Who: Will Graham and Bedelia du Maurier What: A very uncomfortable first meeting. Sort of. When: 6/11 Where: A coffee shop in Irvine Rating: PG
Will still wasn’t sleeping well. There had been more Dreams. More violence, more pain. Dreaming of a seizure had bolted him awake in the middle of the night to ensure he was in his right mind. Seizures were a symptom of encephalitis, as he well knew by now. He still couldn’t even look at meat.
He did his best to fill the void, with coffee and energy drinks. He was in line now at a coffee shop not far from the station, going to get a triple espresso before getting down to another gangland shooting scene.
Bedelia’s beloved Jaguar had gotten nicked by a valet while she’d had lunch with an old school mate in LA. It had irritated her, but she figured while it got fixed (because it wasn’t that bad, not really), she’d have a coffee and work on some consults she was doing for the hospital downtown.
After getting her latte, she sat down and took a sip. Her nose promptly wrinkled; the coffee was clearly burnt.
Will said thank you to the cashier, took his coffee and went looking for sugar. Annoyingly, there wasn’t one central bay with coffee additions - they were at each table. His eyes swept the room, trying to locate a full bowl.
As he looked, though, he caught sight of a face that was distinctly familiar. A woman, with impeccable blonde hair and an acquiline profile. She even held a pen the way he would expect Bedelia du Maurier to hold one.
He would later wonder what had made him do it; she didn’t know him from Adam, and even bringing up Hannibal’s name might be dicey, depending on their relationship - if any - here. But do it he did. Will marched up to the side of her table and spoke softly, but not in any way sounding afraid. “Pardon me, ma’am. May I temporarily borrow your sugar bowl?”
The blonde woman looked up, setting down her Mont Blanc and nodding. “Of course. I’m sorry there wasn’t one on your table as there should’ve been.” She smiled as she handed him the bowl, leaning forward and lowering her tone to a conspiratorial stage whisper. “The coffee’s nothing to write home about either.”
Will recognized that voice. It was all he could do to keep it together - Dr. du Maurier today, who tomorrow? Abel Gideon? Georgia? Jack Crawford?
He might have taken a moment to collect himself, but he wasn’t sure. “I agree, but it does the job.” He managed as polite a smile as he could, which probably wasn’t very. “I’m afraid when you’re a detective, coffee becomes an integral part of your life blood.”
“Really? Then I owe you a debt of thanks on behalf of the county’s citizenry. Please, have a seat, Detective.” Bedelia smiled, moving her papers a bit so that Will could settle if he liked. She’d seen the way his shoulders tensed for half a moment; was his caseload why he was so rattled? Or was it her?
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to trouble you. You look busy.” He didn’t want to put her out. Especially if things went bad somehow, he wanted her on his side, not Hannibal’s. Maybe he was worrying too much, but somehow, he didn’t think so.
“It’s quite all right, I assure you. I’m waiting on some car repair, so I’ve plenty of time.” She put the papers back into their folders and capped her pen. “May I ask what sort of detective you are?”
“Homicide,” Will replied, sitting down as politely as he could. He felt like he had to be on his best behavior, like this was his third grade teacher. And yet, he had to be calm. “I certainly hope the car isn’t too damaged. It’s difficult to drive here.”
“You must be very bright, then.” She smiled at him, a tiny thing, but still difficult to win. “It’s not too damaged, but my car is one of my few material attachments. I like to keep it in good condition.” She offered him her hand. “I’m Bedelia Du Maurier, I apologize for not introducing myself until now.”
It took work not to simply say I know. “Will Graham.” He didn’t shake her hand, instead taking it and inclining his head over it. Handshakes were difficult; it was almost impossible to gage how much pressure or how long to hold it. So he simply avoided the question.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Detective Graham.” Bedelia took another sip of her awful coffee, adding another sugar to mask the burnt taste. “Are you off work or simply getting lunch?”
“Lunch. I should be en route to a scene, but I can take a bit of time.” Will smiled faintly. “The timetable is fairly loose in those kinds of things.” He hadn’t wanted to be crude, but the way he’d originally thought of it was the dead man isn’t going anywhere.
Bedelia chuckled to herself. “So long as the scene is protected, your victim will remain there, I expect.”
