H A N N I B A L

                          MASON
               We can get to it now.  You see, it all
               comes to bear, it's where I met Jesus and
               I'll never tell you anything more impor-
               tant than that.  It was a Christian camp
               my father paid for.  Paid for the whole
               thing, all 125 campers on Lake Michigan.
               Many of them were unfortunate, cast-off
               little boys and girls would do anything
               for a candy bar.  Maybe I took advantage
               of that.  Maybe I was rough with them -

                          STARLING
               Mr. Verger, I don't need to know about
               the sex offenses.  I just -

                          MASON
               It's all right.  I have immunity, so
               it's all right now.  I have immunity from
               the U.S. Attorney.  I have immunity from
               the D.A. in Owings Mills.  I have
               immunity from the Risen Jesus and nobody
               beats the Riz.

                          STARLING
               What I'd like to know is if you'd ever
               seen Dr. Lecter before the court assigned
               you to him for therapy?

                          MASON
               You mean - socially?
                   (laughs)

                          STARLING
               That is what I mean, yes.  Weren't you
               both on the board of the Baltimore Phil-
               harmonic?

                          MASON
               Oh, no, my seat was just because my
               family contributed.  I sent my lawyer
               when there was a vote.

                          STARLING
               Then I'm not sure I understand how he
               ended up at your house that night, if
               you don't mind talking about it.

                          MASON
               Not at all.  I'm not ashamed.

                          STARLING
               I didn't say you should be.

                          MASON
               I invited him, of course.  He was too
               professional to just sort of "drop in."
               I answered the door in my nicest come-
               hither leather outfit.

     FLASHCUT of the door opening, revealing Verger, in his
     leather gear, his face young and pretty.

                          MASON
               I was concerned he'd be afraid of me,
               but he didn't seem to be.  Afraid of me;
               that's funny now.

     FLASHCUT of Verger leading Lecter upstairs, each with a glass
     of wine in hand.

                          MASON
               I showed him my toys, my noose set-up
               among other things - where you sort of
               hang yourself but not really.  It feels
               good while you - you know.

     FLASHCUT to some dogs watching Verger with the noose around
     his neck, and Lecter offering him some amyl nitrite.

                          MASON
               Anyway - he said, Would you like a
               popper, Mason?  I said, Would I.  And
               whoa, once that kicked in I knew it was
               more than simple amyl, it was some kind
               of custom meth-angel-acid highball.
               Lovely.  I was flying -

     FLASHBACK to Mason's image in a full-length mirror shattering
     as Lecter kicks it.

                          MASON'S VOICE
               The good doctor came over with a piece
               of broken mirror.  Mason, he said -

                          LECTER
               - show me how you smile to get the
               confidence of a child.

     Lecter holds a shard of mirror glass in front of him.

                          LECTER
               Uh-huh.  Do you ever smile?  Oh, I see
               how you do it.
               Now Mason, let's say you had to hide
               that kindly, fictitious mask?  How would
               you do it?

     Verger tries to look serious, or mean, but his features are
     just too sweet, even with a noose around his neck.

                          LECTER
               No, I still see it.  Try again.
                   (Verger tries again)
               No.  No, I'm afraid not.  Try this.
                   (hands him the glass)
               Try peeling off your face with this and
               feeding it to the dogs.

     As Verger lifts the broken glass to his face -

     BACK TO the faceless Verger in the bed, his claw of a hand
     gripping invisible glass -

                          MASON
               Well, you know the rest.
                   (shrugs)
               Seemed like a good idea at the time.

     Starling looks like someone who has just received much more
     information than she ever needed or wanted.  Cordell comes in
     quietly with Verger's lunch on a rolling cart, and trying not
     to interrupt, arranges the silverware and pours some water.

                          STARLING
               Mr. Verger, you -

                          MASON
               Are you shocked, Agent S?

                          STARLING
               You indicated to -
                   (her eyes dart to the tape, and
                    his follow them)
               - to my office - that you've received
               some kind of new information.

                          MASON
               Look in the drawer of the end table.

     Starling takes out a pair of thin cotton gloves and puts
     them on.  In the drawer she finds a large manila envelope and
     in it, an x-ray of an arm.

                          STARLING
               Where did this come from?

                          MASON
               Buenos Aires.  I received it two weeks
               ago.

                          STARLING
               Where's the package it came in?

                          MASON
               The package it came in... good question.
               I don't know.  There was nothing written
               on it of interest.  Did I throw it out?

     Starling smells a rat, but keeps it to herself.  Takes a
     closer look at the x-ray while Cordell busies himself climb-
     ing a step ladder next to the aquarium.

                          MASON
               Think it will help?  I hope so.  I hope
               it'll help you catch him, if for no other
               reason than to heal the stigma of your
               recent dishonor.

     She switches off the tape recorder.

                          STARLING
               Thank you, that's all I -

                          MASON
               Did you feel some rapport with Dr.
               Lecter in your talks at the asylum?
               I know I did while I was peeling.

                          STARLING
               We exchanged information in a civil way.

                          MASON
               But always through the glass.

                          STARLING
               Yes.

                          MASON
               The eel and fish become accustomed to
               each other through the glass.  They're
               even company for one another.

     Cordell's gloved hand grips the snapper and transfers it to
     the other side of the aquarium, where the eel at once rips a
     piece out of it.  Starling tries to ignore it and reaches to
     unclip the microphone from Verger's pajames lapel.

                          MASON
               Isn't it funny?

     Nothing is particularly funny to her right now.

                          STARLING
               What's that?

                          MASON
               You can look at my face, but you shied
               when I said the name of God.

