Title: Ardelia's Ordeal
Author: A.A.Aaron
Timeline: End of book Hannibal. Consistent with canon.
She opened her eyes to strange surroundings. For a moment she was disoriented. Then recognition.
I'm in a hospital. What happened? What am I doing here?
There was nobody in sight to answer her questions. The only movement was the steady silent revolution of the second hand on the wall clock. It showed the time to be 2:15 but she couldn't tell if it was a.m. or p.m….or, for that matter, what the date was.
She started to vocalize her thoughts but it was too much effort. Besides, she was safe here.
Safe? What am I safe from?
Thinking was too exhausting. She allowed herself to drift off into slumber again.
When she awoke, the clock showed 3:10. She had been sleeping for nearly an hour (or was it 13 hours?). She was feeling a little more clear-headed and tried to organize her slowly recovering memories.
My name is Ardelia Mapp. I am a Special Agent of the FBI. My best friend, Clarice Starling, and I had shared a duplex. She had recently been suspended from the FBI while a framed up charge against her was being investigated. This was about three years ago.
I had arranged a party for Clarice's upcoming thirty-third birthday but she never made it. She had spotted Dr. Hannibal Lecter being kidnapped and was sure that it was Mason Verger's doing – that he was planning to torture Dr. Lecter to death. She immediately reported this to her superiors at the Bureau, but their cursory investigation was fruitless. Clarice then went to Verger's estate, Muskrat Farms, apparently in some quixotic attempt to rescue Dr. Lecter. I never saw her again.
Ardelia was feeling drowsy again. She considered going to the bathroom but decided that of the several pieces of plumbing attached to her, one was attending to that function. She dozed off. When she awoke it was 4:10.
Ardelia Mapp now found herself recalling the FBI attempts to reconstruct the events at Muskrat Farms. After the wild boars were through devouring and dragging off pieces of bodies, it was impossible to determine how many people had died. Neither Clarice Starling's nor Dr. Hannibal Lecter's body or body parts had been identified. It was later determined that Dr. Lecter had survived when a letter from him was received.
Oh Clarice, baby; what happened to you here? Are you alive? Did the wild boars consume you? Or are you Dr.Lecter's captive being subjected to God knows what atrocities?
The discovery in the Muskrat Farms barn of the .45 Colt registered to the late John Brigham, now known to be the property of Clarice Starling, was a considerable embarrassment to the Bureau.
Starling was listed as missing, but the case was not carried as a kidnapping. She was not even an agent missing from active duty. Starling was an agent on suspension, whose whereabouts were unknown. A bulletin was issued for her vehicle, but with no special emphasis on the owner's identity.
Kidnapping commands much more effort from law enforcement than a missing person case. The classification made Adelia Mapp so angry she wrote her letter of resignation to the Bureau, then thought it better to wait and work from within.
Mapp badgered everyone of influence she could reach in the Bureau since Starling disappeared. She called Behavioral Science and was told Crawford remained in Jefferson Memorial Hospital with chest pains. She did not call him there. In the Bureau, he was Starling's last supporter.
Ardelia Mapp became the de facto resident expert on Hannibal Lecter by default; no one else seemed to be interested in taking an active role in tracking him down. The consensus was that he was either dead or holed up somewhere; there was no longer bait available to lure him out. There was a mild stir when a letter arrived from Dr. Lecter taunting Margot and boasting of how he had killed her brother.
Ardelia took over the maintenance of Clarice's 'Hannibal's House," the repository for FBI evidence on Dr. Lecter. She continued Starling's program of collecting data on multiple purchases of products known to be favored by Lecter. However, she was not optimistic of it leading anywhere; Dr. Lecter was unlikely to fall into predictable buying habits again.
Barney had the three to eleven shift at Misericordia. It was nearly midnight when he reached his apartment and turned on the light. Ardelia Mapp sat at his kitchen table. She was pointing a black semiautomatic pistol at his face.
"Sit down, Nursey," Mapp said. "Pull your chair over there and tip back against the wall."
