The coffee shop was quaint, one she could consider
herself a regular customer. It wasn't
the quality of the product – more or less the convenience of location. Starling's duplex was a comfortable jog from
here. Though she wasn't in the habit of
exercising in the city – surrounded by traffic, pollution, rude faces, and
obscene gestures – getting coffee that exceeded the taste of homemade skills
was appealing in any light.
But today, Starling wore a business suit, as she
subconsciously avoided dresses. Instead
of jogging to the door, she walked nicely after slipping out of her
Mustang. She didn't know why she
suggested this coffee shop; the name was with her when he called, requesting an
audience. Perhaps it was because at the
time she was thinking of what she might do with the rest of her day.
Inside, she didn't bother ordering. Her appetite had abandoned her.
It didn't take long identifying her party. Cordell Doemling, the late Mason Verger's
private physician, waved her over. He
had wisely chosen a secluded corner booth. Nearly pausing in stride, Starling took the time to ask herself why
privacy was needed for this. Perhaps
for she feared the nature of the conversation ahead.
She hoped this wouldn't last too long. There was still packing to do for the
upcoming trip.
The same feeling of dread that she had ignored for the
past three days crept up her spine once more, demanding to be acknowledged. Starling let out a breath, disconcerted to
note she was trembling, and particularly not about this meeting.
Cordell started to stand when as she approached, but
she motioned that wasn't necessary. Not
feeling obligated to flash a smile, especially considering the nature of their
last meeting; she let out a heavy breath and took her seat. The reaction of feeling her skin crawl was
nearly natural, knowing how close this man was to Mason Verger – had been to Mason
Verger. That demented freak of human
being, and not simply regarding his face, who attempted to torture Dr. Lecter
to death.
Starling shook her head as though trying to free
herself of that thought. It proved a
fruitless activity.
"Hello, Agent Starling."
"Good afternoon."
He smiled nicely as though they were old friends. "How have you been?"
"I've been managing. And yourself? Find new work?"
Nodding, he took a sip of his coffee. "I've decided to avoid wealthy benefactors,
despite how good the pay is. I found
work prescribing antibiotics to nursing home attendants. It's nice, and the patients aren't quite
as…"
"Twisted?"
Hmm…that was Dr. Lecter's wording.
"Couldn't have put it better myself."
That made her smile until she remembered where the
insight originated. Again, she shook
her head, wanting desperately to forget that day. All that day. The longest
day of her life.
"Well, Mr. Doemling, not to get directly to business,
but I must ask…" Starling deliberately
avoided addressing him as doctor, though she knew he had earned it through
years of medical school. Searching for
reaction, she found none. For some
reason, the events he assisted in conspiracy against her made him less worthy
of that honorable title. He sensed it,
too, and offered no complaint.
"Yes, I can imagine you're busy. You've been reassigned to the case, as I
understand."
Starling's eyes narrowed. "How did you know that?"
"Word travels fast on the streets. Especially anything to do with Lecter."
He received a knowing look. "You mean," she corrected, "anything concerning Lecter and me,
right?"
"You said it; not me."
"In the end, who says what means little. We all know what you're really saying, don't
we?" Starling sighed and averted her
eyes to the window, as if dreaming her escape. Talking about what happened was easier than it seemed. It was thinking about what she was saying
that was the difficult part. "I suspect
it's the opinion of everyone in this town."
"This town? You credit yourself short, Agent Starling," Cordell retorted. "I heard in Ashville. That's quite a ways away."
"So I gather." Letting out another deep breath, she sat back, wishing he would hurry to
the point of this meeting. Maybe she
needed a cup of coffee after all.
As though he read her thoughts, he continued. "I'll get to the point. You have your case to return to. I asked you here for a few reasons. Firstly, and this is an area of terrific
concern…have the authorities any follow-ups on Mr. Verger's death?"
Starling frowned, tilting her head slightly,
perceiving his gaze and trying to analyze it. After a minute, it was all too clear. "Ahh…I see. It wasn't Dr. Lecter
at all, was it? You pushed him into
that pigpen."
"I wish I weren't so easily read."
"If it makes you feel any better, I never thought he
had the time to do away with Mr. Verger and get out of there, given the hours
the police have decided these events occurred within," Starling replied. That was the truth. Though she had never blatantly suspected
Cordell of misdemeanor, it was rather rewarding to note she knew Dr. Lecter
well enough to firstly assume he would never allow wild boars do his killings
for him, and also that she had some grasp on the way things went that
night. "Don't worry, Mr. Doemling, I
won't tell if you won't. Mr. Verger was
not exactly my favorite interviewee.
