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"Ms. Mapp, did you ever notice any signs from your colleague that her relationship with Hannibal Lecter went beyond business interests?" Crawford leaned casually with his hip against the desk, arms crossed in front of his chest. Files and documents piled up on the shelf behind him and yet he could only pay attention to one thing: The mysterious disappearance of Clarice M. Starling.
His eyes blazed with an uncontrolled fire that almost engulfed her. The anger that overwhelmed him was at odds with his otherwise composed demeanor. Crawford had always been an enigma to Ardelia Mapp. The man hid behind a façade and few, including Clarice Starling, had been able to make it crumble. Now, however, he dropped his mask and revealed his true nature. He was worried, she knew that, he was just as worried about her best friend as she was and he spared no means to free the cunning agent from the monster's clutches.
Ardelia sat opposite Crawford, her hands folded carefully in her lap. Somehow she had to try to distract herself from the constant trembling of her fingers. Worrying about Clarice was driving her completely mad.
She tilted her head to one side and pretended to think.
"Agent Starling hasn't been the same ever since she returned from the first interrogation with Lecter. It's hard to pin it down to one particular action of hers. She was under tension, often lost in thought and almost more concerned with Lecter's background than the case file of the wanted killer. She couldn't deny that she was fascinated by him. Still, I don't dare to say to what extent she would have had feelings for him at the time.” There was something strange about her voice. It sounded mechanical, dull. If a lie detector were to examine the truth of her words, it would not be able to filter out the slightest hint of deceit in the subtle nuances of her undertone.
“I still refuse to believe... What if he drugged her to break her will? Lecter is not only unpredictable, but also known for enjoying to toy with his victim’s minds. To be more precise, it was his favourite waste of time”, Crawford replied and let out a deep sigh.
“It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t sent her down to the dungeon to interrogate him in those days, he’d never have met her in his life. I did this to her. I sent her to the lion’s cage.”
Discouraged, he slumped his shoulders and buried his face in his hands. Suddenly he looked years older, as frail as an alabaster statue. If you put just one more weight on him, he would collapse under the burden.
Ardelia could hardly bear the sight. This man, Crawford, had always been the one she had looked up to when she was a trainee. Now it felt like he was a hair's breadth away from putting a bullet in his own head. She had to find the right words to keep him sane. Though, thinking carefully about it, he sorta had a point. Making Clarice a literal bait to get the cannibalistic psychiatrist to share his wisdom with the FBI was a tightrope walk. He put a lot at stake.
"It was the greatest honor for Starling to take on this task. To be chosen to plunge headlong into the dark abysses of the Doctor. Looking back, you may think you doomed her, but for my friend it was the initiative to make more of herself."
"But at what cost, Ms. Mapp?”
“You see, Starling loved the FBI... for a long time. She sacrificed a lot for it. Not even a handful of our colleagues were willing to do that. She... has given more to her country than it would ever give back to her”, Ardelia asserted softly, trying to put some sense into her words. Yet, she had to fight the trembling of her lips. “Starling is headstrong when it counts. If she pursues a plan, she won't be dissuaded for anything in the world. And as for Lecter... He had a deep respect for her. I doubt he'd ever dare to do anything against her will. It would go against his own principles, you see. Lecter may be a creature for which there can't possibly be a name, but his self-respect would never have allowed him to harm a hair on her head.”
“But that still doesn't give us a coherent explanation as to why she should return his perverse feelings for her.” Crawford pushed himself off the edge of the desk and walked in circles, hands on his hips. Hard lines appeared on his forehead. His clouded eyes freckled with obsidian shut close for a brief moment.
“Starling is no ordinary woman, she never was. That's probably why she appealed to him”, Ardelia reasoned in a lowered voice, casting her view out of the window. Kissed by a stormy breeze, the oak trees dropped their rust-red leaves and became bare, the sky was a bleak gray and a blanket of fog descended over Quantico. It was autumn.
Perhaps, deep down Clarice was flattered by the monster’s attention and longed for their meetings just as much as he did because for once in her life, she had felt actually understood. Who knew?
Shouldn't you of all people understand Lecter's situation, sir? She kept that twistful thought to herself. Whether or not Crawford had had a thing for Starling was not of any importance at the moment. What mattered was doing everything in her power to have her friend back alive and unharmed.
"I'll examine her apartment again tomorrow and check for any indication of a possible whereabouts. Now would you excuse me, Mr. Crawford? An urgent appointment forces me to leave”, Ardelia stated and got up from her wooden chair. Her legs had almost fallen asleep from sitting for so long.
Crawford nodded, but didn’t return her gaze. His atypical behavior made her more suspicious by the minute.
