Charlie couldn't help feeling a little guilty for even bringing it up. He hadn't meant to upset Ted anymore than the man seemed to be currently. His lips pursed as he tried to think of a good answer, but he wasn't going to lie if he could help it.
"He's not from any book I ever read, and he doesn't look like Anthony Hopkins. Then again," small squint, "I haven't read the books. Don't think I knew there were books. I should have known there were, I guess. It would make for interesting reading maybe, to get into his mind, but I only know about the movie. Or movies? There were movies. This is a kid. Kid Lecter. Jennifer says that it's him, but I don't think he's going to eat anyone."
Charlie would have to read if there were books, but he wondered if he really wanted to know about Lecter, know him in that way. It seemed weird, yet Charlie liked the idea that they could learn about criminals from books. It was like reading their jackets.
"This crime is different, but I don't think you should worry about it, Ted. I don't think we're here to be hurt." Much.