In a cafe, Chicago
The old man sat quietly behind the counter, reading the morning paper. The little cafe was uncommonly devoid of customers and he found no objection to this freedom since his part-time girls were excused temporarily for their exams.
A little bell ring and he looked up from his paper with annoyance. A very beautiful dark head entered the cafe, morning sunlight envelope her like golden cloak, highlighthing her etheral beauty.
The old man couldn't help but stared . She looked about, standing gracefully in her gray dress and black cardigans. Finally she seemed to notice the old man and decided to occupy the stoole against him.
"What can I do for you, lady?"
She just smiled. Without saying a word, she took out a drawing pad and what looked to be a box of pencils from her bag. He just watched her pretty fingers worked.
"Please give me Espresso and a slice of key lime pie."
Her voice was so clear and sweet that he had to think twice if she actually say this or that is the voice of an angel. But he did his job.
The angel just drew and drew without a word. He wondered why she choose that stoole instead of that fine couch near the window, which is the favourite seat among artists.
"Here's your order."
He put the food down and couldn't help but steal a glance at her drawing. He was not surprised to see the face of a young man with slightly curly hair, and a soft kind face.
"He's handsome. Is he your boyfriend?"
"No." She said. The look of surprise on her face was unsettling. "He does not know me."
"Oh! A crush then." The old man smiled warmly. How romantic!
"Well. I wouldn't say to that extent. He's the person of interest in my artwork." She smiled widely. "He'll be my masterpiece."
"I see then. Best of luck I wish. You know, that is a nice warm face. He's lucky you choose him."
"I'm lucky I found him. I haven't talked to him face to face but he shows interest in my it's kind of enough for me Well. I have to go. I have to be out of town." She grabbed her things and smiled. "Again. So sorry. I won't be able to have you as the subject of my next art work. "
"What a shame. I'd love to be." The old man laughed, waving goodbye to the nice pretty lady,having no idea of how lucky he was.
"That is kind really really creepy." Will said out loud looking at the body pieces.
He was standing in a warehouse filled with human body parts arranged into a heart-shape. Torsos, limbs, but no head, to his relief. According to Dr Hanoki,, the original owners were dead long before these mutilations happen.
"Look here." Hanoki showed him a piece of limb which seemed to be part of right fore arm. There were numbers printed over the pale leathery skin. "These are body codes used in some medical school. You can donate your body for the research purpose before you die. And when you die, they put these numbers on your body and store you in a preservation room. These are fresher than usual, which means they were snatched from their rightful place, before they were treated in formaldehyde."
"I see," Carter Novik, the senior Agent and leader of the taskforce said in a much more optismistic tone. The sickness he had originally felt in his belly reduced to simple anxious feeling. No one had died for this madness."That certainly narrow the places to you think we can find out from which these bodies came from just from these numbers?" He asked hopefully rubbing his hands.
"No. You can't." Will answered, drawing attention to him. He smiled in a carefree way. "But how can a person obtain such many dead bodies. Not just any body. Those belong to a certain facility. Just ask around. You'll find from where."
He then turned away, walking with his hands in his pant pockets.
"Aren't you looking around?" Agent Carter called out after him.
"I have. That's not our new priority." Will turned and shouted back, while walking backward."This guy lacked focus and gut and his work is so crude that it is even an insult to doubt that this is our new guy's work."
"So What!" Carter shouted. "We still have a case to solve."
"The case is already solved! Ask Nora!" Then, Will just left, leaving them dumbfounded, minus one.
Nora chuckled. "Two days ago, a car carrying a number of donated bodies for the research department of our Forensic Unit was stolen while the driver was eating at a diner. We already have the thief in custody. Unfortunately, he has mental disorder and we knew nothing of what happened to the bodies." She shrugged. "It was not a big case and no damage was great enough to cause a uproar. Only the ones from Forensic knew."
She pointed at a truck covered in plastic sheets. "That might be the car."
Will laughed softly while walking. The case was not what he had expected. But he enjoyed and even had fun thinking out the culprit. Who knows Hannibal's copycat was mistaken with a mental irony..
His Phone rang and he answered although he didn't recognise the number.
"Hello. Is this Doctor Graham." A young man voice.
"Yes. I am."
"Oh. Hi. My name is Bobby Gallard from Tattle Crime." Oh. Bad news. Will thought. His father's disdain for that particular gossip tabloid that later developed surprisingly to a paper, was well-known.
"What can I do for you." He asked politely.
"Ah. Are you on the case that involve Hannibal Lector's infamous work?"
"To my knowledge nothing was released anything about Lector and you must be rather mistaken about it." He said defensively.
"I know. Sir. Please don't be mad. I called to help."
Really? Why can't I believe you. "We are utmost thankful for any information." Will was not exactly listened from unreliable sources. He was part nice, and part manipulative, according to Carter.
"Sir. According to a Friend, Hannibal Lector had a child."