What About The Girl?
By Risty Maskell
Disclaimer: If you recognise it, I don't own it. If you don't recognise it, it's mine.
Summary: It's getting more intriguing...even to me! Thanks again to twistedmind for her brilliant input and ideas. You're great, twistedmind.
~*~*~
1995
~*~*~
"Hey Juli!" Alex called. "Phone call! Some guy from America!"
Juliette ran down the stairs, dressed in a denim skirt and a button down shirt. Her hair was tied back in a long pony tail. She picked up the phone.
"Hello?"
"Juliette! Thank God!" Thomas said sounding rather anxious.
"Hi Tom, What's wrong?" Juliette asked, waving Alex out of the way. "Alex! Private conversation!"
"Ooooooooh! Details!" Alex said, dodging a slap and headed toward the kitchen.
"Shut up, Alex! Okay, what's wrong, Tom?"
"You're dad escaped last night." Juliette was silent for a minute, shock evident. "Juliette? Are you still there?"
"Yeah... yeah, Tom. I'm here." She said, feeling surprisingly calm. "What happened?"
"I can't tell you that, you know that, Juliette."
"He's my father, Tom! Tell me!" Juliette hissed, sounding more and more like her father.
"Juliette calm down. Okay, I've got Officer Starling with me a the moment, she said she'll tell you what's going on. She's been interviewing your Dad for the last six months, okay?"
"Okay."
"Hi, Juliette, is it?" Clarice Starling said into the phone.
"Yes, Officer Starling, what happened to my dad?"
"Juliette, I was never told Dr Lecter had a daughter, but Thomas has told me you know what he has done."
"Yes." Juliette said, almost whispering.
"You're father killed the two officers that were guarding him." Starling explained carefully, so as not to frighten the child. "He escaped by pretending to be one of the officers and then killed two paramedics and a tourist. Look, I want you to be very careful."
"Why?" Juliette said. "I'm his daughter."
"I just want you to be careful. You're dad is a dangerous man."
"You'd better be careful too, Officer Starling." Juliette said, not really knowing what she was saying. "If you know my dad as well as I do, you'd better taking your own advice."
"I apreciate the concern, Juliette." Clarice said, smiling.
"Thank you for telling me, Officer Starling." She said politely.
"That's all right." Starling handed the phone back to Thomas.
"I hope you appreciate this." He joked weakly when he spoke into the phone. "Your dad's a dangerous fellow."
"I know." Juliette said. "Bye Thomas."
"Goodbye. Remember. Be careful."
"I will... bye."
They hung up. Juliette ran up the stairs to her shared bedroom. Part of her wanted to leap for joy that her father was free... even though he was a wanted man. The other part wanted to scream and cry with fear that he would kill again. She lay down on her bed. Should I tell them that he's escaped? She asked herself, looking out the window, as if to see her father standing there, watching her window. Of course he wasn't there. She got up after a while. I'll tell them... she thought. She went down the stairs and into the kitchen. Alex looked up expectently.
"Where's the details?" She asked, eyes gleaming. Juliette managed to laugh.
"Thomas was my guardian when I was in the States!" She said, shaking her head and laughing. Alex's face dropped from it's silly grin.
"Oh, no fun. What did he want?"
"Oh... umm... just to say hello."
"Oh come on! He sounded really anxious! Spill your beans!"
"He justed wanted to see how I was doing..." Juliette said, digging through her mind to find a good excuse.
"C'mon! Truth!"
"Okay... I rang him last night because I was just feeling a little down. They weren't home so I left a message on their machine... I guess Tom just was just worried about me." Good call...
"Oh... what were you upset about?"
"Just some stuff... between me and them, y'know?"
"Oh okay." Alex smiled. "Hey, you wanna go down and get a gelato from Signora Bellocchi?"
"Sure! Where are Renee and Tim?"
"Upstairs."
"Let's take them with us. We could all use an ice cream, I think." Juliette said, heading for the stairs.
"Yeah, all right." Alex stood at the base of the stairs. "Hey! Renee! Tim! Want to come for gelati?"
The two youngest came running down the stairs, grinning. "Yeah!" Said Renee. "I want a chocolate one!"
