Ticket for a long journey - Part 5/6

Clarice just sat there staring at the phone thinking.

*He still is interested, please let him be more than just playing around.*

Now - she had a cell phone for which she needed a code number, this code was to be in a second locker at one of London's other airports. There were three more Clarice thought, Stansted - Gatwick and Luton. She had to get information how she could reach those. Clarice looked at her watch. It was still very early in the afternoon. She'd have enough time left to look for this locker today and would search for a hotel later. Suddenly she realized that there was one major problem - she had NO KEY - the old one definitely won't fit, she thought with a smirk.

'Well thank you Doctor, where the hell have you put that key, hum?' Clarice said, shaking her head. She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips.

'What is going on in that mind of yours!'

An idea flashed through her head. 'Of course' she called out loudly. Clarice turned hastily to her right side and picked up the box. She placed it on her lap then stroked over its cold surface, thinking that sometime ago Hannibal had probably done the same. It was as if she developed a secret connection to him, as if touching his hands instead of the gleaming varnish of the small wooden box. She opened it up to find that beautiful crimson velvet fabric. With the very tips of her fingers she stroked the delicate material. Slowly, she lifted it up hoping all the time that beneath she would find the second key, another letter or at least any hint that could help her.

Clarice exhaled slowly. There was something: it was another slip of paper and it was wrapped around something. 'Oh thank God' Starling said to herself nervously. She raised it carefully and unwrapped it. - The KEY - and a note:

---------------------

Well done, my dear! This time it's number 36. Good luck. Hear you soon, hopefully! H.

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Clarice smiled. She could almost see his face: smiling at her with his magnificent eyes stinging right into her soul. She could hardly wait to look into those eyes again, talk to him again - the need was so unbearable it almost hurt. Her whole body trembled in anticipation.

Clarice hid her sorrow deep down in her conscious. She picked up all her belongings: 'Let's find that locker!' her words were echoing in the deserted hall filled with only left-luggage lockers.

Clarice went to the information desk again. Apparently, it seemed to be her lucky day. The very helpful assistant knew both which airport it should be and he also told her how to get there. It was so comforting letting someone else do all the work for her. She literally didn't have to lift a finger.

Seventy minutes later she arrived at Stansted airport, found the locker right away, opened it up and produced once more an envelope sealed with wax. It occurred to her like standard procedure. The envelope contained two sheets of paper: the first one, the Doctor's unmistakably elegant stationary and another document. Firstly, she opened his letter, clearly. She started reading.

--~°--~°--~°--~°

Clarice,

our reunion is coming closer. This lesson in patience is becoming quite hard to endure, even for me. The prospect to finally be able to look at you again rather than writing to you, although that itself is quite satisfying, overtakes my strength.

However, enclosed you'll find the code for the cell phone. I will call you soon.

ta ta, H.L.

PS: I took the liberty to book a hotel room in London for you. I hope you don't mind. Relax, Clarice - soon. Oh, not that I forget: the code is 3101.

--~°--~°--~°--~°

Clarice took the cell phone to enter the code. It beeped twice and the network BT2 appeared in the display. Her heartbeat accelerated with the wonderful knowledge that she soon would hear that hypnotizing voice again. Starling adjusted the volume to highest level and put it into her purse so that she wouldn't miss the probably most important call in her life. She briefly checked the other document, it was a reservation for the hotel in London she was supposed to stay. The 10 Manchester Street Hotel near Bakerstreet.

A tiring one hour ride from the airport brought her to her hotel. She enjoyed the elegant comfort of the petite hotel, although she had to admit she had expected something far more spectacular of him.

Clarice took a shower. She used the shower gel and shampoo from Escada provided by the hotel. It smelled beautifully. Clarice felt fresh and clean. The phone was close to her all the time, she had put it on the sink near the shower, but as far as Dr. Hannibal Lecter was concerned he would very likely give her a suitable time to come to rest. She expected his call sometime in the evening. Clarice smiled to herself while she thought about him.

Minutes later she stood in front of the bathroom mirror brushing her now dry hair until it fell down on her shoulders like a shiny, silky veil. She wore a long dark blue satin nightgown. It was the only expensive nightgown she'd ever bought herself. It had thin straps and a nice décolleté. She looked down at herself in the mirror quite satisfied with what she saw.

Clarice tilted her head a little to one side and stoked over the smooth fabric. Sighing she turned around picked up the phone and went out of the bathroom. She closed the door behind her switching off the lights in the bathroom.

Agent Starling took a look at her watch and realized that two and a half hours ago she had found the code at Stansted. He hadn't called yet, but she was certain he would any minute. She sat down on the bed, got under the covers and leaned against the wall. There was only one thing to do now - wait.

At the same time the little phone in her lap rang. It gave her a real fright, she just hadn't expected it just then. Her heart was pounding. With quivering fingers she picked it up and answered it, holding it to her ear carefully:

"Well hello, Clarice!"