Author's note:
Well, making up the DeGould subplot that we skipped out on – this ended up so long that it's better to have it as a chapter itself. We'll check in on the GD in Oz and Clarice in solitary soon enough. For now, let's meet the bad guys…
Rebecca DeGould was quite pleased with the way things were going. Switching Clarice and Brittany had worked out easier than she'd thought. Of course, Lieutenant Beck had been more than willing to cooperate. After all, Clarice had meant to charge some of his officers. Making new ID cards had been simplicity itself.
But it would take more to finish the job. The prison's records now indicated that Clarice Starling was Brittany Tollman. DeGould had to take care of the outside world. That was what she was doing now. She had a fingerprint card that was already labeled and another one that was blank. Carefully she filled in the name and date. Clarice Starling, 5/1/1991. Clarice's first fingerprint card with the FBI. Sneed had pulled it from Central Records for her.
Brittany Tollman sat in front of her, staring nervously back and forth. She'd been like that ever since DeGould had pulled her out of the prison. After five years in prison, she didn't seem to quite have the hang of how the free world worked. DeGould had needed to feed the kid dinner, as she didn't know much about cooking herself. She'd given her Clarice's keys and driven her over to Clarice's duplex. Eventually, the kiddo would have to get a driver's license with her photo. But that could wait.
Sneed came in with a young black woman about Brittany's age. She looked equally spooked. Rebecca looked up and smiled.
"Here you are," Sneed said calmly, and handed her another set of fingerprint cards – one already printed, one blank. Across the top of this one was the name Ardelia Mapp 5/1/1991.
"Ah," Rebecca said to the black woman. "Have a seat. Good to see you. Please close the door first."
The woman looked nervously to and fro. Rebecca sighed. Jailbirds. They acted like the world around them was so damn new. Then again, she considered, Brittany Tollman had been jailed a few months after she graduated high school.
"Brittany, I want you to meet Kiera Washington," she said cuttingly. "Kiera, this is Brittany Tollman. Now, that is the last time I expect to hear either of you use those names in public. From now on, you're Clarice Starling," she pointed at the white woman, "and you're Ardelia Mapp." She sat up behind her desk in order to lecture her two duplicates.
"Both of you are in the same position," DeGould said. "Both of you were sentenced to very long prison sentences. Both of you were forgotten after that. As a result, both of you have a very strong incentive to do what your Auntie Rebecca says." She chuckled. "Both of you would probably like a second chance, and I decided to give that to you." Her eyes gleamed. "For one thing, I need both of you to put your fingerprints on these cards here." She held out Clarice's blank card towards Brittany. Obediently, Brittany held out her hand. Rebecca took an inkpad and carefully inked Brittany's fingerprints onto the cards in the appropriate fashion. Once she was done with that, Kiera's prints were put onto the card for Ardelia Mapp.
"Look," Rebecca said. "What I want out of you two is very simple. For a few weeks, you're going to play Clarice Starling and Ardelia Mapp. I have leave forms all set up for you; all you have to do is sign them, and so you won't have to come around here. You'll have to make a few appearances. Particularly you, Brittany, you'll need to give a short report to the Senator. That's this afternoon."
Brittany's eyes widened with fear. "A Senator? I can't do that." Her voice betrayed a Southern accent. Not West Virginia cow country like Starling's, DeGould thought. According to her records, she hailed from Gainesville, Florida. But a hick accent was a hick accent. The Senator was from Detroit; wasn't like she would be able to tell the difference.
"Yes, you can," DeGould said indifferently.
"Miz DeGould…please," Brittany said. "I don't know how you think you're gonna do this, but I can't pass for Clarice Starling. There's no way."
"Oh, yes, you can," DeGould repeated. "I'm going to take you to the hairdresser later, and we're gonna get that hair dyed and cut in the right style. Some blue contact lenses, a little makeup, and you'll look close enough. The Senator doesn't know Clarice personally. I'll be there with you; everything will be fine. Just stick to the notes I gave you."
Brittany nodded, her eyes wide.
DeGould tapped away at her computer. She'd been able to get access to the FBI's fingerprint archives. Deleting records was impossible, but editing them was not. Sneed had managed to finagle an administrator's username and password for her. Now she had the ability to access the entire system.
