A/N Thanks all for your continued support. I apologize for this chapter taking awhile. Dr. Lecter is weaving a bit of a tangled web, and there is my own reality to contend with, too. As usual, comments and criticism are welcomed and encouraged. The following chapter I think will not take as long as this one did.

I realize, specifically for clannibal fans, that the periods of time which pass between Hannibal and Clarice interacting may feel a bit long, but I hope I manage to still make their respective lives apart from one another interesting. Thanks again, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Dr. Lecter did not have to wait until the Philharmonic Ball to meet Etienne Alarie. It had been raining for five consecutive days, but on a muggy Saturday afternoon it only drizzled around noon, and then paused again as people began gathering around the Musikverein.

The building was most impressive just as the sun sets-when there was still light, but no need to shade one's eyes. It's lights lit it in an ominous sort of way, from beneath its eaves and columns, making the beiges gold and the terracottas like fire lanterns. The darkening blue sky beyond its facade made it stand in beautiful contrast.

It was a 10th Chamber Music concert, and he met the Strobls during the pause between Debussey's Pelléas et Mélisande and Beethoven's Symphony No. 2. Léonie waved to him and he caught her eye. Her husband stood behind her with his back to Dr. Lecter, talking to someone else. Etienne stood an arm's reach away from Léonie, looking poised with a little effort. She glanced to see at whom Léonie waved, and he caught her eyes as well. He couldn't be sure at the distance, but he thought she may have shuddered.

He had to first be introduced to Bernhard Wagner-Artz, who was the pianist. He found this to be crass, and at one point, turned away from Joseph Strobl as he was speaking directly to him to look at Etienne. It irritated him that he had to go to such a length for them to remember to introduce the lady. Of course, then they were all manners and back-pedaling courtesy, and even carried on minutes later into a discussion about their various charities. That came shortly after Dr. Lecter took Etienne's narrow, rosy palm into his and bent his head over her soft knuckles. He smiled at her when his head came up, and the moment she looked away, he winked at Léonie.

He offered to accompany her for a drink, and she seemed both leery and anxious to go with him. Safely away from her employers and drink in tow, she turned to him and gave him the briefest of looks. It was a look many of us have seen and given, but is not necessarily easy to describe. It communicates, 'Must we, too, pretend?' She chose to play it safe, which he respected. It would also make the following moments more amusing.

"What part of France are you from, Herr Doctor Boucher?" she asked, but her eyes were forward, watching the crowd. He moved slightly, so that he stood beside her and could look with her while they spoke.

"I am not from France," he said, and she looked at him with her eyebrows knitted. Etienne had delicate features, and there was something about her mouth that was very appealing. The shape of it, perhaps. The way the corners were slightly upturned as though she were always making an effort not to smirk. It played beautifully on the arched, irreverence of her eyebrows. The look was softened by her coloring, all chestnut and blushing butter cream. Very toothsome, indeed. She was perfect.

"Oh, I-"

"When I introduced myself to some of our mutual acquaintances, assumptions were apparently made. More than one, it would seem."

"What others?" she asked, turning to look him, intrigued. The true nature of his origins were easily forgotten.

"That we should meet, solely due to the mistaken idea that we are from the same country."

Her lips moved, slightly. It was not exactly a smile or a pursing of the lips, but it was the distinct harnessing of one or the other.

"Worse things have come from assumptions," she responded, looking back at the crowd.

"Agreed. Tell me, Frau Alarie, what else have you heard about me? If you tell me, I'll tell you."

Now she smirked, and dipped her nose quickly into her wine glass. When she answered, her voice was lowered. "Frau Strobl told me what you said to poor David when they had dinner at your house, which is apparently, more than acceptable."

"The house, or what I said to David?"

Another smile. "Both. Quite cruel, what you said," she added, and when he didn't immediately respond, she glanced at him, again.

"Does that bother you?" he asked, and took a sip of his wine while watching an older couple shuffle past, talking too loudly about people who were undoubtedly in the room.

"Bother me?" Etienne shrugged a shoulder. "If cruelty bothered me, I doubt I would have survived my four brothers growing up."

He looked at her. The movement was not sharp but deliberate, and she paused with her wine glass at her lips, catching his eyes.