I ought to be ashamed of myself, bullying that sweet man. Yeah, I guess I am a little, but if he knows anything I want it now.
There was another pistol on the place mat before her. It was a Colt Woodsman .22 with a plastic pop bottle taped to the muzzle as a silencer.
"Do you know anything about Clarice Starling?"
"No."
Mapp picked up the small-caliber gun. "I'm not fucking around with you, Barney. The second I think you're lying, I'm gonna darken your stool; do you believe me?"
"Yes
"I'm going to ask you again. Do you know anything that would help me find Clarice Starling? The post office says you had your mail forwarded to Mason Verger's place for a month. What the fuck, Barney?"
"I worked up there. I was taking care of Mason Verger, and he asked me all about Lecter. I didn't like it up there and I quit. Mason was pretty much of a bastard."
"Starling's gone away."
"I know."
"Maybe Lecter took her, maybe the pigs got her. If he took her what would he do with her?"
"I'm being honest with you – I don't know. I'd help Starling if I could. Why wouldn't I? I kind of liked her and she was getting me expunged. Look in her reports or notes or – "
"I have. I want you to understand something, Barney. This is a one-time-only offer. If you know anything you better tell me now. If I ever find out, no matter how long from now, that you held out something that might have helped, I will come back here and this gun will be the last thing you ever see. I will kill your big ugly ass. Do you believe me?"
"Yes."
"Do you know anything?
"No."
There was a long silence. "Just sit still there until I'm gone."
Ardelia decided to interview Mason Verger's sister Margot.
I don't think I'd have much luck trying to intimidate this one as I did poor Barney.
"I'm trying to determine what happened to Clarice Starling."
"I'm not sure how I can help you," said Margot. "By the time I got there the remains had been dragged off by the pigs."
"Except for the bodies within the house?" Ardelia made it a question.
"Of course. ..My brother and Cordell."
"How would you describe your brother's physical condition….before he was murdered," she added hastily.
"He was completely helpless; nearly paralyzed from the neck down. Just a little movement left in one hand. He would have been completely defenseless against Dr. Lecter."
"You're aware of the bit of Dr. Lecter's scalp found under your brother's fingernails and the several hairs entwined in his fingers."
"Yes."
"That's the part that has me puzzled. With your brother so weak, where did he get the strength to pull even a few hairs from Lecter?"
Margot shrugged. "I haven't the foggiest notion. But I assume that even someone almost completely paralyzed might thresh about a bit with a Moray eel stuffed down his throat. Anyhow, I assume that the investigation was wrapped up when Dr. Lecter's letter arrived boasting of the murder."
She's hiding something. I'll just try goosing her a little to see what turns up.
"I understand that by the terms of your father's will a descendent of his would inherit the estate after your brother's death.. With your brother dead, that leaves only you to produce an heir."
"As it happens, we had an arrangement. My brother donated sperm to inseminate my companion. It's all perfectly legitimate and within the intent of the will, but you can understand our reluctance to let the supermarket tabloids get hold of that part of the story. We're trying to retain some of what's left of our privacy."
Hmmm…. None of this turned up in the police reports. Pretty sloppy for a homicide investigation to miss the potential motive here. Still, with Dr. Lecter's confession there was no reason for them to continue the investigation.
"A guy named Barney worked for your brother for about a month. Did you have much contact with him?"
"We worked out together in the gym a few times. Really, Agent Mapp; is there any purpose to these questions?"
Probably not. But to keep the case open, I like to stir things up a bit.
"Thank you, Miss Verger. You've been very helpful."
It has been two years since Clarice Starling disappeared. Ardelia Mapp continued to file the occasional report of a Hannibal sighting. In her private life she still dated extensively, but it was not nearly as much fun without someone to discuss it with afterward.
Ardelia received a small package with an untraceable wrapper. Inside was an emerald set in a ring engraved with AM-CS. The note read: Dear Ardelia, I'm fine and better than fine. Don't look for me. I love you. I'm sorry I scared you. Burn this. Starling.