“Yes, I agree.” Will managed a faint smile. “And while the food here is subpar, it’s still food.” And it might kick-start his brain a little. Ever since his little fainting fit at work he’d tried to keep noticing what he’d eaten. If anything.
“Food is rather important to one’s cognitive processes,” Bedelia smiled. “You look like the sort to forget sometimes.”
“Guilty.” There went that smile again. He’d swear she knew him, if he didn’t know it was impossible. “Luckily I have a girlfriend who doesn’t mind looking after me.” As much as he let her. “I also have a friend who is a pronounced gastronome; Hannibal has opened my eyes to a few foods that I confess I never would have tried otherwise.” True, but he also wanted to see if she knew him. He’d seen that sometimes people knew those they shared dream worlds with in other contexts.
“Hannibal? Hannibal Lecter, by any chance?” Bedelia’s cheeks went pink. “If it’s the same Hannibal Lecter that once courted me, that would be a huge coincidence.”
Courted? They hadn’t given that impression in the dream world - if anything, Hannibal had come off as being somewhat uninterested in any kind of romantic relationship there. Will blinked. “That is his last name, yes. A psychiatrist; he practices in Orange and Los Angeles County, or so I understand.”
Chuckling, Bedelia leaned back. “Then it truly is a small world. We dated while I was doing my doctorate work in Massachusetts.”
Well, that was frankly disturbing. And he wondered how Abigail might take that news. “How odd. Would it bother you if I were to mention you to him the next time we meet?” There would be more meetings with Hannibal, of course.
“Of course not. I’d be delighted to rekindle our friendship.” Bedelia hadn’t really thought things would go anywhere with Hannibal; he was married to himself first. She wondered if he knew he was a bit of a narcissist.
“I may mention that I made your acquaintance, then.” Will smiled a little more easily, or at least he tried. He finally put more sugar in his cooling coffee, sitting back. “This place has an odd way of bringing people together, or so it seems. I’ve made new friends since moving here.”
“I’m sure it’s the allure of having a major city close by. I needed a change of scenery after losing my mother, and I thought some sunshine might do me a bit of good.” She looked at Will, taking in how he sat. “I can see why Hannibal likes you. You’re perceptive.”
“My sympathies. My own mother passed away about a year ago, and it precipitated my own move out here.” Will did perk up a bit when she complimented him, though. “Oh? Why do you say that, Doctor?”
“Homicide detectives generally aren’t the most obtuse sort of people. And you were surprised to find that Hannibal and I had dated. I still find myself surprised by it, and I was there.” She could joke.
Will did smile politely. “Dr. Lecter is devoted to his work,” he said, not wanting to be too free with smearing the man. Though he did feel the need to bring up one point. “I’m sure Abigail, his adopted daughter, would be amused to hear stories of what he was like when he was younger.”
Perfectly groomed brows rose once more. “He has a daughter now? Are you sure we’re speaking about the same Hannibal Lecter?”
“The way I understood it, Abigail’s father was a friend of his, and when he passed away, Hannibal offered to take Abigail in out of duty to his late friend.” Will was beginning to suspect that subconsciously (or consciously) Hannibal might have had other motives, but it was impossible to prove for now. “She’s eighteen, so she doesn’t take very much looking after at this point.”
“Hannibal does have a rather overextended sense of duty. When he gives someone his word, it’s as good as done.” It made more sense to Bedelia, and was far less alarming than the idea of him just up and adopting an infant. “He’s quite noble.”
It was hard to smile at that, frankly. Will kept seeing the inside of the MRI machine, and hearing Hannibal’s polite inquiries into his mind. It was more frightening than he’d anticipated.
He shook himself out of a mini-fog. “Dr. Lecter has quite a lot of good points,” Will finally said. “He’s certainly been of help to me.”
She noticed that he seemed distracted, and wondered where that had come from. Detective Graham was fascinating; it was becoming abundantly clear why Hannibal was friends with him.
Will drank more coffee, willing the caffeine through him. “I will certainly give him your best, Doctor, but I should probably get going. It’s been nice to meet you, ma’am.”
“You as well, Detective Graham. I do hope we will meet again.” She shook his hand once more, making a mental note to look both him and Hannibal up when she returned to her office.