Triumvirate
A Hannibal fanfiction by Shamaho
March Thru April, 2005.
Disclaimer- I do not own the works of Thomas Harris, which includes characters, places, events or anything within his text. I do own everything else however, and beg that if anyone wants to use my characters, places events or antyhing contained herein, please give me credit, and if this should be posted anywhere, just let me know where it will be.
Notes: I'm horrible with timelines, so if I should mention a date out of order please correct me. Please excuse spelling and grammatical errors, I am not a dictionary. However if I misspell a name please point it out.
I am not well familiar with the landscapes and such of places in Italy, particularly Florence. Most of what I write is what I do know and most of it is imagination, if you have seen these places and wouldn't mind taking the time, please send me your best description to It would be greatly appreciated. This story is being written on a computer without internet and my net time is few and far between, so I won't have much time to do good research on this places, until I can get pictures, and actually go to Florence, I would appreciate it. Gratzi. (Sp?)
Summary- Florence Italy, 2006.
Dr. Lecter's peace is disrupted by the arrival of a certain familiar FBI agent, and by a trainee with a less familiar FBI agent, who hope to solve a new strange case. He of course holds all of the answers, but decides it's time for Clarice to use what he's taught her to lead her to her man, and also into his ever psychotic clutches. But little does he know, things aren't always as they seem, not all trainees need further developement of thoughts, and before Clarice has a chance to apprehend the murderer, someone has a few conditions of their own, and unless the good doctor complies, Clarice is in very mortal danger on her own.
Rating- T, for strong violence and some language, rating subject to change.
Chapter One- Caesar's Palace- see starred above line
Florence, April, 2006. The Boboli Gardens
The beautiful spring sun settled over the bright green plants all around, beams danced in the dew on vibrant flower petals and people flourished around the tiny common area in the center of the tourist attraction, lovers holding each other as they admired the Italian beauty, families all staring in awe, people from all over the world, France, Germany, Latvia, the languages all registered but did not mean anything to anyone. Most of the buzz was over the closed wing of plants and wildlife, crime scene tape over the entrance and someone standing guard to make sure no one trespassed, the past week had been eventful, a murder had been comitted, the first in about 5 years.
More buzz erupted from all corners as three weary Americans, stirred from only three hours of sleep in a hotel minutes away trudged over to the guard, flashed ID's to the guard, who grinned and asked. "F-uh-BI?"
The eldest, a woman, light red, mid back length hair nodded, put her ID back into her pocket. "Si, signor. Let us through?"
"Log in, check your weapon." He said, clearly having trouble speaking English. The woman nodded and motioned for the two others to do the same. She signed the paper after handing over her gun and ammunition. "Don't see the point in this, it's a crime scene, not a captive's cell." She knew why that phrase had sounded so familiar, that night, that finger . . . .
"Yes uh," he read her name off. "Agent Starling, but this is a very high security area, how do I know you wont turn around and shoot me?"
She bent over the paper and scribbled an Sp. by hers and the young man's names. "Sorry, the young one's the only agent, can we go now?" The heavy southern accent was beginning to show now that she was waking up and didn't sound as groggy, it was unlike her to be this tired, had to be the jetlag.
"Of course, Miss Starling." He moved aside, she turned to look at the other two sleepy bodies but felt her breath catch as she noticed how many people were watching them. "Jesus Christ."
The man, another special agent smiled grimly, nodded over to the pathway. "C'mon, Clarice, ignore them." She nodded, led them into the maze of azaleas and rose bushes. Everything seemed fine, beautiful until the rose bushes were now lined with begonias instead of azaleas, old, dried blood was splattered all over most of the bushes, large round brown spots where pools had once been in the grey cobblestone. White arches with streaks of life fluid and spatters here and there, countless to the human eye.
"Hot damn."
"Josh, can you take come pictures? I'm gonna snoop around, you have any questions, rookie?"
"Yeah," the young woman said, turning in a 360 circle. "What do we do with a bunch of bloody bushes?"
"Look."
"For what?"
"Anything. A fingernail, skin, any other body parts that were missed . . ."
"Ugh, I knew I should have been a secretary." She shivered, took a filer from Clarice and bent to the round, began scratching in between the cracks. Clarice moved through the bushes diligently, gloved hands shaking each branch, disappointed to only see flakes of dried blood falling, until something went 'clink'. She bent down and patted under the partivular rose bush until she found what she was looking for, a chain, she pulled it and it slowly slid out, clinking and making scratching sounds against the stones. The two others watched in surprise, on the chain was a heart shaped locket, carefully, Starling opened it up and inside was a phtograph of two men, on the opposite side the word 'Amore' was etched.
"Hey guys, think I found something."
"No shit, Starling, what's that say?"
"Amore, you know, love? The victims were homosexual's, approximately twenty six and twenty nine years old. This isn't the first time old C struck a couple in public, but the first time out of the US."
"You think it is Old Caesar, Clarice?"
"Pretty damned sure." She took a plastic bag from her pocket and dropped the chain in, they continued searching but found nothing, not that this wasn't good enough.
"Congratulations, Ellen, this is your first case." Clarice stated, holding the bag up for them to all admire, the sun was setting now, none of them felt safe here without their weapon, even though it was a crime scene, not a crime scene waiting to happen. There had been no pattern with places, this was the first time it had occurred outisde of the US.
