AN/ It just gets better and better. Our favourite couple have to deal with a couple of problems the morning after. Lots more gore. Do have fun...
Disclaimer: They belong to Thomas Harris, except Peters. He's mine, so I can do what I like with him.
Chapter Five: Little Bumps on the Road to Paradise.
The phone was ringing. The duvet moved as whoever was under it reached for a pillow to clamp over their head. The phone rang louder, shrill in the dark. More movement from under the duvet, and a muffled curse. A head appeared, followed by a hand that fumbled for the receiver.
Clarice eventually managed to pick up the phone, nearly falling out of bed in the process. She had installed it by the bed while she was still with the FBI. It was Sods Law that an emergency would come up at some unholy hour, and her presence would be absolutely required.
"Clarice, that you? Jesus, Starling, you had me worried. Why didn't you pick up?"
Starling recognised the voice on the other end of the line. She'd shared a room with it's owner at the FBI Academy. "Ardelia, it's 4:30 in the morning. What's wrong?"
A silence. Finally, "Clarice, you sitting down?"
"Ardi, I'm *lying* down. What's going on?"
"Crawford's dead, Clarice. That's what's wrong."
A shiver of dread, a brief, breathless stab of fear shot through her. Then the moment passed and she was calm again. "How?" *As if I need to ask*
Another pause. "Lecter got him. Got him straight out of his house, Clarice."
As if he'd heard his name mentioned on the other end, Dr Lecter appeared from under the duvet. Twining his powerful arms around Clarice's waist, he rested his chin on her shoulder. "Is it Special Agent Mapp?" he asked in her ear, a note of glee in his voice.
Starling nodded, nudging him in the ribs to tell him to be quiet.
"Starling? Are you still there?"
"Yep. How do you know it was - "
Ardelia cut in. She was angry. "The evil bastard left a note, that's how. You know what this means, girl?"
"What, Ardi?"
"Lecter's in the neighbourhood. *You* have gotta be careful. Did I hear someone with you a moment ago?"
*Damn* "My boyfriend."
"At least there's someone with you. Not that it would stop him. Load your guns and lock your doors and windows. I'll be over in, oh, ten minutes."
Ardelia, you don't have - " but it was too late. The dialing-tone announced that Mapp had hung up.
"Shit!" Clarice threw the receiver away from her as though it were a poisonous spider. "We are in trouble."
"What is it, Clarice?"
"I've got the best part of Jack Crawford sitting in my garage, you in my bed and Ardelia's on her way over."
The doctor chuckled as he rose and began to dress. "Hardly the *best* part, my dear. And I'm out of your bed. Don't worry about Jacky boy or Miss Mapp. I'll take care of it."
"You are NOT going to 'take care of' Ardelia. She's my friend. I'd appreciate it if you dumped Jack somewhere, though."
He bowed. "Your every wish is my command, fair lady." Then he was gone from the room, whistling the Goldberg Variations to himself.
*He's getting very playful all of a sudden. Like a tiger - plays with its food before it eats it*
Starling laughed to herself. She enjoyed Dr Lecter's unusual brand of humour. It took an unusual sort of person to appreciate it.
Dressing hurriedly, she followed him downstairs. Passing the dining room, she realised that the candles and stuff from last night's dinner were still out. Shrugging, she closed the door. Ardelia had no business going in the dining room anyway. She reached the kitchen. He had put the kettle on. Sounds from the garage indicated that the doctor was having trouble with the garage door. It tended to stick at awkward moments. Like now.
Dr Lecter glared at the uncooperative garage door, and unusually, he swore. It was fluent Italian, but there was no way that it could be anything but a curse. The mortal remains of Jack Crawford stood behind him, still strapped to its trolley. It was most inconvenient that the door should choose to jam at this precise moment. Not even his great strength could budge it. Dr Lecter shook his head in annoyance and started to look about for a can of oil.
A sudden bright, yellow light glared from outside, under the garage door. Dr Lecter heard the boom of a powerful engine and the squeal of tyres as a car pulled into Starling's drive. He suddenly smiled. Special Agent Mapp had decided to join the party.
Starling, pacing to and fro in the living room, jumped as she heard the car pull up. Crawford's body was still in the garage. If Ardelia started to look around, what could she do? The doorbell rang. Clarice took a very deep breath as she went to answer it.
On the doorstep stood Mapp and another agent Starling didn't recognise.
"Hi" she said.
Ardelia stared at her. "Jesus, Clarice. You look awful."
Clarice smiled weakly. "Thanks, girl."
"This is Agent Peters, he's new to Behavioural Science. Peters, this is Clarice Starling."
Peters held out his hand. "It's an honour to meet you, Miss Starling. Your profile on Lecter is incredible. I've read it cover to cover. I'm sure we'll catch him this time."
Starling gave him a cold stare. "Are you? He's a difficult man to catch, Agent Peters, and I can *gaurentee* that he's smarter than you are. If my profile is so incredible, why did the Bureau drop me like a hot damn coal?"