"A brother should not be cruel to his sister."

"I agree. Hence, the aforementioned cruelty. It comes in many forms, does it not? Some prefer this flavor over that."

"Do you have a preference, Frau Alarie?"

"Of course," she said, with her delightfully puckered, disenchanted accent. "Everyone does. They just don't discuss it."

"But you do."

That seemed to raise her heckles slightly and he saw she had become minutely defensive. "So do you," she pointed out.

"But you brought it up," he said, in a mock tone of childish needling. It succeeded in making her smile again.

"And you, too!" she said, laughing softly into her wine glass, before taking another sip. After a moment, she eyed him again, another measuring of him, a different kind. Now, she was gathering courage. Ah, she will approach the topic of my intentions.

"I didn't expect you to lean towards a fraternal bond with me, Herr Doctor," she said, choosing also to drop his surname, now that they were acquainted.

"We've already covered the consequences of assumptions, Frau Alarie. And worse ones could still be made and will," he said, his eyes sparking. He looked away, and took on a more casual tone, as they each returned to cast their gazes upon the chattering, pecking crowd.

"I have no intention of soliciting you. In all honesty, I find the thought inappropriate. However, I am glad to have met you. It's good to find a leopard in a room of jackals."

"You flatter me. I work for the jackals, remember?"

"And what better position for the leopard to take?" he asked, and she looked at him for a long beat, before descending back into her wine and own thoughts.

After the end of the performance, he made sure to visit once more with the Strobls, and to make plans with them in front of Etienne. In addition, he invited Etienne to join them in front of the Strobls. He would be inviting even more people into his home, this time. There were preparations to be made, indeed.

The following week, he met with Wagner first for rolls and coffee, and then to visit the Clock Museum. Dr. Lecter had never been there before, and he could sense the pleasure Wagner took from it. It felt like the nursing of a black fly on his skin.

"Did I tell you that after I left your house that night with the Strobls, a little black dog followed me home?" Wagner was saying. They were walking among the sundials and approaching the Japanese pillar clocks.

"No, you didn't. Is there some significance to that, Herr Wagner?" Dr. Lecter said, not masking his amusement with the antics of a man clearly in crisis.

"Ah, I know. It's the boring life of an old man, I know. If there's some lore regarding little black dogs following you home, I wouldn't be surprised. There's lore for everything. Anyway, I decided to keep him."

Dr. Lecter eyed him, and Wagner laughed and nodded.

"I know, I know. But what else have I got to lose."

"I do tire of your masked whimpering, Herr Wagner. On the other hand, what does Frau Steiner think of it?"

"Oh, she loves him more than she loves me, I can tell you! Maybe I should shit on the rug, too."

"Leave that as a last resort. Speaking of Frau Steiner, I've had a thought."

"Oh?"

They were looking at the grandfather clocks now, and one appealed to Dr. Lecter, and they paused in front of it. It was 19th century, associated with the wedding of Willem van Loon and Margaretha Bas, the panel behind its face painted by Jan Miense Molenaer. Angels adorned the top playing trumpets. He could feel Wagner's impatience wafting over like an odor.

"If you're so concerned she'll leave you for another younger man, and I'm not saying she wouldn't, perhaps the best thing you can do is let her."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that the last thing you should do is cling to her. She will run, I can promise you that. However, if you let her feel free, and if you remain constant as she wanders, she is likely to return to you. It's true young women often seek adventure, but where do you think they go once they've discovered that all adventure is, is uncertainty? Where do you think they go when they grow weary of uncertainty?"

"That's logical. But what if she does not return to me?"

"If we're careful, we can be sure she does. All of that depends on to whom she wanders."

"Herr Boucher, are you suggesting I nudge Rita into the arms of a specific man?"

"What an interesting idea, Herr Wagner. I will give that some thought."

Wagner laughed his gravely, vibrato laugh. "My friend, you are even more devious than I."

"But to what end, my friend?"

"Indeed, yes. Thank you, Herr Boucher."

"Call me John."

"Thank you, John. And please, call me Ernst."

"You're welcome, Ernst," Dr. Lecter said, and smiled a genuine smile at Wagner which made him uneasy for hours. He dismissed it at as apprehension about Rita.

