Author's note: Thanks to Morbid for giving me an idea on this – it had gotten a bit stalled. For her benefit, this chapter is largely told from Josh's point of view. Catch her if she swoons, if you please; bumps on the head can be nasty.
Josh Graham sat in a small airline seat and pondered. The seat was cramped, and he was not comfortable in it. Clarice had the window seat; she wanted it and he didn't care. He wanted to focus on the case. Besides, she was senior to him and so she should get her pick of seats.
The airline tray was pretty small, but it served well enough for his purposes. In one hand he held the stapled-together sheets that constituted Alice Pierpont's payment for her transport to and from the funeral. She had agreed to take the survey, and Clarice had demanded she do it beforehand. Since her escape, it had sort of gotten shunted to the side of things. Now that they were flying into Ohio, he had time to look at it.
He wondered idly what sort of carnage Alice had caused now. He knew all too well what he was capable of. For a moment his eyes dimmed as he remembered the events of two years ago.
It was said of some people that still waters ran deep. So it was with the men of the Graham family. Will Graham had been physically attacked by Hannibal Lecter, not once but twice. Will Graham's son had not suffered the same insults from Hannibal Lecter's daughter. Instead, she had kidnapped him and then forced him to play her boyfriend. Physically, his captivity had been much more comfortable than Clarice's. Alice had been nonchalant about feeding Clarice during her incarceration. She'd always ensured he ate well.
But what she had done had taken a while for him to grasp. She had become fascinated with him and then she had violated him. It had been a difficult concept to grasp.
What was worse, for him, was the realization that she had not done so malevolently. Dr. Hannibal Lecter had been known for his cruel, cutting observations and comments. He knew exactly what he was doing. His troubled daughter did not. In her own way, she had wanted Josh to like her. Perhaps more; he had tried not to think about it.
But for now, she was out, and it was his job to capture her and bring her to justice. Whether that was through bringing her back to the asylum she had been held in or if she would face trial was not his concern. She was at large and he would capture her.
Josh perused the survey as the large plane cruised slowly over heartland America. Alice's script was surprisingly girlish, nothing like her father's freakishly regular copperplate. From what he could tell, her answers were honest. At least he didn't get the feeling she was lying.
There it was. Please describe your relationship with your mother. He had seen enough of these to know what to expect. Alice's reply had been simple if cutting. My mother is a hateful sociopath. Growing up, she had no interest in me. I have not seen her since I left home, and don't want to.
Please describe your relationship with your father.
As you people already know, my biological father is Dr. Hannibal Lecter. I did not know him growing up. He was in the asylum by the time I was born and never knew about me. He did not know I existed until my attempt to contact him.
On the other hand, by the time you read this, I will be free, and we'll be working on building a relationship. I'll let you know how that goes.
Josh started in the confines of the airline seat. Surprise flooded him. Had Dr. Lecter had a hand in freeing his daughter? Was Alice trying to meet her father again? Was that it? He glanced over at Clarice, who was staring out the window. She glanced back at him wordlessly.
"Look at this," he said. Clarice craned her neck. He pointed it out to her. "She told us what she was doing in her survey. She's looking for him."
Clarice's eyebrows rose. "Really?" she asked.
"Yes. Maybe that's what she's planning. Just like last time. And she told us right here!" He tapped the paper excitedly. The phone latched firmly into the seat in front of him caught his eye. He grabbed it and pulled it free. "Do you have an FBI credit card? We need to call Crawford. We need to monitor the International Herald-Tribune. We also ought to see if we can find anything else, maybe at the asylum. Some other way she might have of contacting him, since Dr. Lecter will know that the agony column method is compromised."
Clarice began to fumble in her purse. "Nice catch, Josh," she said absently. "I never caught that one."
Another idea struck Josh between the eyes. "Wait," he said. "What if Dr. Lecter knows she's out? What if he's coming to try and get her?"
Clarice paused for a moment. The ghost of an angry expression flickered over her face for just a moment.
"You think he would?" Clarice asked with the barest hint of a challenge in her voice.
