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 14: No more lies

The house was very much 'Hannibal Lecter', she thought when they entered the living room. He saw her have a look at her surroundings. " It is not big, but it is comfortable. Let me show you your room, so that you can rest and freshen up before dinner." They went to a large bedroom. The furniture was of dark precious wood. Three paintings, two hunting scenes and a nude, were hanging on the white walls. There were no flowers or trinkets around. It was an essentially masculine bedroom.

" - Is it your room, Dr Lecter ?
- Yes. As I told you, the house is not very big. I admit this may not be the perfect room for a young lady, but I am confident it can do for a couple of nights.
- Where are you going to sleep ?" Lecter misinterpreted her question.
" - Don't worry, Clarice. I have no intention to violate your privacy. I will take the couch.
- That's not what I meant, doctor. I have no doubts on your good manners. I was just thinking that you sure need a rest and the couch is not necessary ...
- I'm getting used to it, Clarice." He said with a grin. She smiled back at him. "I will let you rest now. Dinner should be ready in one hour". He left her alone.


Clarice had taken a shower and was feeling relaxed. When she went back to the leaving room the table had been dressed for two but Lecter was not there. She made her way to the corridor and found him in the kitchen. He was turning his back to her, busy turning something in a pan. He felt her presence at once.

" - It will be ready in a minute. I'm afraid I did not have time to make shopping either, so we will have to content with what I had.
- It smells good. What is it ?
- Omelette Andalouse. It is a French recipe.
- I usually get contented with less. Can I help with something ?
- No. It is all fixed. But thanks for offering."


The dinner was delicious. Starling feasted on every bit of it.

The conversation did not quite measure up though. Lecter had been courteous as always, but not really talkative. He had not accustomed her to such economy of speech. She first put it on account of him being tired, which he sure was. But she soon realized there was more to it. He did not look really angry. It was something more subtle, slight traces of impatience in his tone he most often managed to conceal but that sometimes showed up. As if he was ... upset.

After dinner, they had coffee and he politely asked her if she would mind him smoking a cigar. As she answered there was no bother, he lighted a thin brown tube which immediately exhale a nice scent in the room.

As they had both been silent for a while he tilted is head on his left and then on the right. She heard his vertebras crack.


Hannibal Lecter had difficulties keeping his eyes opened. His whole body was hurting. The sound his vertebras made when he tried to untie his neck echoed in the silent room. He saw Clarice stand up and come behind his chair. She put her hands on his shoulder and started massaging his aching back. The relief was almost immediate. Hannibal could not help moaning slightly.

Clarice had no idea why she did that, she had stood up in a reflex. The muscles at the top of his back were as hard as stone. She started moving her fingers slowly, careful not to hurt him more.

" - So, how long is it you haven't slept ?" She repeated the question he had eluded in the afternoon. He kept his eyes closed.
" - Last time was on your couch.
- I see. Really, you should keep your room tonight. I can take the couch. I'm not that delicate, you know.
- I know, Clarice. But I'll be fine."

Her hands on his shoulders were a real torture. As his painful muscles slowly released, his inner temperature was going up. He had to use his whole power of control not to turn at her and take her in his arms. But he could not do that. Not now. Not if she did not ask him to ... Not until she would fully trust him ... and finally surrender.

" - What is it, Dr Lecter ?" She abruptly took him back to reality.
" - Umh ?
- You hardly talked tonight. You were ... distant, as if something was bothering you.
- I am sorry, Clarice. I did not intend to be rude.
- I did not say you were.
- Well, as you pointed out, I am tired.
- I know there's something else. Don't lie to me.
- Lie to you !"

He had suddenly turned his face to her. For the first time, the fury she saw in his eyes scared her, even if it had lasted less then a second. For a very brief instant, she had seen the Hannibal Lecter the newspapers had been describing. She quickly withdrew her hands from his back He recomposed almost immediately.

" - Sorry, I did not want to scare you, Clarice. But there are words you just should avoid using.
- What is it ? what did I do ?" As he did not answer, she slightly lost her temper. "For Christ sake, will you tell me what's happening ?"

