Disclaimer: The
characters of Hannibal Lecter, Clarice Starling, Jack Crawford and Paul
Krendler do not belong to me, but to Thomas Harris. No copyright
infringement intended. I don't see how I could make any money of it
anyway.
I'm just borrowing them for a ride. I'll turn them back. I promise ...
Or
maybe not ...
Chapter 3
Clarice had dropped by at her apartment just to change in something more suitable. She was now driving her Mustang in the streets of Washington. Finding the address of Mc Dougall had been easy. Crawford would probably be mad at her when he would discover she had searched his files, but for the moment she didn't care.
She passed the building where Mc Dougall was living and parked a few blocks away. The neighborhood was rather upper class. While walking in the streets, Clarice could smell the money everywhere. She was happy she had put on the only classy suit she had: she would have been easily spotted in one of her pairs of lousy jeans. As she was getting closer, she tried to find the agent Crawford had assigned to the surveillance of Mc Dougall. Without success.
She entered a little Chinese restaurant right in front of the building and asked for a table by the window. She was in no hurry. She ordered a dry Martini and the waiter brought her the menu. It was 8 pm and the streets were pretty crowded with people going back home.
She enjoyed her dinner. Food was good and the place was quiet. She had been peering outside for more than one hour when she finally noticed it. An old brown Chevrolet parked about thirty feet from the restaurant on the other side of the street. A man in his late forties had got into the car more than ten minutes before, but had not started the engine, and was not looking as if he was going soon. He was reading a newspaper and Clarice saw him glancing at the building entrance from time to time.
Clarice finished her desert and asked for a coffee and the bill. She generously tipped the waiter and went out. She had seen the building was equipped with an intercom. The door was probably locked and she could not afford to wait before it for someone to open it. Though she did not know the agent staking out in the chevy, she was sure her face was known enough for him to recognize her if she gave her a chance to.
She headed to a kid selling papers at the corner of the street. She bought him a copy of the Washington Post.
" - How would you like making ten dollars easily ?" she asked. The kid looked at her. She had got his attention. "You see that building over there ?" he nodded. "I need to get inside, discreetly.
- You don't really look like a burglar, miss. But I won't do anything illegal ... At least not for ten bugs ..."
She showed him her FBI id. He gave her a big smile.
" - Where I live, you can get this stuff for less than ten bugs, lady.
- This one is real.
...
- What am I supposed to do ?
- You get inside first. Use the intercom. Find an excuse. Get someone to open the door. Then, you wait for me in the hall, keeping the door slightly open.
- That's all ?
- That's all. When I'm inside, you get your money."
He thought for a while.
"- Twenty bugs" . She smiled.
"- Fifteen. And that's all you'll get from me. I can find someone else.
- Lady, you've got a deal."
Clarice crossed the street and started waiting, faking to be fascinated by a shop window. Two minutes later the kid was inside. She waited for a group of people to pass behind her and followed them. They would mask her from the agent in the car. In the twinkling of an eye, she was inside. She paid the kid and he left quickly.
She had a look at the mail boxes. Mc Dougall' s apartment was on the first floor. She went to the stairs. Clarice was not feeling sorry for what she was about to do. Yes, she had promised Crawford she would not intervene. But that was as an FBI agent. She was also a private person, whose name had been mentioned in a book without her authorization. And she was perfectly justified to go to the author and let him know what she thought of him.
If Clarice had managed to fool the FBI agent staking out at Mc Dougall' s place, she certainly got the attention of the man hiding in the alley at the corner of the building. He had seen her entering the restaurant, and had been carefully watching her since. He appreciated the way she managed entering the building and was very curious to see if she could make it out without being noticed.
It had been one year since he had last seen her, but he had followed her career with attention. She was looking good. A lazy smile ran on Hannibal Lecter' s face. Playing with the FBI was rather boring to him. But if Clarice Starling was around, then it was a completely different game. This could really become interesting, after all. They could have some fun ...
She knocked on the door. A vietnamese housemaid came and opened the door. She gave her her name and asked to see Mr. Mc Dougall. No, she did not have any appointment but she was sure Mr. Mc Dougall would see her. She was introduced into a little hall and waited there for a few seconds.
" - Agent Starling ! What an honor ! I never hoped to see you in my humble home. But I assure you it is a pleasure. Tell me, what can I do for you ?
