The Silence of the Lambs - Страница 30

She dressed quickly. Slacks, blouse, and a light sweater vest, the snub-nosed revolver tucked tight against her ribs in the pancake holster, the speedloader straddling her belt on the other side. Her blazer needed a little work. A seam in the lining was fraying over the speedloader. She was determined to be busy, be busy, until she cooled off. She got the motel's little paper sewing kit and tacked the lining down. Some agents sewed washers into the tail of the jacket so it would swing away cleanly, she'd have to do that…

Crawford was knocking on the door.

CHAPTER 31

In Crawford's experience, anger made women look tacky. Rage made their hair stick out behind and played hell with their color and they forgot to zip. Any unattractive feature was magnified. Starling looked herself when she opened the door of her motel room, but she was mad all right.

Crawford knew he might learn a large new truth about her now.

Fragrance of soap and steamy air puffed at him as she stood in the doorway The covers on the bed behind her had been pulled up over the pillow.

"What do you say, Starling?"

"I say God dammit, Mr. Crawford, what do you say?"

He beckoned with his head. "Drugstore's open on the corner already. We'll get some coffee."

It was a mild morning for February. The sun, still low in the east, shined red on the front of the asylum as they walked past. Jeff trailed them slowly in the van, the radios crackling. Once he handed a phone out the window to Crawford for a brief conversation.

"Can I file obstruction of justice on Chilton?"

Starling was walking slightly ahead. Crawford could see her jaw muscles bunch after she asked.

"No, it wouldn't stick."

"What if he's wasted her, what if Catherine dies because of him? I really want to get in his face… Let me stay with this, Mr. Crawford. Don't send me back to school."

"Two things. If I keep you, it won't be to get in Chilton's face, that comes later. Second, if I keep you much longer, you'll be recycled. Cost you some months. The Academy cuts nobody any slack. I can guarantee you get back in, but that's all-- there'll be a place for you, I can tell you that."

She leaned her head far back, then put it down again, walking. "Maybe this isn't a polite question to ask the boss, but are you in the glue? Can Senator Martin do anything to you?"

"Starling, I have to retire in two years. If I find Jimmy Hoffa and the Tylenol killer I still have to hang it up. It's not a consideration."

Crawford, ever wary of desire, knew how badly he wanted to be wise. He knew that a middle-aged man can be so desperate for wisdom he may try to make some up, and how deadly that can be to a youngster who believes him. So he spoke carefully, and only of things he knew.

What Crawford told her on that mean street in Baltimore he had learned in a succession of freezing dawns in Korea, in a war before she was born. He left the Korea part out, since he didn't need it for authority.

"This is the hardest time, Starling. Use this time and it'll temper you. Now's the hardest test-- not letting rage and frustration keep you from thinking. It's the core of whether you can command or not. Waste and stupidity get you the worst. Chilton's a God damned fool and he may have cost Catherine Martin her life. But maybe not. We're her chance. Starling, how cold is liquid nitrogen in the lab?"

"What? Ah, liquid nitrogen… minus two hundred degrees Centigrade, about. It boils at a little more than that."

"Did you ever freeze stuff with it?"

"Sure."

"I want you to freeze something now. Freeze the business with Chilton. Keep the information you got from Lecter and freeze the feelings. I want you to keep your eyes on the prize, Starling. That's all that matters. You worked for some information, paid for it, got it, now we'll use it. It's just as good-- or as worthless-- as it was before Chilton messed in this. We just won't get any more from Lecter, probably. Take the knowledge of Buffalo Bill you got from Lecter and keep it. Freeze the rest. The waste, the loss, your anger, Chilton. Freeze it. When we have time, we'll kick Chilton's butt up between his shoulder blades. Freeze it now and slide it aside. So you can see past it to the prize, Starling. Catherine Martin's life. And Buffalo Bill's hide on the barn door. Keep your eyes on the prize. If you can do that, I need you."

"To work with the medical records?"

They were in front of the drugstore now.

"Not unless the clinics stonewall us and we have to take the records. I want you in Memphis. We have to hope Lecter tells Senator Martin something useful. But I want you to be close by, just in case-- if he gets tired of toying with her, maybe he'll talk to you. In the meantime, I want you to try to get a feel for Catherine, how Bill might have spotted her. You're not a lot older than Catherine, and her friends might tell you things they wouldn't tell somebody that looks more like a cop.

