Chapter 4 third chapter

Dr. Lecter's cell was far away from other cells, just across the hall from a small room.It is also different in other ways.The front is a palisade wall, but inside the wall there is also a barrier, and the distance between the two walls is beyond human reach.The second barrier is a strong, strong nylon mesh stretched from floor to ceiling and pulled from wall to wall.Behind the net, Starling saw a table nailed to the floor, piled high with books and papers.There was also an upright chair, also nailed to the floor. Dr. Hannibal Lecter reclined on the bunk by himself, flipping through the Italian edition of Vogue.He held the disassembled papers in his right hand, and put them one by one with his left hand.Dr. Lecter has six fingers on his left hand.

Clarice Starling stopped not far from the fence, about the length of a small hallway. "Dr. Lecter." Her voice sounded normal to her. He stopped reading the paint and raised his head. At this moment, she suddenly felt that his eyes staring at her could make a low voice, but all she heard was her own blood flowing. "My name is Clarice Starling. Can I talk to you?" Her tone was cold, polite and reserved. Dr. Lecter put a finger on his pursed lips, thought for a while, then stood up leisurely, walked calmly to the front of the cage where he was kept, and stopped at the place where the nylon net was not visible. Looking at the net, it seems that the distance has already been chosen.

She saw that he was short, with oily skin and a wire-like strength in his arms and arms, just like her own. "Good morning," he said, as if opening the door for her.The educated voice is a little hoarse, like the scraping sound of metal, which may be because it has not been used for a long time. " Dr. Lecter's eyes are maroon, reflecting red dots.Sometimes the point of light looked like a spark, flickering in the center of his eye.His eyes were fixed on Starling's whole body. She moved a little closer to the fence, the hair on her forearm bristling against her sleeve.

"Doctor, we have encountered a problem in psychoanalysis, and I would like your help." "'We' means the Behavioral Sciences Department at Quintico. I assume you're one of Jack Crawford's." "Yes, that's right." "Can I see your ID?" She hadn't expected it. "I've already shown it in the...office." "You mean you showed it to Frederick Chilton, the Doctor?" "Yes." "Have you seen his papers?" "No." "I can tell you that people in academia don't read too much. Have you met Ellen? He

Isn't it very flattering?Which of the two would you rather talk to? " "Generally speaking, I would say it's still Ai Lun." "You might be a reporter, and Chilton got paid to let you in. I think I'm entitled Take a look at your credentials. " "Okay." She held up the embossed ID card. "I can't see it so far away, please send it in." "I can not." "Because it's hard?" "yes." "Ask Barney." The orderly approached, and he considered it. "Dr. Lecter, I'm sending this card in, but if you don't return it when I ask for it—it takes all the men to tie you up—then I'm not happy. You make me unhappy, You'll have to stay tied up like that until I get better with you. Food delivered through the pipes, pants changed twice a day for the sake of respectability - all of this is out of your mind. I'll hold your mail for a week too No. Do you understand?"

"Of course, Barney." The ID card was rolled in on a plate, and Dr. Lecter picked it up and held it up to the light. "Intern? It says 'Intern' Jack Crawford sent an intern to talk to me?" He patted his ID card on his small white teeth, and sniffed it. "Dr. Lecter," Barney said. "Of course." He put the ID back on the tray, and Barney pulled the tray out. "I'm still in training, that's all," Starling said, "but we're not talking about the FBI, we're talking about psychology, and you can decide for yourself whether I'm qualified for what we're talking about ?,,

"Yeah—" Dr. Lecter said, "actually . "Dr. Chilton didn't mention anything to me about the chair." "Where's your manners, Barney?" "Would you like a chair?" Barney asked her, "we could have one too, but he's never—well, nobody usually does." Long. "I'll take one, thanks," Starling said. Barney fetched a folding chair from the locked cabin across the hall, unfolded it, and left. "Okay," Lecter said, sitting leaning against his desk, facing her, "what did Miggs say to you?" "Who?"