- I need to talk to you, Mr. Mc Dougall.
- Sure. But please, come in. We will be more comfortable in the sitting room."
She followed him down a corridor, which walls were covered with famous paintings. Mostly bad copies, she thought. The man was very much what she expected. He was not much more than 5 ft tall, and was rather stout. He was younger than what she thought, though. Maybe thirty five ... forty at maximum. A pair of thick glasses was grotesquely magnifying his little black weasel eyes.
The sitting room was a nice surprise. It was cozy and tastefully furnished. He designated a large brown leather couch to her.
" - Please, sit down. Can I offer you a drink or something ?
- Nothing. Thank you."
He sat on a big armchair in front of her and took a sip of what looked like Cognac. A big brown cigar was smoking in an ashtray on the coffee table.
" - Do you mind my smoking ?" he asked courteously.
" - Not at all.
- So, you said you wanted to talk to me ?
- Yes, sir. About Hannibal Lecter.
- I see. Should I assume you have read my book, then ?
- I have.
- Umh ... And I guess you did not really ... appreciate it. Am I wrong ?
- No. But that's not what I came here for.
- What a pity ! I hoped maybe you could give me your opinion. After all, you are the only person having seen Lecter - how could I phrase it - in action ? And still able to talk about it. I'm sure you could reveal interesting information to me. Just in case I would want to write a second one ..."
The smile he gave her was openly lustful. Starling looked at him with disgust. She sure had some interesting information for him: if he went on looking at her this way, she would kill him before Lecter had a chance to do so.
" - You mean if Hannibal Lecter would let you write another one." Mc Dougall chuckled.
" - Do you really feel concerned about my safety, agent Starling ? I'm flattered.
- Don't. I suppose you know what happened to your agent ?
- I do. Inspector Simpson called me this afternoon. He also insisted that I accept his protection and sounded really disappointed when I refused.
- I don't think you should consider this so lightly, Mr. Mc Dougall. If Lecter is behind the disappearance of your publisher and your agent, you should seriously fear for your life.
- Should I ?
- I know Hannibal Lecter. As you pointed out, I've seen what he's able to do. I've seen him cutting through the brain of Paul Krendler without even blinking. You shouldn't think he would hesitate to kill you, or anybody he would feel offended by.
- And even if it was so, even if Lecter had killed Dubrowski and Frank, if Lecter had decided to kill me, do you honestly believe Simpson and his men would be able to protect me ?"
Mc Dougall was not wrong. Clarice knew it. She did not know what to answer. Mc Dougall profited by her silence to go on.
" I partly agree with you, agent Starling. Lecter has probably kidnapped my publisher and my agent. And he may have killed them by now. Maybe eaten them as well." The peace in his tone made Clarice shiver. He noticed it. "Don't take me wrong. I cared for these two men. They were my friends. But I'm being realistic: there's nothing I can do for them anymore. The real question, you see, is why did Lecter call on them instead of going for me ? If he really wanted to kill me, why didn't he just do so. I was as easy a prey as Jonathan or Frank. Easier maybe. So why didn't he just take me away ? Do you have an answer to this question, agent Starling ?"
It was the same question Clarice herself had put to Jack Crawford. But she hadn't an answer for it. At least not one she could believe in.
" - He may just want to play with you, Mr. Mc Dougall. Scare you to death before he gets to you.
- Come on, agent Starling. You know better. Lecter doesn't feed on fear, he feeds on pain. You know it.
- I guess you have an answer to your question, sir, haven't you ?"
He winked at her. Starling had to use all her self-control not to slap his face.
" I don't believe Hannibal Lecter wants to kill me anymore than he wants to kill you. I believe this was his answer to my book. I believe Lecter was flattered with it, and he wants to make me know. I am one of the few men on this earth who have understood him, and who he is. And I think he respects that."
Starling stared at him in disbelief. The only thing that could measure up with the man' s presumption was his stupidity. Crawford was right: you can't protect people against their will. And she now could add: you can't protect people against your will. She stood up.
" - Well, in that case I think I have nothing else to do here, Mr. Mc Dougall. I will leave and let you enjoy the rest of your evening. Sorry to have disturbed you.
- Not at all, agent Starling, not at all. It has been a real pleasure. I only regret you have to leave so soon. I hope you will come back.
- I don't think so, sir."