The dinner party of Herr Doctor Boucher was held in October. In attendance were the Strobls, the Dreslers, Etienne Alarie and her cousin, Valarie Martin, Ernst Wagner and Rita Steiner, the pianist Bernhard Wagner-Artz and his wife, Sophie, and David Dresler's professor and mentor, Adrian Baur. After cocktails, the first course was served—ham-wrapped figs with marinated bean salad and hazelnuts. There was good talk over the first course, but he was hopeful it would get far better.

Anyone would be hard-pressed to follow any footprints he left behind, on this night. Steps were certainly to be taken, and not just by him. The following hours would be a delicate game, the rounds of which would come in carefully segued segments of Dr. Lecter's own making. His touch needed to be precise and deliberate-the influence, fine and sharp.

He thought of the celesta; an instrument requiring a firmer touch than the piano, but with the most subtle, ethereal of sounds. Of course then, he thought of Tchaikovsky's Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies. He found it continued playing in the acoustics of his sprawling mind, all through the night. . .

The main course was grilled medallions of pork in black cherry-pepper sauce with spaetzle and braised fennel. By this time, they were not rowdy, by any means, but the atmosphere was hot and alive. He eyed Etienne. She was looking at him, with her incidental smirk. He watched his attendants. David Dresler and Joseph Strobl took turns ogling Etienne, while Léonie Strobl and Rita Steiner took turns batting their eyes at Adrian Baur, who watched Valerie Martin, who hummed her approval at Dr. Lecter's cooking.

Later on, everyone began to scatter-wandering, talking and drinking. In the downstairs study, David and Adrian Baur sat in the club chairs drinking cognac and discussing the presumed doom of philology. They were speaking in German and their heads came up when Dr. Lecter entered the room.

"Herr Boucher. Won't you join us? I'd like your take on something, if you're not too busy playing host," said Adrian, ignoring David who looked away, his mouth twitching.

"Erst kommt das Fressen, dann kommt die Moral, yes," said Dr. Lecter. "I'd be honored."

"You know Brecht?" Adrian said, impressed.

"Yes, but don't expect me to be an accurate representation."

"Herr Boucher, tell us really," began David, "are you from America? If so, I would understand why you so deftly avoid discussing your origin."

"I've spent some time there, like many of us. But, no."

"I've never actually been," Adrian reflected. "Do you think they even have philologists there?"

"They barely read, there."

"Should America be the evidence of philology's fate, though?" asked David and Dr. Lecter shook his head.

"Oh, I don't think so. I think the root of the problem is that the disciplines of German studies and classics have drifted apart, to both their disadvantages."

"I agree," David responded quickly, if not wearily. He looked up at the appearance of Etienne. "Frau Alarie," he said, giving a bow of his head as the three of them stood.

"Frau Alarie, I was just speaking with Herr Strobl," said Dr. Lecter. "I believe he's looking for you. I last saw him in the library, shall I escort you?"

She shook her head. "No, thank you. Has anyone seen Valerie?"

"She's in the music room with Frau Stroble and my grandmother," David said.

She nodded, looking from one man to the other. "I'll go and see what Her Strobl wants," she said, raising an eyebrow at Dr. Lecter. He bowed his head and the men sat back down.

"Pretty one," Adrian reflected, when she was safely down the hall. "But her cousin, Frau Martin…"

David laughed and looked at Dr. Lecter who briefly raised his eyebrows, just once.

"Perhaps we should lure her here and leave the two of you alone for a bit," David joked.

Adrian scoffed and waved a hand, as Dr. Lecter sat back in his chair. "I don't think that's a bad idea. Why not?" Dr. Lecter wondered, aloud. "It would give you a chance to get to know her. That's what these things are for, are they not?"

"Good point," David said, pleased to have survived a few minutes of conversation with the razor tongued Herr Doctor.

"Well…" began Adrian.

"I do wonder…" considered Dr. Lecter, a finger along his nose.

"Yes? What?" asked Adrian.

