The tip of his tongue appeared, with his lips equally red. It touched his upper lip in the exact center and went back in again.
“Clarice.”
She heard the slight metallic rasp beneath his voice and wondered how long it had been since last he spoke. Beats of silence …
“You’re up late for a school night,” he said.
“This is night school,” she said, wishing her voice were stronger. “Yesterday I was in West Virginia—”
“Did you hurt yourself?”
“No, I—”
“You have on a fresh Band-Aid, Clarice.”
Then she remembered. “I got a scrape on the side of the pool, swimming today.” The Band-Aid was out of sight, on her calf beneath her trousers. He must smell it. “I was in West Virginia yesterday. They found a body over there, Buffalo Bill’s latest.”
“Not quite his latest, Clarice.”
“His next-to-latest.”
“Yes.”
“She was scalped. Just as you said she would be.”
“Do you mind if I go on sketching while we talk?”
“No, please.”
“You viewed the remains?”
“Yes.”
“Had you seen his earlier efforts?”
“No. Only pictures.”
“How did you feel?”
“Apprehensive. Then I was busy.”
“And after?”
“Shaken.”
“Could you function all right?” Dr. Lecter rubbed his charcoal on the edge of his butcher paper to refine the point.
“Very well. I functioned very well.”
“For Jack Crawford? Or does he still make house calls?”
“He was there.”
“Indulge me a moment, Clarice. Would you let your head hang forward, just let it hang forward as though you were asleep. A second more. Thank you, I’ve got it now. Have a seat, if you like. You had told Jack Crawford what I said before they found her?”
“Yes. He pretty much pooh-poohed it.”
“And after he saw the body in West Virginia?