Ardelia took the ring to the Shenandoah River angry, hot-eyed, ready to throw the ring in the water. In the end she put it on her finger and shoved her fist in her pocket. Mapp doesn't cry much. She walked a long way, until she could be quiet.
The voice inside her was mocking: Isn't that thoughtful. "I'm sorry I scared you. Don't look for me." What the hell does she think I've been doing for the last two years?
Another voice inside was taking up the defense. This isn't the Clarice I knew. She's had two years of bainwashing. Anyone can be broken. She needs you now more than ever.
Ardelia made her decision. She would do whatever was within the reach of her arm to rescue her friend from the monster that had anchored itself in her mind.
For some unknown reason, her thoughts flashed to a joking exchange she had with Clarice once long ago on the desirable qualities in a man:
"Dr. Pilcher called three times. Made me promise to tell you he called."
"He's not a doctor."
"You think you might do something about him?"
"Maybe. I don't know yet."
"He sounds like he's pretty funny. I've about decided funny's the best thing in men. I'm talking about aside from money and your basic manageability."
"Yeah, and manners too, you can't leave that out."
"Right. Give me a son of a bitch with some manners every time."
I wonder how manageable Dr. Lecter is. He seems to stack up pretty well otherwise. Manners, huh?
Ardelia fought against an overwhelming urge to giggle.
Ardelia Mapp opened her eyes again and found herself back in the hospital bed. The time was 4:55.
More memories recovered and in less time. I should be up-to-date soon.
She let herself doze off again.
Ardelia decided it was time to interview Barney again. She found the apartment locked and unoccupied. An inquiry with the post office showed that Barney had arranged to have his mail forwarded to his accountant, Arnold Hickey. Ardelia went to see Hickey. Hickey told her that Barney was taking a long vacation touring South America and Europe. Barney had no firm itinerary. The only restraint he was putting on his travels is that when they were completed he will have seen every Vermeer in the world. Hickey remarked with a chuckle, "Barney has already seen nine of the 36 known Vermeers. He particularly admired the concert in Mason Verger's private collection that he had sneaked a peek at."
.
Barney evidently came into some money. I'll look into its source – see if it has any bearing on my search. The business about the Vermeers has a definite Hannibal Lecter flavor.
"Do you have Barney's current location?"
"Yes; he flew in to Buenos Aires yesterday, and will probably be there for several weeks. Let me get you the name of his hotel."
Ardelia thanked him, and was out the door and waiting for the elevator when she heard him calling to her, "Oh, Agent Mapp; I'm so glad I caught you. I just received an Email from Barney. He's changed his plans. A few hours after arriving in Buenos Aires he changed his mind and flew to Rio. He writes that he walked out half way through an opera when he realized he had urgent business elsewhere." Hickey's expression grew somewhat puzzled. "Barney didn't even stay long enough to see the Vermeer."
Ardelia felt a pounding in her chest. There were a number of ways to explain Barney's behavior, but not to her mind. She had experienced an epiphany. She felt certain that Barney had spotted Dr. Lecter in Buenos Aires and, very sensibly, had decided to get the hell out of there.
That same day she and two backup agents were on their way to Buenos Aires to investigate what she reported as a Hannibal Lecter sighting. Cooperation with local authorities had been arranged.
These backup guys may prove to be a problem. They'll be handy for routine investigative work, but if we get close to Lecter there may be trouble. We have different agendas. Their goal is to capture or kill Lecter; mine is to rescue Clarice, whether she wants it or not. Well, we'll just have to reconcile our differences when the time comes.
The contact in Buenos Aires was a Police Captain Ramon Menendez. They started by going to the Teatro Colon opera house. Barney must have been sitting in the back row if he got a last-minute ticket. One of the ushers confirmed that a pair of back-row seats had been vacated at intermission. Knowing Dr. Lecter's taste, it was expected that he would have held box seats within sight of the vacated inexpensive seats. The ushers handling the potential candidates were questioned and shown pictures of Lecter and of Starling. No positive identifications were made. One of the occupants of a box resembled Lecter's picture but there were definite differences in the features. His woman was a glamorous blonde who didn't resemble Clarice's picture at all..