"Matipole Miggs, the one in the cell over there. He hissed at you, what did you say?" "I can smell your body," he said. "Understood. I can't smell it. You use Eveyen body lotion, and sometimes Moller el du Tempe, but not today. You certainly didn't use perfume today. You're the one with Miggs. how to think?" "He's hostile to people for reasons I don't know. It's bad. He hates people and people hate him. It's a vicious cycle." "Do you hate him?" "I'm sorry he's out of his mind, and besides that. How did you know about the perfume?"

"A smell came out of your bag when you got your ID just now. Your bag is beautiful." "You brought your best bag, didn't you?" "Yes." It was true.She saved up for this first-class day bag, the best thing she ever owned. "Much better than your shoes." "Maybe the shoes will be ready soon." "I believe." "Doctor, did you draw those pictures on the wall?" "Do you think I sent a decorator in to get it done?" "Is that picture above the sink a painting of a European city?" "That's Florence. Here's Palazzo Viccio and the Cathedral, seen from the Belvedere."

"Draw it from memory? All the details?" "Officer Starling, I can't see the outside scene, I can only rely on memory." "The other one is the Crucifixion? The cross in the middle is empty." "That's Golgotha, where Jesus was crucified, and his body has been removed from the cross. Stuff painted with crayons and magic pens on newspapers sold by peddlers. Such is the case with thieves, promise him As soon as the Passover lamb is taken away from heaven, that's what he really gets." "What's the end?" "Of course the leg was broken, as was his fellow mocker of Christ. Don't you know anything about the Gospel of John? Then look at Duccio's painting of Jesus crucified. The crucifixion is very accurate. How is Will Graham? How does he look now?"