     INT. EVIDENCE STORAGE - QUANTICO - DAY

     A clerk is cataloging strange items from another case as
     Starling inspects what he brought her on Lecter.  There's not
     much there.  One cardboard box-worth, some files, video tape.

                          CLERK
               Not finding what you want?

                          STARLING
               Are you sure this is all of it?

                          CLERK
               That's all of it now.  There used to be
               more, but it's been picked over little by
               little over the years.  It's worth a lot
               of money in certain circles.  Like the
               cocaine that disappears around here.
               Little by little.

     INT. BASEMENT - BEHAVIORAL SCIENCE - DAY

     The room Starling's been given to work out of used to be
     the department's basement darkroom.  There's almost nothing
     in it now.  Couple of old enlargers, chemical trays, an ugly
     rented couch, a metal desk, a computer, and a blackboard on
     wheels she has chalked with the headings "Lecter" and
     "Verger," a few scribbled notes under each name.

     She's taken the video tape from the paltry contents of the
     evidence box and puts in in a VCR.  In a moment, a scene in
     black and white, captured by a security camera at the
     Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, plays out
     in silence:

     Lecter wired up for an EKG.  A female nurse getting too
     close.  Lecter attacking her.  Biting her.  A black orderly
     rushing in and roughly subduing him, breaking his arm in the
     process, then attending to the fallen nurse.

     INT. BASEMENT - BEHAVIORAL SCIENCE - LATER

     A cursor blinks in a search panel.  Starling types in
     "Hannibal Lecter," enters it and waits.

     The laptop screen fills with a listing of sites, the first
     20 of 611,046, according to the engine.  A banner to one side
     offers, "Amazon.com ... Hannibal Lec ... Save up to 50% ...
     Shop-4-Pokemon."

     One of the listings is the FBI's own consumer site, others
     refer to published articles by and about Lecter, but most
     have names like, "Hannibal's Chamber of Horrors," and
     "Fava Beans Anyone?"

     Starling scrolls down to the bottom query panel to narrow
     her search.  Adds, "memorabilia," and hits Enter.  The screen
     fills with another listing of sites, like, "Kenny's Trading
     Post," and, "World Wide Collectibles," with brief
     descriptions of some of the wares offered:

     "Credit card receipt from Dean & DeLuca w/genuine signature
     of Hannibal Lecter, $550 OBO / PP."

     "Mark McGuire 1998 season home run ball (#67), w/papers,
     all reasonable offers considered."

     "Flatware w/etched lions on handles, owned by Hannibal
     Lecter.  24 pieces, one spoon missing.  Real.  No dealers.
     $6,500."

     "Hockey, basketball (and non-sports) trading cards."

     "Lecter victim (#3) Sam Sirrah's death certificate.  Not a
     Xerox.  Nice frame.  Price upon request."

     "Hannibal Lecter's '62 Mercedes.  Really.  Only two owners
     since incarceration.  Clean.  85,000."

     "Valentine card from H. Lecter.  Signed.  Sweet sentiment.
     Hate to part with it but need money.  $950."

     No x-rays.  Starling thinks.  Clears the address in the top
     panel and types something else.  A new screen appears, headed
     with bold, colorful lettering:  "eBay."

     She types in "Hannibal Lecter" again.  Hits the "Find it!"
     button.  An auction screen appears.  14 items.  "H. Lecter x-
     ray" second from the top.  "Item #194482661."  61 bidders.
     In red:  "Ends in 49 Mins."

     She highlights the item and is taken to the details screen.
     Scrolls down.  No photo, but there is a description:  "Left
     arm x-ray of Hannibal Lecter.  Very rare.  Slightly used
     metal light box included."

     She backs up to the previous screen.  Last bid, "$7,200."
     Next increment, $100.  She types in "$10,000" and hits Enter.

     INT. SCI-FI COMICS - DAY

     Strange denizens - collectors - roam the shelves lined with
     plastic-sheathed science fiction comic books - browsing and
     humming - each in his own world.

     In truth, they're not really browsing; they're stealing
     glances at Starling, the only woman in the place, and the
     most beautiful one any of them has ever seen in real life.

     In truth, she isn't really browsing either.  She's stealing
     glances at the proprietor behind the glass-top, trading card-
     filled, counter.

                          CUSTOMER
               December you mean -

                          PROPRIETOR
               No, not December.  November.  Volume
               Four, Number Four.  Worst.  Issue.  Ever.

     The customer moves on.  Starling wanders over and several
     pairs of eyes wander with her.  A tape of the X-Files plays
     on a small television set at one end of the counter, which
     the proprietor pays more attention to than her.  Quietly -

                          STARLING
               I'm interested in Hannibal Lecter
               memorabilia.

     The man's head slowly turns to her with the most withering
     of looks.  She's the last person on earth who'd be interested
     in Hannibal Lecter memorabilia.

                          PROPRIETOR
               I don't handle Hannibal Lecter
               memorabilia.  Hannibal Lecter memorabilia
               - real Hannibal Lecter memorabilia -
               would have to be stolen.  I don't deal in
               stolen goods.  Try Sotheby's.

                          STARLING
               I'm confused.

                          PROPRIETOR
               You're a policeman, of course you're
               confused.

                          STARLING
               Not exactly.

                          PROPRIETOR
               Oh, all right.  Police woman.  I keep
               the politically-correct comics in the
               back.  By the toilet scrubber.

     She show him her identification.  Her FBI shield.  Some
     of the other customers see it, too, and - crushed - begin
     gliding toward the door.

                          STARLING
               I'm confused because I just paid you ten
               thousand dollars for an x-ray of Hannibal
               Lecter.  I don't want to wait for you to
               send it, I want to pick it up now.

     The dime drops.  Just a fleeting spark of realization.