Palace of Horns

The binoculars were heavy in his hand.  “They call them bins,” Jimmy said. “Nice and efficient.” “They being who?” “The bird-watchers. I assume…” “Oh, no, that is a mistake,” Will couldn’t help but smile, and when Jimmy looked at him, the eyebrows raised in silent question, he explained. “Don’t ever use the word “assume” with Jack. He takes pride in his little lectures about how the one who assumes makes an ass of me and you.” “Does he? Well, that surely sounds clever… and, yet, I think that the guy is into bird-watching.”  “It fits the profile. A loner with a pair of binoculars in the woods,” Brian took the binoculars from Will and started examining them. “You see him in the woods and think that he’s just one of those nutters tracking the birds…” “... Bird-watching is a sophisticated and presentable hobby!” “... but he’s a different kind of nutter. The one who tracks people.” “Have we already identified the victim?” Will knew he had to be more interested in the case, more interested in the person who did it… he wasn’t. He felt like he was on the verge of a break-down, and not the fancy type where you get to rest a lot and people offer you a shoulder to cry on. He felt like a lightbulb that was about to go off. A moment of spark and then complete darkness. In his mind it was cool but not cold, and Will had to make an effort to come back to the room where Jimmy and Brian were bickering like a couple married for half a century.  “Sorry, I dozed off… Have we..?” “Not yet.” Zeller had that strange look that Will didn’t care much about. The look that wordlessly suggested him to go and see a shrink. His shrink was busy tonight with a surrogate daughter of theirs.  “We’ll need to check whether the victim had been an avid bird-watcher himself. The binoculars…” “The bins.” “The bins,” Will repeated obediently. “Seem very expensive. This isn’t a purchase you can make with only cash on you…” “Good call,” Jimmy was nodding, apparently pleased with the fact Will had used the word.  Will came unannounced. He didn’t remember how he ended up in Hannibal’s sitting room, and the word “sitting room” made him smile. Dr. Lecter was the only living being he knew who could get away with having a dedicated sitting room while all other people had either a dining room, or a living room, or both. “Hello, Will,” Hannibal’s voice came from behind but Will didn’t turn around, fascinated by the dark and cold void of the fireplace. Dr. Lecter’s fireplace was quiet and dead, unlike his own that he had to disassemble to make the noises stop. “Have you been waiting here long?” “I don’t know.”  “I see,” the voice said, and for a moment Will was sure that if he decided to turn around right now, he wouldn't see Hannibal there. There would be a deserted dark sitting room with the clock on the wall silently counting the seconds of his sanity left. “Let me offer you a cup of tea.” “Am I really here?” Will asked thoughtfully. “If by here you mean my home, then, yes, you are here.” “Are you really here?” This time the answer didn’t come in words. Will felt the weight of his palm on the shoulder, and then the long and delicate fingers tightened. “You are.” “May I step into the kitchen to brew you a cup of tea? You will feel much better afterwards… much more awake. I promise.” Will took some time thinking it over. Dr. Lecter’s hand was on his shoulder, anchoring him to the time and place, and that was enough to hesitate with the answer. “Sure,” finally Will said and added. “Don’t take too long, though.” “I wouldn’t dare.” The fingers unclenched, the hand left and so did Hannibal. “Have you ever been into bird-watching?” “No. Have you?” “No. This feels like something a rich guy would do. Someone who has plenty of free time on his hands.”  Tea did help. Will felt warm, and present, and more awake than before. Hannibal got the fire going in the fireplace, and the sitting room was alive with the shadows and sounds of the logs crackling. “I worry about you, Will.” “Do you think he’s rich? And the feathers that…” “Please, do let me avoid asking you to shut up about the case,” Hannibal asked softly, and Will fell silent. “I am grateful you came unannounced here, to my place.” “Grateful?” “Yes. If you had decided to visit Jack, for instance, he would have shot you… or the dark figure in his living room in the middle of the night.” That was a thought that hadn’t occurred to him. Will shivered with the realization. Of course, Jack would have shot him. Stand-your-ground. The right of self-defense. Jack wouldn’t have done it to defend himself but rather his wife. A fool’s death. “Why didn’t you shoot me?” “I don’t own a gun.” “You should,” Will finished his tea and put the cup on the coaster. “At least, after what had happened at your office… with Tobias Budge.” Hannibal said nothing. “You managed without a gun, though.” “I did, yes.” “When did you understand it was me sitting in here?” “Instantly.” Hannibal smiled. “I smelled it was you.” The binoculars belonged to the victim, after all.