Chapter Two
It was a beautiful day and the air was clean and smelled of heat. The bright sun left a nice warmth on top of Morgan's head as she walked towards the market. The market was loud and smelled of fish and raw meat, but it was a trip she usually enjoyed anyhow. It was even nicer without the escorts! She gripped the basket tightly and walked, observing the fresh fruit and picking out the best apples and grapes. She knew she would have to pick up wine, as well, due to Lady Murasaki coming that night. Although she did not approve of her father's choice, she would gladly appease his interest for now.
Morgan glanced up quickly as she heard a drunk causing some trouble over at a fish stand run by a local Frenchman. She smiled, shaking her head, she looked back down at the apple in her hand. She squeezed gently, checking for bruising and abrasions, and then handed it to the cashier to total up the price for the delicious fruits. She handed him the money, and thanking him she began walking again.
The drunken man was still yelling obsceneties, the police now having arrived, were restraining him into some handcuffs. She watched him closely, observing his behavior in almost a curious manner. She never considered herself condescending or judgemental, but merely curious of others' behaviors. The drunk looked towards her as she walked by and smiling a gross smile let out a lecherous laugh in her directions.
"I like my women with meat on their bones. Tell me, love, would you like some more meat in you?" He laughed again and Morgan stepped up to him.
The officers restrained him tighter, and looked to Morgan in recognition.
"Madam Popil. Please, keep your distance. He's quite a pot stirrer." Officer Paradis looked at her in warning, but knew better than to reprimand an inspector's daughter. Things like that usually got back to their fathers and then their fathers would have some pull at a suspension. Morgan gracefully lifted her well-defined chin and her cheekbones turned up in a smile as she spat in the drunk's face. Her spit pouring over him and her satisfaction was shining brightly.
"Good day, officers." She said politely as she turned and walked away with the same grace as she had walked up to them with. She snarled to herself, but kept her mind calm. The thought that he had all but called her plump almost hurt her feeling. Almost. She was not skinny as was the style these days, so therefore she had often been teased in grammar school. Her hips were full and her legs were strong. Her stomach was not concave, but nowhere near convex. She liked to think of herself as curvaceous. Her father always told her that she looked as if she had walked straight out of a Vermeer painting with her pale skin and full hips. No, she was not fat. She liked to think she was just right. But it still did not quell the achings of insecurities.
She continued her shopping at a lesiurely pace, every once in a while stopping to look at the vendors who carried purses and jewelry. The loud noise did not bother her anymore. Ever since she had taken up the family shopping when she was thirteen, she had become accustomed to the market place. She knew every vendor, every turn and every curve. Her first trip alone had nearly been traumatizing. Many vendors had overcharged her, not knowing her status as the daughter of an inspector. Once she had come home, she had collapsed in tears. The noise, the smoke, the stares had all scared her her half to death. Her father held her afterwards asking for the vendors who had overcharged her. The next day it had been taken care of, but ever since then she had been determined to be self-sufficient and independant.
She had accomplished this in those five years and knew everyone thought of her as a cold-hearted bitch. She embraced the assumption and made it her defense and armor. She found the more frigid she became, the less obstacles she had to face. There were no boys pining for her affections and no friends to drag her down. The only friends she had had were off at universities or married and moved away. So now it was just her and her father. But now she didn't even have him to herself. She had to share him with Lady Murasaki.
She was not pleased with the situation. She felt Lady Murasaki was merely using him as a comfort now that Hannibal was gone, and that her was just a substitution for the pain Hannibal had taken care of. Now the he had left her, just as her late husband had, she needed a new man servant. Thus, her father came into the picture and took the job with a smile on his face. It was a shame he couldn't see that she was using him, but Morgan knew her father would see it in time.
Morgan began her walk home, her basket full of breads, fruits, and some meats. The sun was slowly dimming as it reached mid-afternoon. It seemed as if the sky was on the verge of rain, so she began to walk a little faster. Much to her chagrin, the rain droplets began to fall and she grimaced as they grew harder and harder. She avoided getting soaked by taking cover under an awning of a hotel and began impatiently tapping her foot. She wanted to be home by now so that she could grab her coat and make her way out of the house again before her father arrived home.
