Chapter 49 Chapter Forty-eight

Crawford emerged from the funeral home and looked around the street for Jeff and the car.He didn't see Jeff or the car, but he saw Clarice Starling waiting for him under the awning, all in black, and she looked real in the light, exactly. "Send me," she said. Crawford had just picked out a coffin for his wife, and he was holding a paper bag in which was a pair of her shoes, which he had misplaced.He adjusted his mood to stabilize himself. "Forgive me," Starling said. "I wouldn't be here any other time. Send me." Crawford put his hands in his pockets and turned his neck until it emerged from his high collar.His eyes are bright, and he may be a little dangerous, "Where are you sent?"

"You sent me to find out how I felt about Catherine Martin—now let me find out how I feel about the others. All we have left is to find out how he preys How he found them and how he picked them. Of all your cops I'm as good as anyone, and better than them in some things. The victims were all women, and there wasn't a single woman on the case, Go into a woman's room. I know three times as much about a woman as a man, and you know it's true. Send me." "Are you ready to accept backfire?" "yes." "It's likely to take six months of your life."

She said nothing. Crawford kicked the grass with his toes, and he looked up at her, at the distant grass reflected in her eyes.She has a gritty, Bella-like, "Which one do you start with?" "First, Frederica Whitemer of Belvedere, Ohio." "Not Kimberly Amberg, the one you saw?" "He didn't do it to her. Mention Lecter? No. He'll find out on the line." "Emotionally it's going to be Emberger, isn't it, Starling? Travel expenses are covered. Got money?" The bank won't open for an hour. "I still have a little left on my Visa credit card."

Crawford reached into his pocket for the money.He gave her three hundred dollars in cash and a personal check. "Go, Starling. Just go to the first one. Stay close to the hotline. Call me." She raised her hand towards him.She didn't touch his face or hands, and there didn't seem to be anywhere she could touch.She turned and ran to her Pinto. She drove off, and Crawford patted his pockets.He had given her every last penny he had. "Baby needs a new pair of shoes," he said. "My baby doesn't need any more shoes." He stood in the middle of the sidewalk crying, tears streaming down his face.The head of a department of the FBI also looked stupid at this time.

Jeff saw the glow on his cheek from the car and backed the car into an alley so Crawford couldn't see him.Jeff got out of the car, lit a cigarette and smoked hard.He would hang around and bide his time until Crawford had dried up his tears and got angry and found a reason to reprimand himself; he wanted to make his own gift to Crawford in this way.