Chapter Text
She remembered once more; reaching across the barrier and taking her casefile back from Dr. Lecter. For an instant the tip of her forefinger and Doctor Lecter’s touching. As their fingers had touched, ever so slightly, there appeared to be a crackle of light behind the usual calm in the eyes of a monster.
“Thank you, Clarice.”
“Thank you, Doctor Lecter.”
She remembered, too, looking behind her just as he reached for the table and had to steady himself against it, after their fateful touch.
It had been five years since Dr Lecter’s escape. Clarice, now, sat in her car while those distant memories passed her system. She shoved the memories further down, ‘Fuck, Dr. Lecter, and fuck this shit,’ she insisted at the memories without really meaning it as she opened her car door and grabbed her bag to head inside. She had been working menial bullshit tasks ever since that fucking dipshit, Paul Krendler, got ahold of her name in the bureau.
The basement of the FBI was cold, distant, seemingly lifeless, with stacks upon stacks of the cold case files from the previous day. She was surprised to see Jack Crawford sitting beside her desk. He rose when she came in and said, “Morning, Starling.”
“Good morning, Mr. Crawford. How can I help you?” She reached for the hand that Crawford had extended.
“I need you on a case. Now I don’t need you worrying about Krendler or anyone else for that matter,” He got up and guided her out of the room before she even had the chance to think, but she followed him. As they walked, he talked, “two girls missing, identical twins Jessica and Erin Shelton, presumed alive. He keeps them alive for about a week. The other pair were found dead just inside the Badlands National Park, exactly as the murders from three years ago. They’re found nude and bound with the same torture marks. Consisting of electric marks from a picana, beatings, and consistent signs of waterboarding, along with drenching them in water…” he paused for a second to gather his thoughts, “to exacerbate the shocks. However, they’re found dry with their makeup redone. The only sign showing he cares for the victims afterwards.”
“Mr. Crawford, do you believe they caught the wrong guy?” Clarice asks as the information is relayed from Crawford's tongue.
“No. No, they caught the right guy the first time around. He was disposing of the bodies when the deputy at the Badlands found him. The main difference is how they’re found. This guy however, likes a bit of a display, the first two were found tied to stakes in the ground facing each other. As if they were... dancing.”
“They’re twins?”
“Yes, the display is, suggestive.”
Once they entered the stuffed Behavioral Analysis Unit she saw the white board, photos of headless women, bound and in the nude, a map of locations, a few sketches, and the casefiles. She found herself standing in front of it, almost gaping at the brutalness of it all. No, it wasn’t that it was the worst thing she had ever seen, but they were the same killings, in the same places as a killer from three years ago. And that guy was rotting in prison.
“You’re sure you didn’t catch the wrong guy?” She asked, eyes still stuck on the whiteboard and case files, “not like the media did anything to cover anything up,” she said offhandedly.
“Starling.”
“Mr. Crawford, you know it’s true. They sold out all the information to journalists to be sensationalists,” she was pissed.
The journalists were vultures, especially now with the sudden boom of serial killers, and the previous team assigned to the case seemed only to care for the “glory”.
“Even so we still need to catch this guy, Starling, I know you’re mad you didn’t get on the case before but now’s the chance for you to do the right thing, the thing you’re good at,” Crawford's tone was depleted, he was pissed at how it was handled three years ago but he had to stay on top of it. “But Elias Jones undeniably killed those people three years ago…” Crawford began to trail off at the end; he was getting older.
“Mr. Crawford…” she began but was caught off.
“Clarice, I know,” He said and gave her a stern look before he continued, “you’ll be assisting agent Richard Peck on this case. He’s already on scene and handling what he can, However, Clarice, what he needs you to do is to talk to Elias Jones-"
“Jack,” she hesitated, she realized quickly, once again Jack Crawford was only using her, for what? It’s not like she was some magic being serial killers would talk to, did he know what he was asking of her? Again?
“Richard Peck was on the case previously, no?”
“He was all we had to send. Peck certainly wasn’t my first choice, and he didn’t handle it the best then. But,” Crawford let out a deep sigh before continuing, “I do believe that he’s changed.”
“Cha-” Clarice cut herself off with a shake of the head, “So, Peck wants me to interview Elias Jones, ‘cause he... What? Saw that I interviewed a cannibal five years ago?”