Clarice did not give him the time to escort her to the door. She left before he could add another word.
Once she had closed the door, Clarice stopped a few seconds to recollect her senses. The guy was a real asshole. Even worse than what she had expected from reading his book. Crawford was right: she should never have come. Now all she wanted to do was get out of here and forget everything about Mc Dougall or his 'friends', or Hannibal Lecter.
The cold made her chill when she went out. She pulled up the collar of her jacket and started to walk fast towards her car. She had only covered a few feet when she suddenly felt a hand grab on her face and pull her back quickly. She tried to set herself free from the grip but a second hand caught both her arms and immobilized her. She was now strongly maintained against a man' s chest. She tried to fight but soon realized her efforts were vain. The guy was stronger then her and she decided to save her forces. There was a moment of stillness and silence, but then the man started whispering in her ear.
"Our friend from the FBI is not far from your car now, Clarice. Considering how you entered the building, I figured out you were not particularly eager to make contact. Was I wrong ?"
Clarice froze. God, she would recognized this voice out of a thousand ones. She tried to release herself from his grip.
" Sh ... Stay quiet, Clarice. I realize how uncomfortable your position is and I apologize for this. I'm willing to help, but I need your word that you're not going to start screaming as soon as I remove my hand. Can I count on this ?" She nodded. "All right." he said and slowly he removed his hand from her mouth, only to let it rest a few inches lower, on her throat. She tried to turn to him but he firmly maintained her face in the opposite direction.
" - No, Clarice. You don't need to see me now.
- Dr. Lecter ...
- Yes ?
- What are you doing here, Dr. Lecter ?
- Well, I could ask you the same question, Clarice. If I'm not wrong, you are no more working for Jack Crawford, are you ? And your fellow agent there does. By the way, his name is Finch, Harold Finch. But I think his friend just call him Harry. I've been observing you for a while and I didn't get the impression that you were willing to talk with Harry. Were you ?"
Clarice did not answer. More than frightened, she was upset the man had spotted her so easily and that he always seemed to know what she was thinking. His mouth came closer to her ears.
" - Oh Clarice ! Don't tell me you were preoccupied by the health of Christopher Mc Dougall ...
- I had good reasons to be." she spat.
" - I see. You are probably referring to the unfortunate disappearance of Mr. Dubrowski and Mr. Sogliato.
- Are they dead, Dr. Lecter ?" He did not answer at once. "Are they dead ?
- What do you think, Clarice ? Really, I'm interested. Do you think I killed them ?
- I don't know, Dr. Lecter. Tell me.
- Well, Clarice, death is part of man' s destiny, isn't it ? Sometimes it comes sooner than one would expect, but who could say when or how death would strike ? But enough with this gloomy conversation. So, apparently you had a little discussion with Mr. Mc Dougall. How did you find him ? Did he try to seduce you ?
- He's a jerk. Definitely stupid and pretentious. Is this what you wanted to hear from me ?
...
- No. I was sincerely interested in your opinion. Have you read his book ?
- I have.
- Did you enjoy it ? I did. Tough I thought he was pretty unfair in the the chapter dedicated to you.
...
- All right. I already admitted I can't stand the man, but it does not mean I want him dead. What do you have in mind, Dr. Lecter ?
- I don't know yet, Clarice. I was just thinking of a few possible scenario." He paused. "One thing I'm curious about, though ... You and I know how much you've tried to put me behind bars again, how much efforts and courage you dedicated to my capture ... and yet some people go on calling you my fiancee. Why is that, do you think ? How do you feel about it, Clarice ?
- I don't feel about it, Dr. People are free to think what they want. I don't care.
- Yeah ... Brave Clarice ... Umh, I think the way to your car is safe, now. I can see Harry is back in his car. I would really like to go on with this conversation, but unfortunately, there are a few things I have to do. You can go home, now. Don't worry, I won't call on Mr. Mc Dougall. Not tonight, anyway. Good bye Clarice."
Before she could realize what was happening, his lips were on the back of her neck. He kissed her very softly. And then he was gone.
She turned back but the alley was as dark as coal. At one point, she thought she had seen something moving on her right, but the time she turned to it, it was quiet again.
"Dr. Lecter ?" she called out loud. But the only answer she got was the mewing of a cat. Instinctively, Clarice put her fingers to her neck, where she could still feel the heat of his kiss.
