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 11: Stowaway

Starling started up the engine and left the underground parking lot. Her hands were so tightly gripped to the steering wheel that her fingers had turned white. The only feeling going through her mind at this time was pure rage. How could they do this to her ! She punched the wheel in anger " Fuck ! Fuck ! Fuck !". They had traded her ! She did not know Malone personally, but she had heard of him. They said he was an asshole. She was sure Pearsall had done it on purpose: he had chosen the most vicious bastard of his unit to work with her.

It was 11:15 pm and it was raining as hell in Washington. Traffic in the streets was almost inexistent. And it was a good thing because Starling's level of concentration on her driving was lower than ever. If she had not been so busy swearing at Pearsall, she would probably have noticed in her rear mirror the shadow that just went up in the back seat of her car. The man remained silent for a moment, just watching her. Then he decided to let her know ...

" Good evening, Clarice "

Clarice literally jumped on her seat. Though she knew she could never mistake this voice for any other, she had to turn and see to believe it.

The car swerved and hit the pavement on the other side of the street. The shock brought her back to reality and she miraculously managed to recover the car trajectory without further damages. The sound of her passenger hitting the car door did not escape her. But when he started talking again his voice was calm: " May I suggest you keep your eyes on the road and your hands on the wheel, Clarice." All he got for an answer was an assassin look in the mirror.

" - No Clarice. I'm not threatening you. I am just trying to keep the both of us alive a little longer.
- What the hell are you doing in my car, Dr Lecter ?
- I am pleased to see you too, Clarice. I just figured out I could have a little chit-chat with an old friend.
- We're not friends Dr Lecter"

Starling's voice was a mixture of disbelief and anger. He sure had surprised her but she was recovering pretty fast. She was keeping her eyes on the rear mirror trying to capture each of his movements. " It seems to me this light is red, Clarice." he said. " Shouldn't you stop ?". She put her eyes back on the road and threw her whole weight on the brake pedal. The car stopped ten inches before meeting a truck that was crossing her road. The stop was rather brutal. Clarice had her safety belt on but Hannibal Lecter did not. She felt him bump violently against the back of her seat.

" - Dr Lecter, are you OK ?" It took him a few seconds to answer, time necessary to recover his sitting position and regain his composure.
" - I think I will survive. Tell me Clarice, just out of curiosity, do you always drive this way or am I getting a special treatment ?
- I usually don't have one of the most wanted criminals on my back seat to distract me.
- I see. In that case I suppose I should be considered responsible for this little incident.
- I didn't say t... Oh shut up ! No, it was my fault, only my fault, my greatest fault. Happy now ?"

He did not answer. She saw him massaging his left harm. She was about to ask him again if he was all right when the car behind her started to hoot. " That light is green now, Clarice. I think it's time to go.".

She started again, trying to concentrate on her driving this time. They both remained silent for a while. For God knows what reason, her anger had left her now - she was feeling almost relaxed. "Starling you're crazy !" she thought to herself. "You're the only person I know who feels relaxed with a known cannibal behind her in the car !". She was the one to break the silence first:

" - It's not that I don't enjoy riding silently in the streets of Washington with you, Dr Lecter. But maybe you could tell me what you're doing here ? If only for the sake of the conversation.
- I thought I told you already, Clarice. I guess in some ways I missed our little discussions. And I thought we could have ...
- Here ! In my car ? You broke in my car in the parking lot of the FBI - no need to highlight the risks for you - just to chat with me in my car ?
- Well, I must confess I had the secret hope we could continue this in your apartment.
- My apartment ! " Clarice' s voice had lost a little bit of her initial calm now. " You must be out of your m..." She interrupted when she realized what she was about to say.

" - Out of my my mind." he finished for her. " Well Clarice, after all I am a psychopath, a criminal, and a cannibal. What did you expect from me ?
- That's not what I said doctor." Then, after a few seconds: " I never said that.
- That's true. You never said it. And I'm grateful for that. But, if we think of it in a rational way, this is what I am, isn't it ?"

