I still own nothing. Everyone in the story belongs to T. Harris.
Once again, I want to thank all the readers. SPECIALLY does that were kind enough to take the time to comment: Deoceres, Marcus Aurelius, Cristina, Drandmrslecter, Mizuko, LoT, Ducki, Princess Bemidia, Rivan Knight, Steel and Shattered Mug.
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Exchanges XIII
Chance Encounter
Following the Dr's suggestion Clarice moved her clothes to the master bedroom right after breakfast. She was amused to find an empty closet and chest of drawers waiting for he clothes.
"Did you intentionally leave these empty for me?" she asked
"I was hopeful," he responded with a grin.
Starling was beginning to enjoy his sense of humor. She appreciated his attention to every possible detail that would make her feel at home.
He is my home now, she though, marveled at the oddity of it all
Hannibal gave her a tour of the whole house, and they decided to go to town to buy her a few more turtleneck sweaters and a pea jacket and call Barney from a public phone.
"I'll treat you to lunch," winked a most gracious Hannibal Lecter .
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It as seven o'clock in the evening in Baltimore when the Barney's phone rang. He answered on the third ring.
"Hello Barney, do you remember me?"
"I was beginning to worry about you," said Barney, "Is everything alright with you?. Did you meet our common friend?"
"Oh yes I'm fine, thank you Barney," he could hear the smile in her voice and it warmed his heart. "Yes, he is right here beside me, and will talk to you in a minute. We are fine."
"I have been hearing some disturbing news on TV," his voice didn't quite hide his concern.
"Regarding either of us?," asked Clarice.
"No, regarding that man at the airport"
"Oh, yes," said Clarice making light of it, " we saw it too, who would have guessed, ah?" And then added " When we saw it in the news, late last night, we thought you might worry."
Barney didn't miss her repeated use of the word we, they were a we now, he said to himself, grinning affectionately.
"Barney, your chum here seems eager to talk to you, I'm going to put him on. Hopefully we will see you sometime soon. Take care"
"You too," Barney was a man of few words.
"Hello, Barney", the metallic quality of the familiar voice seemed to have softened a bit, "Just thought I'd put your mind at ease regarding Clarice's well-being. And, if you would agree to be our guest, we could make arrangements for the meeting I promised. Just name a date, at your convenience. Preferably in the near future".
"Our guest." Barney found it touching, the way they expressed their togetherness. As if the newly acquired intimacy had smoothed the hard edges of both their personalities. It changed them.
"I would be happy to accept your invitation. I have a few vacation days left and I could use them three weeks or four weeks from now, if that is not too soon." Barney showed undisguised enthusiasm at the thought of a meeting.
"That would be fine," said the Dr. "we'll be in touch. Say, in a week? In the meantime, if you need to contact us, just place an add in the national edition of the Times, and in the International Herald Tribune address it to AAA Gourmet, MD, sign it Man in White."
"OK, Dr. I'll schedule my vacation, I definitely will know in a week. If I know sooner, I'll post the add." He paused, then added, candidly, "This is a very special treat and I'm looking forwards to it."
"So am I, Barney, I most certainly am" said an affable Hannibal Lecter.
"Ta for now."
"How ironic, that in the end it is he who captured her instead of the other way around" Reflected Barney "However improbable it might have appeared at the time, when he started impressing her from his cage in the insane asylum."
"Come to think about it," he said to himself. "She couldn't have hoped for a better man"
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After lunch, while driving home, Dr. Lecter asked Clarice if she would like to spend a few days in Paris.
"We could drive there," he said, "Thanks to the European Union, the nine participating countries have abolished passport control, Switzerland is not one of the nine, but has a similar, honor agreement. Driving from country to country is as easy as crossing a railroad track and less confining than flying".
"I own a small, two bedroom apartment in Paris," he explained, "is convenient for anonymity, less chances of an unfortunate encounter in the lobby of a luxury hotel".
"Oh, a trip to Paris would be lovely, Hannibal." She declared, her eyes bright with an enthusiasm that delighted him "I've always wanted to see the Louvre , the Musee d'Orsay, The Tuileries…."
Then, she added , as if in second thought
"How do you still manage to own real property . The FBI files don't show that you still own any property"?.
"I don't own anything under my name," her explained. " Even before Will Graham came my way, I was making provisions in case I would be captured."
"At the time," he continued, "I managed to secure several alternate identities, complete with birth certificate, and all the proper documentation, school records, you name it." He paused. "Incidentally, your present identity, is one such as those, is perfectly scrutiny proof. One of this days we'll have to go over the background, so you can answer any questions that should arise".
He went on
"Anyway, as I was saying, at the time, I made sure to "sell" many of my properties to one of those alternate identities, used almost solely for that purpose, and it has never been compromised.
