"Agent Sterling," Mitchell said, "as you know, Dr. Lector was apprehended by police in Rio several months ago. He arrived here ten days ago. He has been asking to see you."

"I understand," Sterling said. "May I see him?"

"In a moment. First, you need to understand that things are, well, a little different now. As you know, Bill Graham caught Lector in 1975. You met him in 1988. It's 1999 and well... Lector isn't as young as he used to be."

Sterling paused. "What do you mean?"

Mitchell sighed, and said, "Dr. Lector's had a stroke. A couple of them actually. Too much fatty food…"

Sterling said, "I don't understand..."

Mitchell said, "Perhaps its best just to explain the rules. Lector's in four point restraints. Don't touch them or open them; he might fall out of bed and hurt himself. Pass him only soft paper; no pens or pencils. His dominant hand is paralyzed and he can't write, so it just upsets him. Do not accept anything that he hands you; it'll probably be covered in drool.

"I'm going to show you why we insist on such measures," Mitchell said, "Several days ago, Lector complained of chest pains, so the nurse loosened his restraints to administer an electrocardiogram. When she did, he did this to her." Mitchell removed a dog-eared photograph from his jacket pocket and showed it to Sterling. She shuddered.

"Strange how dried blood looks brown, isn't it?" Sterling said quietly.

"That's not blood," Mitchell replied, "You're going to find that Hannibal Lector is not the man you once knew."

Chapter 2

"Hello, Barney," Sterling said.

"Hi, Agent Sterling," he replied, "Long time. He's at the end of the hall on the left. Dr. Mitchell told you not to touch the restraints?" Starling nodded. "Good. Remember: don't hand him any writing implements. He goes into a hissy fit, and, well, he throws bodily fluids at you that make old 'Multiple Miggs' look like Miss Manners."

"I understand," Clarice said, and Barney opened the door. She walked down the hall slowly, and turned to look into Lector's cell.

"Dr. Lector?" she said softly.

Lector slowly turned his head and looked at her, through her. Malevolence gleamed from his good eye. "Hello, Mommy," he said.

"Clarice," Sterling corrected, "Clarice Sterling."

"I understand, Mommy," Lector hissed from the left side of his mouth. "It's been a long time."

"I like your pictures," Sterling said, "Are those crayon scrawls?"

"No!" Lector said, "That's Funland at Burger King! And the other one is Chuck E. Cheese!"

"Dr. Lector," Starling began tentatively, "Director Crawford asked me to consult with you about a serial killer that we're hunting. He's killed seven women and left their bodies on hillsides. The latest was found just three days ago."

"I did it," Lector hissed.

"No you didn't. You were here three days ago."

"Yes I did," Lector whined, "I'm a killer. I'm a bad guy. Booga booga!"

"I know that with your expertise-"

"People don't taste like chicken, Mommy," Lector said mildly, "They taste like Spam."

Clarice sighed, understanding that she would get nowhere unless Lector felt like playing the old game. "I'll be back, Dr. Lector," she said, "If you cooperate with our investigation, perhaps I can arrange for your transfer to a facility with a view."

Lector sneered with half his face. "I don't want a view, Mommy. I want to watch The Price is Right."

Clarice turned to go. Halfway down the hallway, she heard Lector howl, "Agent Sterling! Agent Sterling!" She turned and ran back down the hall.

Lector said, "Can you change my diaper? I'm getting prickly heat."

Main Archive Table of Contents

June, 1999 Issue Table of Contents

Elvis... Pokémon   Losers With Guns   Holy Trinity

Moon Walk

Undergarments For Alcoholics   Trenchcoat Mafia   Tips For Living   Silence of The Lambs II