dagazspy:

inglenookie:

“You know why you’re here, Agent Graham.”

“Let’s just skip the formalities and get on with it. I know how this works.”

“You understand this is just an informal interview, Dr. Lecter?”

“Of course. I’m happy to provide whatever information or assistance I can offer.”

“I’m going to be asking you about the events of January 8th. You were with Dr. Lecter that night.”

“I was at his house, yes.”

“On the evening of January 8th, you were with Will Graham. Is that correct?”

“Will came to my home at my invitation. He’d visited for dinner on a few prior occasions as well. He was always highly complimentary in regard to my cooking and I’ve found him to be a most pleasant dinner companion.”

“What was the reason for your visit?”

“He likes feeding me.”

“So, this was a regular thing – the two of you having dinner?”

“Regular is a matter of subjective opinion, of course. It was not an infrequent occurrence. As I said, I enjoy Will’s company. I enjoy providing a fine meal. Something I expect he rarely takes time for outside of our shared repasts.”

“You’ve had dinner there before?”

“Yeah.”

“What time did he arrive?”

“I believe it was close to nine. Yes. I recall that I had just taken the roast out of the oven to rest. I was moving on to prepare a vinaigrette for the salad when I heard him at the door.”

“What time did you get there?”

“Around nine.”

“Did you notice anything unusual about him?”

“I dare say Will is an unusual fellow. Part of his charm. As to that particular night, he arrived as he often does. With an air of brusqueness and a sprinkling of dog hair.”

“Anything seem different about him?”

“Have you met Hannibal Lecter?”

“So, then you had dinner?”

“Not immediately. Will joined me in the kitchen to share a glass of Barolo while I put the finishing touches on dinner. I know that he prefers whiskey but I find a pre-meal glass of wine is much more suitable for preparing the palate. He’s kind enough to indulge me.”

“Did you sit down for dinner then?”

“No. He’s always got to make a little show of having a glass of wine first.”

“What did you talk about?”

“If I recall, I was telling Will about the winery where I purchased the Barolo. Rolling hills. The soil so dense it’s nearly black. A long growing season gives the wine an almost licorice taste, with the faintest touch of hibiscus. Have you been to the Piedmont region?”

“What did you talk about?”

“Wine. Italy. Something.”

“And then you had dinner?”

“Yes. Will accompanied me to the dining room where I served the salad course. He’s not very fond of vegetables, but I’ve learned that if I add a touch of honey to the dressing he will acquiesce to taking a few bites.”

“Then did you have dinner?”

“Yeah. We sat down for dinner.”

“Any conversation?”

“Good conversation is essential to a good meal. Among the reasons I prefer to dine with company.”

“Did you talk?”

“He talked.”

“What did you talk about?”

“Art, life, literature. We spoke at length about the battle-forged friendship of Achilles and Patrocles. A fond subject for both of us.”

“What did he talk about?”

“History. Some Greeks.”

“And then?”

“After the salad plates were cleared, I served a roast saddle of venison. It’s one of Will’s favorites and I enjoy making it for him whenever possible.”

“Did he talk about anything else?”

“Probably. I was eating. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“After dinner?”

“After dinner we retired to the living room for a snifter of brandy. The room was rather cold so Will started a fire. One of the small graces of winter, the smell of a fireplace.”

“What did you do after dinner?”

“We had another drink in the living room.”

“And you did that until what time?”

“Time is a bit fluid when you’re in good company. I would imagine it was about an hour later when we finished our drinks. One can’t rush brandy. It must yield itself.”

“How long did that take?”

“I don’t know. An hour?”

“What time would that have been?”

“Closing in on midnight would be my best estimate.”

“That would put it around …”

“Midnight maybe?”

“So, Will left at midnight?”

“No. He stayed a few more hours.”

“You left then?”

“Not right then.”

“I have to ask, Dr. Lecter. What did you do during those hours?”

“…”

“What did you do next, Agent Graham?”

“…”

“We played chess.”

“We played chess.”

Delightful fanfic