What About The Girl?
By Risty Maskell
Disclaimer: If you recognise it, chances are I don't own it, so it belongs to Thomas Harris. If you do not recognise it however, It might be mine.
Summary: Set during Red Dragon...a few new insertions...but this bunny won't leave me alone... who is that little girl?
~*~*~
1986
~*~*~
The dinner party was going surprisingly well. Dr Hannibal Lecter, FBI Psychologist was talking to the Symphony Board on the disappearence of Benjamin Raspail, a flutist who couldn't play a note if his life depended on it.
"Hannibal, confess. What is this divine-looking amuse-bouche?" Asked the chairwoman of the Symphony Board.
Hannibal smiled. "If I told you, I'm afraid you wouldn't even try it." Hannibal answered, the Symphony Board laughing.
"Daddy?" A tired voice asked. A little girl of about four years old wandered into the room. She was wearing a long white nightgown and was holding a teddy bear in her arm. She was rubbing her eyes free of sleep. Hannibal looked up.
"Juliette, what are you doing out of bed, Sweetheart? It's very late."
"I couldn't sleep, daddy, I had a bad dream." Juliette raised her head and the guests could see tear streaks on her small delicate cheeks.
"Please excuse me for a minute," Hannibal said and went over to the girl, picking her up and giving her a hug. "Juliette, honey, Daddy has to entertain some guests right now, I'll be up in, say, half an hour?"
Juliette flung her arms around Hannibal's neck and buried her face in his shoulder. "Okay." Came the muffled reply. Hannibal put her down and she walked back up the stairs to her room. Hannibal turned back to his guests and smiled.
"I'm sorry, my daughter Juliette." He explained and the Chairwoman nodded serenely.
"It's all right, Hannibal, she's very beautiful. Looks just like you."
"Well thank you, Ma'am."
"May I ask," One of the trophy wives asked. "Where is her mother?"
"Her mother was killed in a car accident when Juliette was twelve months old." Hannibal explained. "She often asks me whether she looks like Angela, and I tell her she grows more beautiful every day."
Everyone smiled. It was a nice scene.
~
After Hanibal had seen everyone out, he walked up the stairs to Juliette's room. Juliette was lying on her bed, fast asleep, clutching Boris, her bear. Hannibal smiled and put the child back under the covers and turning off the night light. He went and changed into a chashmere cardigan instead of his dinner outfit and walked back down the stairs and began cleaning up the dinner plates. The doorbell rang. Hannibal went to the door and opened it.
"Special Agent Graham, what an unexpected pleasure."
"I'm sorry to bother you, Dr Lecter, I know it's very late." Will Graham said, his dark eyes etched with tiredness.
"No bother, we're both night owls, I think. Come in, let me take your coat."
As Will came in, Hannibal took his coat and hung it by the door, concealing a dagger on the bookshelf. He followed Will into the study and sat at his desk. Will paced restlessly, obviously thinking about something. Hannibal watched him, his fingers linked over his middle. "You look tired, Will. You ought to get more sleep."
"I'll sleep after this bastard is behind bars." Said Will, gesturing irritably.
Lecter's face was expressionless. "You're part of a three hundred man task force. No one expects you to catch him all by yourself. Have a seat, Will."
Will sat down in the chair offered and ran a hand through his hair. Despite his weariness, he leant forward, his face alive with fierce excitement. "We've been on the wrong track this whole time, Doctor. You and I. Our whole profile is wrong." Lecter didn't say anything. "We've been looking for somebody with a crazy grudge. Some kind of anatomical knowledge, decertified doctors, med school dropouts, laid-off mortuary workers -"
"From the precision of the cuts, yes. And his choice of - souvenirs." Lecter finished.
"But that's where we're off target. He's not collecting body parts." Will said, looking straight at Hannibal.
"Then why keep them?" Hannibal asked, no emotion apparent on his face.
"He's not keeping them." Will stated matter-of-factly. "He's eating them!"
Lecter was silent once again. Will continued
"We were at Molly's parents' for New Year's. Her dad was showing Josh how to carve a roasted chicken. And he said to my son, "The tenderest part of a chicken is the oysters, here, on either side of the back." I'd never heard that expression before. 'Oysters.'" Will paused. "I had a sudden flash of the third victim, Darcy Taylor. She was missing flesh from her back. And then it hit me... Liver. Kidneys. Tongue. Thymus. Every single victim lost some body part used in cooking."
The room seemed to hold its breath. "Have you shared this with the bereau?" Lecter asked.