“Of course. Thank you for taking the time. Have a safe way back home.”
Ardelia hesistated briefly, her eyes narrowed. “Goodbye, Sir.”
“Goodbye, Ms Mapp. And please, take care.”
Pretending to have an appointment seemed a good idea to Ardelia at that time. Once she crossed the doorstep out of Crawfords bureau, she felt her pulse calm down again and took a deep breathe telling herself to get it together. His behaviour had set her off in a way she could not put into words. Usually, her boss was a decent man respected by each and everyone for having a clear mind and a quiet spirit. His unmeasured devotion for Clarice, however, had him completely go crazy. When she had that car accident, it was him to bring her flowers to her hospital bed. The protective instincts for her exceeded purely paternal interests, that Ardelia was certain of.
It was late afternoon when she reached the avenue to the quarter where she and Clarice used to share an apartment before they parted ways some time ago. Every now and then, Ardelia still mourned what had become of their friendship although she had accustomed to her new living conditions in that small terraced house at the outskirts by now. For some unknown reason, she had kept the spare key for the front door. Perhaps a voice had already whispered to her that Clarice would one day be in danger.
The door lock opened with a rusty clang and the door swung open, inviting her to the place she once called her home. Yet, any item she passed seemed unfamiliar. Ardelia was greeted by an awkward silence that gave her goosebumps. Clarice always had a reduced and plain style of living, but what Ardelia had to face now was truly odd: The room created the image as if her former friend had toyed with the idea of moving out sooner or later. The sight that presented itself to her was that of a ghostly emptiness. Of course, there was still some furniture around, such as an armchair and a wardrobe, but there was no trace of any personal furnishings. What are you up to, Clarice? Providing your cannibal lover your own flesh and blood? That can’t be what you want, can it? How does it feel being used, hm? Don’t you see you are nothing but a means to an end for him? Oh Clarice.
Shaking her head in disbelief, she let out a hollow sigh and opened the top drawer of a cupboard. Just like she expected, there was barely anything to be found: A few blank pieces of writing paper and ballpoint pens. But what if... Ardelia could hardly allow herself to take the thought to its conclusion. She rummaged through the layers of paper in search of evidence that might shed light on how her relationship with Lecter had developed. All she found that might be of any help was an envelope made of marbled, high-quality paper without signature of consignor and consignee, though. Unashamedly, she opened it and let her eyes wander over the letter's header. Her suspicions were confirmed, Clarice indeed adressed Lecter there. Ardelia swallowed the lump in her throat. Whatever awaited her in that letter, she did not feel prepared for it. Breathing out, she took in the first line and read paragraph after paragraph with a trembling heart.
“Dear Doctor Lecter, while I’m writing to you all I can think of is where you might have gone into hiding. It’s been almost six years now since we had our final encounter in Memphis, yet my head keeps spinning like a record on end. I know perfectly well you won’t ever read those lines, Doctor. But ever since you penetrated my mind in Baltimore, I am followed by your presence every step I take. In fact, I can feel your eyes resting on my body at this very moment as if you were closer than is good for me. Strange, isn’t it? It’s like you left an invisible mark on me when our fingers touched. Sometimes I can hear your voice like an echo in my head. Either way, do you remember the last thing you asked me? You begged me to let you know when those lambs finally stopped screaming. That was your wording, wasn’t it?”
The letter did not give any more insight into Clarice’s thoughts. By all indications, she had never finished writing it. However, Ardelia didn't need to find out more to decipher the words. Her former room mate had been stuck in a twisted relationship with that guy. Back then, when they had still lived together, Clarice had used the investigations as an excuse for her chats with Lecter, although in truth she had probably had quite different reasons for paying him a visit. Ardelia doubted there was a name for that thing between them. At any rate, one could hardly call it a romance.
With a sigh, she put the letter back in the drawer and left the room. Having an uneasy feeling in her stomach, she went upstairs and entered her former friend's bedroom. The disturbing rumor Krendler had spread echoed in her head. Ardelia pressed her lips together as her eyes explored every corner of the room. A muscle in her jaw twitched. The bare thought of Clarice fucking this monster in here gave her goosebumps. Clarice had been unexperienced with men in general. Just like all female students in the academy, she had admired Brigham and had tried to impress him with a particularly sophisticated performance every once in a while. Aside from flirting with the shooting instructor, she hadn’t shown any interest in men ever. The fact that she was now breaking new ground with an exceptional specimen of a man seemed suspicious to Ardelia. Especially as he was clearly older than Clarice, there was a chance that he would put her needs behind his own and literally enjoy the way she submitted to him. Was he the type of lover to bite his girl’s neck when she came for him? Did his jaw tease her tickling skin while making love to her? If Krendler was telling the truth, then they had made out like untamed animals in that bed. Shuddering, she tried to banish those images from her mind.