Agent Peters seemed nonplussed. Clarice earned a 'what's with you, girl?' look from Ardelia, who slipped past her into the hallway. Starling held the door wide open and gestured for Peters to follow Mapp in.
*Come into my parlour...Ha. Hannibal is NOT going to like the overconfident Mr Peters, that's for sure. I hope for his sake that he doesn't put a foot out of line. As long as Hannibal stays out of sight, and they don't check the premesis, we're okay. Okay? Sugar, you are in trouble, and you know it.*
"Ardelia, want some coffee? How about you, Agent Peters?"
Mapp nodded. "Sure. Starling, can Peters check around? Just to be on the safe side."
Clarice tried a laugh. "Ardi, you think I'm sheltering a wanted criminal or something? I haven't heard from him since Krendler's place. Sure, Agent Peters can check around." She smirked. "Be sure to check the wardrobe. And under the bed."
Ardelia frowned. "Girl, you're not taking this seriously, are you? I know you've had a rough time and all, but aren't you even worried that Lecter might come after you?"
*Not really* "Ardelia, I'm tired and I'm upset. To tell you the truth, I couldn't give a damn. If he wanted to kill me, I'd probably already be dead." She steered Mapp out of the kitchen and into the living room, as far away from the garage as possible.
The expression on Agent Mapp's face was priceless, Starling thought. Upstairs, they could hear floorboards and cupboard doors creaking as Mapp's partner searched for hidden bogeymen.
Ardelia suddenly looked at her friend. "Where's your boyfriend?"
"Outside, checking the garden" Clarice lied.
"You told him, then. Is he nice? Good lookin'?"
Clarice grinned. "Oh yeah. Ardi, he's wonderful, and I'm not kidding. So, what's with the rookie?"
"Peters? He's okay. You could have been a bit nicer to him, girl. He'll shape up to be a good profiler, I think. Not a Crawford or Graham, but he'll do fine."
"You don't think you're dropping him in at the deep end, putting him on this case?"
"Like Crawford did with you? Maybe the Lecter case is tough on a rookie, but it can't be any tougher than meeting the doctor face to face, can it?"
Peters arrived then, to report the complete lack of criminals hiding out in Starling's wardrobe.
"Check the garage" Mapp said. "I didn't think he'd be here, but he's a cunning son of a bitch."
Starling shifted uneasily in her seat. He was in the garage. If he hid, okay. Peters life expectancy would be measured in miliseconds if he saw Dr Lecter, though. Or if he saw Crawford. And there was no way he could miss *that*.
Special Agent Peters of the FBI entered Clarice Starling's kitchen, still smarting from the way she had spoken to him. So what if she had written the definitive profile on the world's most infamous serial killer? So what if she knew Lecter better than anyone else? It didn't mean that he wasn't capable of catching Hannibal the Cannibal himself. Was she jealous? He'd never believed the rumours that there was something between Lecter and Starling, that she was romantically attached to the monster.
Peters let himself into the garage. It was dark and smelt of car oil and damp. He fumbled along the wall, looking for a light switch. Eventually he found one. He pressed it and it went 'ping'. No light came on. Peters swore. He'd left his flashlight in the kitchen. Turning to go back, he walked into something solid. The something - or someone - pinned him to the wall with a single movement. Peters felt a hand press across his mouth, then a sudden, bright light blinded him.
Dr Lecter, armed with the agent's flashlight and his own Harpy, considered the unfortunate man before him. Peters eyes were wide with terror. Now accustomed to the light, he could see who had him. The doctor smiled at the terrified young man.
"Good morning. No, don't try to struggle. You'll only make things worse." He slipped his hand inside Peters jacket, withdrawing first the gun, which he tucked into the back of his jeans. Then he extracted Peters ID, flipping it open and reading aloud. "Special Agent William Peters. Well well. I knew a Will once. A good looking young man, like yourself." He grinned. "That was before Francis Dolarhyde went to work on his face, however. I've since been reliably informed that he looks like Picasso drew him."
Peters whimpered.
"Oh, don't worry, William. May I call you that? Or do you prefer Will? I don't plan to do a Picasso on your face."
Any comfort Peters may have taken from that was dispelled when Dr Lecter leant in close to him. "I'm going to disembowel you instead. You see, I *don't* like Williams."
Lecter's hand moved fast. The wickedly sharp Harpy appeared between his fingers from it's hiding-place in his sleeve. It darted up Peters midriff and flowers of blood bloomed on the FBI agent's white shirt-front. The man's muffled scream trailed off into a wet gurgle as he died. Dr Lecter held Peters against the wall until he had stopped twitching, then he let him slump to the floor. The doctor raised one red hand and ran his long tongue across it, savouring the copper taste of blood. The floor had become a pool of blood and body fluids, with Peters lying in the middle of it all, his bowels in his lap, looking like a grotesque puppet with its strings cut.
