Title: "The Blood of a Cannibal"
Chapter 2 "It's A Boy"
Author: Jerome Mullins
Summery and Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Rating: R, it's still mild at this point, but you never know.
Feedback: Always welcome. The more the merrier.
Author's Notes: The pervious chapter was a brief recap of the last encounter between Starling and Lecter, as well as all the events that get this actually story set in motion. So without further delay.
* * *
Rushing into her office, affectionately nicknamed "Hannibal House" by her peers at the J. Edgar Hoover Building, Clarice Starling found Special Agent Pearsall already waiting with a stack of newly uncovered files.
"We found these in the Yourself storage facility in downtown Baltimore two hours ago. Lecter's lawyer had just called us this morning letting us know that he had been under instruction not to reveal the existence of these files until he received the go ahead from Lecter."
"For what reason? Why was he holding out?"
"I don't know, his lawyer wouldn't say, but he did receive a letter that he's already turned over to us. It told him to open the files for the first time since Lecter's arrest back in 1982*."
"What's this you said about a family?" Starling plowed through the files laid on her desk. "I never found any record that said he was married."
"There they are." Pearsall pointed to the stack. "Lecter never gave a reason as to why these files should be kept under lock and key, most likely to hide something."
Starling stopped and looked up at him. "More victims?"
"No." Pearsall shook his head. "We looked through half of these and have already contacted the hospital at Maryland University."
"What for?" she went back looking through the pile.
"To confirm the death of his wife, Ann." He picked up the top file and opened it for her.
"Annabelle Harrington, born in Dublin, Ireland in 1958. Moved to the United States after being accepted into the University of Maryland in 1976, she majored in Psychiatry. It says nothing in here about her son or her death." She looked up to Pearsall.
"She died in 1980, complications during child birth. Their son did survive, I'm hoping one of those files contains his whereabouts. We need to talk to him Starling, we need to know what he knows about his father. This could bring us an insight into Lecter that no one, not even Crawford, could have even dreamed of." Pearsall sat down in one of the extra chairs.
"I do agree with that, sir, but how do we know that his son isn't already dead?" Starling leaned back in her chair. "He could have killed his own son."
"Of course you're right," Pearsall conceited. "But he could be very much alive and knows exactly where his father is. We still have to try, Starling."
Pearsall's cell phone went off, he excused himself and went into the hallway. Starling looked through the files again.
"Hannibal and Annabelle," she smiled to herself.
Pearsall came back into the room.
"Starling, bring the files, we're headed to Baltimore. The records clerk just called, he found something on Annabelle Lecter."
* * *
Starling and Pearsall were surrounded by files in the record archive at the Maryland University hospital. Pearsall went back to a tall shelf and began pulling folders out to bring back to the stacks in front of Starling who sat Indian style on the floor. Before looking to the fresh stack, she held one up.
"Got it," she slowly stood up, careful of the foot that had fallen asleep. "Annabelle Lecter came into the hospital shortly after her water broke on October 13, 1980 at 5:18 am. She was in labor for five hours before she was wheeled into the delivery room just before 10:20."
"Was Lecter with her?" Pearsall looked over her shoulder to the file.
"He was there, he was still a practicing physician then." She nodded. "Never left her side once, he refused to leave even when the complications began."
"What were the complications? Was it a breech?"
"Doesn't say," Starling shook her head. "There is a doctor of record though, Dr. Lyle Beckett, OBGYN. She gave birth at 10:31 am, and was then pronounced dead at 10:40, nine minutes later." She flipped through the file. "Now what could make her do that?"
"We should talk to Dr. Beckett."
"Did I hear you right? You want to talk to Lyle Beckett?" the records clerk walked over to them with a few more files. "Beckett was dismissed from his duties, his medical license revoked."
"Why?" Starling asked.
"He was drunk while on duty." He pointed to the file in her hand. "He was responsible for not properly taking care of a woman in his charge as she was delivering her child. Responsible for her death."
"Annabelle Lecter." Pearsall said.
