CHAPTER 8: A Soap Impression of His Wife
He already knew it was coming, and then he felt her body tense and shiver slightly as they danced on the restaurant terrace.
"Clarice, take some deep breaths and clear your head. Good. I'll pay the bill and we'll be going". - His voice was quiet, insinuating - "We'll be going home, where it's warm and quiet. Our home, yours and mine"
Soon after he was leading her out of the restaurant. But as one of the waiters rushed to open the door before them, Lecter stopped rather abruptly and tightened his grip on Clarice's waist; then turned around and, forcing Starling to walk alongside, giving his back to the puzzled waiter, silently headed to the ladies' room.
"Hannibal, what are you..."
She saw the Dutch tile approaching with an incredible speed, but was caught in time by two strong arms. Doctor took off his tuxedo jacket and threw it on the tiled floor, urging Clarice to sit down. He pressed his shapely hand with a tiny scar on the back of it to her pale sweaty forehead, then reached for the inside pocket of the jacket under Starling and put out a small flashlight to check her pupils. He then withdrew long enough to open his briefcase. Even when Clarice's due date was not so close, Dr.Lecter had made provisions for emergency in case of an advanced labour or uninvited guests. In a huge cellophane packet under the suitcase's bottom there were money, some clothes and the credentials of another identity, including two passports and the cosmetic aids he and Clarice worn in the passport photos. Above it all wasmedical equipment which he knew would not draw any suspicion.
Doctor pulled out a syringe and breaking the neck of a tiny ampoule loaded it with a correct amount. He slipped the needle into Starling's arm and putting away the syringe started to rub her earlobes in small circles then pulled at them. Clarice went down.
"That's my girl"
Lecter smoothly walked to the mirror and went right down to work. Minor injections of silicone in the cheekbones, mortician wax, a big blond wig; a lock fell down across his red mouth; let's get it back in place...
An insistent knock on the door.
"El seor? A usted todo est en orden? Provocar la ambulancia?"
"No se inquieten, la alarma falsa. Provoquen el taxi." - a cultured female voice answered the intruder.
Dr Lecter, now wearing a rather pecuilar outfit, stood over Clarice and looked down at her thoughtfully.
"Let's make you a big girl. A roomy one"
A minute later, the waiter knocked again, informing the "couple" about the taxi's arrival. He was about to go away, but the same female voice stopped him: "Come in, please" surprised, he heard the door lock turn. He stepped closer to now slowly opening door, only to be dragged inside and pressed against the wall by two incredibly strong arms. The door slapped shut.
"Good evening" A slick blondie greeted him in a low male voice with a slight metallic rasp beneath it.
"Good evening" The waiter answered automatically and felt the "blondie" pressing "her" hand against his mouth to keep him from screaming.
"Ummmm. Do you know who Hannibal Lecter is? Hannibal the Cannibal? Blink twice for yes"
"Thank you, I thought so. I apologize for my rather extravagant appearance. Now, I'm really pressed for time, so be very cooperative. Alright?" and Hannibal Lecter removed his hand.
"Alright" Drops of cold sweat on the waiter's forehead.
"Surely there is a rear entrance down here, for the staff? Where is it?"
"Down the corridor, Senor" - it was a bare whisper - "Next to the Kitchen"
"Is it guarded? If you lie, I'll know----I always do---- What's behind it?"
"No, no; the restaurant's yard, Senor"
"And the staff's cars, surely? Hmmm. Where are the keys?" The waiter fished the car keys out of his pocket. "Which car is yours, dear boy?"
Soon after two particularly strange-looking ladies appeared in the restaurant hall-way, quickly made it to the rear entrance and sneaked outside. They got inside the silk BMW 760 Li and drove off, out of the yard and to the major motorway.
No one paid attention to them. Not even those who'd been watchful.
Clarice Starling took several breaths, her head pressed back against the car seat.
"If I fucking wasn't in such fucking pain, I'd fucking laugh my fucking head off"
Dr Lecter, still wearing the wig, was silent. Soon a short scream of pain came from behind.
"Shit! Shit shitting it! Hannibal Lecter, you give me something NOW or I swear I'll shoot you"
Doctor reached for the suitcase on the passenger's seat, put out a syringe and a medicine and silently handed it all to Starling.
"What do I do?"
"Slip the needle into your left arm, but first find the vein." He looked at her through the rear-view mirror. "Hold the syringe at an angle. Try not to touch the needle, keep it sterile."
She held the syringe up high and releasing a tiny jet from the needle slipped it into the vein.
"That's better" She whispered, throwing the syringe away, much to Doctor's displeasure.
"Hey! Alright!" She said a minute later "So that's what an acid trip is like. How wonderful. Yeah. I love it."
This, however, did not last long. Soon Starling was attacked by a new trail of pangs.
"Oh give me a fucking break!" A pause "SHIT"
"Waters?" - Dr Lecter asked not even turning his head.
"YES"
"We're almost there, Clarice" Moments later, which obviously seemed like an eternity to Starling, he pulled over. Doctor pushed off his wig and started to change his clothes.
"Someone pinch me" Starling commented frombehind "Seems like I'm going to give birth in the back seat of a car with a certain cannibalistic transvestite in the front seat"
Dr Lecter lifted Starling in his arms and soon she was lying in a fresh-smelling, semi-dark room. In a state of semisyncope, Starling barely could determine from where Doctor's reassuring voice was coming, as he made the preparations.
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.