C H A P T E R II
14 March, 1975 Office of Jack Crawford, Head of Behavioral Sciences
"So, what was it you asked me in here for, Jack?" asked Will after he sat down on the shallow leather chair across from Jack Crawford. Jack's office, along with the rest of the Behavioral Sciences department, was underground, so the cinderblock walls and filing cabinets where all lit by the same low-energy use lights that they use for morgues. On the wall behind Jack's desk there was a large bulletin board that had across it all of the photos from the now six murders. Starting from the top left was the 26 year old woman, Samantha Cyril, followed by the janitor from the Museum of Natural History, the University student, the young millionaire, and the census taker, finally ending up with the new pictures of the mangled body of James Hubbard, the hunter who became the prey.
"I thought that I should tell you one of the interesting details about Mr. Hubbard's autopsy."
"What?"
"Well you see, one of the arrows that was stuck into his thigh cut across an old hunting wound. According to his medical history, he was submitted into the Maryland-Misericordia Hospital in 1970. He had an arrow in his leg. He said that he had been bow hunting alone, and he hadn't been wearing his orange vest and a fellow hunter had shot him. He had been mistaken for a deer."
"So what is so strange, the killer probably saw that he had some stitches and decided to put the arrow there."
"But, Will, you're forgetting, Hubbard was wearing a pair of shorts and the arrow was punctured through them."
"So you think that the killer was familiar with his medical information?"
"That or maybe he saw him in the hospital that day and remembered his face the night he killed him."
"Hundreds of people could have seen him with that arrow in his leg, it would be impossible to find anyone from that day."
"Actually it might not be as hard as you think. You see the doctor that treated Hubbard is Dr. Lecter."
"You're kidding!"
"No, I thought you may want to go and pay Dr. Lecter a visit, you probably haven't seen him in a while."
"Not since Hobbs was killed."
"I also thought that it would help the investigation a lot if you asked him to do a profile for us."
"Didn't bloom give you one?"
"Yes, but that was from before we found Matthew Collins, and, I have to say, Bloom is not as talented a psychiatrist as Dr. Lecter."
"No, nobody is."
+ + + + +
The house had two floors. At the front there was a small room which acted as the entry way. There where few windows along the first floor, but a long line of them spilled across the walls of the second story. He took a bundle of papers from the front seat and shut the car door. He walked up to the front door and opened it. He stood in a small room with coat hangers, a wooden bench, and another door. Will also saw to the left of the door a small indent into the wall from which a string hung out. Pulling the string, Will heard the clanging of a bell somewhere above him. It was after six o'clock, so he expected the doctor to be home. The door was quickly opened by a lean man who looked to be in his early forties. He had his short black hair tied neatly back into a ponytail. Even to those people who had never met Dr. Lecter before could tell, just by having him look at them that no amount of reading or university classes could ever make someone more intelligent or more refined than him.
"Special Agent Graham, how nice to see you again."
"I'm sorry to bother you at this time, but your secretary said that you where booked all day."
"It's no trouble, please; come in." he stepped back from the door frame to let Will pass, "Let me take your coat."
"Dr. Lecter," asked Will as he passed his coat to the doctor, "do you read any newspapers or magazines on a regular basis?"
"Only the Baltimore Times, why do you ask?"
"I wanted to know how much you may have learned about the murders which have been going on."
"Murders? I would expect that they must be more than that if your department is on the case."
"Yes there have been six deaths that are in very close relation to each other. The tabloid magazines are putting them together themselves and filling in the gaps with their own fabrications. We have managed to keep a few things about the deaths secret though."
"Well, it sounds to me like your leading up to the same question you asked me four years ago," He smiled slightly before continuing, "why don't we step into my study, and we'll talk It over," he ushered Graham through the double doors to the left of the front entrance. Graham walked through into the doctor's study. The walls were lined with shelves, all of which where filled with various medical books and trinkets from Europe and Asia. There were a number of moths and butterflies held into a picture frame with labels under each of them telling their origin, eating habits and scientific names. Graham also spotted a number of decorative sets of bows and arrows hanging off of the sides of the cupboards.
Dr. Lecter moved around the large oak desk in the center of the room and sat down on the large swivel chair, "So, Will, what is it that links these deaths together?"
"All of the victims have had part of or all of an organ removed, and none of the missing parts have been recovered."
"So what do you think is happening to those pieces?"
"Most serial killers are known to take souvenirs from their victim's, some of them just store them in a freezer, and others use them to complete their fantasies."
"So what is his fantasy? Or is that what you want me to find out?"
"I'm afraid that I have no idea yet as to what drives this one, but that is the reason I'm here. You're the best forensic psychiatrist I know, so I would like to think you can help a great deal with the investigation."
