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 10: Could it be him ?

Starling was preoccupied when she arrived home that night. She would have much preferred to be able to talk to Price about what she had just discovered. On the other hand, Price was not in and she did not see who she could talk to. She tried to go to bed early but could not find sleep. She got up, settled on the couch and switch on the television. She was zapping from channel to channel, incapable to find a program that could distract her from her thought. The same question came over and over again: who was sending her these messages, and why send them to her ? It was passed two when she finally sank into a heavy sleep.

But though it was well deserved, her sleep was not peaceful. As soon as she lost conscience, images started rising to the surface of her mind. Images belonging to her past. Images she thought had gone forever.

She saw herself back in Baltimore, a young trainee Jack Crawford had sent to confront the 'monster'. She heard Dr Chilton drawing the portrait of a bubbling psychopath. Then she saw Hannibal Lecter standing in his cell the first time she met him, miles away from the image she had of him. She felt the red coming to her cheeks when he emotionally exposed her. She felt the rage. And her tears when she left the hospital.

Then she heard his voice, this metallic voice that made people shiver. But not her. " I'll help you catch him, Clarice." Ho yes, he had it right: she was ambitious. She would have given anything to enter the Behavioral Science Unit. And she did. She gave anything away to him, her most intimate thoughts. She gave him the lambs. "First principle is, Clarice, simplicity ... Everything you need to know is right there in those pages."

She felt his finger touch hers when he gave her back her case file in Memphis. The brief contact almost burnt her.

This last sensation woke her up abruptly. It took her a few seconds to recollect her senses and understand she had been dreaming. She sat on the couch. "Dr Lecter !" she called out. "Dr Lecter, was it you ?" Her eyes were wide opened now and she reviewed the events of the last days. "Could it be possible that he ...". Clarice, you're crazy ! How would he know about the daffodil killer. And even if he did, why the hell would he want to help her ? Not after their last encounter.

Hannibal Lecter ... She knew it was not rational, but the more she thought about it, the more possible it appeared to her. This little game of cat and mouse was so much like him. And also the tone of the notes themselves, this little thing that made them sound familiar to her. She stood up and went to take the messages in her purse. She read each of them several times. Yes, that was possible. She sat back on the couch and started to think.

Of course, that changed a little bit the situation. The series of murders she was working on were not of Lecter. From that she was certain. Definitely not his style. But having a serial killer as informer could in some way be problematic. First of all, she had to understand his motivation. Did he have something to trade for ? And how would she explain that to her boss ?

But the real question that was going back and forth in Clarice Starling' s mind that night was: will I have to meet him again ?

"Damn you Dr Lecter !"


Clarice had not been able to get back to sleep. She spent the rest of her night, and part of the day, weighting the possible moves she could make. Though she obviously had no evidence of it, she was more and more convinced that Hannibal Lecter was his mysterious correspondent.

Price was expected in office at around 5:00 pm and she had to make a decision before.

At noon, she joined Brad Davenport and they had lunch together in a nearby restaurant. Brad briefly told her about the meeting he had with Edward Manson, but very rapidly switch to the crisis his marriage was currently going through. Clarice could not concentrate on the conversation. Her mind was busy with other matters.

In the afternoon, she made some cleaning in her files and electronic mailbox. Ted Wallace dropped by at 3:00 pm and they completed the final version of their common profile.

At 4:00 pm, she had made her decision: she would tell everything she had discovered or assumed to Michael Price.

Than she started waiting ...

It was passed seven when her phone finally rang.

" - Starling.
- Price speaking.
- Thanks to call me back, sir.
- Starling, could you come to my office now ?
- Sure, I'll be with you in a minute."

Clarice gathered all the documentation she had collected in her bag and moved off.


Starling was pretty much excited when she knocked on the door and entered the office of her boss. Her excitement disappeared instantaneously when she discovered Price was not alone. Two men were occupying the chairs in front of his desk. She did not know the one on her left, but on her right was Clint Pearsall, her ex-boss, the man who had tried to make her quit a few months before.

" - Hello Starling" Pearsall said.
" - Clarice, thanks for coming. I know it's late but we have to talk to you" Price said. " Take a chair.
- I think I'd rather stand if it's all right with you, sir.
- As you want. Starling, this is special agent Peter Malone, and of course you know Clint here.
- Yes sir.
- Yeah." Price was visibly embarrassed. " Starling, Peter has just been assigned to the Lecter case. Clint and I had a discussion, and we think you are the person knowing better Hannibal Lecter, and that you could probably give a lot of valuable information to Peter.
- I have consigned everything I know in the file, sir.
- I'm sure of that, Clarice. But impressions are sometimes difficult to write down. We think a few informal conversations could be useful and ...
- What about the daffodil case, sir ?
- Ho, you go on with that too of course." Price paused for a second as if he hesitated to go on. "Clint is very much aware of the pressure we have on the case, and he has accepted to let Ted Wallace work with us to help you."

So here it was ! They had made a deal: Ted would go on collaborating with them, but in exchange Clarice would have to cooperate with Malone. This is what Price meant when he had talked about negotiation the other day. Clarice felt her blood boiling.

" - Ted will work with us as long as I will be a good girl and work with special agent Malone. That's it, isn't it, sir ?" Pearsall did not say a word but shook his head, as if to say: I told you, Michael, she's out of control. If Clarice had had guns instead of her eyes, Clint Pearsall would have been dead by now.
" - Don't take it this way, Starling." Price answered. " Cooperation between units is something normal. I don't see wh ...
- You don't see, sir ?" he voice had become dead cold.
" - It is an order, Starling.
...
- Very well, sir. I suggest agent Malone call me in office tomorrow to organize the first 'working session'. Now, if you don't need me any more ...
- No. Thank you, Starling."

She was about to leave when Price called her back.

" - By the way, Starling, what was it you wanted to talk to me about ?
- Nothing important, sir. It can wait till tomorrow.
- Good night, Starling".

She did not answer, but miraculously managed not to slam the door.


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