"I needed to see you first. But I'm right. I know I'm right." Will said, running his hand through his hair again. "Somehow I'm starting to be able to think like this guy."
"And how does that make you feel?" Hannibal asked, an eyebrow raised.
"It's unpleasant. It frightens me a little." Will said.
"Why?"
"Because it's not scientific, it's emotional."
"Fascinating. I'd always suspected as much. You're an eidetaker."
Will looked puzzled.
"Someone with a remarkable visual memory. Combined, in your case, with pure empathy. That's quite rare... How I'd love to get you on my couch."
"I'm not psychic, doctor." Will said, half rolling his eyes.
"No, no, this is different. More akin to artistic imagination. You're able to assume the emotional point of view of other people - even those that might scare or sicken you... A troubling gift, I should think. Perception's a tool that's pointed at both ends." Lecter explained.
"Maybe that sounds right, but it still doesn't make sense to me. You're the best forensic psychiatrist I know. And yet somehow, in all our time together, this possibility never occurred to you." Will said, looking at Hannibal.
There was a silence.
"I'm only human, Will. Perhaps I've made a mistake."
"You don't strike me as someone who makes many mistakes, Dr Lecter." Will said.
"I'm sorry to think I might no longer enjoy your full confidence." Said Lecter, not accusingly, but more curiously, his eyes gleaming in the firelight.
"I didn't say that. I don't know what I'm saying. I almost had it... I'm very tired." Will said, instantly backing off.
"It'll come to you. Look. Why don't you come back in the morning? I'll clear some time off my schedule, and we'll get started on revising our profile. Sound good?"
Will hesitated a bit, then nodded.
"You rest here, then. I'll get your coat. Won't be a tick." Hannibal got up and walked to where he had hung the coat and also picked up the Venetian stiletto. I'm sorry it had to come to this, Will. He walked back into the study, and saw Will looking at a book. Larousse Gastronomique... He made his way quietly over to Will's side and as the young agent turned, he stuck him with the stiletto. He hissed. "Don't move. You're in shock now. I don't want you to feel any pain." Graham struggled. "In a moment you'll begin to be lightheaded. Then drowsy. Don't resist. It's so gentle. Like slipping into a warm bath..." He hissed again as Graham struggled weakly. "I regret that it has come to this, Will. But every game must have its ending." Slowly, Hannibal lowered Graham to the floor and wrenched out the stiletto. "Remarkable boy. I do admire your courage." He said. "I think I'll eat your heart..." As he lowered his face toward the young agent, Will stabbed him with half a dozen Sioux arrows. Lecter straightened up and began to stumble backwards before coming back towards Graham, a menacing gleam in his eyes. Will reached for the .38 pistol in his shoulder holster and fired, almost blindly. Hannibal fell back across the desk, his head tilted back. Graham had gotten up and as he saw Lecter's motionless body, he fell to the ground in a heap, blood seeping through his stab wound.
Up in her room, Juliette Lecter sat up suddenly, running out of her bedroom and down the stairs. She ran into her father's study and her small eyes widened at the sight. She screamed. She saw a man she didn't know and her father. "Daddy!" She screamed. "Daddy!" She ran to him, tugging his hand and in a panicked fit of strength, she managed to pull his body over the desk, so his head was not hung over the side. His breathing was rather ragged.
"Jul-Juliette." He rasped. "Call the ambulance..." His eyes flickered. Juliette cried harder. She ran to the telephone and with small trembling fingers, she rang 911.
"911, what is your emergency?" said an operator.
"My daddy has arrows sticking out of him!" Juliette said.
The operator was instantly alert. "Miss, where do you live?"
Juliette was sobbing. "At 17 Chandler Square! Come quickly!" She said haltingly.
"All right, Miss, I'm sending an ambulance right away. Don't worry! We'll be there soon. Stay on the line for me, okay?" The operator said kindly. "How old are you?"
"Four and a half." Juliette said, the sleeve of her nightgown soaked with tears. The operator kept talking to her until sirens could be heard outside. The paramedics rang the doorbell. Juliette ran to the door, opening it and led the paramedics to her father and Will Graham. On of the medics swore. THere were three. The two male paramedics quickly went to take care of Hannibal and Graham, while the female medic took care of the hysteric four year old.
"Where's your Mommy?" She asked.
"In heaven with the angels." Juliette said. She watched the medics take her father on a stretcher. Hannibal turned his head and smiled slightly at her as if to say 'I'm going to be fine, Sweetheart, don't you worry.'
The female medic took Juliette by the hand and led her to the ambulance and sat her in the passenger seat.