The question was not requiring an answer. They both knew who he was, and who she was. Instead, she abruptly changed topic.

" - You sent me these messages, didn't you Dr Lecter ?
- You know I did Clarice. You knew it from the beginning, even if it took you a little time to admit it.
- You know who he is, don't you doctor ?
- Let's say I might have some interesting information. And the will to share them. But you can easily understand that in my position, cooperating with the authorities is not so simple.
- Why ?
- Why what ?
- Why would you want to cooperate ? After all, the authorities, as you call them, have been trying for years to put you back behind bars."

He took a little time to answer her last question, as if he was choosing his words.

" I know most people think I have no sense of morale. And I don't blame them Clarice: my actions in the past are definitely not complying with what you would call ethics. But just because my value system is different from yours, it does not mean I don't have one. Which brings us back to the definition of who I am ... or what I am as some would state it. But, believe it or not, the fact that an individual commits a crime does not automatically make him likable to me."

Starling was beginning to feel tired driving in the streets purposelessly. The only sensible thing she should have done was to take him back to the FBI or to the closest police station. She knew that. As she knew she should have been scared to death. But the fact is that she could not turn him in tonight. As she could not feel fear either. And she wanted to know more. And not only about the daffodil case.

" - All right." she said. " This is what we're gonna do. I'm going to take you to my place. There, we will sit down in the kitchen and we will talk. But I will keep my gun with me and you will let me search you for weapons. Any un-proper gesture, and I'll shoot you. You know I will not kill you unless I'm forced to, but I will not hesitate to neutralize you. And believe me, I'm well trained for that. Do I make myself clear ?
- Perfectly clear special agent Starling.
- Do these conditions suit you ?
- They will do.
- One last thing: when I say it's over, you will leave like a gentleman."

Even in the darkness of the car she could see his smile.

" - Do you want me to sign a written agreement, Clarice ?
...
- I did not ask for one, doctor. You never lied to me in the past. I know you are a man of honor and you can keep a promise.
...
- Thank you Clarice." he had stopped smiling and when she saw his eyes in the rear mirror, she knew he would not try to betray her. " I will leave when you say so. I promise.
- Good. Now let's go."

In the ten minutes that it took to get to Clarice' s apartment, none of them said a word. Clarice parked the car at a short distance from her building and by the time she got out of the car and locked it, he was waiting for her by her door. Apparently he had been there before. While she looked for the keys in her purse she asked:

" - Did you deliver the message yourself Dr Lecter ?" He understood what she had in mind and answered accordingly:
" - No. But I couldn't resist having a look at where you live last time I was in Washington." She looked up at him and he answered her silent question: " From the outside only, I assure you."

She nodded and unlocked the door rapidly. He followed her inside and up the stairs. When they arrived at her apartment she let him go first. Though she did not think he would hurt her, she decided it was a good idea to keep an eye on him. She entered behind him and closed the door. It was only when she switched on the light and he turned back to her that she saw the blood on his temple.

" - What the hell happened to your head !
- I'm afraid it had a brutal encounter with you car. I honestly believe you should be more attentive when you're driving, Clarice.
- I honestly believe you should stop creeping into people's car when you're not invited, doctor Lecter.
- Touché!
- Take off your coat and follow me."

He obeyed with docility. She took him to the bathroom.

" Sit here." she ordered, showing him the border of the tub. He complied without saying a word. Blood had soaked the collar of his shirt and was still slowly pouring out of the wound. She grabbed a pack of cotton wool and a bottle of alcohol from her medicine chest and started cleaning his temple. The contact of the alcohol made him slightly tense up but not a sound came from his mouth.

" - It's deep." she said after she took a closer look. " You need stitches.
- I'm afraid going to a doctor right now would not be such a smart move." As she looked at him, visibly not following him he added. " He could ask embarrassing questions.
- Yeah ... Do you trust me ?
- Would I be here if I did not, Clarice ?"