"Well, I was speaking to Frau Alarie the other day. She was telling me about her cousin who was visiting, and I of course, invited her along. Frau Martin is single, but Frau Alarie indicated to me that she has a tendency to be rather…choosy. Which is a commendable trait."

"Oh, yes. Depending on what you're looking for," said David, grinning at Adrian, whose folded hands opened in admittance or prayer.

"I'd enjoy settling down, to be truthful. I am getting older and I've had my fun. Do you find yourself in a similar state, Herr Doctor?"

"Ah, don't subvert Herr Dresler's and my intrusion, just yet. We're talking about you," said Dr. Lecter.

"Yes, yes, let's keep talking about you, Herr Baur," David said, smiling.

"Fine, fine. Well, I am not opposed to pursuing the allusive Frau Martin. Admittedly, though, it's been a while."

"Ummm. Maybe you should…" Dr. Lecter began, trailing off as he gazed at the fireplace.

"Yes?" wondered David.

"I can't help but think: if you are endeared to Frau Martin, who we have established is a bit fickle, then perhaps it would be prudent to avoid pursuing her at the outset."

"Do you mean I should give chase to another, first?" asked Adrian.

"Oh, that's a very interesting idea. I've done that before, in fact," said David. "As an undergraduate I was enamored with a girl, Patrice. I wasn't the only one, you see. I was also rather inexperienced, at the time. A friend suggested I 'practice' on another young woman or two, to get some experience. I don't mean to say I womanized. I suppose one could call it that, but they were willing participants, after all. In fact, that was the point. To enjoy the company of someone who enjoys the company of others, for the sake of that company. Nothing more, nothing less. When I felt more confident, I set my sights on Patrice, who had notice, peripherally, that others seemed to enjoy my company. She was more receptive to my advances."

"Very well articulated, Herr Dresler," commended Dr. Lecter.

"Thank you, Herr Doctor," said David, clearly pleased.

"Who, though?" Adrian seemed to ask the fireplace.

"Perhaps it would be best to play it by ear," suggested Dr. Lecter. Adrian nodded, and David sat back in his chair, as though it were all settled.

Not long after, in the hallway, Dr. Lecter waited a few moments outside the library. He poised his hand over the door handle, waited close to a minute, before brusquely entering. A sharp movement behind a lamp shade preceded Etienne standing, abruptly. Her cheeks were red, her eyes furious, sparking in the lamplight beneath her face. Joseph Strobl retreated a hand to his lap and he stood with her, at length. By the time he had turned, Etienne had come to the door, pausing briefly in front of Dr. Lecter who plunged deeply into her eyes in the brief time allotted. She flitted out of the room then, like a startled finch.

"That didn't go well," said Joseph.

"I see. Don't take it too badly, she is young and impetuous."

"Impetuous? That's a nice way of putting it. I hate it when little sluts like Etienne suddenly put on a show, as though they're not a little slut. They know it, I know it, but when it comes down to action, suddenly they play the part of an offended little maiden."

"I certainly hope she won't divulge this to anyone. For your sake, of course."

"No," he said, shaking his head and coming around in front of the sofa. He put his hands in his pockets when he stood in front of Dr. Lecter. "I made sure of that."

Down the hall and to the left were the French doors leading to the terrace, and Dr. Lecter found Etienne there, her arms crossed and one shoulder pressed against the wall. She did not look away from the trees outside when he approached.

"Tell me what happened," he said.

"You need me to?"

"No. But I thought it might do you some good to say it out loud to someone."

"He put his hand on my thigh and suggested we do something. I declined."

"And?"

"And he threatened to fire me and destroy my reputation if I told anyone."

"Ummm. And what will you do?"

She finally looked at him, irritation explicit on her face. "What should I do? What can I do?"

"Remember the room full of jackals?" She looked away again, and he went on. "Do you remember what you are?"

"So you say."

"Quit feeling sorry for yourself, you're wasting time."

She frowned for a moment, before taking a long, deep breath. He waited quietly until she straightened up. She turned to face him, fully. "What would you suggest I do, then?"

"Take revenge, of course."

"And why would you care if I do or not?"

"I have my own game. Help me win mine, and I guarantee you'll win yours."

They looked at one another for a few moments, their eyes hungry in the dark.

