CHAPTER 7: O, won't we have a merry time, drinking whisky, beer and wine!
"Какой же ты умный, Ганнибал… аж тошнит"¹
The fallen glass shattered on the restaurant floor. Dr Lecter watched the shards and calmly took a sip of his wine.
"Now I regret it that I taught you Russian, Clarice" – he said quietly as the waiter approached their table. "Todo está en orden"
The waiter nodded and quickly gathering the broken glass disappeared into the kitchen.
"Out of the frying pan" – Starling said, smiling, thinking to herself: "Please God, contain my range, because I want to kill Hannibal" – "You wish Crawford wasn't clever enough to use me on you, don't you? Oh, that's not so bad. Now that you actually took delight in my nice ankles, it won't be hard to get rid of me"
"No doubt" – Lecter drawled, smiling back. – "It'll be much harder to indicate the body, though, since you are, shall we say, traveling incognito. And I'll be sorry to leave those nice ankles of yours".
"You'll manage".
"Кларисс, довольно. Поговорим о чем-нибудь другом. Как тебе нравится еда? Ты хорошо себя чувствуешь?"²
Starling waved it off in impatience. "Еда превосходна, равно как и моё самочувствие, Доктор. ³ And I really don't feel like changing the subject. Can I speak freely?"
"If your morals require it"
"Fine. Would you give me some more ice, this is a bit warm"
"Thank you" – Clarice took a sip, and then started to chuckle all of a sudden, spilling the water from her glass. "The morals of a bitch on heat" – She then said coldly, staring hard at him. – "Anyway. In past 4 months I became a nuisance even to myself; I can't boil an egg or make it to the the Teatro Colon. And I see that you're bored… oh you're really bored".
"Trying to quantify me again, Former Agent Starling? I'm touched. It gets harder with every day to draw your attention. You got quite used to indulging in self-pity. It's becoming tedious"
"Ahh, at last we've come to it. "Wound Mother-to-be" – sounds like pretentious piece of piss"
Lecter stopped her with his upraised hand, smiling pleasantly. "That'll be quite enough of that. Wittiness is not really your line. Let me make a suggestion. Find someone who'll look after your clothes, they grow tacky rather quickly. And I really don't believe that Virginian twang of yours is appropriate for first-class restaurants". – Suddenly he leaned closer – "You're crying"
Lecter tried to cup her hand, but Starling withdrew it quickly. "Let go off me" Was all she said.
The wine waiter came into view and replaced the empty bottle next to Dr with a full one. Then he was gone again.
They stared at each other for a full minute.
"Clarice" Lecter purred finally "You might want to bash me over the head with this candlestick, but I have something very special for you in my pocket"
Starling dashed the tear away. "The Harpy, Dr? How very amusing…"
He laughed and Clarice settled back in surprise. Never before had she heard him laughing so openly.
"Now, Clarice. Close your eyes"
"Doctor, please" – She felt tired – "Let me save you some time. We can go outside where there are no witnesses"
Hannibal Lecter leaned forward until he faced her at a distance of a foot – "Clarice".
Ah, whatever, Starling thought and obeyed. For a moment she felt nothing, and than there was his warmth beside her. On a shoulder level, in fact. As if he was kneeling.
A Mercedes Maybach, deep blue and silver, purred through Buenos Aires streets, carrying away the Beast and his Beauty, husband and wife.
¹ "You're so intelligent, Hannibal…that I feel sick"
² "Clarice, enough. Let's change the subject, shall we? Is everything to your liking? Are you feeling well?"
³ "The food is fine, and so am I, Doctor"