"I don't know Will Graham." "You know who he is. Jack Crawford's doorman, your ex. What does his face look like now?" "I've never seen him." "It's called 'the same old scribbles,' Officer Starling. You don't mind that?" After a moment of silence she went straight to the point. "I'm better off than you: here's a couple of clichés we can touch on. I've brought—" "No, no, that's not right, it's stupid. Don't use a punchline when someone's talking non-stop. Listen, answering when you understand a punch line will make the person you're talking to hurry off. , it's out of touch, it's not good for the atmosphere of the conversation. We can continue talking, relying on the atmosphere. You behaved quite well just now, polite and willing to obey the rules. Although Miggs embarrasses you, you still said it To be honest, this built my trust in you. But then you came here non-stop, doing such a clumsy questionnaire. This is not acceptable." "Dr. Lecter, you are an experienced clinical psychiatrist, do you think I am so stupid, trying to set up some kind of trap in the atmosphere for you to fall into? Trust me. I am here to ask you to answer this questionnaire , it's up to you whether you like it or not. Wouldn't it be okay to have a look?" "Officer Starling, have you read any Behavioral Sciences papers lately?" "Read." "I've read it too. The FBI is stupid for refusing to send me the Law Enforcement Bulletin, but I got it from second-hand dealers, and I got news from John Jay and psychiatry. ...they divide serial murderers into two groups—organized and unorganized. What do you think?" "That's the basic idea, they obviously—" "Oversimplified, you want to say that word. Actually most of psychology is very naive, Officer Starling, the kind used by the Behavioral Sciences Department is at the level of phrenology. Psychology can't get much in the beginning Very good people. If you go to the psychology department of any university and look at the teachers and students there, they are all crappy amateurs, and there are some people who lack personality and are also amateurs. It is rare to be the elite of the school. What is organized, what is not organized—, that kind of thinking is really fed through the ass." "How do you change the method of division?" "I won't change it." "Speaking of publications, I read what you wrote about surgery addiction and left face showing, right face showing." "Yes, the writing is first-rate," said Dr. Lecter. "That's what I thought, and so did Jack Crawford. He pointed it out to me, and that's one of the reasons why he was so anxious to get you—" "Crawford, who is ascetic, is also anxious? He is already looking for help from students, so he must be very busy." "He's busy, he wants to—" "On the Buffalo Bill case." "I suppose so." "No, no, I think so. Officer Starling, you're perfectly aware of the Buffalo Bill case. I was thinking Jack Crawford might have sent you here to ask about that." "No." "So you're not going to talk about it in circles with me?" Yes.I'm here because we need your—" "How much do you know about Buffalo Bill?" "No one knows much." "Has it been reported in the newspapers?" "I think so, Dr. Lecter. I haven't seen any classified material on that case. My job is—" "How many women did Buffalo Bill get?" "The police found five." "All skinned?" "Partially stripped, yes." "His name was never explained in the papers. Do you know why he's called Buffalo Bill?" "Know." "tell me." "If you are willing to read this questionnaire, I will tell you." "Is it over if I don't see it, tell me, why?" "It started as a nasty joke in the Kansas City homicide case." "Oh? Go ahead.", "They called him Buffalo Bill because he skinned his victims." Starling found herself shifting from a feeling of fear to a feeling of inferiority.Compared with the two, she would rather still feel fear. "Send in the questionnaire." Starling rolled the blue part of the questionnaire on a plate.She sat motionless.Lecter flipped through it quickly. He tossed the questionnaire back into the teleporter. "Hey, Officer Starling, trying to dissect me with such a lousy little thing?" "No. I thought you could offer some insight to facilitate our research." "But what acceptable reason should I have for doing that?" "curious." "What are you curious about?" "Curious about why you are here, curious about what happened to you." "Nothing happened to me, Officer Starling. I was just a coincidence. Don't underestimate me and try to frame me when you use power. For the sake of the behaviorist school of psychology, good and evil don't matter, Officer Starling. Here Everyone puts on a pair of pants of moral dignity—there's never anything that can be said to be anyone's fault. Look at me, Officer Starling, can you bear to call me evil? Am I evil, Officer Starling?" "I think you've been hurting people. It's the same thing to me." "Evil is only harming people? If it were that simple, storms would be evil. We have fires, and hailstones. The underwriters call them 'acts of God' in general." "deliberately--" "I follow church collapses for fun. One fell in Sicily recently, did you see it? Amazing! During a special mass, the façade fell on sixty-five old ladies. Is that evil? And if so, who did it? If the Lord is up there, he loves the result, Officer Starling. Typhus and swans—all from the same place." "I can't tell you, doctor, but I know someone who can." He raised his hand to interrupt her.She noticed that this hand is very handsome, with two middle fingers that completely overlap, which is the rarest kind of polydactyly. When he spoke again, his tone was gentle and pleasant. "You're trying to measure me with numbers, Officer Starling. Pretty ambitious, huh? Do you know what you look like to me with a nice bag and cheap shoes? You look like a A bumpkin. A well-groomed, cramped bumpkin; just a little bit of class. Your eyes are like cheap birthstones—the whole surface lights up when you sneak around to catch some answer. Darkness