"That's the one." The clerk nodded. "She was administered the wrong medications right after she delivered, caused her to go into shock. Her husband was there, he was a doctor too. He took over and tried to save her, she never recovered. Died right there and then."
"Is there a way we can reach him?" Starling asked. "We really need to get in touch with him."
"He died a few months after the accident." Starling and Pearsall looked to each other quickly. "He committed suicide, they found him the next morning in his own bathtub, slashed his wrists."
* * *
Sitting alone in her office, Starling continued to go through Dr. Lecter's files. Finishing another file of tax returns and financial documents, she came across a personal file. Inside was a wedding invitation, she smiled as she read: "Hannibal Lecter and Annabelle Harrington invites one and all to their joining in Matrimony on April 30th, 1979 at three in the afternoon." The invitation was printed on expensive parchment paper in thick black ink.
The next item was a photograph of Dr. Lecter and his bride running down the aisle together. Both were moving too fast to clearly make out their faces, but she knew it was him. The last two items were a birth announcement and a program from Annabelle's funeral. She glanced through it and then turned to the birth announcement. Dr. Lecter had named his son Jerome Dante.
Keeping the announcement off to the side of her desk, she continued her search through Dr. Lecter's personal files. The next file consisted of names and addresses of his patients typed neatly with a handwritten addition at the bottom of the page: "Will Graham, FBI Headquarters, Washington, D. C."
Continuing to plow through the pile, there were more financial files and a few sketches of a woman whom Starling assumed was the deceased Mrs. Lecter. The sketches were so crude and filled with emotion, each sketch varied in detail that Starling was unable to clearly picture her. She finally came across a file that contained several childish crayon sketches. They were no more than scribbles but had been kept as treasures by a father. Starling was having trouble recognizing Dr. Lecter as such, but he is a father.
Pearsall entered into the office and handed her a coffee.
"Anything?"
"Jerome Dante Lecter," she handed him the birth announcement. "I also found some of his drawings, he probably gets that from his father." She smiled briefly without Pearsall noticing. "Find anything on Beckett?"
"I found the police report, it was a suicide, no doubt about that. The coroner didn't think to perform an autopsy or even a toxicology report." He shrugged.
"So if he was murdered there's nothing to prove it."
"You think Lecter killed him?"
"He once killed an inmate who was imprisoned next to him at Baltimore by making him swallow his own tongue just because he was rude to-"
Starling blushed. Pearsall waited for her to continue. Instead she cleared her throat and changed the subject.
"His wife is dead, she was given the wrong medications, not to mention he was intoxicated. Dr. Lecter isn't one to let something like that go." She shrugged. "His wife is dead."
Pearsall sighed as he thought for a moment. "At least we have a name, we should start searching adoption agencies."
"What about family? Aren't there any brothers or sisters?"
"Not for Lecter," he shook his head.
"What about his wife?" Starling went through the file again.
"Two brothers, Luke and Matthew, they live in the Massachusetts." He nodded. "I'll check it out."
* * *
Luke Harrington slowly answered the door to find Special Agent Clarice Starling standing on his front porch. He looked at her badge quickly and back to her.
"This is about Hannibal isn't it? I recognize the name." He pointed to her badge.
"Yes sir it is, but I was also wondering if I might speak to you about your sister Annabelle?"
"You want to ask about her son," he stood back to let her pass.
"Yes sir I do. Is he here?"
"Was." He nodded. "He's at school now. He hasn't changed his name, shouldn't be too hard to find him. That's what you're here for isn't it?" he was calm in his demeanor and voice. There was a slight, formal, patient smile across his lips.
Luke Harrington was a tall, thin Irish man with black hair and pale blue eyes. His light blue dress shirt was rolled back at the sleeves to reveal muscular arms. He folded them in front of his chest, he may have been intimidating to others, but Starling felt no sense of hostility.
"I wanted to talk to him about his father." She nodded. "We need to find him."
"He'll tell you as much as he knows, but I doubt he would have the first clue as to where his father is."
"Anything he can give us would be more than helpful." She smiled softly. "I sure would appreciate it."
