Chapter 34

"Will we be using the same routine as last time, Clarice?"

She considered their options and possible consequences. If they played it the same way as last time, Alessandro might find out again that she'd paid the mother a visit with her psychiatrist, pretending he was with the Questura. Was that acceptable? Would he let it slip by? She doubted it - especially after last night. Was there a good alternative? They could wait for her to leave the house, and sneak in. Or maybe Hannibal could enter alone, and persuade her to allow him access to the computer. Or he could distract her, and give Clarice a shot at the computer.

"No, but I'm not sure what our best shot is."

"You can never tell."

"I know, I know. Just a sec, okay?"

Clarice pondered for a moment, then turned to Hannibal.

"I don't want Alessandro to know we were here like last time."

"Do you want me to go first and let you in after a while?"

"Can you do that?"

Hannibal didn't reply to that, he just looked at her inquiringly.

"Okay, forget I asked," she laughed. "I've got the USB drive, I'm ready." she added.

"Wait one minute, then come to her apartment. I'll open the door as soon as possible," Hannibal said and stepped out of her Musa in a matter-of-fact way that was more appropriate for a person going to do some grocery shopping.

Clarice counted to sixty with her eyes closed. It helped pass the time and it helped her focus on the task ahead. As the last number passed, she opened her eyes, took a good look around and exited the vehicle. With an energetic but not hasty trod she walked over to the decrepit building. She'd dressed as shabby as she could to blend in here, but her features and stance were harder to alter. Luckily, she knew a larger apartment building meant less social control.

The elevator was out so Clarice took the stairs at a moderate speed. After reaching the right floor, she walked through the corridor and found the door to the apartment closed, and it didn't open as she neared. She walked on to the end of the corridor, and looked out of the window to pass time. The cheerless surroundings didn't help improve her worries about today's quest. After sixty more counts, she turned and walked back. Just before she reached the door, it quietly opened an inch or two. Swiftly, she went inside.

Once inside, Clarice could see Hannibal returning to the living room, but indicating with his arm she should proceed into another room. She followed his direction and found the computer they were looking for. From the living room came Hannibal's voice, speaking Italian in a fluent and steady way. Every once in a while she could hear Ms. Tagliabue speak. Her tone was not as decisive as Hannibal's.

Retrieving the USB drive from her trouser pocket, she inserted it and turned the computer on. She watched the screen, then pressed F10. Quickly, she chose the option 'Boot from USB Drive', and waited for Linux to start. A minute later she was able to explore the system's hard disk. She found file Indirizzi within a few seconds with Konqueror and copied its complete folder to her USB drive. After that, she immediately shut down the computer. As she left the room, Hannibal was in the hallway, and he silently led her outside. A quick peek in the living room showed her the mother, seemingly asleep on the couch. [MB]

…

The USB still clasped in her hand, Clarice turned her head to watch Hannibal's profile as he steered them through the narrow streets.

"Is she dead?"

Hannibal sighed. The sound was recrimination enough.

Clarice tried again. "What happened?"

"What happened was we successfully obtained the information we were seeking, and the mother will not be reporting any pesky details to the Questura."

"I never doubt your results, Hannibal."

"Just my methods?" There was amusement in his voice. And something else.

Damnit, the case was supposed to offer a respite from this topic, not inflame it further. Clarice dug deep, and with the exception of Alessandro's safety she trusted Hannibal impeccably. Even Carlo Bruno's death had left her feeling more glad than anything else.

"Not even those, Hannibal. I apologize."

He reached across the console and she placed her hand in his. He gave a gentle squeeze and then left his fingers in hers.

"She was on something. I'd hazard a guess of methamphetamines."

Clarice thought back to their earlier interview. She hadn't seen any indicators that the woman was abusing any substances, specifically meth. She didn't have the appearance of a tweaker, no sores on her face or sunken cheeks. No "restless eyes" as she'd come to term them while still in the Bureau. She'd worked with informants that were meth addicts, and many seemed to develop an inability to maintain eye contact. Instead their gaze would travel from object to object in the room. Maybe they were just assessing value, what each item was worth in street value for more drugs.

"Do you think she's only recently a user?"

The question seemed to surprise Hannibal, and he glanced at her.

"It's a possibility. Grief often drives people to substance abuse."

It was true. As much as the woman's neglect of her child sickened Clarice, she was a mother who had lost her child. But that lead to a new thought…

"Grief for her dead daughter, do you think? Or for Bruno?" It didn't matter, she knew it didn't. But if it was the latter, the woman had sunk even more in her estimation. To take your deadbeat lover's death harder than your own child's?

"Given the circumstances and the timing, likely Bruno."

"Maybe you shoulda killed her." [D]

.

"Ignazio!" she called from downstairs.

"Hm?"

"What are you doing?" she asked, and started to climb the stairs.

With practiced movements, he left the forum and opened a news site.

"Having a look at the news, dear."

"So, anything I need to know?" she asked. From the time he'd been upstairs already she could tell he had been doing more than that.

"You really want to hear what Berlusconi said this time?" he said as she entered the room.

"Hm, I guess not. Anything else?"

"Nothing you'd find interesting. Juventus won."

He pulled her on his lap. She could feel his prick stiff in his pants.

"How are you feeling?" he said.

"I'm fine," she answered with a smile to cover her unease.

He gently moved his hands over her arms, touched her jaw, moved his hands over her body.

She let him. She didn't want him to feel rejected. She didn't want him to suspect anything was amiss. Or that she knew. So she let him. And she kept smiling at him.

His hands softly kneaded her breasts. Her nipples grew hard, a response she could not suppress. He moaned and leaned over to them. He kissed her breasts through the fabric of her blouse. His hands worked. She could feel his lust.

And she knew he had visited that site again and that what he'd seen had aroused him. Now, he'd want some satisfaction. And she knew she'd give it. She would give it so he would not go suspicious. She'd give it to him now to allow her to continue the work of the Lord.

Lord, I knew you'd help me. I waited, and now I see You have blinded their eyes once more. They're getting hot and anxious again, they're stirring… You shall have them in derision. You shall speak unto them in Your wrath, and vex them in Your sore displeasure!

You have shown me this battle is not futile, Lord. I thank Thee. I praise Thee, oh Lord! With your help, and with Your help only, I'll be able to bear the burden and fulfill my purpose, as You have done before. Let me be Your humble and true servant, Lord!

Many, o Lord my God, are thy wonderful works which thou hast done, and thy thoughts which are to us-ward: they cannot be reckoned up in order unto thee! If I would declare and speak of them, they are more than can be numbered.

I must be strong and trust Thee. But I must wait a while more. Yes, I must and will wait. Wait for a sign from Thee, o Lord…