Chapter Text
Carmen thought about Will Graham more than she would care to admit to anyone. It was part of the reason why she was here. His wasn't the first pitiful story she crossed. She read plenty of crime blogs for inspiration, and had unearthed plenty of unjust prosecutions. There was one blaring flaw in the justice system; innocent people are far easier caught than professional criminals.
But there was something about Will Graham's story that—captivated her. In a way that only fiction had ever done before. It wasn't the writing, she found Freddie Lound's work irritating at best. After much introspection, she determined that it was the man. The victim. The innocent. The protagonist.
While everyone who knew Carmen knew her to be rash, nothing else had ever compelled her to pick up everything and move somewhere she'd never even been. Will's story had more than captivated her, it had enslaved her, until the point of obsession. Until the point where Carmen felt as though she couldn't be happy unless she was there, rewriting it.
Today she started the plan. It had all been preparation up to this point. Phone calls and cordiality and politely asking for permission. Today she made her last call.
"Hello, is this Freddie Lounds?"
Carmen set the meeting place at a café fifteen miles from Doctor Lecter's office. The two people she was about to meet with were major players, he would notice if they went missing.
She dressed more casually than she had for the park that day, wearing a white tank top, a large knit cardigan, riding pants, and boots. She pulled her car up to the curb behind the café, and got out, scanning the parking lot for the silver escalade and navy blue Mercedes that assured her both people were here.
The bell above the door rang as she stepped through, and immediate warmth flooded through her.
At a booth in the far back of the café, was a scene she felt a little proud of constructing. Alana Bloom and Freddie Lounds, sitting across from each other. Of course, they both looked absolutely miserable, and Carmen knew things would get worse before they got better, but it was imperative that they did get better eventually, so she pulled a chair up next to the booth and sat down.
"We have a lot to talk about." Alana glared at Carmen.
"I agreed to meet you. Not her." Freddie snorted.
"It's not like I knew about this little arrangement either. I'm only here because—" Carmen turned to Alana, looking her directly in the eyes.
"Freddie is only here because I blackmailed her. I hope you'll both try and work together here. I need both of you desperately if this is going to work." Alana stuck her tongue in her cheek and crossed her arms, but remained in silent agreement.
"If what is going to work?", Freddie snapped. Carmen reached into her purse and slid a folder towards her.
"I have several copies of that, and before you take any photos, I'd like to remind you of your motivation for being here." Freddie opened the folder and stared for a moment before slamming it shut.
"Is this a joke? You think this will hold up in court?"
"It won't without the physical evidence to prove it's not doctored."
"You mean, these are photos of the actual evidence? How'd you get access to that?"
"Jack has a soft spot for writers." Freddie glanced at her quizzically. "Novelists. Journalists, on the other hand—," Carmen trailed off. Freddie opened the folder again and flipped through it examining each page carefully.
"So what are you trying to do here? And what do you need us for?"
"I'm trying to get Will Graham acquitted, and Hannibal Lecter behind bars. I need you, Freddie, to obtain some more physical evidence for me, from Doctor Lecter himself. And Alana, I figured you would be Will's best ally in this situation. You also happen to know quite a bit more about everyone involved in this than I do. And due to your high standing in the field of psychology, I figure you'll know what levers to pull, what strings to snap, what gears need to be blocked off. Both of you are experts at what you do, and quite simply, I require both of your expertise. Are you open to working with me to achieve this goal?" Freddie smirked.
"What's in this for me?"
"You mean besides me graciously withholding the information I have on you from the press?" Her expression soured.
"I'd be willing to do a collaboration with you. Up to twenty five pages, as long as it gains my approval, I'll put my name next to yours. I won't forget you if you help me, and as I'm sure you know, with my connections, I could make your career. However, if you go behind my back, I'll have tattle crime shut down, and I'll make sure no self-respecting or otherwise publication will publish one word you write. So, Freddie, do we have a deal?"
"You're not giving much of a choice."
"But aren't you the least bit curious to see how this could turn out? If your articles are of any indication, you're nearly as interested in Will Graham as I am. Wouldn't you like to know who really put all those bodies there? Because I can tell you this. If you walk out right now, I won't stop you. But you'll never know how the story ends. Even if you don't particularly like writing the truth, wouldn't you like to know it?"
She scowled for a moment, before the corners of her mouth twisted up into a smile.
"I don't see how I could refuse. You know, I would have settled for a few autographs and a mention in the acknowledgements of this new book you're writing."
"I know. But you'll be going face-to-face with Doctor Lecter . If my theory is correct, and I couldn't be more sure that it is, then that would mean endangering your life. If things were to go horribly wrong, I'd have to live with the guilt of someone dying for a few of my autographs."
This seemed to silence Freddie, at least for the moment. Carmen turned to Alana.
"Is there anything in particular you'd like to gain from this arrangement?" Alana smirked.
"I'd like to get my house back from Will's dogs. They're tearing up my furniture." Her expression turned solemn.
"To be honest, after you brought it to my attention, I've started doubting the relationship I have with Doctor Lecter. I want to know the truth, also. And if Will is innocent, then there's no reason for him to waste in that god awful institution with Frederick Chilton." Carmen nodded, and Alana seemed to relax, redirecting her gaze towards her hands.
"So, you agree."
"I'll do anything you ask—of the legal variety. I'm not willing to commit crimes." Carmen smiled.
"That's quite alright. We have Freddie for that." There was a short silence, and Carmen continued.
"I'll be keeping in contact with both of you. It's important that we meet in private locations, a good distance from the precinct or Doctor Lecter's office. If either of you have questions, feel free to contact me." Freddie slid the packet into her purse, and stood, extending a hand for Carmen to shake.
"It was good meeting you, Carmen Banks." Carmen hesitated for a long moment before meeting Freddie's hand with hers.
"You as well. I'll see you soon." Freddie left the café, the bell ringing behind her. Alana stood and gathered her purse.
"I read the manuscript, Carmen. It's brilliant, but more importantly, it erased any doubts I may have had about your intentions for Will. I can be defensive of him at times, but that's only because there was no one else left to defend him. Now you're here, and honestly, I feel as though I have someone else to share the weight with." Carmen kept her eyes trained on the table, even as Alana stood.
"Alana, I'll be seeing Will tomorrow, if there are any questions you'd like me to ask him." She swung the bag over her shoulder.
"I can't think of anything at the moment. How does he seem?"
"He's hanging on. Doctor Chilton is getting to him, slowly. But he's strong. Perhaps stronger than any of us give him credit for. I've told him his dogs are alright, and that you're keeping up with them. He seemed relieved."
"That's good. Although honestly, I am a little overwhelmed. I didn't exactly buy my house with the prospect of seven dogs in mind." She smiled tightly.
"If this all goes to plan, he'll be home in weeks."
"I truly hope it does."