Disclaimer: The
characters of Hannibal Lecter, Clarice Starling, Jack Crawford, Mason
Verger and Paul
Krendler do not belong to me, but to Thomas Harris. No copyright
infringement intended. I don't see how I could make any money of it
anyway.
I'm just borrowing them for a ride. I'll turn them back. I promise ...
Or
maybe not ... Some phrases have borrowed too, but take it as a tribute
to the author.
Notes: OK. You're almost there.
Chapter 9
Leaving Clarice had been one of the most difficult decision Hannibal had ever taken. But he knew it was the only thing to do. He had never felt what he felt for Clarice for anybody else ... since Mischa. She was the only person on this earth that could complete him, and bring him peace. But he would rather renounce to her than ask her to follow him knowing she could regret it one day. It had to be her decision and there would be no going back. He knew she was smart enough to understand that.
He had watched her sleep for a long moment. The vision of her body peacefully asleep was now stored in his memory palace for ever.
After departing from Clarice' s apartment, he had passed in front of Crawford' s house but it was too late: lights were already on in what he had identified as the bathroom. Old Jackie would have a one day reprieve. Hannibal had no plan to kill him. Jack Crawford had been an adversary for too long, and a valuable one as well. But he would ensure the FBI guru would never be able to manipulate anybody again.
After all, he had well deserved his retirement. And a peaceful retirement as well, as he would have to renounce to both his eyes and his tongue. This tongue who had served so many lies to his Clarice, he would accommodate with a raisin sauce, following an old recipe of his. Of course, the eyes would go after, so that Jack could assist to the dinner.
Hannibal checked his equipment for the last time. He could definitely not rely on Crawford' s cooking material. It included medical instrumentation too and some anesthetic: despite all they could have written about him, Dr. Hannibal Lecter was not a savage.
Then he climbed up to his bedroom to have a little rest.
Clarice had arrived late in office. She went directly to Krantz office and explained him the situation. Crawford had already called her boss and it seemed he had told him exactly what he had said he would. But Clarice could never be sure: she found it difficult trusting Crawford again, after what she had lately discovered.
Clarice went down to her desk and met David, who started updating her on the last evolution of his investigations. They had made progress and had even arrested two more traffickers, whom they went to interrogate together. Clarice appreciated the fact that Dave did not ask her anything. He was treating her exactly as if she had never left the case. Working with him helped her setting apart the last events and relax a bit. She concentrated her mind on the job and left all the rest for later.
The afternoon went smooth. The end of her involvement in the Lecter case had removed a load from her conscience. Even if deep down inside she knew it was not resolving anything, she felt less guilty vs. the FBI for not releasing information ... and less guilty vs. Hannibal too.
She left the office early and went jogging for almost two hours. When she came back home, her whole body was aching but her mind was truly in peace. She took a hot shower and changed in comfortable woolen pajamas. Then she went to the kitchen and opened the fridge to see if she could afford a good dinner. She grinned: wouldn't be a gourmet meal tonight. For one instant, she was tempted by taking the phone and order a pizza, but then she changed her mind. She grabbed the few vegetables she had left and started preparing a salad. "Hannibal, you would be proud of me !" she thought. She froze. It had been a spontaneous thought. Was it possible that he was already so deep in her that she could not do the simplest things without thinking of what his reaction would be ? She sighed.
After dinner, she sat on her couch and switched on the TV. She zapped on a dozen channels but soon realized she was unable to concentrate on anything. She stopped on a musical channel, made herself more comfortable and closed her eyes.
Images of the previous night immediately invaded her mind. She could almost feel his skin and smell his scent. He had been so passionate and yet so tender with her, so attentive to her pleasure. No man had ever made love to her like that before. But she knew there was more to it. She knew it was not only the physical attraction. Hannibal Lecter was the first man she felt really herself with. She did not have to cheat or to pretend to be someone else. He understood her, sometimes better than herself. And he loved her, for what she was, not for what he wanted her to be.
But was she able to give this love back ?
She missed him. From that she was sure. At his very moment she wanted nothing more than to be with him, to talk to him, to listen to him, to feel the heat of his hands on her body. But could she love him for what he was ? Or could she love him in spite of what he was ? She was aware this was the most important love of her life and she did not want to cheat on it. She would decide to go for it only if she could be sure she was able to accept him fully and love him totally. The man and the cannibal. The beauty and the beast ...
She found herself back in Jack Crawford' s office the day he entrusted her with the mission of interviewing the famous psychopath. "Believe me, you don't want Hannibal Lecter inside your head." And if she did ? She let him in. Of course, she did it to save Catherine Martin, but was it the only reason ?