The music room was on the other side of the home, but the music playing from the study still carried. Here, Léonie, Valerie Martin and Mizzi Dresler lounged around drinking Chartreuse. Mizzi sat at the piano bench facing Léonie, who sat comfortably in a wing-back chair. Valerie stood at the lit fire, her drink on the mantle.

"Well, she strikes me as a rather dull woman. You would think that being the wife of a performer, she'd have a bit more charisma," said Léonie. Mizzi waved her hand and cleared her throat in a way that made Léonie grip the chair arms so as not to cringe.

"A woman should not be obligated to take on exhausting personas in order to please her husband's cohorts, if you ask me,"Mizzi said.

"Who are you talking about?" asked Valerie, turning around to face them.

"Frau Wagner-Artz. The pianist's wife."

"Oh."

"Anyway, at least it's amusing to watch your grandson flounce about in front of you and Etienne," said Léonie, throwing her head in Valerie's direction.

"Woman, you put David to shame when it comes to flouncing!" Mizzi countered.

Before Léonie could respond, Etienne appeared in the doorway. "Here you are," she said, looking at Valerie and bringing David into the room with her. "Herr Doctor requests your company in the library with Herr Strobl. He said he has a painting he wishes to show you. By Charpentier."

"Charpentier!" Valerie exclaimed. "He was listening at dinner."

"Oh, yes. He's always listening," said David, grinning at Etienne.

"I can't believe he didn't tell me he had an original Charpentier when I mentioned my love for her work," she said, a hand on her chest. She turned to Mizzi and Léonie and gave her head a bow. "Excuse me," she said, and David and Etienne moved aside for her.

Etienne placed a narrow hand on her cousin's arm as she passed, leaned in and whispered. David was the only one who noticed, but did not hear what was whispered, nor said a word.

"Where in God's name is Ernst? And Frau Steiner, for that matter," Mizzi wondered, scowling at her empty drink.

"I'll bet they're rubbing against each other in some dark room," said Léonie, and Etienne gave Valerie a quick nod, who disappeared down the hall. She then came into the room, swiftly.

"Frau Strobl, I'll fetch you another drink. David, will you take Frau Dresler's glass?"

"Of course."

"Now, here's a couple of good, young people," said Mizzi. David gave her a bow of his head as he took her drink. "Thank you, David," she said, looking away, her eyes somewhat wobbly. "And I'll bet you're wrong, Léonie. Those two couldn't have less chemistry."

"There's certainly chemistry from one end," Léonie responded, and David and Etienne could hear Mizzi's grating cackle from down the hall.

"How can you stand Frau Strobl? She's truly awful," David said, when they were alone.

"She's too distracted by her own secret misery to be harmful. I don't worry about her. Speaking of secrets, may I trust you with one of my own?" She asked, her voice becoming a whisper, even as they entered the kitchen. Wagner-Artz and his wife were in the adjacent dining room but did not look up.

"Of course," he said. She made a show of looking around, glad of the higher volume of music in the empty kitchen. Still, she moved closer to him. His fingers twitched at his sides.

"My lovely cousin is taken with you," she whispered, grinning.

"Oh! Your-your cousin?"

Etienne nodded, turning around to refill Léonie's drink. Remembering to do the same, David moved to stand next to her at the bar. "I had no idea."

"In case you decide to pursue her, I'll warn you: she plays hard to get."

"I see."

When they were finished, Etienne turned to face him. "You know," she said in a dreamy voice," it's funny. I always find I suddenly have a thing for anyone Valerie finishes with. Who knows what that says about me," she said, shaking her head. She eyed him and smiled, giving him a gentle elbow to the arm. "Perhaps you're next," she joked, and laughed for good measure. David's smile was lopsided.

In a sconce-lit hallway, Dr. Lecter passed Valerie. He gave her a nod, deftly handing her €500 notes. She stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Is this why you asked Etienne to bring me here?" she asked him in a low whisper.

He nodded once. She went on, "You're sure no one knows I'm a-"

"No one knows. Thank you, Madam," he said, and they walked on in opposite directions down the hall.

As he passed the stairs, he found Rita Steiner alone with one hand draped on the banister, and one foot on the first step. She turned quickly when he cleared his throat behind her.