Clarice Starling and Ardelia Mapp sat in Starling's living room, waiting for Agent Peters.
"Where the hell is he?" Ardelia asked for the second time.
Starling shrugged. "Maybe he's gone outside" she said, praying that he had gone outside.
"He went in the garage" Ardelia said, getting up. "Maybe we'd better check." She went into the kitchen, crossing to the little door. It was shut. There was no light on in the garage. "Where the fuck is he?" She opened the door and sticking her head around it, she called "Peters?" into the dark.
Starling tried to grin. "Maybe he's gone out for a sneaky cigarette."
Mapp gave her a withering look and pulled out her flashlight. "I'm gonna look for him. Coming?"
"Don't go in there, Ardelia." It slipped out before Starling could stop it. She got another odd look from Mapp, who chose to ignore her. Clarice held her breath as Ardelia switched on the powerful torch. Its beam swept quickly across the dark garage, illuminating shelves, boxes and sacks on the floor. The beam stopped. Ardelia moved the light back slowly across the floor until it rested on the sacks. They wern't sacks.
Beside her, Clarice heard Mapp gasp. "Holy God" she whispered as the hand that held the flashlight shook, causing the light to dance over the lake of blood on the garage floor. Starling didn't know what to say.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Ardelia swept the torchbeam back along the walls, slowly as if dreading a discovery. The FBI agent's free hand fumbled for her gun. Clarice felt for her own. *Where is he? And what's he done with Crawford?*
The Crawford question was answered soon enough, as Mapp took a few tentative steps into Starling's garage. Her flashlight now illuminated the furthest corner and revealed an upright shape attached to a hand trolley. Dr Lecter had stuffed Crawford into the darkest corner and removed the light. Always conscious of appearences, the doctor had put a plastic Safeways bag over Crawford's head so Clarice would be spared the sight of his features. That, and the bin bag stuffed where, until recently, his heart had been, contrived to make the late Jack Crawford look more than slightly ridiculous.
Ardelia reached out with one shaking hand to pull the plastic away, but Starling's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. "Don't do it, Ardi" Clarice warned. "You're not going to like what you see."
Ardelia stared at her, her eyes widening. "You knew, didn't you. You knew Lecter had killed him, before he'd even been reported missing. You KNEW, you bitch. Where is he?" She waved her gun about wildly.
"Ardelia - what can I say?"
"You can start by telling me WHY" Mapp growled. Now the gun was pointed steadily at Clarice.
Clarice shrugged. "He loves me" she said quietly. "I love him. That's it. We *need* each other, Ardelia."
"He told you he loves you? And you believed him? Was that before or after you chowed down on Jack Crawford?"
"It doesn't matter. Put the gun down, Ardi. I don't want you to get hurt."
"No way" Ardelia snapped. "Back into the kitchen, Starling."
Starling said nothing, but turned and walked slowly back to the kitchen door, the muzzle of Mapp's gun pressed against her neck. Ardelia could barely keep her hand from shaking. The shock she felt at her best friend's betrayal was nothing to the grief.
The cold blade of a knife touched the back of Mapp's neck as they reached the door. A voice that she'd only ever heard on tape whispered "Drop the gun, Agent Mapp" into her ear.
A cold shiver ran down Mapp's spine at the sound of that voice. The knife dug in a little more. Finally: "Alright, alright. I'm putting the gun down." Mapp was pleased to note that her voice was steady.
As soon as the gun left her neck, Clarice turned. Ardelia stood stock still in the kitchen door. Dr Lecter's knife now rested against her throat. She was trying to breathe. Dr Lecter looked over Mapp to Starling, and winked at her. Clarice tried not to smile as she stooped to pick up the gun. She'd never before seen Mapp look even remotely scared about anything.
"Do you think I can let go of you, Agent Mapp? Will you be sensible?"
Ardelia made a cautious affermative "uh huh" sound. Chuckling, Dr Lecter released her. She stumbled away from him, towards Starling, then pulled up short as she looked from one to the other.
Dr Lecter studied the woman. "What shall we do with you, Ardelia? It seems that we've been discovered. Clarice and I will have to leave soon, and I'm afraid that we can hardly leave witnesses."
Clarice sighed. She'd been afraid this would happen. *You knew this would be part and parcel of being with him. You can't expect him to change overnight, just because of you. You don't even know if he would stop. Remember what you said? You'd never ask him to stop. Not in a thousand years, remember? Yes? Good. You're gonna have to deal, Honey. And that means dealing with this.*
Starling shook her head. "I'm sorry, Ardelia. I love you." She raised the gun, a well-worn Colt 45 like her own, and fired.
AN/ I love doing the gory scenes. Sorry if you like Ardelia, she didn't really deserve that, I know. One more chapter to go. Be nice and review:)
Ta,
Screaming Ferret.