"Except that she also had a similar birthmark on her cheek," one of the ushers commented.
BINGO!
Her two subordinates didn't understand why Agent Mapp was so certain they had located Clarice Starling and Dr. Lecter. She didn't bother explaining.
I remember when Clarice's cheekbone was marked with that black spot – grains of burnt powder from the revolver of the late Jame Gumb – a mark the French call 'courage.'
A check of the opera house records showed that the box was held by season ticket holder Dr. Hamilton Bones. Captain Menendez knew him by reputation. The captain and Mapp considered their next step.
"He is too prominent to be taken into custody with what little evidence we have," said Captain Menendez, "He is a patron of the arts and a generous contributor to political campaigns."
"And we don't want to alert Dr.Lecter beforehand. He has a knack for disappearing."
They gathered around a topographic map provided by Captain Menendez.
"Dr.Bones leases an isolated estate about 70 kilometers from Buenos Aires. He lives there with his wife and servants and doesn't often come into the city. When he does it's usually to attend some cultural event. The estate has an emergency generator and a clinic. The estate is reached by a service road that connects to the main highway." Captain Menendez ran his index finger along the service road on the map. "There is a wooden bridge crossing a stream over here. The bridge is under repair and will continue to be out of service for cars for the next week or so. However, it can be crossed on foot, if necessary, and the estate is only 400 meters further on."
"Sergeant Menendez, I gather from what you said earlier that the problem with confronting Dr.Bones directly is mainly political. Would I be overstepping the bounds if I asked you to look for some way of getting the verification we need of his alternate identity? You know the legal system and the political situation here a lot better than I do. Do we need a sympathetic judge, a higher-up police official, the U.S. embassy, or what, to enable us to hold him long enough to check his fingerprints?"
"No problem, Agent Mapp. I will look into it."
Turning to her two backup agents, Ardelia said, "I'd like you gentlemen to think about a plan for confronting Dr.Bones, should he be uncooperative. Assume he is armed and will have hostages. I will be attending to some private business."
They nodded agreement. "Private business" was the current FBI euphemism for shady operations, pushing the bounds of legality. They would not expect to be told the details unless they were participants..
What a load of bullshit, but I guess they bought it. I have to keep those trigger-happy bozos away from Dr.Lecter until I'm sure that Clarice is safe.
After they separated, Ardelia rubbed the back of her neck. It was stiff, and she was feeling feverish. She swallowed two Tylenol tablets.
This is a helluva time to be coming down with a cold; but I'm not about to let it slow me down. I can do my resting after Clarice has been rescued.
Ardelia decided she had better reconnoiter Dr. Bones' estate to familiarize herself with the layout. She drove her rented Mustang down the highway and found the service road where the map said it would be. She turned onto it and drove about two miles to the wooden bridge. There was a cleared area around the bridge entrance where several cars and pickup trucks were parked. She parked there also and took her backpack. A repair crew was working on the bridge. The workers looked at her but made no comment as she started across on foot using the walkway. One of them said, "Good day, miss," politely, in Spanish, and she responded in kind.
The wooded area ended about 200 yards from the house. Remaining well behind tree cover, Ardelia worked her way slowly around the house. She detected glimpses of movement through the lower windows; the upper floors had the blinds drawn.
There was no way to watch the whole house at one time, of course. She decided on a relatively comfortable spot from which the front balcony and the right side of the building could be seen. She lay on her stomach with her forearms supporting her head. An odd jingle floated through her mind:
I lie prone
On my breast bone
You lie supine
Upon your spine
Weird! Did I just make that up?
She was still feeling feverish. She fished out two more Tylenol and swallowed them. Her head was beginning to ache.