"God damn you, Dr. Lecter" she mumbled. Then she got to her car.
To be continued ... Thanks for reading. If you want to leave a review, feel free. If you don't, feel free the same.
Absolut.
Chapter 3
Clarice had dropped by at her apartment just to change in something more suitable. She was now driving her Mustang in the streets of Washington. Finding the address of Mc Dougall had been easy. Crawford would probably be mad at her when he would discover she had searched his files, but for the moment she didn't care.
She passed the building where Mc Dougall was living and parked a few blocks away. The neighborhood was rather upper class. While walking in the streets, Clarice could smell the money everywhere. She was happy she had put on the only classy suit she had: she would have been easily spotted in one of her pairs of lousy jeans. As she was getting closer, she tried to find the agent Crawford had assigned to the surveillance of Mc Dougall. Without success.
She entered a little Chinese restaurant right in front of the building and asked for a table by the window. She was in no hurry. She ordered a dry Martini and the waiter brought her the menu. It was 8 pm and the streets were pretty crowded with people going back home.
She enjoyed her dinner. Food was good and the place was quiet. She had been peering outside for more than one hour when she finally noticed it. An old brown Chevrolet parked about thirty feet from the restaurant on the other side of the street. A man in his late forties had got into the car more than ten minutes before, but had not started the engine, and was not looking as if he was going soon. He was reading a newspaper and Clarice saw him glancing at the building entrance from time to time.
Clarice finished her desert and asked for a coffee and the bill. She generously tipped the waiter and went out. She had seen the building was equipped with an intercom. The door was probably locked and she could not afford to wait before it for someone to open it. Though she did not know the agent staking out in the chevy, she was sure her face was known enough for him to recognize her if she gave her a chance to.
She headed to a kid selling papers at the corner of the street. She bought him a copy of the Washington Post.
" - How would you like making ten dollars easily ?" she asked. The kid looked at her. She had got his attention. "You see that building over there ?" he nodded. "I need to get inside, discreetly.
- You don't really look like a burglar, miss. But I won't do anything illegal ... At least not for ten bugs ..."
She showed him her FBI id. He gave her a big smile.
" - Where I live, you can get this stuff for less than ten bugs, lady.
- This one is real.
...
- What am I supposed to do ?
- You get inside first. Use the intercom. Find an excuse. Get someone to open the door. Then, you wait for me in the hall, keeping the door slightly open.
- That's all ?
- That's all. When I'm inside, you get your money."
He thought for a while.
"- Twenty bugs" . She smiled.
"- Fifteen. And that's all you'll get from me. I can find someone else.
- Lady, you've got a deal."
Clarice crossed the street and started waiting, faking to be fascinated by a shop window. Two minutes later the kid was inside. She waited for a group of people to pass behind her and followed them. They would mask her from the agent in the car. In the twinkling of an eye, she was inside. She paid the kid and he left quickly.
She had a look at the mail boxes. Mc Dougall' s apartment was on the first floor. She went to the stairs. Clarice was not feeling sorry for what she was about to do. Yes, she had promised Crawford she would not intervene. But that was as an FBI agent. She was also a private person, whose name had been mentioned in a book without her authorization. And she was perfectly justified to go to the author and let him know what she thought of him.
If Clarice had managed to fool the FBI agent staking out at Mc Dougall' s place, she certainly got the attention of the man hiding in the alley at the corner of the building. He had seen her entering the restaurant, and had been carefully watching her since. He appreciated the way she managed entering the building and was very curious to see if she could make it out without being noticed.
It had been one year since he had last seen her, but he had followed her career with attention. She was looking good. A lazy smile ran on Hannibal Lecter' s face. Playing with the FBI was rather boring to him. But if Clarice Starling was around, then it was a completely different game. This could really become interesting, after all. They could have some fun ...
She knocked on the door. A vietnamese housemaid came and opened the door. She gave her her name and asked to see Mr. Mc Dougall. No, she did not have any appointment but she was sure Mr. Mc Dougall would see her. She was introduced into a little hall and waited there for a few seconds.
" - Agent Starling ! What an honor ! I never hoped to see you in my humble home. But I assure you it is a pleasure. Tell me, what can I do for you ?
- I need to talk to you, Mr. Mc Dougall.
- Sure. But please, come in. We will be more comfortable in the sitting room."
