On the fourth day after his arrival, Graham pulled back the curtain cautiously. There was Clarice, busy already as usual, listening to a CD of Faust. She didn't look up and he noticed that his card table remained as he had left it the day before. Apparently he had been accepted into her little world, if only for a little while longer. Will had the impression that like Lecter, Agent Starling kept someone around as long as it was amusing to her, but would quickly turn vicious the second that amusement was found lacking.
"Good morning, Agent Starling," he offered.
"Good morning, Mr. Graham," she replied.
He dropped his briefcase at his table and then came back around to peer over her shoulder. She was studying pictures of the rooms that Lecter had left behind in Florence, again. "What do you expect to find here that you haven't already seen?"
"A sign, Will. Anything!" she said, throwing the photos onto her desk.
"Did you inspect the apartments yourself?"
"No! We barely knew he had been there before he turned up here. I got sucked into a million things right here at home without running off to Italy."
"Did you ask Jack to send you to Italy?"
"Sure, I did," she sighed dramatically. "He never seemed to want me to go there. I used to threaten to go to Florence on vacation every time he threatened to put me on vacation!" She laughed. "It's funny now, but think, if I had only gone!"
"Yes, just think. It might have been you that turned up hanging out of a balcony with your bowels on the sidewalk."
She exhaled quickly, making a little noise that relayed that she didn't believe that. He looked at her, stunned.
"You don't think he'd have kill you on the spot?"
"Has he done it yet? You should know, Will, first and foremost he's a gentleman. He promised not to call on me in that capacity and it would be against his standards to go against that."
"What about calling on you in another capacity?"
Clarice's face went cold. "What do you mean by that, Mr. Graham?"
"I only wondered if you ever thought he might have some interest in you besides as his would be captor."
"Frankly, I have never thought about that, Mr. Graham," she smiled ruefully. "It's hard imagining that a serial killer might have romantic interests in you when you're trying to put him in a cage."
"Yes, I suppose so," Will said. "Still, I have the suspicion that you haven't revealed everything that transpired at the house on the Chesapeake."
"Are you saying that I lied on my reports?"
"I'm merely wondering if perhaps you had left out details you felt were unimportant."
"Mr. Graham," Clarice said, standing. "I have always prided myself on being frank and truthful down to the very last detail. There was nothing left out of that report."
"Then how did strands of your hair get into the refrigerator door, Clarice? And why was the handle found broken off with his fingerprints all over it? Your report doesn't say that."
"I was unconscious for most of that time, Mr. Graham. Any number of things could have happened. Maybe aliens took my body and I actually slept in the refrigerator! It could have happened for all I know! Honestly, Mr. Graham," she practically spat his name out. "You need to think carefully before you make outlandish accusations. I won't be bothered by your blatantly un-researched claims." Clarice grabbed her gym bag and stalked out of the room.
When the curtain had resettled itself, Graham whispered, "Then why are you so bothered, Clarice Starling?"
