“Mason,” the doctor said to the camera. Behind Mason, Lecter could see Margot’s silhouette, black against the aquarium. “Good evening, Margot,” his tone courteous now. “I’m glad to see you again.” From the clarity of his speech, Dr. Lecter may have been awake for some time.
“Dr. Lecter,” came Margot’s hoarse voice.
Tommaso found the sun gun over the camera and turned it on.
The harsh light blinded them all for a second.
Mason in his rich radio tones: “Doctor, in about twenty minutes we’re going to give the pigs their first course, which will be your feet. After that we’ll have a little pajama party, you and I. You can wear shorties by then. Cordell’s going to keep you alive for a long time—”
Mason was saying something further, Margot leaning forward to see the scene in the barn.
Dr. Lecter looked into the monitor to be sure Margot was watching him. Then he whispered to Carlo, his metallic voice urgent in the kidnapper’s ear:
“Your brother, Matteo, must smell worse than you by now. He shit when I cut him.”
Carlo reached to his back pocket and came out with the electric cattle prod. In the bright light of the TV camera, he whipped it across the side of Lecter’s head. Holding the doctor’s hair with one hand, he pressed the button on the handle, holding the prod close in front of Lecter’s face as the high-voltage current arced in a wicked line between the electrodes on the end.
“Fuck your mother,” he said and plunged it arcing into Dr. Lecter’s eye.
Dr. Lecter made no sound—the sound came from the speaker, Mason roaring as his breath permitted him, and Tommaso strained to pull Carlo away. Piero came down from the loft to help. They sat Carlo down in the cane chair. And held him.
“Blind him and there’s no money!” they screamed in both his ears at once.
Dr. Lecter adjusted the shades in his memory palace to relieve the terrible glare. Ahhhhh. He leaned his face against the cool marble flank of Venus.
Dr. Lecter turned his face full to the camera and said clearly: “I’m not taking the chocolate, Mason.”
“Sumbitch is crazy. Well, we knew he was crazy,” said Deputy Sheriff Mogli. “But Carlo is too.”
“Go down there and get between them,” Mason said.
“You sure they got no guns?” Mogli said.
“You hired out to be tough, didn’t you? No. Just the tranquilizer gun.”
“Let me do it,” Margot said. “Keep from starting some macho crap between them. The Italians respect their mamas. And Carlo knows I handle the money.”
“Walk the camera out and show me the pigs,” Mason said. “Dinner’s at eight!”
“I don’t have to stay for that,” Margot said.
“Oh, yes you do,” Mason said.
CHAPTER
83
MARGOT TOOK a deep breath outside the barn. If she was willing to kill him, she ought to be willing to look at him. She could smell Carlo before she opened the door to the tack room. Piero and Tommaso stood on either side of Lecter. They faced Carlo, seated in the chair.
“Buona sera, signori,” Margot said. “Your friends are right, Carlo. You ruin him now, no money. And you’ve come so far and done so well.”
Carlo’s eyes never left Dr. Lecter’s face.
Margot took a cell phone from her pocket. She punched numbers on its lighted face and held it out to Carlo. “Take it.” She held it in his line of vision. “Read it.”
The automatic dialer read BANCO STEUBEN.
“That’s your bank in Cagliari, Signor Deogracias. Tomorrow morning, when this is done, when you’ve made him pay for your brave brother, then I’ll call this number and tell your banker my code and say, ‘Give Signor Deogracias the rest of the money you hold for him.’ Your banker will confirm it to you on the phone. Tomorrow evening you’ll be in the air, on your way home, a rich man. Matteo’s family will be rich too. You can take them the doctor’s cojones in a zip-lock bag to comfort them. But if Dr. Lecter can’t see his own death, if he can’t see the pigs coming to eat his face, you get nothing. Be a man, Carlo. Go get your pigs. I’ll sit with the son of a bitch. In half an hour you can hear him scream while they eat his feet.”