FBI raised their heads and paid attention. The idea of firm intelligence on a man who had embarrassed them so publicly, was too good a lure to pass up. After three meetings and not a little persuasion, Mapp had agreed to be flown to California, and five hundred thousand dollars had been wired to an offshore account by the FBI. The money would be paid in receipt of Lecter's capture, to the informant whose information had led to that capture.
Mapp had every hope that Barney would be paid. She had seen a copy of the photo. And she was cynical enough to think that he had to have enough to incriminate the doctor, or he would not have come forwards. The only way he was not going to be disembowelled for talking to the Feds was if the man with the disembowelling tendencies was good and imprisoned by the time he found out. Needless to say, tensions were running high.
Mapp gestured to a photo of Barney and his girlfriend, holidaying on the beachfront, surfboards and underarm.
"I hear it's an expensive place to live, LA." Barney gave a soft sound to the affirmative. "I guess five hundred grand would get you up and started. And pay your mother's medical bills." Mapp decided to try a different tactic "I mean, the money you made from selling your 'Lecter artefacts'," Barney's eyes narrowed, "was pretty good, but an Ocean view…" Mapp blew out a heavy breath, shrugging "that's expensive. And with the baby on the way..." she let the sentence trail off, watching Barney carefully.
A flicker of surprise crossed his face at the mention of his girlfriend's currently unseen condition. Mapp congratulated herself on checking her hospital records, while she had been checking his mother's.
"You don't need to talk it up, Agent, I called you, remember?"
Mapp felt a tug on the end of her line. He was considering. But the hour was late and she really needed a bite.
"You just sound like you need some convincing." She unfolded her hands, leaning forwards slightly in the deep armchair. "In fact, you're seeming a bit reluctant to give up the good doctor, Barney" her tone hardened "but, you see, he knows where Starling is. And let me tell you, Barney; whatever don't bode well for Starling, don't bode well for you."
The two stared each other down. Mapp forced her gaze to hold steady. Barney twitched slightly. Was he swimming away?
"I want seven fifty, not five. I don't deal for nothing less." He sat back, lifting his chin to frown down on her. "And I want relocation and protection until he's in custody, for me, my partner and her family." Mapp nodded.
"That can be arranged," Mapp hoped she hadn't given into his demands too quickly. "Once your information checks out, of course."
Barney's eyes narrowed, but he nodded his agreement to her terms.
Mapp leant back in her chair, trying to temper her growing excitement.
"Speak facts then, Barney."
Considering the weight of his next words, Barney did not pause for very long before speaking.
"The London photo is proof she was alive recently, but the information you're paying me for is from Buenos Aires, twenty months ago. Another happenstance." Barney's cheek gave an uneasy twitch. "Check the social security number of the owner of a three-series Merc, dark blue or black sedan, registration plates SY15 002. The car will be on the CCTV outside the Teatro Colon, as will the passengers. You should find them both there. I imagine if you run a check on the owner, through his driving licence number, you will connections to a number of offshore bank accounts. Cross reference and see if you can find a connection with the UK; a deposit or a transfer." Barney gave a grim smile. "I'm not saying any of this will do you any good. You'll only catch this guy if you get lucky, or he gets stupid. And the Doctor doesn't do stupid."
Mapp noticed that Barney still used Lecter's title.
"I'm not meaning to sound negative, Agent Mapp, but it has been nearly eighteen months since I saw him. He'll probably be on the other side of the world by now."
Mapp nodded. Barney sat back up, grip tight on his glass of cranberry juice. He took a sip. Then, like an afterthought, he added;
"The bank account will be registered in her name."
"Her?"
Mapp, despite herself, found her voice trembling slightly in the sound of the simple word 'her', hope like Mapp hadn't felt in months sprung up in her chest. Barney nodded, something like pity in his eyes at how desperately she had received the news of Starling's survival.
"Any connections between his past and future identities will be through her identity. You're searching for a white male. He's not going to play within your search parameters."
Mapp grit her teeth at the futility of her situation. She knew that there was little chance for her friend. She knew that well, pondered it every day since Special Agent Clarice Starling had been taken from her. But even if there was the slightest chance that Clarice was alive... Mapp frowned and pushed dark thoughts from her mind. Now, with a lead more solid than any they had received before, was not the time to give up. Now was the time for a second wind.
Mapp nodded, as if concluding the interview, and stood up, gathering her suit jacket around her and searching for the bag which she had placed beside the armchair.
From the chair opposite, Barney sighed contemplatively.
"And I know that paper was from up north, but try London. He always said he wanted to live in London."
Ardelia Mapp nodded again.
"Thanks, sir. I'll keep that in mind."
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