"And I want a Vanilla!" Tim said. Alex laughed.
"Okay, let's go!"
~
It had been so easy to escape from Memphis. Hannibal's quick-to-draw mind had developed a scenario in his head as he had chewed thoughtfully on the clip of the pen he'd stolen from Chilton. Now, here he was, sitting calmly next to a little shanty in front of the Buenos Ares airport, talking to Clarice on the telephone, watching his "friend" walk off the plane.
"I have no plans to call on you, Clarice. The world's more interesting with you in it. So you take care now to extend me the same courtesy." He said, eyes bright behind his dark glasses.
"You know I can't make that promise." Clarice said, her voice quiet.
"I do wish we could chat longer, but... I'm having an old friend for dinner.. Bye." His face still expressionless, he gently put the phone down and got up, following Chilton from far back, leaving about thirty feet between them. Chilton was walking quickly, wanting to get to his hotel. Hannibal watched, almost lazily as Chilton went into his hotel and got ready for a night out to dinner.
While waiting, Hannibal peered at one of the many merchents, selling thier wares. His eyes traveled over the many necklaces, bracelets, brooches, earrings, pendents and rings. His gaze stopped on a silver braclet, engraved with intricate designs. He smiled slightly.
"Cuánto es esa pulsera?" He asked the merchent, a small man with oily black hair and deep brown eyes.
"Que es trescientas Pesetas." the merchent said, a wily grin on his face. Hannibal handed over the money without so much as a frown. The merchent rolled his eyes. Rich Americans.
Hannibal watched the man put the bracelet in a box and handed it to him. "Gracias." He said and walked away, toward the hotel. Chilton came out, two Spanish policemen following him, each of them wearing an expression that said they didn't know why this guy needed protection. Chilton walked along, seemingly gaining more confidence with each step he took. He came to a small eat-in place and went in to order a meal. Hannibal went into a small shop across from the eat-in and looked at the wares, the shopkeepers children playing with a few small rough-cut toys in the corner. He smiled at them. The two Spanish policemen had obviously thought Chilton was safe now and had returned to where they'd come from. Chilton seemed not to notice. He was busy ordering what he wanted to a young woman of about twenty-five. Hannibal snorted quietly. That man would hit on anything of the female variety. He'd heard from Barney that Chilton even tried to hit on Agent Starling. He shook his head and kept looking at the wares. Time passed and a younger woman, of about eighteen came up to Hannibal, who'd been looking at another display for the past five minutes.
"Puedo le ayudo con cualquier cosa, sir?" She asked politely. "Estamos a punto de cerrar la tienda. Quizás usted puede venir otra vez mañana si usted no ha encontrado lo que usted está buscando?"
Hannibal smiled at her and nodded his head. "Sí, pienso que me volveré mañana. Adiós."
"Adiós!" The young woman said with a smile and Hannibal exited the shop, still watching Chilton. Chilton seemed to have finished his dinner and was about to leave. Hannibal quickly slipped into the growing shadows and waited for Chilton to pass. Not many people were outside now, as mosquitoes were rather bad and other bugs were begining their usual cycle of the lights that lit the street. The insects didn't bother Hannibal, thought they did Chilton who kept waving a hand in front of his face to be rid of them. As he passed where Hannibal was hiding, the Good Doctor reached out with a cloroform-soaked rag and caught a surprised, struggling Chilton as the man stumbled. After struggling weakly and breathing in heavy bursts of the cloroform, Chilton finally fell unconcious. Hannibal dragged him to a small shack that was quite near.
~
Chilton woke with a jump. Where was he? He blinked and squinted his eyes... what was that? A man? with longish blonde hair... do I know someone with blonde hair? he asked himself. The image got a little sharper. Still, Chilton couldn't make out who it was.
"Hello, Fredick." Came that voice. Chilton stiffened, and it was then he realised he was bound to a chair with electrical tape, tape also over his mouth so he couldn't scream. "Ahh, I see you've realised your bonds. Good. I thought I might have to tell you outright."
He wanted to say 'Hannibal, let me out of these bonds and I swear I won't tell the police!', but all that came out was "Mmmmphh! Mrummmmph!"