"Well, there is no way that I could turn down the chance to help an FBI investigation again. The last time tested my psychiatry knowledge more than I thought possible. Looks like where partners again." He smiled again.
"I have a copy of the case file for you. It has all of the crime scene photos and lab reports." Graham took the bundle of papers from under his arm and passed them across the desk to Dr. Lecter.
"Wonderful, I will be looking over this tonight and in the morning I will clear some time on my schedule, and we can begin making our profile."
"Thank you, Dr. Lecter, but there is one more reason why I'm here."
"Oh, please continue."
"Well you see, Dr. Lecter, the newest victim is James Hubbard, he is a retired hunter who five years ago was submitted into hospital by you."
"Me? Well I suppose it is possible, I worked in the Emergency Room for a few years before getting into psychiatry, what was he in for?"
"He had an arrow wound to his right thigh that had occurred while hunting."
"Oh, yes the arrow, actually if I remember correctly, he was a very rude man, Will, and I had to give him a shot of Morphine just to keep him quiet. But at the end of the operation he was kind enough to give me the arrow, though I do think that was the Morphine talking. Since he had come in so early he left the Hospital by the late afternoon."
"Do you still have the arrow?"
"Yes, it is in the cabinet behind you, bottom shelf." Will got up and turned around to look down at the lower shelves of the cabinet. Sitting next to a number of antiques was the arrow. It had a number of spars on the edges of the point and a few inches up the shaft to get a firm hold into the animal that was shot.
"It doesn't look like a normal hunting arrow."
"No that was why it took longer to finish the operation," said Dr. Lecter as he walked around his desk to join Will by the cabinet, "with a normal hunting arrow you can carefully remove it without damaging any more flesh, but this one will grab a hold to the muscle. Even with the operating tools that I had some flesh was still torn. After it was removed I washed and sterilized it for Mr. Hubbard to keep, its standard with any type of wound that involves ballistics, but like I said he gave it to me as a thank you." Will turned away from the cabinet of knickknacks and faced Dr. Lecter. He stood quietly, his stature was that of a royal and the air about him made you treat him as such.
"Dr. Lecter, do you remember anything about the people who may have saw Mr. Hubbard's wound?"
"You have to remember, Will, that was the emergency room, I must have done at least twenty different operations and seen at least triple that number in patients, but I can tell you that the operation would have been done with no more than four or five others being able to see."
"Well, thank you, Dr. Lecter, I'll come by around nine o'clock tomorrow."
"That will be fine."
14 March, 1975 Office of Jack Crawford, Head of Behavioral Sciences
"So, what was it you asked me in here for, Jack?" asked Will after he sat down on the shallow leather chair across from Jack Crawford. Jack's office, along with the rest of the Behavioral Sciences department, was underground, so the cinderblock walls and filing cabinets where all lit by the same low-energy use lights that they use for morgues. On the wall behind Jack's desk there was a large bulletin board that had across it all of the photos from the now six murders. Starting from the top left was the 26 year old woman, Samantha Cyril, followed by the janitor from the Museum of Natural History, the University student, the young millionaire, and the census taker, finally ending up with the new pictures of the mangled body of James Hubbard, the hunter who became the prey.
"I thought that I should tell you one of the interesting details about Mr. Hubbard's autopsy."
"What?"
"Well you see, one of the arrows that was stuck into his thigh cut across an old hunting wound. According to his medical history, he was submitted into the Maryland-Misericordia Hospital in 1970. He had an arrow in his leg. He said that he had been bow hunting alone, and he hadn't been wearing his orange vest and a fellow hunter had shot him. He had been mistaken for a deer."
"So what is so strange, the killer probably saw that he had some stitches and decided to put the arrow there."
"But, Will, you're forgetting, Hubbard was wearing a pair of shorts and the arrow was punctured through them."
"So you think that the killer was familiar with his medical information?"
"That or maybe he saw him in the hospital that day and remembered his face the night he killed him."
"Hundreds of people could have seen him with that arrow in his leg, it would be impossible to find anyone from that day."
"Actually it might not be as hard as you think. You see the doctor that treated Hubbard is Dr. Lecter."
"You're kidding!"
"No, I thought you may want to go and pay Dr. Lecter a visit, you probably haven't seen him in a while."
"Not since Hobbs was killed."
"I also thought that it would help the investigation a lot if you asked him to do a profile for us."
"Didn't bloom give you one?"
"Yes, but that was from before we found Matthew Collins, and, I have to say, Bloom is not as talented a psychiatrist as Dr. Lecter."
"No, nobody is."