Harrington nodded. "Boston College, he lives on campus, I'm not sure which resident house."
"Can I ask you a few questions before I go, sir? How well did you know your brother-in-law?"
"Hannibal? I knew him a bit, not much though. I was still in Ireland when they got married. Ann was the oldest of us three, she and Hannibal were married for almost a year when I moved here. Then she passed away," he looked down. "Jerome spent a lot of time with me and my brother, Matthew, and his grandmother. His father was always there for him of course, and then he was arrested."
"Who took Jerome when his father was incarcerated?"
"I did," his smile broadened slightly. "Raised the boy with my wife. We always considered him our own. We decided that it would be best if he didn't know about his father's." he paused, and then smiled. "We decided that Jerome should be protected from all that."
"Did Dr. Lecter ever request to see his son?"
"No. The courts wouldn't have allowed even if he had. Besides, the man locked in that prison was not the man I knew." He shook his head. "I didn't know him well, but I could never imagine him doing such horrible things."
"I know, sir." Starling nodded, thinking of her own doubts she once had. "Thank you for your time, sir." She shook his hand as he led her out.
"Not at all, in fact you could offer Jerome a ride home. We're looking forward to having him here during his Christmas break." Harrington smiled.
* * *
That's it for Chapter 2, there's more coming folks. Stay tuned. By the way, * denotes the year of his imprisonment based on the line Lecter said to Starling in _Silence of the Lambs_: "I've been in this room for eight years now, Clarice. I know they will never let me out while I'm alive." My theory is that the Buffalo Bill case took place in fall of 1990, so therefore 1990 would be the eighth year making 1982 the year of his incarceration. Challenge it if you want to, but it's my story. Feedback welcomed and encouraged.
Thanks to all who have written in so far, I appreciate and welcome the feedback. To all of you who have asked: No, there will be no aliens in this story. Write unto the _The X-Files_ that which belongs in _The X-Files_, and write unto _Hannibal_ that which belongs to the Good Doctor. Dr. Lecter's son is flesh and blood (human blood). Trust me.
Chapter 2 "It's A Boy"
Author: Jerome Mullins
Summery and Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Rating: R, it's still mild at this point, but you never know.
Feedback: Always welcome. The more the merrier.
Author's Notes: The pervious chapter was a brief recap of the last encounter between Starling and Lecter, as well as all the events that get this actually story set in motion. So without further delay.
* * *
Rushing into her office, affectionately nicknamed "Hannibal House" by her peers at the J. Edgar Hoover Building, Clarice Starling found Special Agent Pearsall already waiting with a stack of newly uncovered files.
"We found these in the Yourself storage facility in downtown Baltimore two hours ago. Lecter's lawyer had just called us this morning letting us know that he had been under instruction not to reveal the existence of these files until he received the go ahead from Lecter."
"For what reason? Why was he holding out?"
"I don't know, his lawyer wouldn't say, but he did receive a letter that he's already turned over to us. It told him to open the files for the first time since Lecter's arrest back in 1982*."
"What's this you said about a family?" Starling plowed through the files laid on her desk. "I never found any record that said he was married."
"There they are." Pearsall pointed to the stack. "Lecter never gave a reason as to why these files should be kept under lock and key, most likely to hide something."
Starling stopped and looked up at him. "More victims?"
"No." Pearsall shook his head. "We looked through half of these and have already contacted the hospital at Maryland University."
"What for?" she went back looking through the pile.
"To confirm the death of his wife, Ann." He picked up the top file and opened it for her.
"Annabelle Harrington, born in Dublin, Ireland in 1958. Moved to the United States after being accepted into the University of Maryland in 1976, she majored in Psychiatry. It says nothing in here about her son or her death." She looked up to Pearsall.
"She died in 1980, complications during child birth. Their son did survive, I'm hoping one of those files contains his whereabouts. We need to talk to him Starling, we need to know what he knows about his father. This could bring us an insight into Lecter that no one, not even Crawford, could have even dreamed of." Pearsall sat down in one of the extra chairs.