She followed him down a corridor, which walls were covered with famous paintings. Mostly bad copies, she thought. The man was very much what she expected. He was not much more than 5 ft tall, and was rather stout. He was younger than what she thought, though. Maybe thirty five ... forty at maximum. A pair of thick glasses was grotesquely magnifying his little black weasel eyes.
The sitting room was a nice surprise. It was cozy and tastefully furnished. He designated a large brown leather couch to her.
" - Please, sit down. Can I offer you a drink or something ?
- Nothing. Thank you."
He sat on a big armchair in front of her and took a sip of what looked like Cognac. A big brown cigar was smoking in an ashtray on the coffee table.
" - Do you mind my smoking ?" he asked courteously.
" - Not at all.
- So, you said you wanted to talk to me ?
- Yes, sir. About Hannibal Lecter.
- I see. Should I assume you have read my book, then ?
- I have.
- Umh ... And I guess you did not really ... appreciate it. Am I wrong ?
- No. But that's not what I came here for.
- What a pity ! I hoped maybe you could give me your opinion. After all, you are the only person having seen Lecter - how could I phrase it - in action ? And still able to talk about it. I'm sure you could reveal interesting information to me. Just in case I would want to write a second one ..."
The smile he gave her was openly lustful. Starling looked at him with disgust. She sure had some interesting information for him: if he went on looking at her this way, she would kill him before Lecter had a chance to do so.
" - You mean if Hannibal Lecter would let you write another one." Mc Dougall chuckled.
" - Do you really feel concerned about my safety, agent Starling ? I'm flattered.
- Don't. I suppose you know what happened to your agent ?
- I do. Inspector Simpson called me this afternoon. He also insisted that I accept his protection and sounded really disappointed when I refused.
- I don't think you should consider this so lightly, Mr. Mc Dougall. If Lecter is behind the disappearance of your publisher and your agent, you should seriously fear for your life.
- Should I ?
- I know Hannibal Lecter. As you pointed out, I've seen what he's able to do. I've seen him cutting through the brain of Paul Krendler without even blinking. You shouldn't think he would hesitate to kill you, or anybody he would feel offended by.
- And even if it was so, even if Lecter had killed Dubrowski and Frank, if Lecter had decided to kill me, do you honestly believe Simpson and his men would be able to protect me ?"
Mc Dougall was not wrong. Clarice knew it. She did not know what to answer. Mc Dougall profited by her silence to go on.
" I partly agree with you, agent Starling. Lecter has probably kidnapped my publisher and my agent. And he may have killed them by now. Maybe eaten them as well." The peace in his tone made Clarice shiver. He noticed it. "Don't take me wrong. I cared for these two men. They were my friends. But I'm being realistic: there's nothing I can do for them anymore. The real question, you see, is why did Lecter call on them instead of going for me ? If he really wanted to kill me, why didn't he just do so. I was as easy a prey as Jonathan or Frank. Easier maybe. So why didn't he just take me away ? Do you have an answer to this question, agent Starling ?"
It was the same question Clarice herself had put to Jack Crawford. But she hadn't an answer for it. At least not one she could believe in.
" - He may just want to play with you, Mr. Mc Dougall. Scare you to death before he gets to you.
- Come on, agent Starling. You know better. Lecter doesn't feed on fear, he feeds on pain. You know it.
- I guess you have an answer to your question, sir, haven't you ?"
He winked at her. Starling had to use all her self-control not to slap his face.
" I don't believe Hannibal Lecter wants to kill me anymore than he wants to kill you. I believe this was his answer to my book. I believe Lecter was flattered with it, and he wants to make me know. I am one of the few men on this earth who have understood him, and who he is. And I think he respects that."
Starling stared at him in disbelief. The only thing that could measure up with the man' s presumption was his stupidity. Crawford was right: you can't protect people against their will. And she now could add: you can't protect people against your will. She stood up.
" - Well, in that case I think I have nothing else to do here, Mr. Mc Dougall. I will leave and let you enjoy the rest of your evening. Sorry to have disturbed you.
- Not at all, agent Starling, not at all. It has been a real pleasure. I only regret you have to leave so soon. I hope you will come back.
- I don't think so, sir."
Clarice did not give him the time to escort her to the door. She left before he could add another word.