There was movement on the front balcony. Ardelia readied her binoculars. The woman emerged and sat down at a table. The man followed pushing a food cart. They were dressed casually but tastefully. They served themselves moderate breakfasts of orange juice, eggs Benedict, toast and coffee. Ardelia took a chocolate bar from her backpack.
Ardelia had no difficulty recognizing Clarice Starling despite the superficial changes in appearance. The man was more difficult. His nose was more patrician than that in the photographs of Dr.Lecter, and the lips were fuller. She reminded herself that the FBI was probably one or two identities behind his current one. Clarice seemed happy. The brainwashing was evidently successful. Ardelia felt a surge of rage against the creature that had done this to her friend's mind.
Ardelia could hear faint sounds of music coming from the balcony. The man rose, held his hand out to the woman, and in a moment they were gliding gracefully across the balcony.
They're doing a goddam tango! Well, I guess we're in the right place in the world for it.
They finished their dance and left the balcony. A minute later the man reappeared at the front door, turned to his right and walked around the corner disappearing from her sight. This intrigued Ardelia. Separated they could be captured individually with a better chance of avoiding injury to Clarice. In fact, this looked like an opportune moment now.
Ardelia shrugged off the nausea that joined her other discomforts. She drew her gun and silently worked her way along the tree line toward the side of the house where the man had gone.
He's unsuspicious now. I'll be able to get close enough to get a clear shot. I'll give him a chance to surrender peacefully, but one wrong move and I shoot him…can't afford any hesitation. Once he's dead and officially identified, no one will care that I bent the rules a bit to get him.
Ardelia, moving deliberately and silently, reached a point where she could see the side of the house formerly hidden from view. There was no one in sight. She felt a twinge of disappointment. Her flu symptoms were getting worse, and her better judgement was telling her to get the hell out of there before she collapsed. She was starting to make a strategic retreat when she abruptly felt her right wrist grabbed from behind and twisted painfully. The gun was ripped from her grasp and she felt a metallic blade pressed against her throat. A voice, familiar to her from audio tapings, said, "Well hello, Special Agent Mapp. So nice of you to pay me a visit; but it was rather rude of you not to call first."
Ardelia Mapp awoke once more in her hospital bed. The clock showed 5:30.
Almost over now. Evidently he didn't kill me (unless, of course, I've been dead all along – ha, ha). But I have the feeling that I'm about caught up and I'm not sure I'll like it.
She drifted off to sleep once more.
Ardelia's voice leaked only a trace of the surge of fear that threatened to overwhelm her. Courage is not the absence of fear but the ability to face up to it.
"Dr. Lecter, I presume. You seem to know who I am."
"Your fragrance is unmistakable. I recognize it from the times I visited the duplex you shared with Clarice. Neither of you was present at those times, but your aromas were unmistakable. Imagine my surprise at catching a whiff of you here at my home. You've come looking for me, you naughty girl."
The front door opened and Clarice Starling emerged. She said sadly, "Hello, Ardelia. I asked you not to look for me. Why couldn't you just have accepted that?"
"Babe, I know you won't believe this, but you're not yourself. Dr.Lecter has done something to you to change you."
The blade pressed a little more tightly against Ardelia's throat, but she continued stubbornly, "Think about it. You had options. You could have fought the suspension and licked it. That observer who sat in at your suspension hearing, the Italian diplomat Montenegro, recently did some fine detective work and proved that it was Mason Verger's people who placed that phony ad implicating you in Dr.Lecter's escape in Florence.
"Think about it, Clarice. You were disillusioned with the FBI, seeing only the corruption of some of the bureaucracy. Did you even realize that you were the role model for the women operatives; that they strove to pattern themselves after you? And as for the male field agents, only a vocal minority vented their bile to help block your reward for your successes; the majority were willing to judge you by your performance and were happy to have you on their teams."
