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Dr. Doemling pushed his rimless glasses up on his nose and cleared his throat. “This is a classic example of what I have termed in my published work avunculism—it’s beginning to be referred to broadly in the professional literature as Doemling’s avunculism. Possibly it will be included in the next Diagnostic and Statistical Manual. It may be defined for laymen as the act of posturing as a wise and caring patron to further a private agenda.

“I gather from the case notes that the question about the lambs screaming refers to a childhood experience of Clarice Starling’s, the slaughter of the lambs on the ranch in Montana, her foster home,” Dr. Doemling went on in his dry voice.

“She was trading information with Lecter,” Krendler said. “He knew something about the serial killer Buffalo Bill.”

“The second letter, seven years later, is on the face of it a letter of condolence and support,” Doemling said. “He taunts her with references to her parents, whom she apparently venerates. He calls her father ’the dead night watchman’ and her mother ‘the chambermaid.’ And then he invests them with excellent qualities she can imagine that they had, and further enlists these qualities to

excuse her own failings in her career. This is about ingratiation, this is about control.

“I think the woman Starling may have a lasting attachment to her father, an imago, that prevents her from easily forming sexual relationships and may incline her to Dr. Lecter in some kind of transference, which in his perversity he would seize on at once. In this second letter he again encourages her to contact him with a personal ad, and he provides a code name.”

My Christ, the man went on! Restlessness and boredom were torture for Mason because he couldn’t fidget. “Right, fine, good, Doctor,” Mason interrupted. “Margot, open the window a little. I’ve got a new source on Lecter, Dr. Doemling. Someone who knows both Starling and Lecter and saw them together, and he’s been around Lecter more than anyone. I want you to talk to him.”

Krendler squirmed on the couch, his bowels beginning to stir as he saw where this was going.

CHAPTER

51

MASON SPOKE into his intercom and a tall figure came into the room. He was as muscular as Margot and dressed in whites.

“This is Barney,” Mason said. “He was in charge of the violent ward at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane for six years when Lecter was there. Now he works for me.”

Barney preferred to stand in front of the aquarium with Margot, but Dr. Doemling wanted him in the light. He took a place beside Krendler.

“Barney is it? Now, Barney, what is your professional training?”

“I have an LPN.”

“You’re a licensed practical nurse? Good for you. Is that all?”

“I have a bachelor’s degree in the humanities from the United States Correspondence College,” Barney said, expressionless. “And a certificate of attendance from the Cummins School of Mortuary Science. I’m qualified as a diener. I did that at night during nursing school.”

“You worked your way through LPN school as a morgue attendant?”

“Yes, removing bodies from crime scenes and assisting at autopsies.”

“Before that.”

“Marine Corps.”

“I see. And while you were working at the state hospital you saw Clarice Starling and Hannibal Lecter interacting—what I mean is, you saw them talking together?”

“It seemed to me they—”

“Let’s start with just exactly what you saw, not what you thought about what you saw, can we do that?”

Mason interrupted. “He’s smart enough to give his opinion. Barney, you know Clarice Starling.”

“Yes.”

“You knew Hannibal Lecter for six years.”

“Yes.”

“What was it between them?”