Morgan jumped as an umbrella opened in her face and looked over to see a young man handing it to her. She stared at him in confusion for a while, not quite knowing what he expected her to do with it.
"Here. Take it. I don't need it anymore. I've already arrived at where I was going to and you seem impatient to get back to your homestead." He sent her a small smile and she smiled back, genuinely, and took the umbrella. Her hand brushed against his and she felt him tense, but she did not look back into his face. He was handsome, she had noticed, but her mind did not care much for emotions of attraction or love. Atleast, not at that moment in time.
"Thank you." She murmered, smiling towards him again. He nodded his head in an almost regal manner and she found herself wondering who this handsome individual was. She looked out down the sidewalk towards her trail back to the house, but when she looked back he was gone. She frowned and gripped the black umbrella tighter. With a shrug she stepped back out onto the sidewalk and walked home in the rain under the shelter of the umbrella.
She unlocked the door, ignoring the barking of their dog Simba. She stuck the umbrella out the door and violently shook the rain water off of it. She closed the door and looked back down at the umbrella the stranger had given her. Her eyes wandered over the beautiful crafted handle. It was a lovely cherry with a mother of pearl ball at the base. As she observed it, a silver plate struck her attention and she squinted, reading the inscription of cursive. It was only two letters inscribed but it was enough to make her drop the umbrella onto the floor with a clatter.
The cursive 'H.L.' was enough to get her heart beating rapidly, and she shook her head telling herself it could just be a coincidence. She chalked it up to obsession and a vibrant imagination that she had always possessed. However, she knew the possibilities of this world were endless and she also knew that Hannibal Lecter's whereabouts were not known. She picked the umbrella up off the floor and remembered the name of the hotel they had been in front of. Her curiosity took a dangerous turn and she began hastily unloading groceries.
When she had finished she glanced at the clock and realized it was almost time for her father to arrive. She quickly wrote a note, explaining she would be out eating a small dinner and possibly shopping and grabbed her coat and the mysterious umbrella and left. She walked briskly, keeping down the rising fear in her throat. She knew she shouldn't be doing it, but her curiosity continued to grow. She would return the umbrella and find out who this man was. She was not going to turn him in to her father, by any means. She did not necessarily agree with Hannibal's actions, but she also knew the men got what they deserved. She had no feeling of sympathy for them, but moreso sympathized with their killer.
The rain had left the streets wet and she tried to avoid the puddles. The new dress her father had bought her was silk, and she did not want to get it wet. Her feet stopped outside of the hotel and she looked around. The doorman nodded politely to her and she smiled back and nodded. She walked away and adjusted the hat on her head as she leaned against the brick of the building.
"Hello Madam Popil." Her head jerked up towards the voice and her eyes landed on the handsome man who had given her the umbrella. She pushed off of the wall and walked towards him. She handed him the umbrella and observed him silently. His eyes landed on the umbrella and then looked back at her. Her grabbed it from her and looked it over, his eyes rose back to her and he smiled.
"Thank you."
She smiled and nodded.
"You know my name because you're Doctor Lecter, correct?" She asked. She already knew the answer, but she still needed to hear it from his lips. He pursed his lips and smiled, not giving her an answer. She quickly added, "I'm not turning you in to my father. I have no sympathy for the lives you took."
He raised his eyebrows and nodded. "Yes, I am Hannibal Lecter. I appreciate your kindness, and thank you for returning my umbrella."
She nodded and was distracted by the doorman going inside of the hotel, trailing behind some hotel patrons, and it left she and Hannibal alone on the sidewalk. She quickly stepped back when he stepped towards her. She never liked to admit her fear, but the stories she knew were true did frighten her. She gasped as he grabbed her, one strong arm around her waist and the other with a syringe at her throat.
"I almost feel guilty for doing this." He murmered into her ear as he jabbed the syringe into her throat. The last thing she remembered before going unconcious was him quitetly shushing her and running a hand through her hair.