Hannibal Lecter interrupted to comment, "That's all very interesting, but it doesn't help with our current problem. Clarice, we've never had to verbalize the terms of our arrangement. We both understood them. I will never commit another murder…you will never hear the twang of the crossbow. The general population will not be endangered if I remain free. On the other hand, I am entitled to defend myself. If, say, a bounty hunter were to come after me it would be his choice; I would be justified in killing him to prevent my own death, or worse yet, my capture. Why should the present case be any different? Is there any reason why I shouldn't dispose of someone who came hunting me?"
"You're not planning to kill her," said Clarice. "If you were, you'd have done it instead of talking about it."
"Don't presume that I am that predictable, even to you, my love," said Dr.Lecter, grimly. "The situation remains thus: Ardelia is one of the very few people for whom you've retained close emotional ties. If I kill her, it could destroy our relationship. If I turn her loose, she would just come running after me again, waving her silly gun. I could not rely on any promises she made. Do you have any suggestions?"
Ardelia interrupted, "I think… I think…"
"Yes, Agent Mapp. Enlighten us."
"I think I'm going to be sick," said Ardelia, and immediately began vomiting. Hannibal hurriedly withdrew the Harpy that he had been holding at her throat.
Ardelia's head was aching and she was feverish. She made a retching sound and passed out
"That's a pretty severe flu," said Clarice.
"I don't think it's the flu," said Hannibal.
Ardelia awoke in her hospital bed. The time was 6:00.
I'm up-to-date in my recollections. So, what happens now?
Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling entered the room. They were having an animated conversation but Ardelia couldn't hear any of it. Were they whispering? They turned their attention to Ardelia who saw them speaking soundlessly, like the characters in a silent movie. Ardelia realized she was deaf.
On the bright side, my headache and nausea are gone.
Ardelia adjusted her impression of her whereabouts. This was probably the clinic on the estate, not a hospital.
Hannibal and Clarice stood beside the bed and spoke to Ardelia in words she could not hear. Then they pulled back the light blanket, uncovering Ardelia in her hospital gown. She was restrained lightly by straps on her upper arms and her thighs, apparently designed to prevent a patient from exacerbating certain types of injuries. It was also apparent that her arms and legs had been amputated at the elbows and knees.
Ardelia suppressed a scream as she saw what had been done to her. She spoke to Clarice in measured syllables: "You sadistic, self-centered, cock-sucking fuck-bitch, I hope you fry in hell." She closed her eyes to shut off the sight of Clarice who was mouthing silent words at her, and hoped they would be satisfied with ending her life quickly and not prolonging her torment.
* * * * * *
Clarice had been hesitant when Hannibal told her what he proposed to do to Ardelia. "Isn't there some other alternative?" she asked, plaintively.
Hannibal was adamant. "You're her friend. It's your choice. Either I cut off her arms and legs or she dies. Take your pick."
Sadly, Clarice realized that it was a Hobson's choice, not really a choice at all. "All right," she said. "Go ahead and do it."
* * * * * *
By the time Ardelia's team obtained legal authority to take Dr. Bones into custody, the doctor and his wife had vanished, together with Ardelia. Their fingerprints throughout the house confirmed their identities as Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling. There was a brief mystery as to how they had managed to depart without being spotted. This was solved when it was discovered that there was a second roadway, not shown on the maps, running between the estate and the highway. This roadway had an abandoned appearance. It seemed to peter out occasionally and one unfamiliar with it would have a hard time finding where it continued. This roadway had been cleared through the woods by Dr. Bones' people.
* * * * * *
Once Ardelia's deafness was recognized, Dr, Lecter and Clarice communicated with her by typing messages on a computer. She responded, when so inclined, by speaking, even though she was unable to hear her own voice.
Clarice tried to gain Ardelia's understanding by reasoning with her. Clarice typed rapidly on the keyboard:
I feel terrible that things turned out this way…but we had to do it. I can understand that you're upset about having your limbs amputated…
Ardelia interrupted with a string of colorful expletives.
"May I try to explain it to her?" said Hannibal. He and Clarice changed places at the keyboard, and he began typing. Ardelia ignored the monitor at first, but started paying attention after a few minutes. When Dr. Lecter was finished she asked, "But how can I be sure you're telling the truth?" Hannibal typed:
You know I never lie. However, to ease your concern, tell me: Is there some doctor you trust completely?