"Tell me…did Dr. Lecter suggest you kill him? Did he ask for the blame?"
Evidently pained by the memory, the man nodded. "Yes. I wonder why I listened…there was no point in killing him, Agent Starling. He wanted me to shoot Lecter…but Lecter was
holding you. I have enough faith in my
aim to have missed you, but that's not the point. Mason couldn't have easily killed me for violating his command,
as you well know. I don't understand
how I was so easily influenced…"
"I think you saw what he was capable of, even confined
to that wheelchair," Starling offered helpfully. "You saw people being consumed alive by wild boars, and knew it
was because of your patient, and your part. Maybe you just didn't want to be apart of the madness anymore. Either way, Mr. Doemling, I wouldn't
worry. Enough confusion happened that
night to excuse any suspicion of your part in his death. The authorities seem content to believe Dr.
Lecter was the cause."
A visible weight of burden vacated Cordell's
eyes. He looked tormented still by
committing the crime, but understandably relieved to avoid any legal troubles
the death might bring.
It was perhaps the first time justice failed to appeal
to Starling. Mason Verger was kook, a
dangerous one at that. More so than Dr.
Lecter, if that was possible.
It *was* possible. She had seen it.
She sighed. In
her life, she had seen things no person should ever see, been though what no
one should ever endure. Met people others
had only seen in horror movies. Been
there, most certainly done that.
And this is my life, she reflected sourly.
"The other thing on my mind, Agent Starling," Cordell
continued, drawing her out of her reverie, "is ashamedly my curiosity."
Expressing no surprise at this confession, Starling
nodded her acknowledgement briefly to the side. "I see. What is it you
want to know?"
"Why are you going after him? After what you went through?" His voice offered no softening quality to
the question she had tormented herself over for the past three days. In a perverse way, she was glad this inquiry
came from someone she could answer without fearing for her mental
stability.
"It's the easiest way to get reinstated," she retorted
simply, hating the way those words flowed off her tongue. "Otherwise I'll be piled under paperwork,
basically starting at square one…and…"
Stop talking…why are you still talking? Good thing you skipped breakfast this
morning.
"Listen, Agent Starling, I had my own theories on Lecter. Of course. We all did," Cordell said, leaning in as though the topic were vastly
important. "Mason used you to get to
him, I know you already knew that, but…" He sighed. It was obvious this was something difficult to say. "It was in his opinion that you were
attractive to Lecter when you were distressed. That's why we went through all that trouble with Krendler. It made him happy, too. Part of the bargaining."
Letting out an exasperated breath, Starling took the
time to lick her lips, as though tasting the query, considering. After a minute, she nodded, chuckling a bit
as her eyes widened. "Well, Mr.
Doemling…I'd say Mason was right about that. Dr. Lecter certainly likes to see me distressed."
"No, no, that's not it at all, really, though I can
imagine why you'd think so. That's what
I wanted to tell you," Cordell quickly corrected her, an almost defensive look
coming over him. "If he wanted you
distressed, I'd imagine he would have left you to those pigs, don't you
think? Why bother at all?"
"To see how he might rub salt on the wound," Starling
snickered, though her voice lacked conviction. In reality, she knew the truth as well as Cordell did, and that was what
*really* frightened her.
He made the wise decision in avoiding comment on the
obvious state of her feelings, nodding his excusal as he tried to think of a
way to get back on topic. There was
something he really wanted to say but was having trouble paving the path for. Almost tempted to ask him bluntly, Starling
decided against it. To make it known
that his discomfort was notably recognized would be rude.
And we all know what happens to the rude.
This time, she didn't bother shaking her head. Some thoughts were unstoppable.
"I think…" he said, voice hesitant, evidently unsure
of his wording, "that Mason suspected Dr. Lecter would do away with you, should
he have the chance. He asked me if I
thought Lecter wanted to fuck, kill, or eat you. He used those words, if you'll pardon the vulgarity. I don't mean to offend."
In reply, Starling's nose wrinkled. Though the reason seemed obvious, she wished
she knew why.
When she didn't answer, he let out a breath to
continue. "I told him most likely all
three, though in what order I wavered to predict. The point is, Agent Starling, I knew differently when he failed
to let you be consumed. Even behind the
mask, I suppose I saw something significant. I've been in medicine long enough to recognize something when I see it."