She took a little box from the cabinet and opened it. She chose a needle and some thread.

" - OK. Grit your teeth." she said. "This one's not gonna be a piece of cake.
- Don't worry. I've seen worse."

Clarice was suddenly taken back one year before, in the kitchen of Paul Krendler. She could not help having a look at his left hand. The scar was well visible. He noticed the direction of her look but didn't say anything. "What are a few stitches for a man capable of chopping off his own thumb !" she thought. "OK, let's go !"

It took her almost half an hour to put three stitches on his head. It had been a long time since she had done this and her hand fumbled a few times. But he never complained. He remained silent and quiet during the whole process and, though she was not sure of it, she believed she read encouragement in his eyes. When she finished her sewing work, she dressed the wound and cleaned his face from the remaining blood.

" - I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for your shirt. It's spoiled.
- Thank you Clarice.
- Umh. Let's go back to the initial plan now."

They moved to the kitchen and sat down at the little table, facing each other. Clarice had kept her holster with her loaded gun in it. He could not miss it.

" - You have forgotten the searching-me-for-weapons part, Clarice.
- Do you carry weapons, Dr Lecter ?"

He put his hand to his trousers right pocket. "Slowly" she warned him. He slowed down his movement and as quiet as possible put his harpy on the table. Then he delicately pushed it to Clarice side. She took the knife and put it in her own pocket. "That's all ?" she asked. He nodded. "You will get that back when you leave, OK ?" He nodded again.

" - So Dr Lecter, you said you had interesting information for me ?
- I believe so. But I need to show you something before. It's in my coat."

She thought for a moment. Then stood up.

" - OK, I'll get it for you.
- A brown envelope, in the inside pocket.
- Don't move.
- I won't"

He watched her leave the room. Even at midnight and in lousy jeans she had a grace he had never seen in any other woman he'd met. Hannibal Lecter put a hand on his forehead. The headache he had experienced since the shock was getting worse by the minute. He took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on the reason why he was there.

She turned back in the kitchen and handed him the envelope. " No it's for you Clarice. Open it please.". She sat back in front of him. In the envelope were a couple of sheets, the kind they use in schools for exams. The upper right part, where usually students write their name had been ripped off. She started to read. Hannibal stared at her in silence for the ten minutes it took her to read it through. She raised her face to him:

" - This is a pretty good description of the third murder, Melanie Prittchard.
- From what I know, yes. But you certainly have more information than me.
- Well, if you replace the rose with a daffodil and add the picture of the kid, I would say it is as precise as the FBI report I have in my office."

She put the foils on the table and looked him in the eyes.

" - On the other hand, most of the elements have been published in the press. It wasn't too difficult to reconstruct the action.
- Did you have a look at the date, Clarice ?"

She didn't look down and continued staring at him.

" - I did, yes. Three days after the murder, and two weeks before the newspapers got involved on the case.
- The date is real, I did not modify it.
- But you took off the name. What is that Dr Lecter ?
- An exercise a student did for his english class.
- What student ?"

Her voice was soft and calm. Hannibal thought for a moment. To be honest, he had not expected to go this far tonight. He had not think Clarice was ready for a long meeting with him and had more or less planned to leave the envelope on the back seat of her car. But now, sitting in her kitchen, with her eyes deliberately locked on his, he had to make a decision. He had to decide where he was ready to go, what he was ready to tell her and what she was ready to hear. As far as he could remember, Hannibal Lecter had never trusted anybody else with his life. But now was the time to choose. And he knew he would not have a second chance.

She smiled at him and her eyes sparkled with amusement. But when she started to talk again, there was no mockery or irony in her voice.

" - So, here we are again doctor Lecter, aren't we ? Are you going to toy with me the way you did before, giving me clues and watching if I can make something with them ? You might be surprised: I might do better then the first time, you know. I'm no more the little trainee Jack Crawford sent you as a lamb to the sacrifice. But I'm warning you: make a single comment on my shoes and I'll shoot you, OK ?"