"Yes, old Doc Horton, back home. He's treated me since I was a baby."
"Then by all means, let us pay a visit to old Doc Horton."
.
Dr. Horton was a white-haired, cherubic gentleman. He showed no surprise at this odd visit by a former patient and her companions. After performing his own examination and tests, he said, "Oh, it was definitely bacterial meningitis, Ardelia; our tests confirmed it. Once Dr. Bones diagnosed it, he treated it appropriately with penicillin. It was so far advanced, however, that it is surprising that you survived at all. I would have put your chances at no better than one in five. The septicemia was so severe in all four limbs that you would not have survived without their immediate amputation."
Special Agent Ardelia Mapp dictated her report on Dr. Hannibal Lecter's latest sighting and escape. That was her final official action before her retirement on full disability from the FBI.
Ardelia's deafness turned out to be a temporary symptom of the disease. After several weeks the hearing loss had leveled off at a ten percent deficit.
Hannibal and Clarice were frequent visitors at the duplex formerly shared by Ardelia and Clarice, now occupied by Ardelia alone. They were not recognizable to anyone not closely associated with them.
Ardelia felt awkward with Clarice after the misunderstanding was cleared up. "I'm so sorry, Clare honey. I said some awful things when I thought you'd betrayed me."
"Well," said Clarice, judiciously. "I guess it's okay as long as you didn't call me a big doo-doo."
"Yeah, that would have been unforgivable," Ardelia laughed. They hugged, a little unsteadily as Ardelia was still becoming accustomed to her prosthetics.
Ardelia was aware that the Hannibal for whom she was having, if not friendship, then a growing respect, did not match the monster her imagination had fashioned. She found Hannibal and Clarice's visits stimulating. Although still not approving, she could now understand how the Clarice she had known could be the same Clarice who was in love with the man.
Ardelia considered and rejected the idea of turning Dr. Lecter over to the authorities. She was no longer duty bound to the FBI. She accepted the argument that her duty to the public was satisfied by the assurance that he would commit no more murders. Turning him over now would have been inexpressibly rude
One afternoon Ardelia received an unexpected visitor.
"Barney. What brings you here?"
"I'm back at the hospital. My shift doesn't start for a couple hours. I had this thought of stopping by for a bit, if it's not inconvenient."
"Sure, no problem. Come on in."
He looked at her critically as she led the way to the living room.
"Your prosthetics look like they're working well. What outfit you using, Liberty Technology?"
"No, Otto Bock. I've been practicing with the prosthetics and I think they're working out real nice."
After a contemplative pause, Barney said, "The reason I came over, I wanted to make sure we were square."
"Why wouldn't we be?"
"Well, the last time we spoke you were pointing a gun in my face and telling me that if you ever found out I'd been holding out on any information that would've helped you find Starling you'd come back and blow my sorry ass off, or words to that effect. I told you then that I didn't know anything, and that was the truth. But I want to make sure you see it that way too."
Ardelia laughed. "Oh, you poor baby," she said kindly. "Yes, I believe you, and we're square."
Barney grinned sheepishly. "Well, I just wanted to check. You were pretty convincing as the 'Masked Avenger.' "
They were silent for a while. Then Ardelia asked, "How is your Vermeer Odyssey coming along?"
"I took a short break but I'll be picking it up again soon, if nothing else comes up."
On an impulse, Ardelia remarked, "I could use a physical therapist."
Now what made me say that?
Barney was taken by surprise. "Are you making me an offer?"
"Sure. Why not."
Barney considered it for a few minutes. "I'm not licensed, you know," he said tentatively.
"So we call it by some other name."
"Okay. I'm willing to give it a try."
He held out his hand, she took it in her prosthetic hand, and they shook on it.
Funny, good manners and manageable. What more could any girl want. I have a feeling this may be the start of a beautiful friendship.
Fin