By Risty Maskell
Disclaimer: If you recognise it, chances are I don't own it, so it belongs to Thomas Harris. If you do not recognise it however, It might be mine.
Summary: Set during Red Dragon...a few new insertions...but this bunny won't leave me alone... who is that little girl?
~*~*~
1986
~*~*~
The dinner party was going surprisingly well. Dr Hannibal Lecter, FBI Psychologist was talking to the Symphony Board on the disappearence of Benjamin Raspail, a flutist who couldn't play a note if his life depended on it.
"Hannibal, confess. What is this divine-looking amuse-bouche?" Asked the chairwoman of the Symphony Board.
Hannibal smiled. "If I told you, I'm afraid you wouldn't even try it." Hannibal answered, the Symphony Board laughing.
"Daddy?" A tired voice asked. A little girl of about four years old wandered into the room. She was wearing a long white nightgown and was holding a teddy bear in her arm. She was rubbing her eyes free of sleep. Hannibal looked up.
"Juliette, what are you doing out of bed, Sweetheart? It's very late."
"I couldn't sleep, daddy, I had a bad dream." Juliette raised her head and the guests could see tear streaks on her small delicate cheeks.
"Please excuse me for a minute," Hannibal said and went over to the girl, picking her up and giving her a hug. "Juliette, honey, Daddy has to entertain some guests right now, I'll be up in, say, half an hour?"
Juliette flung her arms around Hannibal's neck and buried her face in his shoulder. "Okay." Came the muffled reply. Hannibal put her down and she walked back up the stairs to her room. Hannibal turned back to his guests and smiled.
"I'm sorry, my daughter Juliette." He explained and the Chairwoman nodded serenely.
"It's all right, Hannibal, she's very beautiful. Looks just like you."
"Well thank you, Ma'am."
"May I ask," One of the trophy wives asked. "Where is her mother?"
"Her mother was killed in a car accident when Juliette was twelve months old." Hannibal explained. "She often asks me whether she looks like Angela, and I tell her she grows more beautiful every day."
Everyone smiled. It was a nice scene.
~
After Hanibal had seen everyone out, he walked up the stairs to Juliette's room. Juliette was lying on her bed, fast asleep, clutching Boris, her bear. Hannibal smiled and put the child back under the covers and turning off the night light. He went and changed into a chashmere cardigan instead of his dinner outfit and walked back down the stairs and began cleaning up the dinner plates. The doorbell rang. Hannibal went to the door and opened it.
"Special Agent Graham, what an unexpected pleasure."
"I'm sorry to bother you, Dr Lecter, I know it's very late." Will Graham said, his dark eyes etched with tiredness.
"No bother, we're both night owls, I think. Come in, let me take your coat."
As Will came in, Hannibal took his coat and hung it by the door, concealing a dagger on the bookshelf. He followed Will into the study and sat at his desk. Will paced restlessly, obviously thinking about something. Hannibal watched him, his fingers linked over his middle. "You look tired, Will. You ought to get more sleep."
"I'll sleep after this bastard is behind bars." Said Will, gesturing irritably.
Lecter's face was expressionless. "You're part of a three hundred man task force. No one expects you to catch him all by yourself. Have a seat, Will."
Will sat down in the chair offered and ran a hand through his hair. Despite his weariness, he leant forward, his face alive with fierce excitement. "We've been on the wrong track this whole time, Doctor. You and I. Our whole profile is wrong." Lecter didn't say anything. "We've been looking for somebody with a crazy grudge. Some kind of anatomical knowledge, decertified doctors, med school dropouts, laid-off mortuary workers -"
"From the precision of the cuts, yes. And his choice of - souvenirs." Lecter finished.
"But that's where we're off target. He's not collecting body parts." Will said, looking straight at Hannibal.
"Then why keep them?" Hannibal asked, no emotion apparent on his face.
"He's not keeping them." Will stated matter-of-factly. "He's eating them!"
Lecter was silent once again. Will continued
"We were at Molly's parents' for New Year's. Her dad was showing Josh how to carve a roasted chicken. And he said to my son, "The tenderest part of a chicken is the oysters, here, on either side of the back." I'd never heard that expression before. 'Oysters.'" Will paused. "I had a sudden flash of the third victim, Darcy Taylor. She was missing flesh from her back. And then it hit me... Liver. Kidneys. Tongue. Thymus. Every single victim lost some body part used in cooking."
The room seemed to hold its breath. "Have you shared this with the bereau?" Lecter asked.
