Disclaimer: The characters of Hannibal Lecter, Clarice Starling, Jack Crawford, Clint Pearsall and Paul Krendler do not belong to me, but to Thomas Harris. No copyright infringement intended. I won't make any money of it. Just borrowing them for a while. Lecter' s blue eyes belong to Anthony Hopkins, though (I'm not sure there's a copyright on this).


Chapter 4: Just a freak ?

Starling had not slept much the night before. The few hours of sleep she managed to get were agitated. In the plane that was taking her back to Washington she thought of the latest conversation she had with Price. He had tried to reassure her, but did not quite made it. When she thought reasonably about the recent events, she admitted the two messages were probably just a bad joke. But there was something about them that left her uneasy. She could not explain what. Just an unpleasant feeling ... the tone he used ... there was something familiar in it ... just as if he'd known her.

At the airport, she got her car back and drove directly to the office. Davenport was supposed to have a talk with Edward Manson, Talbot's FBI friend, this morning. Maybe he had learned something interesting.

When she arrived at her desk, she found a note from Brad, asking her to join him in Price's office as soon as she would be back. She put her jacket on the chair, had a quick look at her e-mail - nothing important - and then headed towards the boss' place.

Davenport was there, along with a younger agent she had already seen around. The name was Ted Wallace.

" - Ha, Starling ! Welcome back." Price said when she entered the room.
" - Thank you sir.
- I believe you know Ted ?
- Yes, we met already. You're from the Behavioral Science Unit, aren't you ?
- That's right.
- Ted is here to give us a hand on our profile Starling. I hope you have no problem with that ?
- Not at all sir. Any help is welcome.
- It's an honor working with you special agent Starling.
- Please call me Clarice."

Starling and Wallace spent the rest of the day reviewing the eight murders, and the profile Starling had started to draw.

Working with Wallace was not unpleasant. The man was in his early thirties, maybe two or three years younger than her. He did not have the arrogance of most of his colleagues and had a good brain. He had black hair and green eyes, and could easily be classified in the nice looking category. But he did not seem to get any pride from it.

The job was rather tedious, especially for Starling who had already been through it several times. But there was nothing else to be done right now, and a newcomer on the case might see something that escaped her.

They started in the morning with the first murder, Lilian Trout, a forty eight years old house wife, who had been abducted on a super-market parking lot and found two days later in a nearby wood, with a bullet in the head. The autopsy report showed she had been killed not less than twenty four hours after her disappearing. But no trace of rape, torture or any kind of bad treatment had been found on her body. What did the assassin keep her for, they had no idea.

One of the key rules of serial killers profiling is that getting to know the victims, you get closer to their murderer. In the case of the daffodil killer, they sure had plenty of victims to study. But not even a clue on what they could have in common. Lilian Trout was just an ordinary woman, married, with two sons, the elder studying law at UVA. Her husband had been working in the same bank for twenty two years. They were as clean and clear as a family could be. And yet, someone had decided Lilian Trout had to die.

The other victims were not of much more help either. The closer they got to something 'abnormal' was that the wife of the fourth victim had been portrayed nude in a calendar when she was eighteen. But was that really strange in america these days ?

The only common characteristic between all these people is that they were all white. Serial killers most often operate in their own racial community. The fact that the daffodil killer was white was to be considered with a good probability. Then, there were the murders themselves, and the way they were perpetrated. Even though there was no continuity in the modus operandi, the way most of the victims were killed denoted a rather appalling physical strength. From the first conclusions of his autopsy, Talbot was decapitated while he was standing. Considering the man was 5 ft 7, his murderer must have been at least 6 ft 3, and with the physical building that goes with it.

The axe was nowhere to be found. That implied the assassin had taken it with him when he left. That definitely eliminated the possibility he was traveling by bus or any other public transportation mean: he had to have his own mean of locomotion.

All the murders took place in a range of thirty miles around Washington DC. Could indicate the author was living there, but was not certain. The fact that some of the victims were either kidnaped or killed during the day on week days could make them think the man did not have regular office hours. He could be unemployed, or ruling his own business. But he could also be taking holidays, or even on sick leave.