"No no, don't struggle, it could result very painfully." Hannibal said, smiling. "Now then, what to do? You know, I've always wondered what I'd do with a man like you. Arrogant, rude, odious and badly dressed." He said as if one were discussing the weather. Chilton went visibly white with fear. Hannibal noticed this and grinned evilly. "But I don't know... perhaps I will eat your kidney with some nice buttered mushrooms and a delectable red wine..." Chilton struggled against his bonds, almost crying from the pain as the tape ripped at his flesh. "No? Then perhaps a nice bicep with pepper sauce." Hannibal said, chuckling.
Chilton was panicking. The man was psychotic! He was gonna eat him! Hannibal came forward, a small, wicked looking Harpy in his hand. Chilton almost cried with fright and struggled all the more. Hannibal smiled and held the Harpy to Chilton's throat. The man stopped struggling instantly.
"Good." Lecter said, pressing the Harpy gently to Chilton's throat. "Now, what to do..." He seemed to think aloud. Chilton was to afraid to move. Hannibal took the Harpy away and ran it down Chilton's cheek, a line of blood following the curve of the man's face eagerly. Chilton wimpered. Hannibal didn't seem to notice. "Dear me, Fredrick, I don't know what to do." He said, looking at the Harpy. "I've no idea what to do..." He said, idly running the blade down Chilton's other cheek. Blood flowed down Chilton's cheek and drip onto his shirt.Chilton's eyes were wide with fear. Hannibal smiled at the man's reaction. Suddenly, he launched forward and bit down on Chilton's ear. The former director's scream was muffled by the tape. The entire top of his ear had been bitten off and Hannibal was lazily chewing on it before spitting it out on the floor.
"Oh dear, Fredrick, you're bleeding." He said, almost mockingly. Chilton's vision was becoming hazy as the blood ran freely down his neck. He looked up weakly, wincing from the pain in his ear. "You can still hear me, can't you?" Lecter said, in a death-quiet whisper. Chilton nodded weakly. "Well," Hannibal said, leaning in close to Chilton's other ear. "Now you know how I treat rude people..." He whispered and without another word, the Harpy slid quickly across Chilton's throat and killed him.
Hannibal looked calmly at the body of the former director and wiped his face with the hankerchief that was in Chilton's pocket.
~
The plane landed with a slight bump in Paris, France. Dr Rich Naletblena looked up from the magazine he'd been reading and smiled slightly. Ahh Paris, the city of love. Certainly in his case, because he'd met his wife here. He stepped off the plane, smiling at the stewardess and went to the luggage round-about to wait for his suitcase.
He picked up his suitcase and went outside to the taxi rank. Hailing a cab, he went to his hotel, where he had met his wife. He smiled at the clerk, a young woman.
"Bonjour, mon nom est Naletblena Riche, j'ont le livre une salle pendant quelques nuits?" he asked.
The woman looked through her bookings and nodded, smiling. "Oui, M. Naletblena, vous êtes dans la chambre 365 sur le quatrième plancher."
"Merci." He said, charming smile in place, taking the key she handed to him and heading toward the elevator. He found his room and set his suitcase down before sitting on the bed. He opened the case and took the small box containing the bracelet and smiled. In the morning, he'd post it to Juliette, but how? Then he smiled, a thought coming to him. Las Vegas remailing service. He chuckled as he wrapped the small box in brown paper and picked up a pen. He wrote the name and address on the paper and set in on the table so he wouldn't forget it. Not that he would, anyway. He chuckled. Getting up from his seat on the bed, he went over to a window, where an armchair was situated. He sat down, closing his eyes and entering his 'Memory Palace'.
As he walked around in his mind, he entered the 'Angela Room', seeing images of his beloved wife, who's life had so tragically been taken from her. There she was, in his eyes as they danced when they had first met. In the background was her date, glaring daggers as the two looked so happy together. And there again, Angela was boarding the plane with her sister, looking back at him, tears evidently rolling down her cheeks. He had given her his hankerchief and promised they'd see each other again. Another image surfaced. Angela, looking so happy as she walked down the isle on her father's arm. He was watching her from the alter, smiling. It was their wedding day. There they were again, walking back down the isle and outthe doors as people threw rice and confetti, cheering. More and more images welled up in his mind. Angela heavily pregnant with Juliette, Angela holding the baby girl in her arms at the hospital, Angela reading by the fire, the light reflecting off her long black hair, making it look like a Christmas card. He put a hand to his face, and realised he was crying. He wiped the tears away and walked into the 'Juliette Room'. There were images of Juliette there that he hadn't seen in years.
