Author's note: My, some of you seemed upset by the idea that Josh killed the GD. Did he? Read on and see.
For a long moment, there was silence. The only sound in Josh's ears was the ringing from the reports of the gun. No one moved. No one spoke.
Then Alice Pierpont let out a groan from where she lay on the stairs. Josh trained the revolver on her with trembling hands. Clarice Starling arose shakily from her position atop the landing. Will Graham let out a moan of his own and reached for something.
Josh looked up at Clarice. His young face was set and determined. He had done this; now it was time to carry this through. His father was wounded; Clarice was unarmed and starved. He would have to command.
"Clarice, c'mon down here," he said. "I need you."
Clarice eyed him for a moment, and he was struck how gaunt she looked. She seemed to have a regretful look on her face. Didn't she realize he'd had no choice other than to shoot Dr. Lecter? There was no other option. There had been two monsters he had to deal with.
"But, Dr. Lecter,--," she started.
"Dr. Lecter's down. He's not going anywhere," Josh said. "I have a wounded suspect down here and a wounded agent." His throat quavered. My dad has been stabbed, get down here, was what he wanted to say. Forget about that monster up there.
Clarice glanced down the hall in which Dr. Lecter had fallen. She let out a sigh and began walking down the staircase. Josh found himself wondering if her face was hard with grief or shock. She seemed distressed. Then again, after what she had been through, it was completely understandable.
Calmly, Clarice descended the stairs and then examined her former captor, lying face down on the stairs. She clamped her eyes shut, swallowed, and checked Will. Will's belt held handcuffs, and she took them from him and fastened them onto Alice's wrists. Alice did not struggle. She let Clarice manacle her and seemed meek and defeated. That didn't surprise Josh; she was wounded and he had the gun, after all.
When Clarice spoke, her voice was dusty. "Alice Pierpont, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, and to have that attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you at no cost. Do you understand your rights as I have read them to you?"
Alice nodded. Her eyes burned up at Josh.
"Yes," she said. Then, she closed her eyes and looked away. "He shot my father."
"I know," Clarice said, and from the tone of her voice her emotions on the issue seemed to parallel Alice's.
"All I wanted was to meet him," Alice said plaintively.
Clarice nodded. "I know," she said. "Look. We'll take you to the hospital now. You behave yourself and things will be OK."
Josh was satisfied that Clarice could handle things here and bounded up the stairs. The grip of his father's gun was slippery in his hand as he walked up onto the landing. His footsteps echoed against the wood.
It seemed that Dr. Lecter had tried to duck around a corner into the hall even as Josh had fired at him. There were three bullet holes in the wall, one marked with a splotch of blood. Josh tensed. Had he killed the monster or just wounded him?
His pulse raced. His tongue felt dry. Moving around the corner took a greater act of will than he thought. It was dark. But he knew his duty, and he forced himself to round the corner. The muzzle of the revolver swung back and forth smoothly.
There was nothing there.
Josh proceeded down the hall. His eyes were wide. The gun jittered in his grip. His hand was cramping and the checkering on the grip pressed into his palms. He took a moment to wipe his hands and tried to make his palms stop sweating. Blood pounded in his ears.
On one side, Alice's bedroom. He knew this one. Too well for his liking. His shoes were silent on the carpet as he slipped inside. Alice's bed, dresser, bathroom. Nothing menacing there. No Dr. Lecter. He worked his tongue to try and wet it a bit and proceeded back into the hall.
A spare bedroom. Again, no doctor; only anonymous furnishings. He checked the room again and returned to the hall. The darkness burned his eyes as he sought out his prey. There, on the floor. A drop of blood lay dark and small on the floor as proof that Dr. Lecter had passed here.
Josh proceeded to the end of the hallway. A window let in light and he had to squint. The window was closed and locked. He doubted that Dr. Lecter had gone through the window.
No, he had used the servants' stairs, it seemed. Josh's feet thundered on the risers. The stairs were unvarnished wood and noisy. How come Clarice hadn't heard it? Perhaps Alice had done worse to her than he had thought. But she was under control. It was her father that he needed to hunt.