Starling reviewed with Wallace all the assumptions she had come to in the last weeks. He mainly agreed on the conclusions she had arrived to: they were most probably looking for a white male, more than 6 ft tall, living in the suburb of Washington and owning a car. That left them with only a few millions suspects !

Wallace left her at around 6 pm, with a formidable headache coming up. She swallowed two pills hoping they would give her enough respite to drive home.

She was about to leave when Price showed up in her cubicle:

" - Anything new Starling ?
- Not really sir. Wallace and I reviewed each of the eight murders, but I'm afraid the result is still very thin.
- Was worth trying anyway.
- Sure. Wallace is smart. Can he go on working with us on this case ?
- I'm currently negotiating for it Starling. Glad you two get along."

Starling let a smile come to her lips. She knew the reputation she had in the FBI not to be someone easy to work with. Price gave an apologizing look.

" - It's OK sir, don't worry. I know what people say.
- My comment was stupid Starling. I do not have any reason to complain about you so far.
- Thanks. Did Davenport talk to Manson ?
- Yes. But he did not really learn anything valuable. Talbot was a good man, a good friend, a loving father, ... this kind of stuff. Brad showed him the picture of the kid but did not have any reaction from it.
- I see."

They both stayed silent for a moment. Finally Price went on:

" - Clarice, I've been thinking about these 'messages' you received." He very rarely called her by her first name. She sensed he was coming to the real purpose of his visit to her.
" - Yes ?
- If I were you, I would not worry so much about them. You know, there has been a lot of publicity around the case. Your name has been mentioned in the news. It's probably just a freak trying to get attention.
- Probably.
- You see, it's not as if you were just another anonymous agent." Price was visibly not at ease. " I mean ... people have heard from you in the past. And hearing you were on the daffodil case probably triggered something in one of these jerks' mind.
- I see what you mean sir.
- Nevertheless, the guy went to your apartment. And I could easily understand this is not a very pleasant thing to know. So, if you think you'd rather have a little bit of protection there, I can arrange for it."

Starling looked at him, surprised. She sure was not used at someone worrying for her. And apparently, this was what Price was doing.

" - It won't be necessary sir. But thank you for having thought of it.
- You're sure ?
- Positively." She smiled at him. " I guess I just have to get used to it: apparently, I have the very special ability to attract freaks ! But it might not be as bad as it looks. By attracting them this way, I might be able to catch one of two. And the FBI could finally get a return on investment !"

Price looked at her intensely. She immediately regretted the last words she said. Even if she was still convinced the Bureau had used her in the Lecter case, Pearsall and Krendler were the ones to be blamed for that. Price got her in his team when no one else wanted to. And since she had worked with him, he always behaved more than correctly.

" - I'm sorry sir. I did not mean ...
- Starling," he interrupted her before she could finish apologizing." I will obviously never repeat that publicly, but I can understand you have serious doubts about any section chief motivation here. But I want to make sure you have clear why I asked you to come and work with me. It has nothing to do with what the tabloids called your 'special relationship with Hannibal Lecter'. I personally think you did a great job there, considering the circumstances. I believe you are very qualified agent. And it just occurred to me you had been quite under-employed lately. I just hate waste.".

He paused for a few seconds, looking at her straight in the eyes. She did not dare saying a word.

" - You're working here because I was convinced you were more than competent enough to do so. And I did not change my mind since. Do I make myself clear ?
- Yes sir. I did not want to ...
- It's OK Starling. We're all tired. Time to go home now ...
- Yes.
- And Starling !" She gave him a questioning look. " If you change your mind, about the protection I mean, just let me know.
- I will sir. But that won't be necessary. I can handle that. Thanks anyway".

He nodded and left her cubicle.

She put her arms on the desk and buried her head in them. How the hell could she be so stupid ! Her real talent was not to attract freaks, but to inevitably fuck up the rare good things that happened to her. It there was an award for the best fumble, she would certainly get the prize every year.

She stood up, grabbed her jacket and left.


To be continued ... Thanks for reading. Reviews welcome.
Absolut