"Oh!" she said, a hand on her chest. She stepped down, turning to face him. Her other hand still gripped the banister. "You frightened me, Herr Boucher."

"I apologize. May I help you find something?"

"No, no. I was just doing a bit of exploring, I hope it's alright."

"Need a bit of solitude?" he said, with a tilt of his head. Rita Steiner was not where she belonged. He held his hands behind his back and Rita's hand finally let go of the banister, and she crossed her arms.

"Truth be told, Ernst fell asleep in the living room."

"Did he?" Dr. Lecter raised his eyebrows and smiled.

"He did! He's just snoring away on your sofa."

Dr. Lecter laughed, and the base of Rita's spine was not the only place that tingled. "The hazards of gifting an old man with your presence, I suppose," he said, and Rita smiled.

"He isn't so very old. And he's so very smart. In fact, he makes me feel rather foolish, at times."

"Not intentionally, I hope."

"Goodness, no."

"Ernst is not a cruel man, in my limited experience. Though, between you and me, he can be regrettably self-pitying, at times. No one is without fault, of course."

"I do know what you mean," she said, coming a little closer. Nothing comforts weaker animals more than the prospect of preying on another. In the case of humans, we prey upon the character, most readily. "Sometimes, after I've soothed his ego for the second or third time in an evening, I feel rather exhausted."

"It isn't wrong to yearn for something requiring less energy," began Dr. Lecter. I've certainly been guilty, myself. I hope you would never think I would judge you if you were to mingle with others here, tonight. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if Ernst would be willing to turn a cheek. As fragile as the male ego can be, especially at his age, Ernst is comfortable with his place in the world. He lives on literature, not we mortals. You and I, Rita, are the fake, plastic reeds around which Wagner swims in his little aquarium. We do not feed him, no. He feeds upon the little morsels of ideas and fables provided to him."

"How true," she said, her hand returning to her chest. "Herr Doctor, you speak so beautifully. You must be one of the cleverest men I've met."

"Frau Steiner, if I were to use the wits given to me, I should assume a woman of your grace doesn't exist." He watched her blush and look at the walls and little tables in the room until she felt safe in returning to his face. "Furthermore, any man in this house should be honored to have their heart broken by you. Now, tell me who that might be."

God, but he hoped she did not choose him.

"Can I really trust you to be discreet, Herr Doctor?"

"You may trust me with anything."

She lowered her voice. "I would very much enjoy talking with Herr Baur."

"An excellent choice. Well. In regard to Ernst's extraordinary ability to fall asleep anywhere, I'm sorry you were left without entertainment. Would you like to join me in the kitchen? I was just going to refresh some drinks."

"That's alright, I suppose I'll get back to Ernst and hazard waking him up."

"Very well."

When he did not move to leave, but only stood watching her with his frozen smile and unnatural posture, Rita chuckled nervously and came forward.

"What is up there?" she asked, nodding her head behind her.

"My private quarters. I know the house is large," he said, pausing. A sharp, sweeping motion of his arm made her flinch. "The living room is down that way, through the great hall. If you go through the study and make a right, you'll find your sleeping paramour."

Another quiet chuckle, and she followed his outstretched hand, looking back once from down the corridor to see him still standing there, his hands behind his back watching her go.

Joseph still fuming in the library, pawed at various books on the shelves, turned a globe on its axis and crossed his arms, glaring at a painting on the wall. In it, an old, grinning man seemed to lurch toward a decadently dressed young woman. He offered her a purse of coins, and the woman looks out, looks at the viewer, a small smile on her face.

He turned at the sound of the doors closing softly behind him.

"You," he said, before clearing his throat. "Excuse me. Frau Martin. You gave me a start."

"I'm beginning to think it's the house," she said, coming into the room after a moment. "I nearly collided moments ago with Herr Boucher," she said, coming closer. Joseph watched her, leaning his head back slightly when she was closer than appropriate.

He took a step back. "A strange sort of man, Herr Boucher," he murmured, watching her.

"Yes. He is good-looking though. In that strange sort of way you don't immediately notice."

"If you say so."

"Not like you."

"What do you mean?" he asked, when she took a step closer.