Then she saw officer Pembry when she met him in the Shelby County Courthouse in Memphis. He had been nice to her. She could not help the nausea when she thought of what was left of his face after Lecter had 'used' it. Pembry had not committed any crime. He was just doing his job. And even Mason Verger ... Verger was everything but a saint and deserved a punishment, but was Hannibal Lecter justice ? He had punished Verger, in the most cruel way, as he had punished Miggs. Sentenced to death for discourtesy ...
She never knew what Miggs was in for. He probably wasn't an innocent lamb either. But what about the two ambulance men and the man he killed in his escape ?
Hannibal Lecter had never hesitated eliminating anything he thought was an obstacle to his freedom. Not until that night in Chesapeake ... She was the obstacle then. He could have cut her hand or even killed her as easily as one kills a fly. But he didn't. He chopped off his own fingers rather than harm her. She saw the unimaginable pain on his face, and yet the intensity of his gaze when he stared at her just before going. There was no hate in his eyes. No anger either.
He was like these rabbits who nibble their own paw to get free from a trap. She knew he would always be on the run. She knew he would do it again. She knew it was a no return trip. Nobody could deny Hannibal Lecter his freedom with impunity. And he would never forgive anybody trying. Jack Crawford should have known that.
Jack ... Jack was in the way ... Clarice sat up. Crawford had tried to trap Lecter, and not in a fair way. Clarice remembered Hannibal' s eyes that Sunday when he had talked about his sister. He had scared her. It was not something he was likely to forgive easily. What did Hannibal said about Dubrowski and Sogliato ... "Think of them as messengers, messengers to the person responsible for all this" ... Crawford ! Shit !
Clarice stood up and ran to her bedroom to change. In less than five minutes she was in her car. She started the engine of the old Mustang and drove to Crawford' s house as fast as she could.
Clarice almost crashed into Crawford' s car. She jumped out of her car and ran to the door. Without thinking, she burst in the door and rushed in. She froze. They were in the dining room. Hannibal was turning his back to her. He had not turned back when she had entered, as if he had not heard her ... Or as if he was expecting her.
Jack Crawford was tied up on a chair on the other side of the table. He looked at her in disbelief, but recollected his senses rapidly. "Starling ! Your gun !". Clarice looked at Lecter. He hadn't said a word so far. He seemed busy preparing something on the table. He finally turned to her. His blue eyes locked to hers but he remained silent. He did not need to talk. There was so much in his look that any word would have sounded superfluous.
On his chair, Crawford was getting agitated. He was talking to her but she didn't get the words. In this very instant, Clarice got the answers to all her questions, to all her doubts. She loved him. Both the man and the animal. She could not approve of what he had done, but it did not change anything to the fact she loved him. She wanted him, and she was ready to give up on everything she ever believed in, if it was to be with him.
" - You don't have to be here, Clarice." Hannibal finally said. His voice was calm.
" - I'm here because I want to." She saw the sparkle in his eyes.
" - Good." he simply said. And then he turned back to what he was doing.
" - Starling ! What the hell are y..." Crawford' s face was red with rage.
" - With all due respect, Mr. Crawford, shut up. Hannibal, don't do it.
- Why, Clarice ?
- His death will not bring you anything but a hundred FBI agents on your tracks.
- Don't worry, old Jackie here will not die tonight. I have other plans for him."
Clarice got closer to the table.
" - Starling, what are you doing ? For Christ sake, wake up ! This is Hannibal Lecter, and you're an FBI agent !
- Not any more, Mr. Crawford. What are you going to do to him, Hannibal ?
- You're not gonna believe him ! Starling, he's already killed two men in this story. Do you think he would hesitate killing me and you ?
- He did not kill them."
Clarice was still staring at Hannibal. She stepped further towards him. She now was seeing the instruments on the table and started to have a better idea of what he had in mind.
" - Starling, he killed Dubrowski and Sogliato. Remember ! Whatever he told you ...
- He did not kill them. They are alive. I've seen them.
- You what ?
- I saw them."
Her last word seemed to stun Crawford for a while. She put her hand on Hannibal' s arm. His skin was cold and she saw a drop of sweat rolling from his forehead. But his eyes were as determined as they could be and his gestures were precise.
" - He's not worth it, Hannibal.
- There are things he should not have done, Clarice. Besides, he will never let us in peace.
- He will. Won't you, Mr. Crawford ?"
Crawford was speechless. He could not believe what he was seeing. But he understood this might be his only chance. He nodded.
" - And you believe him ?" Hannibal asked, amused. "After all the lies he gave you, you believe him, don't you ?