She pulled up the record for CLARICE M STARLING and calmly edited the name and vital information on it. A few minutes passed while she worked. When she was done, it now read BRITTANY TOLLMAN and was now stored in the STATE PRISONERS category rather than the FEDERAL EMPLOYEES category. DeGould grinned. Swapping Brittany's record for Clarice's was similarly easily done. Once that was done, she did the same for Kiera and Ardelia.
"There we go," Rebecca said sweetly. "Now listen to me, girls. According to the system, you're Clarice and Ardelia. Keep your head about you and you'll do fine. You don't need to do that very long, either. Very shortly, you'll have done your jobs for me. Once that's done, you'll both be given new identities and jobs, and you'll be able to blend right into Middle America just fine. You can go back to Florida for all I care. Both of you will have a second chance. A chance no one else will give you."
Then her eyes gleamed malevolently. Better that her two little twits knew the price of failure.
"I know you're wondering what's going to happen to the real Mapp and Starling," she said. "Now listen up, girls, because this does concern you." She leaned forward. Both Brittany and Kiera eyed her nervously, like wide-eyed schoolgirls instead of convicted felons.
"I know you're wondering how I plan to do this. You don't need to know everything. What you do need to know is that in large measure, I already have. According to the system, you are Ardelia and Clarice, and Brittany and Kiera are back in their respective prisons serving their respective prison terms. Both of you ought to know damn well what a prisoner counts for against what the system says." She chuckled. "How many prison lieutenants would believe a cockamamie story like 'I'm an FBI agent whose identity was switched'?"
Both girls looked at each other and then DeGould. They both knew. As prisoners, they had counted for nothing. They knew perfectly well the fates of the women with whom they had switched identities. No one would believe them, least of all anyone who worked in corrections.
"Now," she said. "Neither of you are Kiera Washington or Brittany Tollman any more. Kiera is back in Broward CI. Brittany is back in Bedford Hills. But that's just for now, ladies."
DeGould smiled coldly. "They're not going to stay there for much longer," she said. "Have either of you heard of Chowchilla?"
Brittany shook her head. Kiera nodded.
"That's a prison in California," she said. "I knew a few people who were down in there."
"Yes," DeGould said. "Very good. Glad to hear you know about your prisons." Then she continued, adopting a pedantic tone. "Brittany Tollman and Kiera Washington are going to be transferred there in the next few months. They'll get a lot of tickets for fighting, and once they've proved incorrigible, off they go."
Brittany looked slightly puzzled. "Can they do that? I was in New York an' she was in Florida."
DeGould chuckled. "Oh, yes, they can," she said. "Tell me, Brittany, did you know Pamela Smart when you were at Bedford Hills?"
Brittany nodded shyly. "Well…I knew who she was, but I wasn't friends with her or nothing," she said.
"Okay. Pamela Smart wasn't from New York and didn't commit her crimes in New York. She was from New Hampshire. Did you know that?" DeGould asked, smiling pleasantly.
Brittany shrugged, looking like a student who was trying to pay attention to the lesson but not grasping it.
"She was transferred to New York under the Interstate Inmate Compact," DeGould explained. "Trust me, girls, I know what I'm doing. Now. Brittany Tollman and Kiera Washington are going to become very bad girls. Then it's off to Chowchilla. Specifically, their SHU. You girls know what that is, don't you?"
"The hole," Brittany said, and shivered.
DeGould nodded. "Exactly. Solitary confinement. But there is one big difference. You two were mostly well behaved in prison. Brittany, you picked up one write-up three years ago that bought you a week in solitary. Since then you've pretty much been clean. Kiera, you look about the same, one minor disciplinary case a couple of years ago, nothing since. But in Chowchilla, once you're in the SHU you have to convince a prison committee that you deserve to get out. Effectively," she grinned, "once you're in you tend to stay there."
"Listen up, you two, and listen good. There are going to be two people going to the SHU in Chowchilla shortly, where no one will know them, no one will care about them, and they'll spend the next few years in solitary confinement – at least until their brains turn to mush. That can be Starling and Mapp. If either of you screw up, it'll be you. Make Auntie Rebecca happy, and she'll make your lives very pleasant. Make Auntie Rebecca angry, and you'll spend the rest of your life in a little concrete box that'll make the prisons you came from seem like Disneyland."
Both her ex-prisoners looked at each other and then at each other. She could see the fear on their faces. Good, they'd pay attention. That was what she wanted.