"He might," Josh said. "It might just be Alice sending us on a snipe hunt, but it might be real, too. Look, you were saying that Alice wasn't schizophrenic, even though that's what the doctors diagnosed her as. She never showed schizophrenic behavior before. But she was good enough to fool two court-appointed psychiatrists. Somebody had to have shown her how to do that. What if that somebody was Lecter?"
Clarice hissed air between her teeth. "I don't know, Josh," she said softly.
Josh frowned. Why was she resistant to the idea? She didn't still have feeling for Dr. Lecter, did she? For Christ's sake, the guy was a serial killer. Josh felt sorry for Alice, and he didn't think she was completely responsible for what she had done to him, but he didn't love her.
"It's worth looking into," Josh said. "Look. Either Dr. Lecter knows she's out or he doesn't. I'm inclined to think he does. He knew when she…well, from her first time. He came up here for you."
A mixture of pain and anger crossed Clarice's face. "That doesn't mean he'd do it again," she said archly.
"I think he would," Josh insisted. "And if he did…," his eyes moved up. "He might know where they're going. But I'm not sure he does. If he'd planned the whole thing from start to finish, they would have gotten Alice out the door and no one would've heard anything. It would've been all underground, and Alice would've been quietly smuggled out of the country somewhere."
"Josh, you're sort of building castles in the air there," Clarice said softly. "All you know is that Alice said she was going to meet her father. You don't know what…Dr. Lecter has in mind."
Yet he was unwilling to let his pet idea go so quickly. Why was Clarice objecting to it? His mind continued to jump from point to point. It had always helped him track his prey. Now it might help him catch both.
"Okay," he said. His eyes were blank, his mind cranking out possibilities. "I don't think Dr. Lecter knows what's going to happen next. At most, he might have set things in motion. So the first thing he's going to do is try and get as much information as he can. Newspapers, crime-scene reports from the local boys."
"Maybe, Josh," Clarice said tensely. "Look, we need to examine the Homicidal Productions crime scene. Keep your mind on that. Don't go blueskying about Dr. Lecter. We…we don't know that he was involved."
"Heck," Josh said, not listening, "if I were him, I'd try to get my hands on the FBI file. Everything he needs would be right in there. And if anyone could figure out where they're going next, he would."
Clarice opened her mouth and then closed it. A tremor racked her body for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was sharper than he expected it to be.
"Josh," she said, "enough is enough. We are not here to catch Dr. Lecter; we're here to catch Alice Pierpont and Chatiqua Miller. Now stop."
Josh stopped and eyed his partner gravely. He shut his mouth. She was senior to him, after all. But he found himself doubtful besides, and all the seniority in the world could not quell that.
Alice Pierpont had held Clarice captive for a week. But there had been a few hours in which Clarice had been in Dr. Lecter's custody, not his daughter's. He had gotten into the house, stabbed Josh's father, and gotten Clarice out of the cage. That much Josh knew.
Just exactly what Dr. Lecter had said or done to her, though…that he didn't know. No one save Clarice and the good doctor did. She had refused wholeheartedly to tell FBI debriefing personnel. According to them, he had gotten her out of the cage, fed her, and then brought her upstairs to await the arrival of his daughter.
An unpleasant idea eased its way into his mind.
Clarice had been alone with Dr. Lecter. At the time, she would have been weakened. Lack of food, fear of her unpredictable prior captor and her just as unpredictable new captor, and the knowledge that she could not fight back against them would have forced her defenses down.
Two years later, Alice had been safely locked up in an asylum. There, she'd asked for Clarice. Clarice had gone to see her; something Josh had not done himself since he'd seen her in the jail. Alice had asked Clarice to take her to her stepfather's funeral. Clarice had done that for her, too. Josh had thought she was crazy for doing that. After she'd been hurt, he'd choked off wanting to say I told you so. She'd been hurt; it wasn't time to brag.
What if she wasn't crazy? What if she was helping Dr. Lecter? Was Clarice helping Alice?
His mind told him it couldn't be. Clarice was true-blue FBI all the way. Her loyalty to the FBI was unquestioned. Even when she'd had a rough time of it, she had always remained loyal.