"I mean it took me no time at all to see that you were handsome." She put a hand on his arm.

He looked down at her hand for a moment, and Valerie could see the bald spot forming on the crown of his head. He was grinning when his head came up. "You are rather comely yourself, Frau Martin."

She pouted her lip for a moment. "Please. Valerie."

"Valerie," he said slowly, as though tasting the word in his mouth. He smiled again, his teeth ever-so-slightly crooked, and leaned in. Valerie turned her head a fraction to allow him access to her neck, and she smiled at the painting, her eyes glazed.

Sometime later, Dr. Lecter found Wagner and Steiner in the kitchen with Etienne and David, who each smiled brightly at his entry.

"There's the host. Herr Doctor, would it be any trouble to let us out onto the terrace? David and I were just talking about how nice a night it is," Etienne said.

The Wagner-Artzes came into the kitchen, then-glassy eyed from drinking like the rest of the house, save Etienne and Dr. Lecter, who were entirely sober.

"Oh, what a wonderful idea!" said Rita.

"Of course, it's no trouble at all. I'll turn on the lights and provide you with music as well," said Dr. Lecter. "Oh, Ernst," he went on, tilting his head slightly to look at Wagner," After I've escorted them outside, I wondered if you would be willing to part with Rita for a bit. I've wanted to speak with you."

"Certainly, John," said Wagner, giving Rita's hand a squeeze. She kissed his cheek and hooked arms with Etienne.

"You and Herr Doctor go ahead," Etienne said, smiling at Rita. "David and I must be 'good young people', as Frau Dresler said, and bring her and Frau Strobl their drinks."

"Nonsense, we'll join you," said Rita.

Dr. Lecter spoke before Etienne could protest. "If we're going to see Frau Strobl and Frau Dresler, we should tell them that Herr Baur is presently alone in the study. Perhaps they wouldn't mind keeping him company," said Dr. Lecter.

"Of course," agreed Rita, and Etienne smiled at her as they all made their way out of the kitchen.

"I'll make my drink," said Wagner as they all left. "You'll know where to find me."

In the music room, Mizzi scowled at everyone. "I'm old, I'm not moving. And I don't mind being alone. Léonie can go to the study with Herr Baur. You all go, I want to look at the fire and smoke my pipe. Herr Doctor?"

"I'll open a window."

"I'd like to go out on the terrace, too," Léonie protested. "Why am I designated to keep Herr Baur company?"

"You're certainly welcome to join us, Frau Strobl," said Dr. Lecter. Etienne eyed him nervously. "Etienne can keep him company, instead. You wouldn't mind entertaining him, would you, Etienne?"

"Oh, alright," Léonie said quickly. " Etienne is off-duty tonight, of course. I'll go."

"Whatever suits you, Frau Strobl," said Etienne, with a humble bow of her head.

When Dr. Lecter returned to the kitchen, Wagner was indeed, right where he'd left him. He considered everything for a moment, while he still had the privacy Wagner's back allowed him.

The old crone out of the way, smoking in the music room. Valerie seducing an ego-bruised Joseph in the library. David, Rita and the Wagner-Artzes out of the way on the terrace with Etienne. Adrian alone with the desperate Léonie in the study. Ernst alone with him here, in the kitchen. The game was set. You could never entirely predict what people would do, it was true. Yet, he felt confident that the fragile egos of Joseph, Adrian, Léonie and Rita would make them easily molded. He smiled when Wagner turned to him.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Wagner asked.

"Frau Steiner, of course."

"Has it worked then? Does she prefer Herr Baur?"

"She does."

"She said so, herself?"

"Oh, yes. In great confidence."

"And you think he's the right choice?"

"He's perfect."

"What if they fall in love?"

"Herr Baur is not going to fall in love with anyone. However, if he was going to fall in love with anyone, it would be with Frau Martin, not Frau Steiner."

"Excellent. John, you're a genius."

Dr. Lecter took a deep and humble bow. "Now. Let's drink."

Quotes

Dr. Lecter quotes Brecht and William M. Calder III

Translations

Erst kommt das Fressen, dann kommt die Moral.-"First comes the feeding(as an animal eats), then comes morality."