Rebecca DeGould was quite pleased with how things were going. She wasn't worried about Starling getting out anytime soon. Beck had promised her that the DNA samples at the prison had been switched. She'd switched Clarice's fingerprint records with Brittany's herself. Even assuming Clarice could beg her way into a court, any judge in the state would laugh hysterically at her story. The system said Clarice was Brittany; therefore she was. She'd taken out Ardelia Mapp purely for strategic reasons. Ardelia was best qualified to identify Clarice as Clarice. But now she, too, was safely in cold storage down in Florida. The first time, DeGould realized, she had neglected to account for Starling's allies. Now she would wipe them off the map to ensure her victory.
Ah well. They'd meet up in the SHU in Chowchilla. Maybe they'd be able to scream to each other from cell to cell.
And Brittany was now Clarice. That meant she had some work to do. DeGould shoved a piece of paper across the desk.
"I need you to sign that," DeGould said sweetly. Brittany's fingers trembled as she reached for the pen. DeGould smiled. She'd put the fear of God into them. Now it was time to show the softer side.
"It's all right," DeGould said comfortingly. "Look, as long as you two do what I want you to, you'll be just fine. And I don't need you for very long. Brittany, in a couple of months, you'll be settled somewhere quietly. You'll have a new identity, a job…a second chance. I'll help you through everything."
"What's this you want me to sign?" Brittany asked in a hushed tone.
"A promotion order," DeGould said. "You're going to be the Chief of Behavioral Sciences now that Conway is gone. You're going to make me the Deputy Chief. There you are, right there, sign it Clarice M. Starling. Did you practice the signature last night like I told you to?"
"Yes, ma'am," Brittany said docilely.
"Very good," DeGould said, and took back the paper. The signature was good enough, she surmised. "Kiera, Sneed will take you back to the duplex. Don't pick up the phone. Just have fun. There's TV, and all that." She chuckled. "Make sure you two call each other Clarice and Ardelia in the house. I'll pick you up and feed both of you once we're done with the Senator."
Sneed made a friendly gesture and the young black woman left with him. DeGould went to get her coat and Brittany's. She realized that Clarice had worn this coat the first time DeGould had gotten her suspended from the FBI and grinned.
"Now come on," she said to the trembling young woman. "We have a hair appointment for you and a Senator to meet."
The hairstylist expertly cut and dyed Brittany's hair so that she resembled Clarice enough to pass. After that, a set of electric blue contact lenses changed Brittany's eyes to the proper color. DeGould was pleased with the result. If you didn't know Starling well – and the only one who did was Mapp – it was easy to be fooled. And in the experience of Rebecca DeGould, most Senators weren't that bright.
The Senator proved to be exactly as dumb and grandstanding as DeGould had thought she would be. Brittany told her what she wanted to hear, sounded suitably like she was a hick, and the Senator suspected nothing. DeGould thought the stupid pinko was so happy about hearing about abuses in prisons she didn't even bother to think she'd been fooled.
Of course, DeGould thought, once Brittany had finished her report, the guards of Bedford Hills would be completely exonerated of any wrongdoing at all. The Senator would be mad about that. But that was neither here nor there. Once Brittany had finished her report, she would resign Clarice Starling's position in the FBI. She'd be resettled in New York City with a paid apartment and a job doing something secretarial in the brokerage house that DeGould's father ran. There, she'd be free, but DeGould would also be able to keep an eye on her. Same deal with Kiera.
After that, DeGould thought, she'd have to get herself a couple of bodies. That wasn't too hard; she had connections in New York City and Washington. Some morgue somewhere would be willing to lose a couple of bodies for the right amount of money. She would put the bodies in the duplex, pour some whiskey on the bed, drop a cigarette next to it, and burn the place down. Poor Clarice Starling, smoked a cigarette and drank in bed, and the place just went right up. Her and Mapp both dead. Meanwhile, the woman herself would be safely ensconced in a solitary-confinement cell three thousand miles from anyone who could help her. It was so perfect.
Rebecca DeGould closed her eyes and imagined Clarice Starling weeping in her solitary confinement cell, knowing that no one on earth cared about her. Dr. Lecter had forsaken her for his little surgeon wife. Mapp would be a few cells over, but equally helpless to help her. No one else would be there for Clarice. There, she would be locked away, suffering day after day, until madness closed in.
