Chapter 11 chapter Ten

Clarice Starling leans against a craps table at the FBI's Casino: trying to concentrate on a lecture on how money laundering works in gambling.Twenty-six hours earlier, the Baltimore County Police had recorded her testimony (taken by a typist who kept smoking cigarette after cigarette between his fingers, saying, "If this cigarette You find it annoying, see if you can open that window."), and then tell her to go out of the way; they remind her that murder is not under the jurisdiction of the FBI. Sunday night's news feed featured footage of Starling's confrontation with the TV cameraman, and she felt sure to be glued.During this entire process, neither Crawford nor the Baltimore bureau said a word, as if her report had been thrown down a hole.

At the moment she is standing in the casino; the casino is not big, and it was originally operated in a mobile articulated truck, but was later captured by the FBI and set up in the school as an auxiliary teaching tool.The cramped room was filled with police officers from many precincts; Starling declined the chairs offered to her by two Texas rangers and a Scotland Yard detective. The rest of the class was in the far hall of the college building, where they were picking hair from an actual motel rug in the "sex crime bedroom" and dusting "any city bank" for fingerprints.Starling had spent a great deal of her time as a member of the Society of Practical Medicine researching such things as searches and fingerprints, so she was referred to this lecture instead, one in a series for visiting law enforcement officers.

Was there another reason, she wondered, to separate her from the rest of the class?They want to drive you away, probably by isolating you first. Starling rested her elbows on the up-card lines of the craps table, trying to concentrate on listening to her teacher explain how to launder money in gambling.Instead, she thought about how annoyed the FBI would be to see its agents appear on television outside official press conferences. Dr. Hannibal Lecter was to the press what camphor is to cats, and the Baltimore police readily gave Starling's name to reporters.She saw images of herself over and over on the Sunday evening news network.For a moment there's "Starling the FBI" in Baltimore, and the cameraman tries to sneak in under the garage door as she swells on the door with the handle of a jack.A moment later, "Federal Agent Starling" was angry at the camera assistant with the jack handle in his hand.

At another competitor, WPIK, the news network formally-filed a personal injury lawsuit against "Starling of the FBI," and the FBI itself, for failing to film its own film, on the grounds that Starling bang The knock on the door knocked dust and rust into the cameraman's eyes. Joanita Johnson of WPIK revealed to the nation that Starling found the remains of the body in the garage through a "mysterious relationship with a man whom the authorities labeled ... the Devil"!Apparently, WPIK had someone at the hospital who gave it a lead. The Bride of the Suicide! was prominently featured in The National Secret, which sat on supermarket shelves.

The FBI made no public comment, but Starling knew there was a lot going on inside the bureau. At breakfast, one of her classmates—a chap who shaves and puts on copious amounts of Konu body lotion—calls Starling "Melvin Pervis," the number one at Hoover Detective Melvin Parvis's name is a silly wordplay.Adeleji Mapp said something to the young man, who instantly turned pale, left his breakfast, and left the table without eating. Now Starling found herself in a strange state, and nothing surprised her.Day and night, she felt restless, like a diver, her ears were buzzing but she couldn't hear anything.She intends to defend herself whenever she gets the chance—

The lecturer spun the roulette wheel on the gaming table while speaking, but never dropped the ball.Starling looked at him and believed that the man had never dropped a ball in his life.What was he saying: "Clarice Starling." How could he be saying, "Clarice Starling?" That was me! "Yes," she said. The lecturer raised her chin towards the door behind her.coming.When she turned to look, she only felt that fate was mocking her.Instead she saw Bram, the shooting instructor, leaning into the room and pointing at her through the crowd.When she saw him, Bram motioned her over.

For a split second she thought they were telling her to fuck off, but that wasn't Bram's job. In the corridor he said, "Saddle up, Starling. Where's your field gear?" "In my room—Room C." Then she had to walk quickly to keep up with him. He was carrying the big fingerprint box from the props room--a good thing, not the kindergarten box--and a little canvas bag. "You go with Jack Crawford today. Take things for the night. Maybe come back, but take it anyway." "Where are you going?" "Several duck shooters in West Virginia found a dead body in the Elk River around dawn. It looks like Buffalo Bill. The deputies are still investigating further. It's the real backcountry, and Jack doesn't want to wait for those boys Report the details." Bram stopped at the door of House C. "Among other things, he needs someone who can help him fingerprint floating corpses. You studied hard in the lab—you can do that, can't you?"

