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“Now, Mr. Verger—”

“I want to tell you about camp,” he interrupted with his next exhalation. “It was a wonderful childhood experience that I’ve come back to, in essence.”

“We can get to that, Mr. Verger, but I thought we’d—”

“Oh, we can get to it now, Miss Starling. You see, it all comes to bear. It was how I met Jesus, and I’ll never tell you anything more important than that.” He paused for the machine to sigh. “It was a Christian camp my father paid for. He paid for the whole thing, all one hundred twenty-five campers on Lake Michigan. Some of them were unfortunates and they would do anything for a candy bar. Maybe I took advantage of it, maybe I was rough with them if they wouldn’t take the chocolate and do what I wanted—I’m not holding anything back, because it’s all okay now.”

“Mr. Verger, let’s look at some material with the same—”

He was not listening to her, he was only waiting for the machine to give him breath. “I have immunity, Miss Starling, and it’s all okay now. I’ve got a grant of immunity from Jesus, I’ve got immunity from the U.S. Attorney, I’ve got immunity from the DA in Owings Mills, Hallelujah.

I’m free, Miss Starling, and it’s all okay now. I’m right with Him and it’s all okay now. He’s the Risen Jesus, and at camp we called him The Riz. Nobody beats The Riz. We made it contemporary, you know, The Riz. I served Him in Africa, Hallelujah, I served Him in Chicago, praise His name, and I serve Him now and He will raise me up from this bed and He will smite mine enemies and drive them before me and I will hear the lamentations of their women, and it’s all okay now.” He choked on saliva and stopped, the vessels on the front of his head dark and pulsing.

Starling rose to get a nurse, but his voice stopped her before she reached the door.

“I’m fine, it’s all okay now.”

Maybe a direct question would be better than trying to lead him. “Mr. Verger, had you ever seen Dr. Lecter before the court assigned you to him for therapy? Did you know him socially?”

“No.”

“You were both on the board of the Baltimore Philharmonic.”

“No, my seat was just because we contribute. I sent my lawyer when there was a vote.”

“You never gave a statement in the course of Dr. Lecter’s trial.” She was learning to time her questions so he would have breath to answer.

“They said they had enough to convict him six times, nine times. And he beat it all on an insanity plea.”

“The court found him insane. Dr. Lecter did not plead.”

“Do you find that distinction important?” Mason asked.

With the question, she first felt his mind, prehensile and deep-sleeved, different from the vocabulary he used with her.

The big eel, now accustomed to the light, rose from the rocks in his aquarium and began the tireless circle, a rippling ribbon of brown beautifully patterned with irregular cream spots.

Starling was ever aware of it, moving in the corner of her vision.

“It’s a Muraena Kidako,” Mason said. “There’s an even bigger one in captivity in Tokyo. This one is second biggest.

“Its common name is the Brutal Moray, would you like to see why?”

“No,” Starling said, and turned a page in her notes. “So in the course of your court-ordered therapy, Mr. Verger, you invited Dr. Lecter to your home.”

“I’m not ashamed anymore. I’ll tell you about anything. It’s all okay now. I got a walk on those trumped-up molestation counts if I did five hundred hours of community service, worked at the dog pound and got therapy from Dr. Lecter. I thought if I got the doctor involved in something, he’d have to cut me some slack on the therapy and wouldn’t violate my parole if I didn’t show up all the time, or if I was a little stoned at my appointments.”

“This was when you had the house in Owings Mills.”

“Yes. I had told Dr. Lecter everything, about Africa and Idi and all, and I said I’d show him some of my stuff.”

“You’d show him …?”

“Paraphernalia. Toys. In the corner there, that’s the little portable guillotine I used for Idi Amin. You can throw it in the back of a Jeep, go anywhere, the most remote village. Set up in fifteen minutes. Takes the condemned about ten minutes to cock it with a windlass, little longer if it’s a woman or a kid. I’m not ashamed of any of that, because I’m cleansed.”

“Dr. Lecter came to your house.”

“Yes. I answered the door in some leather, you know. Watched for some reaction, didn’t see any. I was concerned he’d be afraid of me, but he didn’t seem to be. Afraid of me—that’s funny now. I invited him upstairs. I showed him, I had adopted some dogs from the shelter, two dogs that were friends, and I had them in a cage together with plenty of fresh water, but no food. I was curious about what would eventually happen.