Juliette, sitting in the bathtub while her mother bathed her, Juliette's first Christmas, dressed in a pretty little blue jump suit, sitting in her mothers lap. Juliette asleep in her cot. Juliette looking at picture books of brown bears and yellow ducks, Julitte in her pretty frock with the blue flowers when she'd first come to see him in the prison, Juliette fiddling with her long braid on a cold afternoon, wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, down in the dungeon, and the last image, Juliette down in the dungeon, glaring at Miggs, who'd said something derogatory about her. She'd told Barney about it and Miggs had been taken into isolation for a period of five days, luckily or else Hannibal would have killed him for sure. He put a hand to his eyes and wiped a few stray tears from his cheeks and opened his eyes. The room was dark, which showed how long he'd been thinking. He looked at the clock, it was seven o'clock and Rich remembered that he had a reservation at Restaurant De Tour D'Eifle at seven thirty. He got up and smoothed the wrinkles out of his tux, before showering and changing.
As he walked down the street, he looked around him. This part of the city hadn't really changed much. He smiled to himself and entered the restaurant. A waiter came scurrying toward him.
"Bonsoir, vous avez une réservation?" He said, his clipped moustache a thin line across his upper lip.
"Oui. Rich Naletblena." He said and the waiter's eyes widened.
"Ahh, oui, Monsieur Naletblena! De cette façon, svp!" The waiter grabbed a menu and led Rich to a table by the window. Rich sat down and smiled.
"Puis j'avoir un verre de 'Quand Les Rêves Viennent Vrai'?" He asked. The waiter nodded.
"Naturellement, monsieur." The waiter said, hurrying to complete the order. Rich sat back and looked at the menu, finally choosing the exact same he'd eaten the night he'd met Angela for the very first time.
By Risty Maskell
Disclaimer: If you recognise it, I don't own it. If you don't recognise it, it's mine.
Summary: It's getting more intriguing...even to me! Thanks again to twistedmind for her brilliant input and ideas. You're great, twistedmind.
~*~*~
1995
~*~*~
"Hey Juli!" Alex called. "Phone call! Some guy from America!"
Juliette ran down the stairs, dressed in a denim skirt and a button down shirt. Her hair was tied back in a long pony tail. She picked up the phone.
"Hello?"
"Juliette! Thank God!" Thomas said sounding rather anxious.
"Hi Tom, What's wrong?" Juliette asked, waving Alex out of the way. "Alex! Private conversation!"
"Ooooooooh! Details!" Alex said, dodging a slap and headed toward the kitchen.
"Shut up, Alex! Okay, what's wrong, Tom?"
"You're dad escaped last night." Juliette was silent for a minute, shock evident. "Juliette? Are you still there?"
"Yeah... yeah, Tom. I'm here." She said, feeling surprisingly calm. "What happened?"
"I can't tell you that, you know that, Juliette."
"He's my father, Tom! Tell me!" Juliette hissed, sounding more and more like her father.
"Juliette calm down. Okay, I've got Officer Starling with me a the moment, she said she'll tell you what's going on. She's been interviewing your Dad for the last six months, okay?"
"Okay."
"Hi, Juliette, is it?" Clarice Starling said into the phone.
"Yes, Officer Starling, what happened to my dad?"
"Juliette, I was never told Dr Lecter had a daughter, but Thomas has told me you know what he has done."
"Yes." Juliette said, almost whispering.
"You're father killed the two officers that were guarding him." Starling explained carefully, so as not to frighten the child. "He escaped by pretending to be one of the officers and then killed two paramedics and a tourist. Look, I want you to be very careful."
"Why?" Juliette said. "I'm his daughter."
"I just want you to be careful. You're dad is a dangerous man."
"You'd better be careful too, Officer Starling." Juliette said, not really knowing what she was saying. "If you know my dad as well as I do, you'd better taking your own advice."
