The Silence of the Lambs (Hannibal Lecter 2)

She hadn’t expected this. “I showed them at the … office.”

“You mean you showed them to Frederick Chilton, Ph.D.?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see his credentials?”

“No.”

“The academic ones don’t make extensive reading,

I can tell you. Did you meet Alan? Isn’t he charming? Which of them had you rather talk with?”

“On the whole, I’d say Alan.”

“You could be a reporter Chilton let in for money. I think I’m entitled to see your credentials.”

“All right.” She held up her laminated ID card.

“I can’t read it at this distance, send it through, please.”

“I can’t.”

“Because it’s hard.”

“Yes.”

“Ask Barney.”

The orderly came and considered. “Dr. Lecter, I’ll let this come through. But if you don’t return it when I ask you to—if we have to bother everybody and secure you to get it—then I’ll be upset. If you upset me, you’ll have to stay bundled up until I feel better toward you. Meals through the tube, dignity pants changed twice a day—the works. And I’ll hold your mail for a week. Got it?”

“Certainly, Barney.”

The card rolled through on the tray and Dr. Lecter held it to the light.

“A trainee? It says ‘trainee.’ Jack Crawford sent a trainee to interview me?” He tapped the card against his small white teeth and breathed in its smell.

“Dr. Lecter,” Barney said.

“Of course.” He put the card back in the tray carrier and Barney pulled it to the outside.

“I’m still in training at the Academy, yes,” Starling said, “but we’re not discussing the FBI—we’re talking about psychology. Can you decide for yourself if I’m qualified in what we talk about?”

“Ummmm,” Dr. Lecter said. “Actually … that’s rather slippery of you. Barney, do you think Officer Starling might have a chair?”

“Dr. Chilton didn’t tell me anything about a chair.”

“What do your manners tell you, Barney?”

“Would you like a chair?” Barney asked her. “We could have had one, but he never—well, usually nobody needs to stay that long.”

“Yes, thank you,” Starling said.

Barney brought a folding chair from the locked closet across the hall, set it up, and left them.

“Now,” Lecter said, sitting sideways at his table to face her, “what did Miggs say to you?”

“Who?”