Even so, his mind could cough up images. Clarice, defenseless and weak, with Dr. Lecter standing in front of her, deftly manipulating her mind. Nothing that would make her overtly crazy, nothing that would be noticed. Just a simple post-hypnotic suggestion. When my daughter needs help, Clarice, you will be there for her.
How much damage could a rogue FBI agent do? The answer Josh found frightening. If Clarice was feeding Dr. Lecter information, then everything could be in jeopardy. Alice would remain free. For that matter, Dr. Lecter might have a bone to pick with Josh himself; Josh had shot him after all.
His mind reeled. It couldn't be. As Clarice had said, he was building castles in the air. Never once through their ordeal had Josh ever suspected Clarice. But the possibility was there.
It's just a possibility, Josh told himself firmly. You have no reason at all to suspect Clarice of anything.
But he knew better. There was the fact that Clarice had been under Dr. Lecter's control for a short period of time…and the fact that Clarice was hiding something now. She had tried to buzz him off when the psychiatrist's name came up, and she'd gotten outright snappish when he suggested Dr. Lecter would seek out information about his daughter's current compatriots. Wait…when he'd said the FBI file had everything the man would need.
The plane began to arc downwards towards its destination. The pilot politely asked everyone to return his or her tray table and seatback to the full upright position. They would be landing shortly. In seat 25B, Josh Graham put his head against the back of his seat and ticked off the particulars of his situation.
Three dangerous serial killers on the loose. The possibility of an old and wise monster skulking around the scene. And now even his partner was suspect.
…
Dr. Lecter's hotel room did not suit him, and he would be glad when he as moving on. It was clean and comfortable, but that was it. His normal preference was for vastly larger rooms, better service, the best of everything. Yet Clarice knew that, and he did not want her to track him. The Holiday Inn would do for now. The suits he had brought with him did not suit him either. They were simple gray and blue suits, the sort of suit an official might wear. Dr. Lecter preferred custom-made suits, single-needle tailoring, fine linings and tasteful cuts. These suits made something in his heart weep.
His taste for the best of everything did not mean that he did without everything. The laptop he had purchased upon his arrival in the United States was the top of the line. The USB drive he had used to steal the data from Clarice's apartment plugged into the laptop easily, and he was soon reviewing the files.
Ah, Clarice. He hadn't planned on things going the way they had. Speaking to her rationally would have been his preference. But she had attacked him, and so he had to defend himself. Her undignified position and foul language had struck his sense of whimsy, and he had gone where his whimsy suggested.
Well, he supposed, she would get over it. He'd done far worse to others. Thinking back to it amused him: how red her face had gotten, and how she had fought back. That had always been part of his interest in her; she was no submissive hausfrau, but she was bright enough to pick her battles.
He tried to dismiss her from his mind as he consulted the files on the laptop. But she would not leave so quickly. He had to place his hands on either side of the keyboard and stop and breathe, pushing her gently out of his mind.
The problem at hand was obvious. He felt a responsibility to his daughter. The others could hang for all he cared; his duty was to his daughter. Yet he still wanted Clarice. Was there any way he could have them both? It seemed impossible. Therefore, the only thing to do was to focus on his duty, leaving his desire for another day.
To force himself to the file was not so easy. Yet Dr. Lecter did it, his rare mind attempting to find a pattern amidst the chaos. Where would they be going? What did they want? Their end result was fairly obvious: California, where they could work in peace for a while. That was where the major studios were. Dr. Lecter did not think the majors would hire this Chatiqua girl anytime soon, and that was a pity. There was a crude art to her work. But there, they could get away with a great deal and claim they were just making a movie.
But the FBI had realized this too, and Hollywood would prove to be a trap. He had to get to them before they reached their goal. Otherwise, they would soon be caught. The local authorities would be on alert. Alice had managed to win her freedom; it was Dr. Lecter's goal to see that his errant daughter did not lose it so easily.
Yes, there had to be something he could use here. Something that he could do to find his daughter and spirit her away to a safe location. Only then could he think about Clarice.