They strolled out confidently, Checked out, got their weapons and got into the car they'd taken, went back to the hotel. From the bench across from the crime scene, a newspaper lowered just as the car drove away, and a familiar, smiling face envisioned the brilliat red hair, a nice change even though he had been fond of the deep brown, almost black natural shade. "Welcome home, Clarice."
An apartment, overlooking the Duomo cathedral.
Upon returning home Dr. Lecter took a relaxing bath, then after drying off and dressing in his evening attire, he sat at the ornate marble desk that dominated his study and lifted a quil and placed it to his paper, bought from the finest stationary shop in italy, in Rome, actually. His decision to greet Clarice had been carefully thought over, his decision also to not aid in the case, had been much esier, he had taught her much in the years, it was her chance to think on her own.
Dearest Clarice,
Two days later, a hotel in the upper part of Florence
"No mail for. . . . Oh, Uh, Special Agent Clarice M. Starling care of the Excelsior hotel, that would be you, I'm pretty sure?"
Surprised, but suspecting it was just something from the director, Clarice nodded and outstretched her hand for the envelope, the clerk handed it to her face down, not thinking anything of it, she thanked him and went up to her room, opened the door, tossed the letter aside gently and went right for the spa like bathroom, stipped of the negativity from today's meeting, as well as her soiled from sweat clothing, she sank into a hot, nerve settling bath, and let it loosen the tight spots in her neck, shoulders and back. After nearly falling asleep in the tub she got out, let the water down the drain and dressed in something casual, the rest of the day was free, hers for the taking, and while work sounded nearly disgusting, she decided to read the letter she had been given at the front desk. She stood from where she'd plopped down on the couch and went to the table near the door of the room, picked the letter up and sauntered back over, sat down, pulled her feet up under her and finally turned the letter over.
. . . . her heart nearly stopped as she gazed upon the familiar scrawl. . . .
She made one decision almost immediately, he had spared and even saved her life that night when Paul Krendler died, he hadn't wanted her dead in the first place, 'the world is more interesting with you in it', he had told her the night she'd been promoted and graduated from Quantico. And it was more interesting with him in it as well, she'd never denied her attraction to him from herself, and was pretty sure he could practically smell it on her. But it was their little secret.
She slowly slid her finger under the flap on the back and opened the letter tediously, her heart thumping like a wil drum in Africa, goosebumps nearly covered her flesh but they weren't there really, barely there, but somewhat there, she felt like a teenager getting her first Valentine from a boy. She carefully removed the folded piece of paper from the envelope, and set the envelope aside, with a deep breath, unfolded the lovely, sweet scented paper.
Dearest Clarice,
It is a true pleasure to see you are around now when Florence is most beautiful, the spring. Did you really come to help train a new recruit? Or did a case in Italy sound too appetizing because you know who lies in wait here? I suppose it was inevitable that some day you would come, your curiosity always did get the better of you. But beyond that, how long do you plan to be in Florence? Will you stay after the case is solved and your covered with metals? Or will you force yourself bck to that dank office that you know you'll have even if you save the day, I think by now you realize that your love is one sided, not mutual, though maybe it is nice for one to love their work.
I will not dwell on your job, after all, 'new case in a foreign country' is like a vacation for you, isn't it? I do hope the weather hasn't disappointed you, but as far as I know you and the comrades came right when the weather brightened, lucky you. You always seem to brighten the world I live in. Is this too bold to say? I certainly hope not, because I know in your dreams I;ve said even more bold words a million times, and you have done the same in mine. But our dreams are not meant to be shared, or to be reenacted, that is why they only exist in our sleep my dear.
Did it excite you to see that I have written? Or were you terrified? Never mind, I know fear excites something within you, you're very much like me, Clarice Starling. We are creatures of habit and animals of the night, the darkness soothes us, did it soothe your fear in that basement with Jame Gumb? Did it exhilerate you? I know killing in the dark always made me feel good, like I was God and nothing could stop me. And then the one time I try to kill in the light, poof, I get caught. Ironic isn't it?
This must seem very much like a pointless letter but for once, I am curious, only you have sparked that curiosity in me, could it be lust? Or even love, hate, understanding? I'm tired of giving answers Clarice, I want them and so does the FBI, I think it's time for you to get and give your own answers, if you wish to respond to me, drop your letter off at the library, leave it with Teresa, she'll get it to me, on the envelope, write Dr. Giusinne.
I trust you will not turn me in, especially now.
Ta ta
Hannibal Lecter. M.D.
Setting the paper down, much calmer but still quite nervous Clarice considered what he had said, he knew something, and he wanted her to find out on her own. He also, had hinted at exploring their relationship, and while this terrified her, it thrilled her, in the lowest way possible, he had explained her so well in only a few paragraphs, she knew she would respond, and knew that this would be the third biggest adventure in her life, and she was ready to take it in, full force.
Finding some paper of her own she set to writing back, slightly embarrassed by her own handwriting, she tried her best to write as neatly and error free as possible. She hated what he did to her, and loved it all at once.
Dr. Lecter,
Well, that's the first chapter. Hope it's ok, please review!