“Clarice,” he snapped, “Unfortunately, he’s refused to talk to Peck. The only words that have come out of his mouth have been ‘the Starling girl from the news years ago.’ Elias Jones has specifically said that he’d only talk to you.”
That you hung in the air and stung like rot infested walls surrounding the walls of prison bars. She stared blankly at Mr. Crawford and then back to the wall of victims, the latest two who were presumably still alive.
“I-”
“Clarice, look, I don’t like it either. I don’t enjoy having to negotiate like this with a damn serial killer,” he rubbed at the bridge of his nose before continuing, “this time you’ll only be in the interview room, nothing more. It’s set up to be completely safe.”
She took a breath and said, “right, when do I leave?” The only thing that mattered was bringing back those girls alive. She wasn’t even sure why she was so irritable at the thought of talking to another killer – it was her job after all.
“As soon as you can get your go bag.”
“Oh, and Starling, I’m going to need your word every night. Brass is up everyone's ass on this one, we will need constant reporting.”
She nodded, and just as soon as the day had started, she was on the plane heading for The Badlands National Park. The plane ride felt long, and her thoughts had begun to race, trapping her against her seat. She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply, reminding herself that this was for the twins, and bringing a murder to justice. She exhaled. She knew then, and from the way Crawford had said that you, that this wouldn’t be like Lecter, that it would be far different. But she had to save those girls. Jessica and Erin Shelton.
Her plane landed in the Rapid City Regional Airport. It was still daytime when she had landed. She gathered her go back and walked toward the gate where she met Agent Richard Peck. She saw him before he said anything. Tall, unnervingly slender, an average build, and dirty blonde hair. With his eyes set on her, an almost twisted green. Sure, he was a slime-bag agent which was nothing she hadn’t worked with before. He extended his large hand toward her and she accepted it.
“Richard Peck,” the man extended his arms and continued, “and you must be Agent Starling,” giving her a slick grin, “y’know I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Nice to meet you,” his hand felt sweaty within her own, his stance betrayed nothing, but she could tell he was already exhausted of the case, his name hanging in tabloids questioning whether or not he’s fit for the job. She, herself, was questioning the same after all Crawford had given her.
“Are you ready to get to work or do you wanna rest up for a bit?” he smirked; his tone was backhanded — as if he didn’t believe she was fit for the job.
“No,” Starling said walking beside him toward the car, “why don’t we go over the previous case and then I can go down and question Elias Jones.”
“Good. Not like we have any time to rest anyway.”
They reached the small black sedan and got in. The air in the car felt heavy and hot, practically sweltering – the air conditioner had broken in the car, and the windows were down creating a helicopter noise in the back. Hardly any time to be able to talk. Clarice began sifting through the files she was handed. The files from three years ago were fairly skimpy, dry. They had caught Jones from a stroke of luck, pure luck. He had gotten sloppy and was found by a park ranger, shot in the arm. Elias Jones never even carried a weapon when he was disposing of the last two victims. Yet, the previous agents — partially including Richard Peck — had taken all the credit, and sold it all to be known… and now he was back to fuck it up again for Starling.
Starling found in the sweltering heat of the car that there were a few inconsistencies to the case that could prove it to be a copycat. The victims from three years ago, all female twins, the current victims also twins. Elias Jones turned out not to have a twin — that they know of at least. Nothing in any DNA database or birth records, he was an only child. The main inconsistencies within the case were how they were displayed, Elias showed no care and simply dumped them. He also took victims every 6 months, spanning three years. This guy, however, wasted no time. After the first disposal in the badlands he picked up Jessica and Erin Shelton just a few weeks later. Jones’s ruse was pretending to be a modeling agent — specifically for twins. This guy could be using the same ruse, possibly. But with the extensive effort the surrounding cities and towns went through for targeted ads to ensure safety about modeling ruses it was possible he was using something else. Or simply picking them up outside of bars, drunk.