"I needed to see you first. But I'm right. I know I'm right." Will said, running his hand through his hair again. "Somehow I'm starting to be able to think like this guy."
"And how does that make you feel?" Hannibal asked, an eyebrow raised.
"It's unpleasant. It frightens me a little." Will said.
"Why?"
"Because it's not scientific, it's emotional."
"Fascinating. I'd always suspected as much. You're an eidetaker."
Will looked puzzled.
"Someone with a remarkable visual memory. Combined, in your case, with pure empathy. That's quite rare... How I'd love to get you on my couch."
"I'm not psychic, doctor." Will said, half rolling his eyes.
"No, no, this is different. More akin to artistic imagination. You're able to assume the emotional point of view of other people - even those that might scare or sicken you... A troubling gift, I should think. Perception's a tool that's pointed at both ends." Lecter explained.
"Maybe that sounds right, but it still doesn't make sense to me. You're the best forensic psychiatrist I know. And yet somehow, in all our time together, this possibility never occurred to you." Will said, looking at Hannibal.
There was a silence.
"I'm only human, Will. Perhaps I've made a mistake."
"You don't strike me as someone who makes many mistakes, Dr Lecter." Will said.
"I'm sorry to think I might no longer enjoy your full confidence." Said Lecter, not accusingly, but more curiously, his eyes gleaming in the firelight.
"I didn't say that. I don't know what I'm saying. I almost had it... I'm very tired." Will said, instantly backing off.
"It'll come to you. Look. Why don't you come back in the morning? I'll clear some time off my schedule, and we'll get started on revising our profile. Sound good?"
Will hesitated a bit, then nodded.
"You rest here, then. I'll get your coat. Won't be a tick." Hannibal got up and walked to where he had hung the coat and also picked up the Venetian stiletto. I'm sorry it had to come to this, Will. He walked back into the study, and saw Will looking at a book. Larousse Gastronomique... He made his way quietly over to Will's side and as the young agent turned, he stuck him with the stiletto. He hissed. "Don't move. You're in shock now. I don't want you to feel any pain." Graham struggled. "In a moment you'll begin to be lightheaded. Then drowsy. Don't resist. It's so gentle. Like slipping into a warm bath..." He hissed again as Graham struggled weakly. "I regret that it has come to this, Will. But every game must have its ending." Slowly, Hannibal lowered Graham to the floor and wrenched out the stiletto. "Remarkable boy. I do admire your courage." He said. "I think I'll eat your heart..." As he lowered his face toward the young agent, Will stabbed him with half a dozen Sioux arrows. Lecter straightened up and began to stumble backwards before coming back towards Graham, a menacing gleam in his eyes. Will reached for the .38 pistol in his shoulder holster and fired, almost blindly. Hannibal fell back across the desk, his head tilted back. Graham had gotten up and as he saw Lecter's motionless body, he fell to the ground in a heap, blood seeping through his stab wound.
Up in her room, Juliette Lecter sat up suddenly, running out of her bedroom and down the stairs. She ran into her father's study and her small eyes widened at the sight. She screamed. She saw a man she didn't know and her father. "Daddy!" She screamed. "Daddy!" She ran to him, tugging his hand and in a panicked fit of strength, she managed to pull his body over the desk, so his head was not hung over the side. His breathing was rather ragged.
"Jul-Juliette." He rasped. "Call the ambulance..." His eyes flickered. Juliette cried harder. She ran to the telephone and with small trembling fingers, she rang 911.
"911, what is your emergency?" said an operator.
"My daddy has arrows sticking out of him!" Juliette said.
The operator was instantly alert. "Miss, where do you live?"
Juliette was sobbing. "At 17 Chandler Square! Come quickly!" She said haltingly.
"All right, Miss, I'm sending an ambulance right away. Don't worry! We'll be there soon. Stay on the line for me, okay?" The operator said kindly. "How old are you?"
"Four and a half." Juliette said, the sleeve of her nightgown soaked with tears. The operator kept talking to her until sirens could be heard outside. The paramedics rang the doorbell. Juliette ran to the door, opening it and led the paramedics to her father and Will Graham. On of the medics swore. THere were three. The two male paramedics quickly went to take care of Hannibal and Graham, while the female medic took care of the hysteric four year old.
"Where's your Mommy?" She asked.
"In heaven with the angels." Juliette said. She watched the medics take her father on a stretcher. Hannibal turned his head and smiled slightly at her as if to say 'I'm going to be fine, Sweetheart, don't you worry.'
The female medic took Juliette by the hand and led her to the ambulance and sat her in the passenger seat.