It was a fair distance, but Lecter opted to walk back to his hotel on the banks of the Salzach river. The gardens of the Mönchstein Castle Hotel were pleasantly quiet at this late hour, and he welcomed the brisk activity. At the end of the path, he turned into the quiet streets of the Old City, and walked southeast along the river. Ahead of his every step was Jupiter in Gemini.
Forbidden thoughts of Starling flowed like the dark, sparkling waters.
Mila had asked him again, after all. And he had accepted, after all. It had been a strange encounter, but he seldom refused to try new things. Somehow, she'd seen that. "Who is she?" she'd asked. "Whom do you mean?" he'd responded. "The younger woman, Milos. Who is she?" Stunned, he'd remained silent. "You don't want to tell me?" Silence. "All right, I have a proposition for you. I'm somewhat…restless…tonight. Why don't we engage in a little game of role playing, hmm?" She'd paused to gauge his reaction to her words. "Continue" was all that he'd said. "Don't tell me her name, just tell me about her. What is it about her that makes you want her so? Tell me that, and I will use the information to portray your innamorata," she'd paused for effect, "and make you scream her name in the moment of passion." In the silence following her statement, she'd laughed, "And then I will know her name, whether you want me to, or not."
And now, she believed he was enamored of someone named Dulcinea. Or not. He chuckled. Did it matter?
Still, the course of the evening had led him to explore his unexpected—and unwelcome—reaction to the events in Olney. The moment he'd seen Starling's absence of fear for her own safety, that fear had outrageously found its place in him. Instantaneously, he'd expunged that fear by means of expelling her from his consciousness. One who did not exist could not die. In a single moment, Clarice Starling had ceased to exist in Dr. Lecter's world.
Until he'd spied, for a fleeting moment, a face with familiar curves and hollows.
He recalled now how his heart had pounded with a shock like that of falling into icy waters unawares. It was as if the world had sundered in two, and he was on the wrong side.
Where was she? Had she made it out alive? He'd wanted to run, and so he'd adopted a maddeningly unhurried ambulation in the direction of his hotel. He'd felt a searing compunction to know, so upon arrival, he'd idled about until there was nothing left to do but learn whether there was still one Clarice Starling extant. When the news had confirmed her safety, all that he'd repudiated had come rushing to the fore.
He'd left Washington with the incredible knowledge that Agent Starling's well-being was irrefutably linked with his own. The thought had disturbed him enough that when the plane landed in Munich, he'd found himself walking out of the airport instead of taking the connecting flight home to Italy. Quite unaware of his purpose for doing so, he'd wandered about the Bavarian countryside, famous for fairytale castles built by a mad king, a king whose 'madness' saved his country a century after they'd had him killed. For what would Germany's economy be without its greatest tourist attractions?
Salzburg had been the inevitable destination due to its proximity and abundance of cultural and financial resources for Dr. Lecter. Ever mindful of his status as a wanted man, he'd made his passage into Austria via a day tour group out of Bertchesgaden, and it was before he could extract himself from that tasteless cohort that he'd met the countess, the woman who should have been exorcist to the impossible influence over him, but had instead been only surrogate. Medium. Catalyst.
The outline of a swan caught his eye, and Dr. Lecter stopped for a moment. The soft rush of the water was the only sound in the deep of night, and he stood in endless contemplation of the stars. Behind him hulked the great old fortress, and the sleeping Old City, and he wondered where she was tonight.
Too restless for sleep, he found himself at the airport well before dawn. Intent upon returning home at last, he was somewhat surprised to find himself, once again, on a flight crossing the Atlantic. And like a celestial augury, there on the western horizon before him, blazed the light of Jupiter.
TBC in 2002…Happy New Year, everybody!
(I had a weird experience with this story. If you want to read about it, I've posted it as "Odd things" under the Short Stories category)
