CHAPTER 6: Friends and Enemies

Crawford ended his telephone conversation and glanced at Mapp before turning his attention back to the laptop.

"Ardelia Mapp, a Quantico field agent. Hello"

"Good morning, sir"

"How can I help you, agent?" He didn't look up from the small monitor.

"Starling's gone away."

"Yes…?" Mapp stirred. What the hell was going on here?

"Her cell's switched off, too. Do you know anything about her whereabouts, Mr. Crawford?"

He settled back and folded his arms behind his head. "She left an email address, which turned to be not working. Apart from that, I have nothing"

"What did she say before she left?"

"She did not speak to me in person. Actually the last time I saw her, it was a month before she resigned. Starling notified me about it through Krendler" Crawford's stomach turned when he said the name. "Strange choice of a messenger, isn't it? I think she was trying to create some kind of a distance between her and myself". Mapp watched him carefully.

"I'm being honest with you" Crawford continued. "I don't know where she's gone to. I'd help Starling if I could. Why wouldn't I? But she just walked out. Maybe she found someone. I don't believe she'd want to reconsider her opinion of the Bureau without a certain influence".

Beats of silence...

"What if Lecter took her?"

Two years back Ardelia Mapp and Clarice Starling were cooking at Mapp's place, chatting, when Starling put the kitchen knife aside and closed her eyes.

"Hey, what's the matter, sport, bored already?" – Mapp put a cigarette in Clarice's mouth and lit it up.

"No...just thinking"

And a minute later, "Ummmm. I've got an acquaintance in the State Hospital for Criminally Insane. A guard" Mapp said. "Says it got real tedious over there without the Good Doctor. Are you sure he won't come after you?"

Long pause, "Sometimes I wish"

"Don't even say that"

Mapp looked straight into Crawford's eyes. "Both Lecter and Starling are victims of childhood trauma and guilt complex is the central base of it. Starling compensates it by saving, Lecter - by killing. Of course, being a brilliant psychotrist he is, Lecter recognised the connection instantly. They are virtually very much alike. They understand each other, they..."

"Kindred Spirits O'Henry eh?" Apparently, the whole thing struck Crawford as very funny and he began to laugh. Although she wasn't sure whether the man was laughing or crying.

Mason spoke out of the dark, his sentences measured by the stroke of his respirator.

"By the look on your face, Inspector General Krendler, I take it you brought some damn good news with you"

Paul Krendler retreated casually to the tall window and, slightly pushing the black curtains aside, spoke softly:

"You could say that."

"Cut the crap, Krendler, is he in the States?"

"No. He chose South America, despite what you said about his longing for Europe"

"And…?"

"His ID is perfect. He was found by accident"

"Is the Good Doctor on his way here?"

"Not quite..."

"Do I need to ask WHY?"

"Well" – Krendler returned to his chair and set there, legs crossed. "I needed your personal guidance in what to do next. Things turned out to be even more interesting than I expected" He stood again and, taking an opened folder from the long ebony table, proffered it to Verger in theatrical gesture. Manson looked at the folder's contents for several moments, saving his breath.

"Who's this pussy anyway?"

"Clarice M. Starling, the former agent of the FBI. I'm glad you can't walk, Mr. Verger sir, as what I've got to tell you would knock you off your feet. Lecter and Starling have become right close. Apparently, she left the Bureau for him and they've been together for about 5 months now".

Manson was silent. He felt the excitement of a child.

"And that's not the whole story" Krendler said, turning over the folders' pages, trying not to touch Manson's hand "Look closely at this one" A beat.

"Oh fuck." was all Manson said after a minute.

"Mmmm, yes" Paul Krendler whispered, highly satisfied. "She's expecting Hannibal Lecter's child"

In the Beginning Harris created 'Silence of the lambs'. And Harris said: 'Let there be a book" and there was the book. And Demme saw that the book was good; and he invited Hopkins over there... Many years passed, and then the Lecterphiles appeared.