"I do agree with that, sir, but how do we know that his son isn't already dead?" Starling leaned back in her chair. "He could have killed his own son."
"Of course you're right," Pearsall conceited. "But he could be very much alive and knows exactly where his father is. We still have to try, Starling."
Pearsall's cell phone went off, he excused himself and went into the hallway. Starling looked through the files again.
"Hannibal and Annabelle," she smiled to herself.
Pearsall came back into the room.
"Starling, bring the files, we're headed to Baltimore. The records clerk just called, he found something on Annabelle Lecter."
* * *
Starling and Pearsall were surrounded by files in the record archive at the Maryland University hospital. Pearsall went back to a tall shelf and began pulling folders out to bring back to the stacks in front of Starling who sat Indian style on the floor. Before looking to the fresh stack, she held one up.
"Got it," she slowly stood up, careful of the foot that had fallen asleep. "Annabelle Lecter came into the hospital shortly after her water broke on October 13, 1980 at 5:18 am. She was in labor for five hours before she was wheeled into the delivery room just before 10:20."
"Was Lecter with her?" Pearsall looked over her shoulder to the file.
"He was there, he was still a practicing physician then." She nodded. "Never left her side once, he refused to leave even when the complications began."
"What were the complications? Was it a breech?"
"Doesn't say," Starling shook her head. "There is a doctor of record though, Dr. Lyle Beckett, OBGYN. She gave birth at 10:31 am, and was then pronounced dead at 10:40, nine minutes later." She flipped through the file. "Now what could make her do that?"
"We should talk to Dr. Beckett."
"Did I hear you right? You want to talk to Lyle Beckett?" the records clerk walked over to them with a few more files. "Beckett was dismissed from his duties, his medical license revoked."
"Why?" Starling asked.
"He was drunk while on duty." He pointed to the file in her hand. "He was responsible for not properly taking care of a woman in his charge as she was delivering her child. Responsible for her death."
"Annabelle Lecter." Pearsall said.
"That's the one." The clerk nodded. "She was administered the wrong medications right after she delivered, caused her to go into shock. Her husband was there, he was a doctor too. He took over and tried to save her, she never recovered. Died right there and then."
"Is there a way we can reach him?" Starling asked. "We really need to get in touch with him."
"He died a few months after the accident." Starling and Pearsall looked to each other quickly. "He committed suicide, they found him the next morning in his own bathtub, slashed his wrists."
* * *
Sitting alone in her office, Starling continued to go through Dr. Lecter's files. Finishing another file of tax returns and financial documents, she came across a personal file. Inside was a wedding invitation, she smiled as she read: "Hannibal Lecter and Annabelle Harrington invites one and all to their joining in Matrimony on April 30th, 1979 at three in the afternoon." The invitation was printed on expensive parchment paper in thick black ink.
The next item was a photograph of Dr. Lecter and his bride running down the aisle together. Both were moving too fast to clearly make out their faces, but she knew it was him. The last two items were a birth announcement and a program from Annabelle's funeral. She glanced through it and then turned to the birth announcement. Dr. Lecter had named his son Jerome Dante.
Keeping the announcement off to the side of her desk, she continued her search through Dr. Lecter's personal files. The next file consisted of names and addresses of his patients typed neatly with a handwritten addition at the bottom of the page: "Will Graham, FBI Headquarters, Washington, D. C."
Continuing to plow through the pile, there were more financial files and a few sketches of a woman whom Starling assumed was the deceased Mrs. Lecter. The sketches were so crude and filled with emotion, each sketch varied in detail that Starling was unable to clearly picture her. She finally came across a file that contained several childish crayon sketches. They were no more than scribbles but had been kept as treasures by a father. Starling was having trouble recognizing Dr. Lecter as such, but he is a father.
Pearsall entered into the office and handed her a coffee.
"Anything?"
"Jerome Dante Lecter," she handed him the birth announcement. "I also found some of his drawings, he probably gets that from his father." She smiled briefly without Pearsall noticing. "Find anything on Beckett?"