+ + + + +
The house had two floors. At the front there was a small room which acted as the entry way. There where few windows along the first floor, but a long line of them spilled across the walls of the second story. He took a bundle of papers from the front seat and shut the car door. He walked up to the front door and opened it. He stood in a small room with coat hangers, a wooden bench, and another door. Will also saw to the left of the door a small indent into the wall from which a string hung out. Pulling the string, Will heard the clanging of a bell somewhere above him. It was after six o'clock, so he expected the doctor to be home. The door was quickly opened by a lean man who looked to be in his early forties. He had his short black hair tied neatly back into a ponytail. Even to those people who had never met Dr. Lecter before could tell, just by having him look at them that no amount of reading or university classes could ever make someone more intelligent or more refined than him.
"Special Agent Graham, how nice to see you again."
"I'm sorry to bother you at this time, but your secretary said that you where booked all day."
"It's no trouble, please; come in." he stepped back from the door frame to let Will pass, "Let me take your coat."
"Dr. Lecter," asked Will as he passed his coat to the doctor, "do you read any newspapers or magazines on a regular basis?"
"Only the Baltimore Times, why do you ask?"
"I wanted to know how much you may have learned about the murders which have been going on."
"Murders? I would expect that they must be more than that if your department is on the case."
"Yes there have been six deaths that are in very close relation to each other. The tabloid magazines are putting them together themselves and filling in the gaps with their own fabrications. We have managed to keep a few things about the deaths secret though."
"Well, it sounds to me like your leading up to the same question you asked me four years ago," He smiled slightly before continuing, "why don't we step into my study, and we'll talk It over," he ushered Graham through the double doors to the left of the front entrance. Graham walked through into the doctor's study. The walls were lined with shelves, all of which where filled with various medical books and trinkets from Europe and Asia. There were a number of moths and butterflies held into a picture frame with labels under each of them telling their origin, eating habits and scientific names. Graham also spotted a number of decorative sets of bows and arrows hanging off of the sides of the cupboards.
Dr. Lecter moved around the large oak desk in the center of the room and sat down on the large swivel chair, "So, Will, what is it that links these deaths together?"
"All of the victims have had part of or all of an organ removed, and none of the missing parts have been recovered."
"So what do you think is happening to those pieces?"
"Most serial killers are known to take souvenirs from their victim's, some of them just store them in a freezer, and others use them to complete their fantasies."
"So what is his fantasy? Or is that what you want me to find out?"
"I'm afraid that I have no idea yet as to what drives this one, but that is the reason I'm here. You're the best forensic psychiatrist I know, so I would like to think you can help a great deal with the investigation."
"Well, there is no way that I could turn down the chance to help an FBI investigation again. The last time tested my psychiatry knowledge more than I thought possible. Looks like where partners again." He smiled again.
"I have a copy of the case file for you. It has all of the crime scene photos and lab reports." Graham took the bundle of papers from under his arm and passed them across the desk to Dr. Lecter.
"Wonderful, I will be looking over this tonight and in the morning I will clear some time on my schedule, and we can begin making our profile."
"Thank you, Dr. Lecter, but there is one more reason why I'm here."
"Oh, please continue."
"Well you see, Dr. Lecter, the newest victim is James Hubbard, he is a retired hunter who five years ago was submitted into hospital by you."
"Me? Well I suppose it is possible, I worked in the Emergency Room for a few years before getting into psychiatry, what was he in for?"
"He had an arrow wound to his right thigh that had occurred while hunting."
"Oh, yes the arrow, actually if I remember correctly, he was a very rude man, Will, and I had to give him a shot of Morphine just to keep him quiet. But at the end of the operation he was kind enough to give me the arrow, though I do think that was the Morphine talking. Since he had come in so early he left the Hospital by the late afternoon."
"Do you still have the arrow?"
"Yes, it is in the cabinet behind you, bottom shelf." Will got up and turned around to look down at the lower shelves of the cabinet. Sitting next to a number of antiques was the arrow. It had a number of spars on the edges of the point and a few inches up the shaft to get a firm hold into the animal that was shot.
"It doesn't look like a normal hunting arrow."
"No that was why it took longer to finish the operation," said Dr. Lecter as he walked around his desk to join Will by the cabinet, "with a normal hunting arrow you can carefully remove it without damaging any more flesh, but this one will grab a hold to the muscle. Even with the operating tools that I had some flesh was still torn. After it was removed I washed and sterilized it for Mr. Hubbard to keep, its standard with any type of wound that involves ballistics, but like I said he gave it to me as a thank you." Will turned away from the cabinet of knickknacks and faced Dr. Lecter. He stood quietly, his stature was that of a royal and the air about him made you treat him as such.
"Dr. Lecter, do you remember anything about the people who may have saw Mr. Hubbard's wound?"
"You have to remember, Will, that was the emergency room, I must have done at least twenty different operations and seen at least triple that number in patients, but I can tell you that the operation would have been done with no more than four or five others being able to see."
"Well, thank you, Dr. Lecter, I'll come by around nine o'clock tomorrow."
"That will be fine."