Chapter Two:

The encounter with Lecter made Russell intensely curious to meet Agent Starling. Once again, she only had some slight knowledge of the FBI agent's role in the Lecter cases.

One of Abe's shameful habits was reading trashy supermarket tabloids. He kept them in his office desk, but Russell still saw them while unloading the grocery bags and shook her head in disbelief. From the bizarre, manipulated cover photos, she knew there were plenty of speculation about the Lecter/Starling relationship, and as she looked through the file for Krendler's death, she understood why.

The slim woman in the harsh black and white crime scene photographs appeared unfazed. Russell doubted she would have looked that collected after being shot, operated on in a bedroom, drugged and witnessing a man eat his own brains before fighting it out with a serial killer. Then again, she wouldn't have been able to pull that dress off either, at least not since 1974.

When Clarice Starling walked through the door into Russell's office, the attorney was surprised that any street-hardened agent would exude fragile beauty, then she saw it wasn't delicacy but exhaustion that made the young woman's skin translucent and her gray eyes drowning pools. Starling's grip was strong in her handshake, though.

Russell was supposed to be asking the this experienced investigator for background on Lecter, but she had other motives. Shirley had squeezed her sources in the prosecutor's office. She plunged right in.

"I'm not sure how much information you've been given about the prosecutor's current case-"

"None. I no longer work in Behavioral Sciences. I've been removed from any Lecter investigation."

"I see," Russell said, trailing her voice off in hope of bringing forth some confessional girl talk. The woman sitting across from her desk waited quietly, hands folded in her lap.

Southern women fall into two groupings: weedy fretters who take the weight of the world on their thin shoulders, and the heavy-set ones who take the weight with their bulk. Clarice Starling was the former, and Shirley fought daily at the local Curves to keep from becoming the later.

"They'd going for the death penalty, you know," Shirley said.

"He'll be found insane."

"Not this time, Agent Starling."

That brought a response. Clarice's eyes widened and her breath rasped in the claustrophobic office. Russell leaned forward to press her point. "They're going to present a very different scenario for consideration, and frankly, they've got the evidence to back it up."

"What?" Clarice whispered.

"They're going to say that Doctor Lecter was so enraged by Krendler's treatment of you, his love-" Russell was surprised that this brought no reaction from the young woman. "-That he viciously murdered him. Or that he was consumed by jealousy over a younger, attractive man. They've got witness statements claiming that you'd had an affair with Krendler-"

"That's not true!" insisted Starling. "Paul propositioned me and I put him off!"

"Neither here nor there," said Shirley crisply. "All they need to do is put that seed in the jury's minds."

She leaned across her desk. "The prosecution want to take this out the realm of the fantastical and make it a squalid lovers' quarrel. Emotional responses for Lecter, Agent Starling, not the actions of a sociopath."

Starling's slender shoulders rose in an affected shrug. "So much tabloid trash. It's ridiculous-"

"I'm looking at the evidence list, Agent Starling. Your clothing that evening Krendler was killed-"

"He-"

Brutal, Russell ran her over. "He ordered that gown from a Milan designer a week before murdering Pazzi and leaving Italy. Not only that, but he gave your measurements for alterations. 'My wife is wider through the hips than your models,' the sales clerk remembers him saying with great affection."

"I never knew-"

"They pulled you off the division that night, didn't they? You never saw the results of the follow up investigation?"

"That's correct. I've been moved out of the field and into the cyber crimes division."

"They're going to show some damning lists here, Agent Starling. Not only the dress. A set of Hermes luggage. One suitcase, empty, found in the Krendler weekend house. A long list of garments, suitable for both travel and the tropics, were ordered along with the dress. Some were found in the house at the time, but the rest wasn't discovered until recently."

Starling stared at her blankly as Russell continued. "The missing suitcase and toiletries bag, along with more clothing for a woman of your size, were found in the trunk of his wrecked car. In his own bags, an ID for a man with his photograph under the name of Karl Varner and another, with your picture, under the name of Marie Varner."

"They can't be thinking-"

"You were due to be in Georgia within a day of his accident in Florida, correct?" Russell had the oddest feeling that she was the investigating officer and Starling was the suspect. "Taking your first vacation since joining the Bureau?"

"Yes, but...why haven't they asked me about this? Why you, but not my own team?" Clarice's brow creased. "I'd been planning that river rafting trip for a year. Doctor Lecter being in Florida was a coincidence; a lot of illegal entry comes through that state."

Russell watched Clarice's shock and dismay. "The doctor is...concerned that you'll be sacrificed in this prosecution and I must say, I share his concern. If you need help-"

Starling rose abruptly. "It appears you have no more questions for me today, Ms. Russell. I should go."

Shirley hurried around her cluttered desk to stop the other woman. "You don't understand. I want to help. I can understand your surprise, even fear, realizing he was after you again. But surely, you see his value for study and don't want to see him executed."

Starling's voice quavered as she said, "I'm not afraid of him."

Russell didn't believe her for a moment. She saw the tears clinging to her pale eyelashes. She squeezed the younger woman's elbow and her own soft hand felt nothing but strong tendon. "Honey, he's locked up tighter than a drum. There's no way he's ever getting out again. You have nothing to worry about."

"I have to get back to work," murmured Starling. "You have my office number if you think of any questions for me before my deposition."

The agent turned the doorknob but stopped when Russell asked, "Would you say Lecter's a suicide risk?"

"What has he said?"

"That he has nothing to live for. You know these sociopaths. When cornered, they'll kill themselves. Perhaps he feels truly cornered this time."

"Does he have an opportunity?"

Russell shrugged. "I don't know how closely they're watching him. They allowed Dahmer to be beaten to death like a dog. You can't tell me that wasn't on purpose." Starling looked indignant. "He's got clothes, a blanket, so he's got a noose. What do you think?"

"He's very...creative," Starling said. "And he won't tolerate confinement again, not after ten years of freedom."

"That's my concern." Russell waited a beat and said, "But he is worried about your personal safety. I don't know how he thinks he can effect that situation, but at least it's giving him something to cling to."

The young woman gave a watery chuckle. "What a pair we make. They'd probably love the doctor to save them the cost of a trial. And the Bureau starts every day hoping I've eaten my Glock in the night, instead of showing up and punching the clock."

"You haven't considered-"

"Doctor Lecter and I share certain qualities, Ms. Russell," Starling said. "Perverse obstinateness is one of them." This time she did open the door and slipped away without a goodbye.

The attorney said to the empty office, "Damn, I hope so," as she leaned back on her desk, weary.

~end Chapter 2