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The Silence of the Lambsr The Silence of the Lambsr The Silence of the Lambsr To the memory of my father. If after the manner of men I have fought with beasts at Ephesus, what advantage hit me, if the dead rise not? Corinthians Need I look upon a death's head in a ring, that have one in my face? John Donne, “Devotions” The Silence of the Lambsr CHAPTER 1 Behavioral Science, the FBI section that deals with serial murder, is on the bottom floor of the Acad?emy building at Quantico, halfburied in the earth. Clarice Starling reached it flushed after a fast walk from Hogan's Alley on the firing range. She had grass in her hair and grass stains on her FBI Academy windbreaker from diving to the ground under fire in an arrest prob?lem on the range. No one was in the outer office, so she fluffed briefly by her reflection in the glass doors. She knew she could look all right without primping. Her hands smelled of gunsmoke, but there was no time to wash--- Section Chief Crawford's summons had said now. She found Jack Crawford alone in the cluttered suite of offices. He was standing at someone else's desk talk?ing on the telephone and she had a chance to look him over for the first time in a year. What she saw disturbed her. Normally, Crawford looked like a fit, middleaged engineer who might have paid his way through college playing baseball--- a crafty catcher, tough when he blocked the plate. Now he was thin, his shirt collar was too big, and he had dark puffs under his reddened eyes. Everyone who could read the papers knew Behavioral Science section was catching hell. Starling hoped Craw?ford wasn't on the juice. That seemed most unlikely here
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