"Yes. Let me check that everything is in order." Bram opened the fingerprint box to hold it, and Starling took out the trays one by one.There are sophisticated hypodermic equipment and vials of medicine, but no cameras. "Mr. Bram, I need a one-to-one Polaroid instant camera, CU-5, and a film pocket and batteries." "Is it in the props room? Here it is for you." He handed her the little canvas bag, and when she felt its weight, she understood why Bram had called her. "You haven't put the guy on the mission yet, have you?" "No." "Got to fill up the case. This is the one you use all the time at the range. The pistol is mine, the same as yours in training, a standard K-Smith with the moving parts capped! Chance tonight Eject a few times in your room. I'll be waiting for you in the car behind House C with my camera in ten minutes. Listen, there's no toilet in 'Blue Canoe'. I advise you to go to the bathroom first when you have a chance. Hurry up , come on, Starling!"

She wanted to ask him a question, but he had walked away. If Crawford had gone himself, it must have been Buffalo Bill. "Blue Canoe" What the fuck is that?But when you pack your luggage, you have to think about the luggage.Starling packed quickly and well. "Is this—" "That's fine," Bram interrupted her as she got into the car. "The butt is a little against your shirt if anyone looks for it, but it's fine for now." She was wearing a brightly colored Inside was the short-barreled revolver, in a thin pancake-like leather holster against her ribs; on the other side of the body was the quickloader, slung diagonally from her belt.

Bram drove the car, keeping the speed limit of the base accurately, and drove towards the small airport in Kundik. He cleared his throat. "One thing we're thankful for at the shooting range, Starling, is that there's no politics." "No?" "You were right about securing the garage scene in Baltimore. Are you worried about the TV thing?" "Should I be worried?" "We're only talking about ourselves, right?" "right." A Marine, directing traffic, greeted Bram, who sent him one back. "Bringing you up today is Jack's confidence in you, anyone can see that," he said, "in case, say, someone from the Industrial Responsibility Office gets their hands on a file about you and goes on Get mad, do you understand what I'm telling you?"

"Hmmmm." "This guy Crawford dared to speak up. He made it clear at the critical moment that you had to protect the site. He wouldn't let you bring anything in there - that is, nothing that could show you It's official stuff, that's what he said. The Baltimore police didn't respond quickly, and besides, Crawford needs help today, and he'll have to wait until Jimmy Price gets someone here from the lab One hour, so I sent you here, Starling. Besides, floating corpses can't be left on the river beach for a day. This is not punishing you, but if outsiders must see it that way, it's okay, you pay attention, this guy Crawford Very delicate, but he doesn't want to explain everything, and I tell you . "I really do not know." "He had a lot of other things on his mind besides Buffalo Bill. His wife, Bella, was very sick and... terminal. He put her at home to nurse her. If it wasn't for Buffalo Bill, he would have hired private Fake." "I didn't know that." "Don't talk about it. Don't tell him you're sad or anything, it won't do him any good... They were once very happy together." "Glad you could tell me." When they got to the airport, Bram's face started to light up. "Starling, I have a few important lectures to give at the end of the firearms course, try not to miss them." He took a shortcut between several hangars. "I'll try to listen." "Look, I'm teaching something you'll probably never need, and I hope you won't. But you've got some talent, Starling. If you have to shoot, you can. Practice. " "Row" "Don't keep it in your bag." "Row" "Pull it out in the room at night and hit it a few times. Keep practicing like this until you can find the feeling." "I will." An antique twin-engine plane was parked on the taxiway of the small Kundik airstrip, the lights were turning, the doors were open.A propeller was spinning, violently blowing the weeds on the edge of the tarmac. "It's not going to be 'Blue Canoe,'" Starling said. "yes." "It's small and old." "It's old," Bram said happily. "It was intercepted in Florida, where drug enforcement used to be, and landed heavily in the swamps of Glades. But its mechanical parts are still intact. But May Graham and Rahman not find out we're using the plane—provided we're in a car." He pulled up to the side of the plane and pulled Starling's luggage from the back seat.In a hand-to-hand chaos, he managed to get the things over to Starling and shook her hand. Then Bram said, "God bless you, Starling!" Didn't mean to say it, so it felt weird coming out of his ex-Marine's mouth.He couldn't figure out where the words came from.He felt his face heat up. "Thank you... thank you, Mr. Bram." Crawford sat in the passenger seat, wearing a shirt and sunglasses.After hearing the driver slam the door, he turned to look at Starling. She couldn't see his eyes behind the black glasses, and she didn't even know him.Crawford looked pale and grim, like a stump pushed out by a bulldozer. "Sit down and watch." That's all he said. On the seat behind him sat a thick case file with Buffalo Bill written on the cover.Starling hugged it tightly. The "blue canoe" made a clattering sound, then suddenly shook, and began to slide forward.