After she remembered what she was actually here for, she rummaged through the small chest of drawers by the bed, but found nothing apart from handkerchiefs and a simple necklace with an emerald. If the two had indeed planned their escape together for a long time, they had been smart enough not to leave any clues as to where they were running off. This fact did not surprise Ardelia at all. There had already been no trace of Lecter after he had broken out from the cage in Memphis and Clarice had learned to put herself in the mindset of a criminal. Together they were a duet that could turn the world upside down if only they wanted to.
Gradually, Ardelia was no longer sure whether she was afraid for or of her former roommate. Had she ever really known Clarice, or just the colorless semblance of the woman she had pretended to be? Involuntarily, she began to question everything she had ever thought she knew about Clarice. A nameless pain rose to her chest, growing ever tighter.
She swallowed. Once upon a time, Clarice had been everything to her. Not only her classmate or the person she shared her apartment with, but also her best friend... and more, even. Not that Ardelia had ever told her friend that she had deeper feelings for her as she had always tried not to stare at her while dressing up in her pyjamas or admire Clarice’s well-toned physique. Unfortunately, Ardelia used to seek out things to covet that she could not have. Clarice could never have reciprocated feelings of this kind, no matter how close they had been at the time. If any, Ardelia had probably taken the place of a sister she had never had.
Ardelia shook her head in disbelief. How stupid of her to think that for once in her life she’d find someone to feel the same savage love for her like Clarice apparently did for Lecter.
She took another half hour to check the kitchen for clues, but was unable to find anything worth mentioning here either. Eventually, she took the letter written to Lecter. No matter what had happened between her and Clarice, handing this letter over to Crawford felt like turning Clarice in. She wasn't in a position to do that. So she folded it up, put it in her jacket pocket and decided to burn it.
As she drove to Quantico, she turned up the volume on the radio to drown out her noisy thoughts and hummed along with the music.
“Nothing”, Crawford repeated her words with a heavy tongue. Apparently, he had drunk a little too much wine in the past few hours. Showing up at his workplace in such a state was not like him.
“She’s a smart woman”, Ardelia answered, shrugging her shoulders. “He fleed from a high-security wing. I can’t say I’m surprised.”
“I’m not either.” Crawford’s voice was as cold and sharp as steel. “May I speak frankly with you, Ms Mapp?”
Ardelia nodded, leaning back in her seat.
“I'm still clinging to the hope that Starling has a firm intention. That she will lead us to him and that her sacrifice was not in vain”, Crawford muttered, his gaze fixed on her without blinking. He took another sip of wine. “She is clever, cunning and perhaps a touch too heroic. Lecter was enchanted by her nature right from the start. She didn't have to let him fuck her to lure him in. But she did, for whatever reason. I want to believe that she hasn't forgotten who she is and that she's only doing all this to break him. To hurt him.”
Ardelia remained silent. Whatever he was telling himself seemed like a hopeless attempt to hold on to the belief that Clarice would return and get her job back at the FBI.
“How can you be so sure of that? Clarice was humiliated by the FBI. What reason would she possibly have to continue to serve the people who kicked her out?”
“She served the idea of generosity.”
“With that you have your answer, don’t you?”, Ardelia remarked and lifted her right brow, a challenging sparkle in her eyes.
“Would you explain that further, please?”
“I’m sorry, Sir. Work is calling. I have a new case to deal with. For now, this case will remain open, whether you like it or not.”
All at once, he gripped her wrist. Her head jerked up and their eyes met. With a pounding heart, she backed away from him as he leaned in towards her.
“Starling is not just some agent like any other, Ms Mapp. She means something to me. I can’t bear the thought of losing her.”
Do you really think she fills the gap your deceased wife left in you? That’s foolish. Is this what you have become? An old fool?
His grip loosened as he seemed to realize that he had crossed a line. She only forgave him because she was aware that he was not in control of his senses at the moment. A light mark was visible on her skin where he had ruthlessly grabbed her. For a moment, she was lost for words. So far, her boss had never become violent towards her, let alone other colleagues.
“I know”, Ardelia replied quietly, working through what had just happened. “She meant the world to me as well. But if she indeed has chosen this fate on her own – allow me this assumption – I will let go of her once and for all. As you should, too, by the way. If I were you, I would go home now and sleep it off. Then you'll have a clear view of things again.”
With that, she took another step towards the door. Her hand was still shaking. „See you soon, Mr Crawford.“