is terrific. Clever, aren't you? Desperately trying not to be like your mother. Well nourished you've grown your head, but you haven't been a miner for more than a generation, Officer Starling. Are you a West Virginia Starling or an Oklahoma From the Homer Starling family, officer? Whether to go to college or join the women's marines, equal opportunity was hard to decide, wasn't it? Let me give you some specifics about myself, classmate Starling. In your room there is a string of gilded Your bead necklace looks so crappy now that you get a dreadful little jolt in your heart, don't you? Those people just say a tedious 'thank you' and you let everybody really caress for a while, Every bead gets slimy at the touch of it. No fun. No fun. No--no. Fashion ruins a lot of things, doesn't it? And taste can't be polite. Think about this conversation and you'll think of you The dumb animal hurt look on his face when he kicked him off. "If gold-plated bead necklaces have become gaudy, will anything else be gaudy next?Do you ask yourself that at night? "Dr. Lecter asked in an extremely gentle tone. Starling looked up to face him. "You've observed a lot, Dr. Lecter. I don't deny a single thing you said. But whether you mean it or not, you've just answered my question: Are you strong enough? Look at yourself with insight? It’s hard to face yourself, I just discovered that a few minutes ago. How about? Look at yourself and write down the actual situation. You can find more suitable and more complex than you Is it someone? Or maybe you're just afraid of yourself." "Officer Darlene, you're a pest, aren't you?" "Yes. It's understandable to do so." "And you don't want to think: You're average. That's painful! My God! Well, you're not average, Officer Starling, you're just afraid of being average. What are your necklace beads like? Is it seven millimeters?" "Seven millimeters." "I have a suggestion for you. Get a few loose tiger eye gemstones with a hole drilled in the middle, and alternately string them with gold-plated beads. You can string them two by three, or one by two. String, whatever looks best. The tiger eye gemstone will be the same color as your own eyes and the part of your hair that creates the highlight. Anyone got you a Valentine's Day gift?" "Have" "We're well into Lent, and Valentine's Day is a week away. Ugh, are you expecting any presents?" "Never sure." "No, you never expected it. . . . I've been thinking about Valentine's Day, and it reminded me of something funny. Now that I've remembered it, I can make your Valentine's Day very happy , Clarice Starling." "What do you mean, Dr. Lecter?" "A wonderful Valentine's present for you. I'll have to think about it. Now I beg your pardon. Goodbye, Officer Starling." "What about this questionnaire?" "A surveyor came to measure me once, and I ate his liver with fava beans and a hunk of Amron biscuit. Go back to school, little Starling." Hannibal Lecter was polite to the end, not turning his back on her.He backed away from the fence step by step, then walked to his little bed and lay down on it, far away from her, like a crusader carved in stone, lying on the grave. Starling suddenly felt empty, as if she had lost blood.It took her a while to put the papers back in the briefcase; it wouldn't have taken that long, but she didn't have the confidence in her legs to stand up right away, and Starling was soaking in failure.She hates losing.She folded the chair and leaned it against the utility door.She had to walk past Miggs again.Barney was in the distance, looking as if he was reading; she could have asked him to come get her.Damn Miggs!It couldn't be worse than walking past that gang of construction workers or rude delivery people every day in the city.She started walking back down the aisle. Next to her came the hiss of Miggs: "I bit my wrist so I could die--la! See it bleeding?" She should have called Barney, but she was frightened and looked into the cell.But when Miggs flicked his fingers, before he could turn his face away, he felt something warm splash on his face and shoulders. She ran away from him, only to realize that it was semen, not blood, and Lecter was calling her, and she could hear his voice.Dr. Lecter's voice was right behind her, shrill, more pronounced than before. " "Officer Starling!" He got up from the bed.While she was walking, he was still shouting behind her.She rummages around in her bag for toilet paper. Calling from behind: "Officer Starling!" By this time she had returned to normal and calmly controlled herself.She walked steadily towards the door. "Officer Starling!" Lecter's voice changed tune. She stopped.God!Why am I in such a hurry?Miggs hissed again, but she didn't listen. She stood in front of Lecter's cell again.She saw the doctor's rare frenzy.She knew he could smell the thing on her.He could smell anything. "I wouldn't do that to you. Disrespect seems to me indescribably abhorrent." "He seems to have washed his hands of less serious insolence after he's killed. Or else: Starling thinks she's got such a special imprint on her that he might be irritated to see her. She Can't tell. The sparks in his eyes flickered and flew into the darkness like fireflies into a cave." God!Whatever the trick, take advantage of this opportunity!She held up her briefcase. "Please do this questionnaire for me." Perhaps it was too late for her, and he regained his composure. "No. But since you're here, I'll make you happy. I'll give you something else, your favorite, Clarice Starling." "What is it, Dr. Lecter?" "Progress, of course. It worked out so well—I'm so happy! It was Valentine's Day that reminded me of it." He smiled, showing his small white teeth; smiling for any reason.He spoke so softly that she could hardly hear him. "Get your valentine in Raspail's car. Hear me? Get your valentine in Raspail's car. Better go now; Mig I think Stan won't be doing it again so soon, even if he's really mad, don't you think?"