There was no trace of resentment or anger in her voice. Reminiscences of a private joke between old friends. Hannibal chuckled. His decision was made. There would be no return.

" - His name is Malcolm Van Basten. He is a student in second year in the Forensic Identification Program at the university of West Virginia.
- Do you mind if I take notes, Dr Lecter ?
- Not at all, Clarice. Do what you have to."

He gave her time to take her notebook and pencil. He spelled the name for her and then went on.

" 5 ft 7, caucasian, hair black, eyes brown. He was born in Bandon, Oregon. He will be twenty two in May this year. His parents have a little restaurant by the sea. Humble and honest people ... Officially, Malcolm has no criminal records so far. But he was once caught by the sheriff at the age of thirteen for driving his father's car. There were no accident and the father managed to have the incident not registered in central files. You can find it in local records though. He confessed it spontaneously during his interview for his admission into the Program. The facts were not considered as major and could not compete with the fact that Malcolm is definitely what can be called an intelligent kid. So he was admitted. With a scholarship too."

Clarice looked at him in disbelief. "Memory, agent Starling is what I have instead of a view", she remembered. She did not comment on that, but could not help asking another question:

" - Have you hacked our files, Dr Lecter ?
- Should I call my lawyer, Clarice ?" he asked smiling. She laughed. Of course he had.
" - Forget I asked. What do you mean by intelligent, doctor ?
- Well, I would roughly evaluate his IQ to 130, maybe 135. But Malcolm also has a superiority complex beyond measure. This might be his main weakness. He is convinced he will not be caught because he is smarter than his pursuers. Otherwise he would not have written the piece I let you read. What do you think ?
- You're probably right. Do you know him personally ?
- I do.".

Hannibal felt the moment of truth had come.

" How did you get to know him, Dr Lecter ?" she asked.

He shot his most intense blue gaze at her. Clarice realized his attitude had slightly changed but she did not feel any fear.

" - Maybe I should have started from the beginning, Clarice." he finally said, keeping his eyes locked on her. " I would appreciate you not to take note of what I am going to tell you now, but I'll leave it to you." She dropped her pencil. " Thank you Clarice. After our last encounter, I had to leave the country for a while. I am certain you understand why. When I returned, about eight months ago, I had to build myself a new identity, a ... cover identity - this is the way you call it, isn't it ? " she nodded " Umh. My cover identity is the one of a Neil Lanterbach, a middle aged professor at the university of West Virginia. I live in Morgantown, near the campus. I have been living there for the last six months."

Hannibal paused to give Clarice the time to appreciate the consequences of what he had just told her. He had released to her all the information she needed to stop his career as a fugitive. And considering the charges that were against him, it would most certainly be a definitive stop. Of course, he could still try to run again, but he knew he would not do this. Not this time. Not alone.

From the expression on her face he knew she had understood. Now he could answer her question:

" - Malcolm is one of my students.
- I see.
...
And what are you teaching ?
- I beg your pardon.
- You said you were a professor. What are you teaching ?
- Criminology."

Clarice put her face in her hands and shook her head. " I can't believe it. We put our best agents after him, and he's peacefully teaching criminology to our future recruits ! Someone should explain to me what I'm doing that for."

" - 5 ft 7, you said ? That does not fit.
- Ho, you're thinking of Mr. Talbot. Malcolm did not kill Talbot.
- Then who did ?" Irritation was starting to show in her voice.
" - Paul Ramsey.
- Paul Ramsey ?
- Yes. Though I have no evidence of that.
- And who is Paul Ramsey, if I may ask ?
- Another of my students.
- Dr Lecter, what is it exactly you're teaching to these kids ?"