- Yes. I believe him. Because he knows this is his last chance. He understands that if he tries anything against us, it will be the end. Don't you, Jack ?"
Crawford nodded again. "I won't try anything." he whispered. Hannibal did not answer, but he went on manipulating the syringe of anesthetic. She put her hand on his left hand and hold it strongly. She felt the plastic of the prosthetic. She looked at him in the eyes.
"Hannibal, stop. If you love me, stop."
She felt him chill. Instinctively, she knew what he had in mind and she did not give him time to ask his question: "Yes. I will follow you anyway, whether you decide to go on with what you came here for, or you decide to spare him. I will follow you, because I love you."
Hannibal put the syringe on the table. He took a pen and a piece of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket and started writing something.
" - Jackie boy, you are a lucky man." he said. "Here is where you will find your two friends." He raised his face to Crawford. "I think you owe them an apology ... I suggest you respect the promise you just made to the lady, Jack.
- I will.
- Good. And don't you ever dare harassing Clarice again, or I swear I will find you."
Crawford nodded.
Hannibal took Clarice' s hand and they disappeared in the night.
Epilogue
The sun was bright and hot in the sicilian sky. They were having breakfast on the terrace of their room at the Baia Verde. The ionian see was of deep blue and the waves were bursting on the black volcanic rocks.
Clarice had never been in a more beautiful place. Hannibal was sitting in an armchair, reading the american newspaper the waiter had brought them. She went behind him and put her arms around his neck. She started to read the headlines over his shoulders. The whole page was celebrating special agent Jack Crawford who, thanks to his courage and his tenacity had rescued Jonathan Dubrowski and Frank Sogliato from the claws of Hannibal "The Cannibal" Lecter. The dangerous psychopath had managed to escape, but his hostages were safe.
The article was retracing Crawford' s brilliant career in the FBI, career that would soon end as he would retire in less than two months.
Clarice' s name was not mentioned.
Hannibal put his arm around Clarice' s waist and pulled her onto his knees. She chuckled. He brushed away a lock of hair that had fallen on her eyes.
" - So, Mrs. Edwards, what do you want to do today ?
- Umh ... I don't know, Mr. Edwards. What would you suggest ?"
He smiled and gently kissed her in the neck. "Well, I thought we could visit the bedroom. They say the view is fantastic from the bed ...". She smiled and curled up in his lap. "Whatever you say, Mr. Edwards."
- The End -
That's it. Thanks for reading and all my ratitude to those whot took (or will take) the time to leave a review.
Absolut.
Notes: OK. You're almost there.
Chapter 9
Leaving Clarice had been one of the most difficult decision Hannibal had ever taken. But he knew it was the only thing to do. He had never felt what he felt for Clarice for anybody else ... since Mischa. She was the only person on this earth that could complete him, and bring him peace. But he would rather renounce to her than ask her to follow him knowing she could regret it one day. It had to be her decision and there would be no going back. He knew she was smart enough to understand that.
He had watched her sleep for a long moment. The vision of her body peacefully asleep was now stored in his memory palace for ever.
After departing from Clarice' s apartment, he had passed in front of Crawford' s house but it was too late: lights were already on in what he had identified as the bathroom. Old Jackie would have a one day reprieve. Hannibal had no plan to kill him. Jack Crawford had been an adversary for too long, and a valuable one as well. But he would ensure the FBI guru would never be able to manipulate anybody again.
After all, he had well deserved his retirement. And a peaceful retirement as well, as he would have to renounce to both his eyes and his tongue. This tongue who had served so many lies to his Clarice, he would accommodate with a raisin sauce, following an old recipe of his. Of course, the eyes would go after, so that Jack could assist to the dinner.
Hannibal checked his equipment for the last time. He could definitely not rely on Crawford' s cooking material. It included medical instrumentation too and some anesthetic: despite all they could have written about him, Dr. Hannibal Lecter was not a savage.
Then he climbed up to his bedroom to have a little rest.
Clarice had arrived late in office. She went directly to Krantz office and explained him the situation. Crawford had already called her boss and it seemed he had told him exactly what he had said he would. But Clarice could never be sure: she found it difficult trusting Crawford again, after what she had lately discovered.
Clarice went down to her desk and met David, who started updating her on the last evolution of his investigations. They had made progress and had even arrested two more traffickers, whom they went to interrogate together. Clarice appreciated the fact that Dave did not ask her anything. He was treating her exactly as if she had never left the case. Working with him helped her setting apart the last events and relax a bit. She concentrated her mind on the job and left all the rest for later.