He took a few seconds more to answer. His voice was calm and low when he started: " There is something you're hiding from me, Clarice. I know you're not telling me everything, but I don't know what it is you're not telling. I have been very honest with you, Clarice. And the thought this honesty is not fully repaid makes me nervous."

She went back to her chair in front of him and sat. She took a sip of water. He had bent his head down and was playing with his napkin.

" - You're right." she started. He raised his face and his blue eyes gazed at her with so much intensity they made her chill. She did not look away though, and locked her eyes to his.

" - The night you ... broke in my car, even before I saw you, I was angry; do you remember ?
- Yes.
- Well, I just had a difficult meeting at work. With my boss, and Clint Pearsall. Remember him ?
- Paul Krendler' s friend ?
- That's him. He was also my boss at that time."

He was still staring at her. He did not blink. She broke first. She bent her head and went on:

" - After Krendler' s ... After that night at Krendler' s lake house, Pearsall gave me a hard time. He tried to charge me with what happened. But as that did not work, he decided to put an end to my career. He could not fire me, but he buried me under so much paper work I sometimes wished I'd never join the FBI in the first place.
- But you did not resign.
- No. I guess I am more stubborn than even I could imagine. I held on because I did not want to let him win. But about four months ago, I was contacted by Michael Price. He offered me a job in his new unit. Pearsall tried to intervene but Price persisted and won in the end.
...
I don't suppose you would have a cigarette, doctor ?
- In the upper right drawer of the dresser."

She took a cigarette and she lit it up. She showed him the pack with an interrogative look, but he shook his head negatively. She turned back to the table. Hannibal Lecter' s look was kind of glued to her. But he did not talk. He waited for her to be ready to go on.

" I thought that Pearsall had given up, that he would let me in peace now. But I underestimated the man's viciousness. He profited of the fact Price's popularity rating decreased with the daffodil case and put the pressure."

She knew she was coming to the most difficult part. Both because she did not know how he would react, and because she was going to release confidential information to him. " He assigned a new agent to your case, doctor. His name is Peter Malone. Pearsall chose him because he's a real son of a bitch. Then he arranged to force me to cooperate with Malone. I must have regular meetings with him, where I'm supposed to tell him everything I know about you."

Lecter had not moved a muscle. His eyes were still locked to her but did not express any anger.

" - I did not betray you, Dr Lecter." Her very words sounded strange to Clarice. " And I will not.
- I know, Clarice. "

His eyes finally went down. He took her hand in his on the table.

" - I am sorry you had to go through all that by my fault, Clarice." As she gave him a puzzled look, he added: "Sincerely.
- Was part of the game.
- Not exactly. Well, I guess there is nothing I can do for it now. But perhaps I could help you with Mr. Malone.
- Don't touch him, Dr Lecter !" she warned him.

He chuckled.

" - Actually, that was not what I had in mind, Clarice. Though the idea could seduce me.
- I don't want anything to happen to him, doctor.
- And nothing will. Not coming from me anyway. I give you my word on that.
- Good. Then what's on your mind.
- I was thinking I could give you some information that you could convey to him, so that they would release the pressure on you.
- Information on you ?
- Why not ? After all, I am the most reliable source of information regarding Hannibal Lecter.
- False information, then.
- Not necessarily. I was more thinking of 'old' information, things that could be proven right, but let's say a little ... out of date.
- Why would you do that, doctor ? "

Hannibal took some time to answer, as if he was asking himself the question.

" - To help a friend ? I know you well enough to realize how difficult it has been for you to tell me all this, Clarice. And how much more difficult it has been to conceal things from the FBI. I am grateful for it, and I believe the least I can do is to try make it a little bit easier for you.
...
I think we are both tired now. I believe we'd rather go for a little rest and sleep on it. We can review the situation tomorrow.
- Yeah. You're probably right."

They parted in the living room.

Clarice felt asleep exactly thirty seconds after her body hit the mattress.

Hannibal, though he was exhausted, could not sleep before one hour. The memory of Clarice' s fingers moving on his upper back was still burning him. The real distress in her eyes when she had told him about Malone was breaking his heart. It was passed one when sleep finally took him over.


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