"I apreciate the concern, Juliette." Clarice said, smiling.
"Thank you for telling me, Officer Starling." She said politely.
"That's all right." Starling handed the phone back to Thomas.
"I hope you appreciate this." He joked weakly when he spoke into the phone. "Your dad's a dangerous fellow."
"I know." Juliette said. "Bye Thomas."
"Goodbye. Remember. Be careful."
"I will... bye."
They hung up. Juliette ran up the stairs to her shared bedroom. Part of her wanted to leap for joy that her father was free... even though he was a wanted man. The other part wanted to scream and cry with fear that he would kill again. She lay down on her bed. Should I tell them that he's escaped? She asked herself, looking out the window, as if to see her father standing there, watching her window. Of course he wasn't there. She got up after a while. I'll tell them... she thought. She went down the stairs and into the kitchen. Alex looked up expectently.
"Where's the details?" She asked, eyes gleaming. Juliette managed to laugh.
"Thomas was my guardian when I was in the States!" She said, shaking her head and laughing. Alex's face dropped from it's silly grin.
"Oh, no fun. What did he want?"
"Oh... umm... just to say hello."
"Oh come on! He sounded really anxious! Spill your beans!"
"He justed wanted to see how I was doing..." Juliette said, digging through her mind to find a good excuse.
"C'mon! Truth!"
"Okay... I rang him last night because I was just feeling a little down. They weren't home so I left a message on their machine... I guess Tom just was just worried about me." Good call...
"Oh... what were you upset about?"
"Just some stuff... between me and them, y'know?"
"Oh okay." Alex smiled. "Hey, you wanna go down and get a gelato from Signora Bellocchi?"
"Sure! Where are Renee and Tim?"
"Upstairs."
"Let's take them with us. We could all use an ice cream, I think." Juliette said, heading for the stairs.
"Yeah, all right." Alex stood at the base of the stairs. "Hey! Renee! Tim! Want to come for gelati?"
The two youngest came running down the stairs, grinning. "Yeah!" Said Renee. "I want a chocolate one!"
"And I want a Vanilla!" Tim said. Alex laughed.
"Okay, let's go!"
~
It had been so easy to escape from Memphis. Hannibal's quick-to-draw mind had developed a scenario in his head as he had chewed thoughtfully on the clip of the pen he'd stolen from Chilton. Now, here he was, sitting calmly next to a little shanty in front of the Buenos Ares airport, talking to Clarice on the telephone, watching his "friend" walk off the plane.
"I have no plans to call on you, Clarice. The world's more interesting with you in it. So you take care now to extend me the same courtesy." He said, eyes bright behind his dark glasses.
"You know I can't make that promise." Clarice said, her voice quiet.
"I do wish we could chat longer, but... I'm having an old friend for dinner.. Bye." His face still expressionless, he gently put the phone down and got up, following Chilton from far back, leaving about thirty feet between them. Chilton was walking quickly, wanting to get to his hotel. Hannibal watched, almost lazily as Chilton went into his hotel and got ready for a night out to dinner.
While waiting, Hannibal peered at one of the many merchents, selling thier wares. His eyes traveled over the many necklaces, bracelets, brooches, earrings, pendents and rings. His gaze stopped on a silver braclet, engraved with intricate designs. He smiled slightly.
"Cuánto es esa pulsera?" He asked the merchent, a small man with oily black hair and deep brown eyes.
"Que es trescientas Pesetas." the merchent said, a wily grin on his face. Hannibal handed over the money without so much as a frown. The merchent rolled his eyes. Rich Americans.
Hannibal watched the man put the bracelet in a box and handed it to him. "Gracias." He said and walked away, toward the hotel. Chilton came out, two Spanish policemen following him, each of them wearing an expression that said they didn't know why this guy needed protection. Chilton walked along, seemingly gaining more confidence with each step he took. He came to a small eat-in place and went in to order a meal. Hannibal went into a small shop across from the eat-in and looked at the wares, the shopkeepers children playing with a few small rough-cut toys in the corner. He smiled at them. The two Spanish policemen had obviously thought Chilton was safe now and had returned to where they'd come from. Chilton seemed not to notice. He was busy ordering what he wanted to a young woman of about twenty-five. Hannibal snorted quietly. That man would hit on anything of the female variety. He'd heard from Barney that Chilton even tried to hit on Agent Starling. He shook his head and kept looking at the wares. Time passed and a younger woman, of about eighteen came up to Hannibal, who'd been looking at another display for the past five minutes.