The afternoon went smooth. The end of her involvement in the Lecter case had removed a load from her conscience. Even if deep down inside she knew it was not resolving anything, she felt less guilty vs. the FBI for not releasing information ... and less guilty vs. Hannibal too.
She left the office early and went jogging for almost two hours. When she came back home, her whole body was aching but her mind was truly in peace. She took a hot shower and changed in comfortable woolen pajamas. Then she went to the kitchen and opened the fridge to see if she could afford a good dinner. She grinned: wouldn't be a gourmet meal tonight. For one instant, she was tempted by taking the phone and order a pizza, but then she changed her mind. She grabbed the few vegetables she had left and started preparing a salad. "Hannibal, you would be proud of me !" she thought. She froze. It had been a spontaneous thought. Was it possible that he was already so deep in her that she could not do the simplest things without thinking of what his reaction would be ? She sighed.
After dinner, she sat on her couch and switched on the TV. She zapped on a dozen channels but soon realized she was unable to concentrate on anything. She stopped on a musical channel, made herself more comfortable and closed her eyes.
Images of the previous night immediately invaded her mind. She could almost feel his skin and smell his scent. He had been so passionate and yet so tender with her, so attentive to her pleasure. No man had ever made love to her like that before. But she knew there was more to it. She knew it was not only the physical attraction. Hannibal Lecter was the first man she felt really herself with. She did not have to cheat or to pretend to be someone else. He understood her, sometimes better than herself. And he loved her, for what she was, not for what he wanted her to be.
But was she able to give this love back ?
She missed him. From that she was sure. At his very moment she wanted nothing more than to be with him, to talk to him, to listen to him, to feel the heat of his hands on her body. But could she love him for what he was ? Or could she love him in spite of what he was ? She was aware this was the most important love of her life and she did not want to cheat on it. She would decide to go for it only if she could be sure she was able to accept him fully and love him totally. The man and the cannibal. The beauty and the beast ...
She found herself back in Jack Crawford' s office the day he entrusted her with the mission of interviewing the famous psychopath. "Believe me, you don't want Hannibal Lecter inside your head." And if she did ? She let him in. Of course, she did it to save Catherine Martin, but was it the only reason ?
Then she saw officer Pembry when she met him in the Shelby County Courthouse in Memphis. He had been nice to her. She could not help the nausea when she thought of what was left of his face after Lecter had 'used' it. Pembry had not committed any crime. He was just doing his job. And even Mason Verger ... Verger was everything but a saint and deserved a punishment, but was Hannibal Lecter justice ? He had punished Verger, in the most cruel way, as he had punished Miggs. Sentenced to death for discourtesy ...
She never knew what Miggs was in for. He probably wasn't an innocent lamb either. But what about the two ambulance men and the man he killed in his escape ?
Hannibal Lecter had never hesitated eliminating anything he thought was an obstacle to his freedom. Not until that night in Chesapeake ... She was the obstacle then. He could have cut her hand or even killed her as easily as one kills a fly. But he didn't. He chopped off his own fingers rather than harm her. She saw the unimaginable pain on his face, and yet the intensity of his gaze when he stared at her just before going. There was no hate in his eyes. No anger either.
He was like these rabbits who nibble their own paw to get free from a trap. She knew he would always be on the run. She knew he would do it again. She knew it was a no return trip. Nobody could deny Hannibal Lecter his freedom with impunity. And he would never forgive anybody trying. Jack Crawford should have known that.
Jack ... Jack was in the way ... Clarice sat up. Crawford had tried to trap Lecter, and not in a fair way. Clarice remembered Hannibal' s eyes that Sunday when he had talked about his sister. He had scared her. It was not something he was likely to forgive easily. What did Hannibal said about Dubrowski and Sogliato ... "Think of them as messengers, messengers to the person responsible for all this" ... Crawford ! Shit !
Clarice stood up and ran to her bedroom to change. In less than five minutes she was in her car. She started the engine of the old Mustang and drove to Crawford' s house as fast as she could.
Clarice almost crashed into Crawford' s car. She jumped out of her car and ran to the door. Without thinking, she burst in the door and rushed in. She froze. They were in the dining room. Hannibal was turning his back to her. He had not turned back when she had entered, as if he had not heard her ... Or as if he was expecting her.
Jack Crawford was tied up on a chair on the other side of the table. He looked at her in disbelief, but recollected his senses rapidly. "Starling ! Your gun !". Clarice looked at Lecter. He hadn't said a word so far. He seemed busy preparing something on the table. He finally turned to her. His blue eyes locked to hers but he remained silent. He did not need to talk. There was so much in his look that any word would have sounded superfluous.