"I found the police report, it was a suicide, no doubt about that. The coroner didn't think to perform an autopsy or even a toxicology report." He shrugged.
"So if he was murdered there's nothing to prove it."
"You think Lecter killed him?"
"He once killed an inmate who was imprisoned next to him at Baltimore by making him swallow his own tongue just because he was rude to-"
Starling blushed. Pearsall waited for her to continue. Instead she cleared her throat and changed the subject.
"His wife is dead, she was given the wrong medications, not to mention he was intoxicated. Dr. Lecter isn't one to let something like that go." She shrugged. "His wife is dead."
Pearsall sighed as he thought for a moment. "At least we have a name, we should start searching adoption agencies."
"What about family? Aren't there any brothers or sisters?"
"Not for Lecter," he shook his head.
"What about his wife?" Starling went through the file again.
"Two brothers, Luke and Matthew, they live in the Massachusetts." He nodded. "I'll check it out."
* * *
Luke Harrington slowly answered the door to find Special Agent Clarice Starling standing on his front porch. He looked at her badge quickly and back to her.
"This is about Hannibal isn't it? I recognize the name." He pointed to her badge.
"Yes sir it is, but I was also wondering if I might speak to you about your sister Annabelle?"
"You want to ask about her son," he stood back to let her pass.
"Yes sir I do. Is he here?"
"Was." He nodded. "He's at school now. He hasn't changed his name, shouldn't be too hard to find him. That's what you're here for isn't it?" he was calm in his demeanor and voice. There was a slight, formal, patient smile across his lips.
Luke Harrington was a tall, thin Irish man with black hair and pale blue eyes. His light blue dress shirt was rolled back at the sleeves to reveal muscular arms. He folded them in front of his chest, he may have been intimidating to others, but Starling felt no sense of hostility.
"I wanted to talk to him about his father." She nodded. "We need to find him."
"He'll tell you as much as he knows, but I doubt he would have the first clue as to where his father is."
"Anything he can give us would be more than helpful." She smiled softly. "I sure would appreciate it."
Harrington nodded. "Boston College, he lives on campus, I'm not sure which resident house."
"Can I ask you a few questions before I go, sir? How well did you know your brother-in-law?"
"Hannibal? I knew him a bit, not much though. I was still in Ireland when they got married. Ann was the oldest of us three, she and Hannibal were married for almost a year when I moved here. Then she passed away," he looked down. "Jerome spent a lot of time with me and my brother, Matthew, and his grandmother. His father was always there for him of course, and then he was arrested."
"Who took Jerome when his father was incarcerated?"
"I did," his smile broadened slightly. "Raised the boy with my wife. We always considered him our own. We decided that it would be best if he didn't know about his father's." he paused, and then smiled. "We decided that Jerome should be protected from all that."
"Did Dr. Lecter ever request to see his son?"
"No. The courts wouldn't have allowed even if he had. Besides, the man locked in that prison was not the man I knew." He shook his head. "I didn't know him well, but I could never imagine him doing such horrible things."
"I know, sir." Starling nodded, thinking of her own doubts she once had. "Thank you for your time, sir." She shook his hand as he led her out.
"Not at all, in fact you could offer Jerome a ride home. We're looking forward to having him here during his Christmas break." Harrington smiled.
* * *
That's it for Chapter 2, there's more coming folks. Stay tuned. By the way, * denotes the year of his imprisonment based on the line Lecter said to Starling in _Silence of the Lambs_: "I've been in this room for eight years now, Clarice. I know they will never let me out while I'm alive." My theory is that the Buffalo Bill case took place in fall of 1990, so therefore 1990 would be the eighth year making 1982 the year of his incarceration. Challenge it if you want to, but it's my story. Feedback welcomed and encouraged.
Thanks to all who have written in so far, I appreciate and welcome the feedback. To all of you who have asked: No, there will be no aliens in this story. Write unto the _The X-Files_ that which belongs in _The X-Files_, and write unto _Hannibal_ that which belongs to the Good Doctor. Dr. Lecter's son is flesh and blood (human blood). Trust me.