"We've still got the other things going. Interpol's working on identifying Klaus. With an ID on Klaus we can take, a look at his associates in Europe and in California where he had his romance with Benjamin Raspail. I'm going to the University of Minnesota-- we got off on the wrong foot up there-- and I'll be in Washington tonight. I'll get the coffee now. Whistle up Jeff and the van. You're on a plane in forty minutes."

The red sun had reached three-quarters of the way down the telephone poles. The sidewalks were still violet. Starling could reach up into the light as she waved for Jeff.

She felt lighter, better. Crawford really was very good. She knew that his little nitrogen question was a nod to her forensic background, meant to please her and to trigger ingrained habits of disciplined thinking. She wondered if men actually regard that kind of manipulation as subtle. Curious how things can work on you even when you recognize them. Curious how the gift of leadership is often a coarse gift.

Across the street, a figure coming down the steps of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. It was Barney, looking even larger in his lumber jacket. He was carrying his lunchpail.

Starling mouthed "Five minutes" to Jeff waiting in the van. She caught Barney as he was unlocking his old Studebaker.

"Barney."

He turned to face her, expressionless. His eyes may have been a bit wider than usual. He had his weight on both feet.

"Did Dr. Chilton tell you you'd be all right from this?"

"What else would he tell me?"

"You believe it?"

The corner of his mouth turned down. He didn't say yes or no.

"I want you to do something for me. I want you to do it now, with no questions. I'll ask you nicely-- we'll start with that. What's left in Lecter's cell?"

"A couple of books-- Joy of Cooking, medical journals. They took his court papers."

"The stuff on the walls, the drawings?"

"It's still there."

"I want it all and I'm in a hell of a hurry."

He considered her for a second. "Hold on," he said and trotted back up the steps, lightly for such a big man.

Crawford was waiting for her in the van when Barney came back out with rolled drawings and the papers and books in a shopping bag.

"You sure I knew the bug was in that desk I brought you?" Barney said as handed her the stuff.

"I have to give that some thought. Here's a pen, write your phone numbers on the bag. Barney, you think they can handle Dr. Lecter?"

"I got my doubts and I said so to Dr. Chilton. Remember I told you that, in case it slips his mind. You're all right, Officer Starling. Listen, when you get Buffalo Bill?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't bring him to me just because I got a vacancy, all right?" He smiled. Barney had little baby teeth.

Starling grinned at him in spite of herself. She flapped a wave back over her shoulder as she ran to the van.

Crawford was pleased.

CHAPTER 32

The Grumman Gulfstream carrying Dr. Hannibal Lecter touched down in Memphis with two puffs of blue tire smoke. Following directions from the tower, it taxied fast toward the Air National Guard hangars, away from the passenger terminal. An Emergency Service ambulance and a limousine waited inside the first hangar.

Senator Ruth Martin watched through the smoked glass of the limousine as the state troopers rolled Dr. Lecter out of the airplane. She wanted to run up to the bound and masked figure and tear the information out of him, but she was smarter than that.

Senator Martin's telephone beeped. Her assistant, Brian Gossage, reached it from the jump seat.

"It's the FBI-- Jack Crawford," Gossage said.

Senator Martin held out her hand for the phone without taking her eyes off Dr. Lecter.

"Why didn't you tell me about Dr. Lecter, Mr. Crawford?"

"I was afraid you'd do just what you're doing, Senator."

"I'm not fighting you, Mr. Crawford. If you fight me, you'll be sorry."

"Where's Lecter now?"

"I'm looking at him."

"Can he hear you?"

"No."

"Senator Martin, listen to me. You want to make personal guarantees to Lecter-- all right, fine. But do this for me. Let Dr: Alan Bloom brief you before you go up against Lecter. Bloom can help you, believe me."

"I've got professional advice."

"Better than Chilton, I hope."

Dr. Chilton vas pecking on the window of the limousine. Senator Martin sent Bean Gossage out to take care of him.

"Infighting wastes time, Mr. Crawford. You sent a green recruit to Lecter with a phony offer. I can do better than that. Dr. Chilton says Lecter's capable of responding to a straight offer and I'm giving him one-- no red tape, no personalities, no questions of credit. If we get Catherine back safe, everybody smells like a rose, you included. If she… dies, I don't give a God damn about excuses."