"Puedo le ayudo con cualquier cosa, sir?" She asked politely. "Estamos a punto de cerrar la tienda. Quizás usted puede venir otra vez mañana si usted no ha encontrado lo que usted está buscando?"
Hannibal smiled at her and nodded his head. "Sí, pienso que me volveré mañana. Adiós."
"Adiós!" The young woman said with a smile and Hannibal exited the shop, still watching Chilton. Chilton seemed to have finished his dinner and was about to leave. Hannibal quickly slipped into the growing shadows and waited for Chilton to pass. Not many people were outside now, as mosquitoes were rather bad and other bugs were begining their usual cycle of the lights that lit the street. The insects didn't bother Hannibal, thought they did Chilton who kept waving a hand in front of his face to be rid of them. As he passed where Hannibal was hiding, the Good Doctor reached out with a cloroform-soaked rag and caught a surprised, struggling Chilton as the man stumbled. After struggling weakly and breathing in heavy bursts of the cloroform, Chilton finally fell unconcious. Hannibal dragged him to a small shack that was quite near.
~
Chilton woke with a jump. Where was he? He blinked and squinted his eyes... what was that? A man? with longish blonde hair... do I know someone with blonde hair? he asked himself. The image got a little sharper. Still, Chilton couldn't make out who it was.
"Hello, Fredick." Came that voice. Chilton stiffened, and it was then he realised he was bound to a chair with electrical tape, tape also over his mouth so he couldn't scream. "Ahh, I see you've realised your bonds. Good. I thought I might have to tell you outright."
He wanted to say 'Hannibal, let me out of these bonds and I swear I won't tell the police!', but all that came out was "Mmmmphh! Mrummmmph!"
"No no, don't struggle, it could result very painfully." Hannibal said, smiling. "Now then, what to do? You know, I've always wondered what I'd do with a man like you. Arrogant, rude, odious and badly dressed." He said as if one were discussing the weather. Chilton went visibly white with fear. Hannibal noticed this and grinned evilly. "But I don't know... perhaps I will eat your kidney with some nice buttered mushrooms and a delectable red wine..." Chilton struggled against his bonds, almost crying from the pain as the tape ripped at his flesh. "No? Then perhaps a nice bicep with pepper sauce." Hannibal said, chuckling.
Chilton was panicking. The man was psychotic! He was gonna eat him! Hannibal came forward, a small, wicked looking Harpy in his hand. Chilton almost cried with fright and struggled all the more. Hannibal smiled and held the Harpy to Chilton's throat. The man stopped struggling instantly.
"Good." Lecter said, pressing the Harpy gently to Chilton's throat. "Now, what to do..." He seemed to think aloud. Chilton was to afraid to move. Hannibal took the Harpy away and ran it down Chilton's cheek, a line of blood following the curve of the man's face eagerly. Chilton wimpered. Hannibal didn't seem to notice. "Dear me, Fredrick, I don't know what to do." He said, looking at the Harpy. "I've no idea what to do..." He said, idly running the blade down Chilton's other cheek. Blood flowed down Chilton's cheek and drip onto his shirt.Chilton's eyes were wide with fear. Hannibal smiled at the man's reaction. Suddenly, he launched forward and bit down on Chilton's ear. The former director's scream was muffled by the tape. The entire top of his ear had been bitten off and Hannibal was lazily chewing on it before spitting it out on the floor.
"Oh dear, Fredrick, you're bleeding." He said, almost mockingly. Chilton's vision was becoming hazy as the blood ran freely down his neck. He looked up weakly, wincing from the pain in his ear. "You can still hear me, can't you?" Lecter said, in a death-quiet whisper. Chilton nodded weakly. "Well," Hannibal said, leaning in close to Chilton's other ear. "Now you know how I treat rude people..." He whispered and without another word, the Harpy slid quickly across Chilton's throat and killed him.