"That's well and good," Starling said finally, likewise
releasing a breath. "But what relevance
does it have?"
"I thought it might help you catch him."
That peaked her interest. Arching an eyebrow, she cocked her head to the side, suddenly
coy. "Oh? How might such information help us capture him?" Apart of her already knew, but confirmation
was appreciated.
"The knowledge that he doesn't want to see you hurt,
of course," Cordell replied casually. "I'm not entirely clear how law enforcement works, but do take that into
consideration."
She nodded to show her appreciation, but in actuality,
he was saying little that wasn't already documented in Dr. Lecter's
ever-growing case file. "Thank you, Mr.
Doemling, but I have known for some time that Dr. Lecter would not hurt
me. He gave me his personal reassurances
on that matter over a decade ago."
"It wasn't to insinuate that he would, Agent
Starling. I known that, too, as does
most of the public. You're quite
popular with this matter, as you can well see. No, no I mean if you were somehow threatened, he might come out…allow
himself to get clumsy as he was at Union Station." Cordell's head followed hers in direction, eyes imploring her for
an answer, or acknowledgement of what he said. He spoke as though he had been there, listening to the words Dr. Lecter
told her moments prior to his abduction.
What he said was very well true, and Starling knew it
was an excellent strategy with which to tackle the problem. But something within her refused to take the
idea into tangible light, to make it real. No…she felt, even with backup, that this was something she should
do herself. Either they exclude her
completely, or send her alone. If she
wasn't there, seeing him in a position of pain – or Heaven forbid – even death
would do little more than send her shivers, perhaps a little remorse. There, in person, she knew watching him die
would make her ache, for reasons she didn't know, and if she did, refused to
accept. With her in there, she knew he
would not only refrain from hurting her, *he* would also evade injury, at least
until he was out of her sight.
Cordell's input, though, was more useful than she
allowed herself to admit. The things he
said of the late Mason Verger and his plans concerning Dr. Lecter that went so
astray. Now she had words to go along
with the plotting, with what that twisted shell of a man had had in mind for
her. It made her fists clinch. She found many things did these days.
"Agent Starling?"
Again, he had to coax her from her daydream. "Yes?"
It was clear they were no longer discussing her
upcoming mission, and for that she was glad. Further talk of Dr. Lecter's fate was destined to make her scream. "Do you think I'm a bad person for what I
did to Mason? He trusted me and I
killed him."
Smiling kindly, or at least trying to, Starling shook
her head. "No…I don't. I believe you were dragged into his ploy
prematurely, and were in too deep when you realized what his intentions were. Dr. Lecter offered you a way out, and you
took it. Though against the fifth
commandment, I don't think ridding the world of one madman at the expense of
another really amounts to much, unless you're Catholic."
Her words soothed him visibly. Ten years peeled from his face as he offered
an appreciative nod. "Thank you, Agent
Starling."
A moment passed before she felt it appropriate to
speak again. "If that is all, I do
believe I'll be leaving." Without
awaiting her reply, Starling rose, slinging her purse over her shoulder. Cordell stood as well to meet her. They shook hands.
"I was wondering…" Cordell said softly, so softly she
feared he would ask her on a date. The
words that followed were a relief. "You
said Dr. Lecter offered me a way out of something destructive, something I put
time in and was in too deeply to make a good escape when I discovered it wasn't
what I originally foresaw. Was that
what you meant, to paraphrase?"
She nodded. "Yes."
"Then Agent Starling, I must ask. What did he offer *you*?"
Her heart abruptly stopped and she felt her eyes widen
on impulse. It took a rightful two or
three seconds to find her voice, and she was discouraged to hear her
instability. "What?"
The man before her offered a sheepish smile. "Well, like I said I've been in the medical
industry long enough to note something, even if I'm not a psychologist. The Bureau's hurt you. It's obvious. I must wonder what escape Lecter presented to you before he left,
to help you away from the damage. Tell
me?"
It was clear this question was more for his benefit,
further confirmation of her prior reassurances that he was not a despicable
human being. But his words cut, cut
deeply. She felt something sting. Not regret, but a feeling that equaled its
sour taste.
She twitched her discomfort.
"Good day, Mr. Doemling," she said shortly. Not wanting him to counter with another
question, she took an abrupt spin and hurried out of sight.
* * *