On his chair, Crawford was getting agitated. He was talking to her but she didn't get the words. In this very instant, Clarice got the answers to all her questions, to all her doubts. She loved him. Both the man and the animal. She could not approve of what he had done, but it did not change anything to the fact she loved him. She wanted him, and she was ready to give up on everything she ever believed in, if it was to be with him.
" - You don't have to be here, Clarice." Hannibal finally said. His voice was calm.
" - I'm here because I want to." She saw the sparkle in his eyes.
" - Good." he simply said. And then he turned back to what he was doing.
" - Starling ! What the hell are y..." Crawford' s face was red with rage.
" - With all due respect, Mr. Crawford, shut up. Hannibal, don't do it.
- Why, Clarice ?
- His death will not bring you anything but a hundred FBI agents on your tracks.
- Don't worry, old Jackie here will not die tonight. I have other plans for him."
Clarice got closer to the table.
" - Starling, what are you doing ? For Christ sake, wake up ! This is Hannibal Lecter, and you're an FBI agent !
- Not any more, Mr. Crawford. What are you going to do to him, Hannibal ?
- You're not gonna believe him ! Starling, he's already killed two men in this story. Do you think he would hesitate killing me and you ?
- He did not kill them."
Clarice was still staring at Hannibal. She stepped further towards him. She now was seeing the instruments on the table and started to have a better idea of what he had in mind.
" - Starling, he killed Dubrowski and Sogliato. Remember ! Whatever he told you ...
- He did not kill them. They are alive. I've seen them.
- You what ?
- I saw them."
Her last word seemed to stun Crawford for a while. She put her hand on Hannibal' s arm. His skin was cold and she saw a drop of sweat rolling from his forehead. But his eyes were as determined as they could be and his gestures were precise.
" - He's not worth it, Hannibal.
- There are things he should not have done, Clarice. Besides, he will never let us in peace.
- He will. Won't you, Mr. Crawford ?"
Crawford was speechless. He could not believe what he was seeing. But he understood this might be his only chance. He nodded.
" - And you believe him ?" Hannibal asked, amused. "After all the lies he gave you, you believe him, don't you ?
- Yes. I believe him. Because he knows this is his last chance. He understands that if he tries anything against us, it will be the end. Don't you, Jack ?"
Crawford nodded again. "I won't try anything." he whispered. Hannibal did not answer, but he went on manipulating the syringe of anesthetic. She put her hand on his left hand and hold it strongly. She felt the plastic of the prosthetic. She looked at him in the eyes.
"Hannibal, stop. If you love me, stop."
She felt him chill. Instinctively, she knew what he had in mind and she did not give him time to ask his question: "Yes. I will follow you anyway, whether you decide to go on with what you came here for, or you decide to spare him. I will follow you, because I love you."
Hannibal put the syringe on the table. He took a pen and a piece of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket and started writing something.
" - Jackie boy, you are a lucky man." he said. "Here is where you will find your two friends." He raised his face to Crawford. "I think you owe them an apology ... I suggest you respect the promise you just made to the lady, Jack.
- I will.
- Good. And don't you ever dare harassing Clarice again, or I swear I will find you."
Crawford nodded.
Hannibal took Clarice' s hand and they disappeared in the night.
Epilogue
The sun was bright and hot in the sicilian sky. They were having breakfast on the terrace of their room at the Baia Verde. The ionian see was of deep blue and the waves were bursting on the black volcanic rocks.
Clarice had never been in a more beautiful place. Hannibal was sitting in an armchair, reading the american newspaper the waiter had brought them. She went behind him and put her arms around his neck. She started to read the headlines over his shoulders. The whole page was celebrating special agent Jack Crawford who, thanks to his courage and his tenacity had rescued Jonathan Dubrowski and Frank Sogliato from the claws of Hannibal "The Cannibal" Lecter. The dangerous psychopath had managed to escape, but his hostages were safe.
The article was retracing Crawford' s brilliant career in the FBI, career that would soon end as he would retire in less than two months.
Clarice' s name was not mentioned.
Hannibal put his arm around Clarice' s waist and pulled her onto his knees. She chuckled. He brushed away a lock of hair that had fallen on her eyes.
" - So, Mrs. Edwards, what do you want to do today ?
- Umh ... I don't know, Mr. Edwards. What would you suggest ?"
He smiled and gently kissed her in the neck. "Well, I thought we could visit the bedroom. They say the view is fantastic from the bed ...". She smiled and curled up in his lap. "Whatever you say, Mr. Edwards."
That's it. Thanks for reading and all my ratitude to those whot took (or will take) the time to leave a review.
Absolut.