Hannibal looked calmly at the body of the former director and wiped his face with the hankerchief that was in Chilton's pocket.
~
The plane landed with a slight bump in Paris, France. Dr Rich Naletblena looked up from the magazine he'd been reading and smiled slightly. Ahh Paris, the city of love. Certainly in his case, because he'd met his wife here. He stepped off the plane, smiling at the stewardess and went to the luggage round-about to wait for his suitcase.
He picked up his suitcase and went outside to the taxi rank. Hailing a cab, he went to his hotel, where he had met his wife. He smiled at the clerk, a young woman.
"Bonjour, mon nom est Naletblena Riche, j'ont le livre une salle pendant quelques nuits?" he asked.
The woman looked through her bookings and nodded, smiling. "Oui, M. Naletblena, vous êtes dans la chambre 365 sur le quatrième plancher."
"Merci." He said, charming smile in place, taking the key she handed to him and heading toward the elevator. He found his room and set his suitcase down before sitting on the bed. He opened the case and took the small box containing the bracelet and smiled. In the morning, he'd post it to Juliette, but how? Then he smiled, a thought coming to him. Las Vegas remailing service. He chuckled as he wrapped the small box in brown paper and picked up a pen. He wrote the name and address on the paper and set in on the table so he wouldn't forget it. Not that he would, anyway. He chuckled. Getting up from his seat on the bed, he went over to a window, where an armchair was situated. He sat down, closing his eyes and entering his 'Memory Palace'.
As he walked around in his mind, he entered the 'Angela Room', seeing images of his beloved wife, who's life had so tragically been taken from her. There she was, in his eyes as they danced when they had first met. In the background was her date, glaring daggers as the two looked so happy together. And there again, Angela was boarding the plane with her sister, looking back at him, tears evidently rolling down her cheeks. He had given her his hankerchief and promised they'd see each other again. Another image surfaced. Angela, looking so happy as she walked down the isle on her father's arm. He was watching her from the alter, smiling. It was their wedding day. There they were again, walking back down the isle and outthe doors as people threw rice and confetti, cheering. More and more images welled up in his mind. Angela heavily pregnant with Juliette, Angela holding the baby girl in her arms at the hospital, Angela reading by the fire, the light reflecting off her long black hair, making it look like a Christmas card. He put a hand to his face, and realised he was crying. He wiped the tears away and walked into the 'Juliette Room'. There were images of Juliette there that he hadn't seen in years.
Juliette, sitting in the bathtub while her mother bathed her, Juliette's first Christmas, dressed in a pretty little blue jump suit, sitting in her mothers lap. Juliette asleep in her cot. Juliette looking at picture books of brown bears and yellow ducks, Julitte in her pretty frock with the blue flowers when she'd first come to see him in the prison, Juliette fiddling with her long braid on a cold afternoon, wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, down in the dungeon, and the last image, Juliette down in the dungeon, glaring at Miggs, who'd said something derogatory about her. She'd told Barney about it and Miggs had been taken into isolation for a period of five days, luckily or else Hannibal would have killed him for sure. He put a hand to his eyes and wiped a few stray tears from his cheeks and opened his eyes. The room was dark, which showed how long he'd been thinking. He looked at the clock, it was seven o'clock and Rich remembered that he had a reservation at Restaurant De Tour D'Eifle at seven thirty. He got up and smoothed the wrinkles out of his tux, before showering and changing.
As he walked down the street, he looked around him. This part of the city hadn't really changed much. He smiled to himself and entered the restaurant. A waiter came scurrying toward him.
"Bonsoir, vous avez une réservation?" He said, his clipped moustache a thin line across his upper lip.
"Oui. Rich Naletblena." He said and the waiter's eyes widened.
"Ahh, oui, Monsieur Naletblena! De cette façon, svp!" The waiter grabbed a menu and led Rich to a table by the window. Rich sat down and smiled.
"Puis j'avoir un verre de 'Quand Les Rêves Viennent Vrai'?" He asked. The waiter nodded.
"Naturellement, monsieur." The waiter said, hurrying to complete the order. Rich sat back and looked at the menu, finally choosing the exact same he'd eaten the night he'd met Angela for the very first time.