The biggest thing to jump out at Clarice was that Elias Jones didn’t seem to fit the profile of the first killings, if he’d have been his own killer, Elias Jones, would fit that of a sadistic spree killer. He wasn’t calm and precise, like the killings, no matter how brutal they were, suggested that the killer would be, nor did he have any property to keep them at. He wouldn’t take the time to stage victims out within six months. She realised quickly that it was a partner. That the dominant partner was still out there. And that they seemed to almost swap personalities, considering the real dominant partner wasn’t taking his usual breaks, but was enjoying the staging. Certainly, the victims from three years ago weren’t staged six months apart nor actually killed by Elias Jones, but he had had a play in the torture.
As Peck pulled into the Rapid City station he was waved down. The two agents exited the car and walked toward the officer.
“Deputy Martin,” Richard Peck greeted with a firm handshake, “and this is Agent Starling. She’s here to interview Elias Jones.”
“Agent Starling… uh… you’re the one from the tabloids all the years ago, correct? Buffalo Bill?”
“Yessir, it’s nice to meet you,” she said, shaking his hand, “I’m just here to assist Agent Peck with the case.”
“Ah, right. Anyway, I was told y’all would be here,” the deputy sighed, a deep and heavy sigh, and then proceeded, “A body has been discovered this afternoon. We believe that it is one of the twins,” the officer started.
“Not both?” Peck asked.
“No, just the one. We’re unsure if it is her… however the reports say she was bound and nude. She was… mmm… posed like the ones from a week ago.”
“He’s only had them for a day and a half?” Clarice found herself wondering aloud, her chest felt like it had collapsed the moment she found out one of the girls had already been found.
“Yes. Mr. and Mrs. Shelton are already at the morgue to confirm if it is their daughter,” the deputy continued, "unfortunately we weren’t able to get a hold of y'all and we couldn’t leave her to the elements till you showed,” he said regrettably.
“I spoke with them yesterday, they mentioned a nut allergy,” Peck said looking at Deputy Martin.
“So, he feeds them?” Clarice asked, looking up at Peck.
“The first day, yes... But not really, only scraps and things,” Peck sighed.
Deputy Martin shrugged and said, “well you lot let me know if you want to see the sight, but I gotta get down to the park, staff’s a bit low,” he extended a card and walked off.
The card now in Clarice's hand, staring silently at the man who opened his car door and closed it, driving away. An eyebrow raised in surprise by the hurriedness of his composure.
“Right, Starling, why don’t you go on and talk with Elias. I’ll go meet with the Shelton's and then we can meet back at the station to go over things,” Peck took the card out of Clarice's hand and started to walk toward the car, “tomorrow morning we can go to the park and look around.”
“We should look today, while it’s still fresh,” Clarice argued.
“You got today, 3:30 to talk to Elias Jones, he said he’d only talk now at this time. Afterall, you are the best at getting those fucks to talk after all,” Peck said looking off then with a mutter added, “or so we’ve all heard.”
That burned a rage in Starling's chest, one she wanted to fight but fought it back, she’d already been labeled “difficult” to work with, she didn’t want to have her chances ruined with this absolute skeeze-ball. It seemed like Peck’s only motivation was cleaning up his reputation. She wondered if he even cared for the victims, there had to be something there… right?
“The procedure mandates we check the site out to ensure nothing was glossed over, Agent Peck, I think with your current reputation you’d want to do everything you can to ensure that the girls are brought home safely.”
He looked at her, “They went over the procedure, I trust these guys, after all they did a good job three years ago… I… I didn’t. And I’ll work tirelessly to get this fucker. I’m sick of you people,” he gestured broadly, “wiping my name when you weren’t there. But that doesn’t matter now, what matters now is getting the other sister back alive. I know Elias Jones is a complete, well, monster, but just try to get through to him, Starling. You’re good at it.” He reached the black sedan, got in and started the car, then looking back at Clarice, gave her a nod and backed away.
Clarice bit back her cheek before she said anything to further distance herself from the case and Peck. Not to throw something at him. She didn’t like the guy. He and the other agents had screwed the case three years ago and now it seemed like he didn’t really care about it at all. His tone was condescending and deplorable. Though, looking past the fumble of him and his team three years ago there was at least a part of him that did care for the victims… hopefully. So, she gripped the case files and took a deep breath before heading into the penitentiary she was just left at.
It was, once more, on Clarice Starling to interview a serial killer. This time she trembled slightly as she went up the stairs. She didn’t like the way Crawford had practically handed her over to Elias Jones on a silver platter, just because he asked.