Once she had closed the door, Clarice stopped a few seconds to recollect her senses. The guy was a real asshole. Even worse than what she had expected from reading his book. Crawford was right: she should never have come. Now all she wanted to do was get out of here and forget everything about Mc Dougall or his 'friends', or Hannibal Lecter.
The cold made her chill when she went out. She pulled up the collar of her jacket and started to walk fast towards her car. She had only covered a few feet when she suddenly felt a hand grab on her face and pull her back quickly. She tried to set herself free from the grip but a second hand caught both her arms and immobilized her. She was now strongly maintained against a man' s chest. She tried to fight but soon realized her efforts were vain. The guy was stronger then her and she decided to save her forces. There was a moment of stillness and silence, but then the man started whispering in her ear.
"Our friend from the FBI is not far from your car now, Clarice. Considering how you entered the building, I figured out you were not particularly eager to make contact. Was I wrong ?"
Clarice froze. God, she would recognized this voice out of a thousand ones. She tried to release herself from his grip.
" Sh ... Stay quiet, Clarice. I realize how uncomfortable your position is and I apologize for this. I'm willing to help, but I need your word that you're not going to start screaming as soon as I remove my hand. Can I count on this ?" She nodded. "All right." he said and slowly he removed his hand from her mouth, only to let it rest a few inches lower, on her throat. She tried to turn to him but he firmly maintained her face in the opposite direction.
" - No, Clarice. You don't need to see me now.
- Dr. Lecter ...
- Yes ?
- What are you doing here, Dr. Lecter ?
- Well, I could ask you the same question, Clarice. If I'm not wrong, you are no more working for Jack Crawford, are you ? And your fellow agent there does. By the way, his name is Finch, Harold Finch. But I think his friend just call him Harry. I've been observing you for a while and I didn't get the impression that you were willing to talk with Harry. Were you ?"
Clarice did not answer. More than frightened, she was upset the man had spotted her so easily and that he always seemed to know what she was thinking. His mouth came closer to her ears.
" - Oh Clarice ! Don't tell me you were preoccupied by the health of Christopher Mc Dougall ...
- I had good reasons to be." she spat.
" - I see. You are probably referring to the unfortunate disappearance of Mr. Dubrowski and Mr. Sogliato.
- Are they dead, Dr. Lecter ?" He did not answer at once. "Are they dead ?
- What do you think, Clarice ? Really, I'm interested. Do you think I killed them ?
- I don't know, Dr. Lecter. Tell me.
- Well, Clarice, death is part of man' s destiny, isn't it ? Sometimes it comes sooner than one would expect, but who could say when or how death would strike ? But enough with this gloomy conversation. So, apparently you had a little discussion with Mr. Mc Dougall. How did you find him ? Did he try to seduce you ?
- He's a jerk. Definitely stupid and pretentious. Is this what you wanted to hear from me ?
...
- No. I was sincerely interested in your opinion. Have you read his book ?
- I have.
- Did you enjoy it ? I did. Tough I thought he was pretty unfair in the the chapter dedicated to you.
...
- All right. I already admitted I can't stand the man, but it does not mean I want him dead. What do you have in mind, Dr. Lecter ?
- I don't know yet, Clarice. I was just thinking of a few possible scenario." He paused. "One thing I'm curious about, though ... You and I know how much you've tried to put me behind bars again, how much efforts and courage you dedicated to my capture ... and yet some people go on calling you my fiancee. Why is that, do you think ? How do you feel about it, Clarice ?
- I don't feel about it, Dr. People are free to think what they want. I don't care.
- Yeah ... Brave Clarice ... Umh, I think the way to your car is safe, now. I can see Harry is back in his car. I would really like to go on with this conversation, but unfortunately, there are a few things I have to do. You can go home, now. Don't worry, I won't call on Mr. Mc Dougall. Not tonight, anyway. Good bye Clarice."
Before she could realize what was happening, his lips were on the back of her neck. He kissed her very softly. And then he was gone.
She turned back but the alley was as dark as coal. At one point, she thought she had seen something moving on her right, but the time she turned to it, it was quiet again.
"Dr. Lecter ?" she called out loud. But the only answer she got was the mewing of a cat. Instinctively, Clarice put her fingers to her neck, where she could still feel the heat of his kiss.
"God damn you, Dr. Lecter" she mumbled. Then she got to her car.
To be continued ... Thanks for reading. If you want to leave a review, feel free. If you don't, feel free the same.
Absolut.