Hannibal did not like the way she was looking at him now, nor the tone of her voice. His headache had become worse and he felt as if a jazz band was giving a special concert in his skull. That was shortening his patience. He knew he should not do anything to scare her, but keeping his control was becoming more and more difficult. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and calmed down. When he opened them again, Clarice was looking more puzzled than angry.

" - When Malcolm' s English teacher first showed me his essay, I did not pay much attention to it." he explained. " I just thought the young man had imagination. I'm not really following the news these days, and I did not make the link with the murder of miss Prittchard. Of course, I heard about the daffodil killer, but did not really find much interest in the story.
...
Do you think I could get a glass of water, Clarice ?
- Sure."

She took a bottle of mineral water from the fridge and helped each of them a glass. He took a sip and went on.

" - Thank you. Three weeks ago, I accidentally fell on a TV report mentioning you were working on the case. As you can imagine, my interest suddenly grew. I started following news bulletins and went to the university library to read old copies of national newspapers. When I read the articles about the Prittchard murder, it immediately rang a bell and I remembered Malcolm' s story. I made a little calculation of dates and concluded something was not right. I started watching Malcolm a little closer. I observed his movements and followed him on a few occasions. When I got the certainty he had something to hide, I decided to go further. One day, I broke in his apartment and put a bug in his phone.
- You did what ?
- I know this is illegal, agent Starling, but in terms of transgressing laws, let me remind you I did much worse.
- You don't need to remind me.
- I taped the conversations. Very interesting material indeed. Malcolm and his friends are using a code when they're discussing their special non scholar activity. But even a kid could understand.
- His friends ?
- Paul Ramsey and Steve Kowalski.
- Let me guess ... Kowalski is another of your students, right ?"

He smiled.

" - No. Mr. Kowalski is studying international law. That should disclaim my responsibility, shouldn't it ?
- I'll give you the benefit of the doubt.
- I appreciate that, Clarice. There is a fourth one, a woman, but I have not been able to identify her yet. She sounds a little older than the boys, in her early thirties I would say. But that's only an impression.
- I trust you for this kind of impressions." Clarice said, thinking of how he had guessed her on their very first meeting. " And what exactly do their special activity consists in ?
- From what I've been able to reconstruct, it's a kind of challenge. Each of the competitors has the choice of the victim and of the weapon, but must expose his plan before going to action.
- You mean they talk about the murders before committing them ?" Clarice asked, incredulously.
" - Sort of. They write a scenario and put it in a sealed envelope. Then, after the murder, the enveloped is opened. Each murder is then judged by the other three members of the club. The main criteria are the originality, the difficulty and the adherence to the initial plan.
- A scoring system ?
- Yes. It also seems they have establish a few rules, the infringement of which decreases the total score.
- Like what ?"

Hannibal bent his head. "I have been able to understand only one of them so far. They must not know the victim. Kowalski knew Elizabeth Carter, the fifth victim."

Clarice looked stupefied. For a moment, she remained speechless. This was just incredible.

" - I just can't believe it, Dr Lecter." Hannibal tilted his head. Clarice noticed it. "No, that's not what I mean" she added. "I believe you. It's just that I can't imagine how someone could play with human lives this way.
- Of course, you realize I have no physical evidence of what I told you, Clarice. Even the tapes would not be sufficient.
- I can't use the tapes, doctor. Not unless I could legally justify how I got them.
- I understand. Would you like to have them anyway ? I could send them to you.
- I'm not sure I want to listen to them ... But yes, send them to me. There must be a way to stop them.
- There is always a way. The real question is how long it will take to find it.
- Yeah.
- The problem, Clarice, is that with the holidays, they will probably leave the campus and my surveillance will become much more difficult."

She stared at him. He was visibly offering his services to help her catch them. This man was definitely an enigma.

