Hannibal Lecter was exceedingly well acquainted with the minds and mannerisms of those around him. Though Jack Crawford was and would forever remain a man of half-truths and manipulation, there had been the smell of fresher deceit about him today, and Hannibal was too curious not to investigate.
As soon as his last patient for the day had departed (a man who believed that his entire world was composed of fantastical characters generated by his own hyperactive imagination), Hannibal donned a knee-length green coat and calfskin gloves and headed out into the rain towards FBI headquarters.
The guards knew his face, and the ease with which they believed his story of a forgotten pair of keys in Jack's office was both amusing and empowering. He knew that there would be no reason for them to check the internal room camera footage now that his story was secure.