She let that sink, then and asked, "Are we going to live in Switzerland permanently?"
"No, the lease on this property expires in two weeks, then we can either go back to Paris, and meet Barney there, or meet him in Monte Carlo or Nice, then leave for South America where, hopefully we can make our permanent residence."
She didn't care where they lived, as long as they were together and it was worry free. He would never settle in a dull place, she knew that.
"What will be the determining factor as to whether we meet Barney in Paris or , say Nice?" Asked Clarice, still new at being a fugitive.
"Paris would be the ideal place. If everything goes smooth in this short trip, then we can meet in Paris, otherwise, we will make a different choice."
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During the drive, they talked about her feelings regarding the FBI, and her disappointment with the institution. Her loss of respect for Crawford and her resentment for the way he had treated her.
Hannibal told her further about his own early years as an orphan, the impact she had on him when they met, and the years he spent in Florence, while he eagerly waited for her to come to terms with her feeling for him.
The apartment in Paris was small and glorious. Located in the exclusive Ile St-Louis, one of the most coveted location in Paris; it had high ceilings, several fireplaces, a comfortable living room overlooking the Siene and Notre Dame, a small dining room, two bedrooms and a huge, old fashion kitchen,. The master bedroom was enormous and Clarice was thrilled with the fireplace. That evening, they walked to Le Voltaire, a small restaurant by Pont Neuf across from the Louvre. After dinner they walked across to the rue de Rivoli and continued strolling towards the Place the La Concorde. Hannibal had been pointing up to the statues alongside the Louvre and was explaining the Tuileries, when suddenly he stopped in mid sentence, about 70 feet from the entrance of the hotel Meurice.
"Hannibal, what is it?, she asked, a little alarmed.
"Crawford?," he responded, "Crawford, right there, with that couple, talking at the entrance of the Hotel", he pointed.
The entrance to the hotel was brightly lit, making everything in the vicinity appear to be in the shadows by comparison. From their location, they were invisible to Crawford and his friends.
Clarice placed a tense hand on his arm "wait!" she said. "They can't see us here, I want to know if he is staying in this hotel." Then, as if talking to herself she added under her breath "…he has to go…"
"Excuse me?" whispered Hannibal not sure of what he heard.
"You heard me," she hissed, not at him but at the situation. "He…has…to…go… the very thought of this man occupying the same space on earth we do makes me nauseas, I am not going to live in fear of him going after you…I have to get rid of him!
Hannibal Lecter was both touched at amused by her reaction. But, didn't want her to act in an impulse that could backfire placing them both at risk. That wouldn't do.
"Clarice," he said reasonably. "Why don't we just make sure he is staying at the Maurice and then go home and make plans, this things work better if planned ahead. The last thing we want is Paris crawling with FBI agents investigating his demise"
"OK," she said, reluctantly admitting to herself that he made sense "as soon as we are sure he is staying here, we can go home and plan." After a few minutes, the couple took their leave and Crawford entered the hotel.
They started heading back. She was quiet for a while walking with her head down, his arm around her waist. Suddenly she stopped and turned to face him.
"Hannibal," she said softly, "do you remember in Memphis, when you gave me the Buffalo Bill file, and we touched for the first time?" Her eyes welled with tears.
He nodded wordlessly and put both arms around her waist. Pulling her protectively towards him, as if to shield her from some invisible danger.
"That is how you remained in my mind for years…" She gasped for air, "Behind bars", her words were choppy "I never want to be separated from you again …I'll do anything…I won't take any chances of losing you."
Paris, is the city of lovers…He pulled her closer to him, removed one hand from her waist and held the back of her head as one holding the head of an infant, then pulled her closer until her chin rested on his shoulder. He knew what she needed to hear and gave it to her… He talked fiercely in her ear.
"We wont be separated, Clarice…I wont let it." he paused, and added "We will not be permanently separated or incarcerated. I promise you that!"
The dark meaning of his promise was clear, and it didn't frighten her, it reassured her.
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Hannibal Lecter didn't want Crawford dead anymore than he had wanted Mason Verger dead for all those years. For him Crawford was like an old itch that he had to scratch once in a while for amusement.
However, if, after discussing it, Clarice still felt that for her peace of mind she'd need Crawford dead, she would have his support and cooperation. And anything else she might want.
He was aware that Clarice had been exposed to a tremendous amount of emotional turmoil during the last year or so. The events at the Fish Market, the death of John Bighman, Krendler and Mason Verger's campaign to destroy her reputation. Her choice to rescue him on her own and all the events that followed, all had contributed undermine her emotional resources.
"She needs time to heal." he reasoned. "Until then, if Crawford has to go then he'll just …have to go"
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I hope you like the way is going. Please let me know in your comments.
Clariz