" - You mean you're ready to go on with this, doctor ?
- Of course. Unless you don't want me to.
- I don't know. You must admit the situation is a bit weird. But I guess I don't have much choice ... The envelopes, you know where they keep them ?
- Not yet. But I'm working on it. Actually, I entrusted my assistant with this mission.
- Your assistant ?
- I cannot be on the job twenty four hours a day, Clarice. John is one of my students." Anticipating her next question he added. "A remarkable young man, with the highest sense of morale and ethics. Obviously, he does not know all the elements of the story.
- Does he know who he's working for ?
- Nobody knows. Except you."

"After all, why not ?" Clarice thought. As matters stood, he could as well take an assistant. The whole thing was pure science fiction.

" The point is that without evidence, I can hardly ask help to the Bureau." Clarice said. "I would have to explain where I got my information from, and even if I did, nobody would believe me. We must find a track, something I could work on. Do you have any idea ?" He did not answer. Lecter was looking in her direction but did not seem to see her. " Doctor Lecter ?". No reaction. She raised her voice. "Doctor Lecter ?". She finally got his attention.

" - Umh ? Sorry, Clarice, I did not hear what you said.
- Never mind."

He looked exhausted and very pale under the kitchen light.

" - Are you all right ?" she asked
" - Yes. Just distracted.
- How long is your ride ?
- I beg your pardon ?
- Your ride home, or wherever it is you're going next, how long is it ?
- About two hundred miles, why ?"

She had a look at her watch: 3:30. She did not hesitate long. "Listen doctor, my couch certainly can't offer the kind of comfort you're used to, but if you want to rest a few hours before going, feel free." The incredulity in his eyes pleased her up: she finally was able to surprise him !

" - Clarice, are you serious ?
- Why not ? As matters stand, I don't see what difference a few hours can make. And I would feel guilty sending you back on the road now. Frankly speaking, you don't look like you can take two hundred miles.
- You don't have to do that, Clarice. I can make it home. And even if I couldn't, I'm sure I can find a decent motel on my way.
- I don't feel I have to do it. I'm just offering you a break. All the rules I mentioned earlier still apply of course.
- Of course ... Thank you Clarice.
- Good. I don't know for you, but as far as I'm concerned, I think I'm gonna go to sleep now."

She stood up first. As he was getting on his feet, he suddenly lost balance and had to grip the table not to fall. In less than a second she was next to him, holding his elbow.

" - Doctor Lecter, are you OK ? What is happening to you ?
- Nothing. Just a little dizzy ... Clarice, I don't suppose you would have something against headaches ?
- Of course I have. Come with me."

She helped him to the couch. He had difficulties walking and his whole body was tensed. "Sit here." She went to the bathroom and brought him back two pills of Tylenol and a glass of water. "Swallow these." She loosened his tie. "Wait here. I'll be back in a second."

She went to her bedroom and came back with two pillows and a blanket. She arranged the pillows at one end of the couch. She helped him lay down and covered him with the blanket. He was still very pale but was starting to relax a bit. She put her hand on his forehead: it was hot.

" - I believe it would be wiser to show this wound to a doctor. And maybe have your head X-rayed.
- You've been a wonderful nurse, Clarice.
- Shut up."

He laughed but pain made him close his eyes. She waited for him to calm down and then stood up. "Good night doctor Lecter". "Good night special agent Starling".

Clarice went to take a shower: she needed to relax before going to sleep. When she came back to the living room. Lecter was sleeping soundly. She switched off the light and stayed there, looking at him in the dark.

It was crazy. She was an FBI agent. And Hannibal Lecter, one of the most wanted criminal in America was sleeping on her couch. In this instant, she could have captured him without any difficulty. The image of her handcuffs came to her mind. She even heard the click they had made back in Krendler' s house. It would be so easy. He was never so vulnerable.

And yet, she knew she wouldn't do it. She thought back of their conversation of tonight. The man had revealed to her his false identity, the place where he worked, the town where he lived. Doing that, he had put his life in her hands. As far as Clarice could remember, nobody had ever trusted her that way before. And no matter who he was and what he had done, that was a hell of a feeling.

Clarice Starling went to bed.


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