At the base of the stairs, Josh swiftly covered the available area, waving the pistol back and forth in a tight arc. No Dr. Lecter. But there was another splotch on his blood trail. Josh's lips skinned back from his teeth in a savage grin.
This appeared to be a simple back room. Alice hadn't bothered to put furniture in here. From the looks of things she hadn't painted here either. The room looked old. But on the other side of the room was an open door. A breeze from outside blew loose snow inside.
Josh's eyes bugged as he realized what had happened. He charged outside into the cold night. The snow was up to his ankles and fell into his shoes, chilling his feet. He stumbled a few times but pressed on, following the rough footprints in the snow. Every now and then there was a bright crimson splotch of blood, shockingly visible against the dark snow.
The footprints ran out to the driveway. Josh pursued them. Snowflakes stung his face as he ran. At the end of the driveway, there was…nothing. Just nothing. A driveway, his dad's car…and nothing else at all. Under the windshield wiper of his father's car was a piece of paper. Josh approached it and felt snow sting his eyes.
It was just a sheet of notepaper. Nothing terribly exciting. Except the words on it filled Josh with anger and disappointment and fear. Machinelike copperplate marched across the paper. Even wounded, Dr. Lecter's writing was inhumanly neat.
Dear Agent Graham,
You're good – almost as good as your daddy. But there's still a bit of blood in the old man yet. Do mind your manners with my daughter – after all, fathers can be notoriously protective. I'm new to that, but I can learn.
Hannibal Lecter, MD
Josh Graham's head whipped back and forth. He could see nothing on either side of the street. He slumped.
Dr. Lecter had gotten away.
"How?" he hissed to himself. "I hit the bastard! I know I did!"
But he knew the answer himself, and the snow and the wind offered him no further answers. He might have hit the doctor somewhere that didn't kill him. Only one bullet might have struck. He simply didn't know and wouldn't know.
Perhaps Hannibal Lecter's body would be found. Perhaps he would get away. But there would be no final answers, not here and not now. Josh had no idea where the doctor had gone.
But he had one monster, and they could track the other. Josh walked back into the house and to his father and partner. Will was still lying down, his hands pressed to the towel covering his wound. Alice had moved – or been moved – off the stairs so she was lying on the floor. Her face was turned to the side and she saw him as he came in.
"Josh, I'm sorry," she said plaintively. "I just wanted…I just wanted to meet my father."
Josh exhaled. "Not for now," he said finally.
Clarice stood over her, combination guard and protector. She moved to intercept him as if he might take his failure out on Alice. He simply eyed her and felt very tired.
"Lecter got away," he said. "He left a note on Dad's car. All we got is her."
Clarice nodded, and a shadow of what might have been relief flickered over her face.
"Okay," she said. "I called the cavalry. They'll be here shortly. I got ambulances for Will and Alice. They'll both make it."
Josh nodded.
"So all this is over," he mused.
Another shadow flitted over Clarice's face. Josh wondered for a moment what it was. He felt no emotions for the woman handcuffed on the floor, other than basic sympathy. She was a wounded suspect. She'd get treatment, then her trial. That was what FBI agents did with the criminals they arrested. Surely Clarice felt the same. Didn't she?
In the distance, sirens began to wail.
"What happens now?" Alice asked.
Josh shrugged. "They'll take you to the hospital and treat you there," he said. "After that, you're under arrest. You'll get an attorney, and all that."
"Then what?" she asked, and scootched on the rug to better see him. "Will I ever see you again?"
The question was so plaintive and so pathetic Josh did not know how to respond. Alice Pierpont, who had tortured and murdered, who was facing a trial in which she would likely end up imprisoned for life one way or the other, seemed to care mostly about whether or not she saw him again. He didn't know whether it made her simply completely insane or human or both.
"I don't know," he said simply.
Then there were vans and cars pulling up outside the house. Red lights danced in the windows. Men in uniforms and nylon jackets entered. Some bore stretchers, some carried pistols. It was a maelstrom of sanity and order, coming to restore what Alice had set asunder. He let them whisk away first his father and Alice. Clarice was taken next, off to a hospital to be checked out after her captivity. And finally they took Josh away, too.