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The newspapers, files and floppy disks in Starling's small office were on the verge of collapse. She applied for more space, but she couldn't get an answer. Enough. She broke the pot and commandeered a large basement at Quantico. That room was supposed to be a darkroom for the behavioral science division. No windows, but lots of shelves. It was originally built for a darkroom, so there are double shades, but no doors. An unknown neighbor had printed a sign in italics for the office, Hannibal Room, and nailed it to the entrance where she hung the curtain. She was afraid of losing the house, so she hung the sign in the house. Almost immediately, she found a trove of useful personal data in Columbia's criminal trial library. There they maintained a special room for Hannibal Lecter, where they had the original medical and psychological counseling files of Dr. Lecter, transcripts of interrogations, and copies of the civil case against him. The first time Starling went there,metal trim manufacturers, the custodian kept her waiting for 45 minutes to find the key to Lecter's room, but the key was not found. The second time she went, she found that the person in charge was an indifferent graduate student, and that the materials were not catalogued. Starling is still impatient in her thirties. With the support of Chief Jack Crawford at the U.S. Attorney's office, she obtained a court order to put the university's collection in her basement at Quantico,tile trim manufacturers, where a couple of federal officers had brought it to her in a van. Just as she feared, the court's order caused a great uproar, which finally led to Krendler. It took Starling two long weeks to sort out most of the library materials at her temporary Lecter Center. Late on Friday afternoon, she washed the dust and dirt from her face and hands, turned off the light, and sat down on the floor in the corner of the room, staring at the shelves of books and papers. She probably dozed off for a while. A smell awakened her and made her realize that she was not alone. That's the smell of shoe polish. The room was half dark, and Assistant Deputy Inspector General Paul Krendler moved slowly around the bookshelves, looking at books and pictures. He did not knock, stainless tile trim ,stainless steel edge trim, there was no door to knock on, and Krendler did not like to knock, especially on the door of his subordinates. He had come to Quantico in the basement to look up to her. On one wall of the room were Lecter's papers from Italy, and a large photograph of the outflow of Rinaldo Pazzi's viscera hanging from the window of the Palazzo Vecchio. On the opposite wall is Lecter's crime in the United States, dominated by a large photograph of the police department, a bowhunter Lecter killed years ago, his body hanging on a poster, his body poked with wounds according to the medieval illustration of "The Wounded Man". On the shelves are a large number of case documents and civil petitions filed by the victim's family accusing Lecter of unlawful killing. Dr. Lecter's private medical books are arranged as they were in his counseling office, after Starling examined police photos of Lecter's office with a magnifying glass. On the wall was a light box with X-rays of Dr. Lecter's skull and neck bones. This is where most of the light comes from in this dark room. Another light came from a computer workstation on a desk in the corner of the room. The theme of the screen is "dangerous creatures". The computer whines twice from time to time. Stacked beside the computer was the information that Starling had obtained, the pieces of paper, receipts and classified bills that she had painstakingly collected. These things reveal the private life of Dr. Lecter in Italy and in the United States before he was sent to an insane asylum, and can be used as a list of his favorite items for the time being. Starling used a scanner platform as a table to put together the remnants of Dr. Lecter's Baltimore home — China, silver, crystal glassware, a snow-white tablecloth and a candlestick — four square feet of elegant interest against the strange things hanging in the room. Krendler picked up the tankard and flicked it with his fingernail. Krendler never touched the body of a criminal, never wrestled with a criminal on the ground. He saw Dr. Lecter as a media bogeyman and an opportunity. He could see that Dr. Lecter's own picture after his death was on display with these things in the FBI Museum's exhibit. He could see the huge value of this in the campaign. Krendler brought his nose close to the X-ray profile of the doctor's massive skull. Starling spoke to him, startled him, and put the grease on his nose on the X-ray. Can I help you, Mr. Krendler? "Why are you sitting in the dark?" "I'm thinking, Mr. Krendler." "People on Capitol Hill want to know what we're doing on the Lecter case." "This is what we do." "Give me a brief report and let me keep up with the pace." "You'd better go to Mr. Crawford." "Where is Crawford?" "Mr. Crawford has gone to court." "I think he's going to lose. Do you feel that way?" "No, sir, I have not." What are you doing here? After you removed these from the university library, we got a complaint from them. It could have been done more thoughtfully. "We gathered all the material we could get from Dr. Lecter here.". Physical objects and documents have been brought. The weapon is in the firearms room, but we have a replica. We have all the personal papers he left behind. "What is the purpose?"? Do you want to catch criminals or publish books? Krendler paused to incorporate the rhyming epigram into his lexicon. Suppose a senior Republican judicial malpractice official were to ask me, "What are you, Agent Starling, doing to get Hannibal Lecter?" ① The original text rhymes. Starling turned on the light. She could see that Krendler's coat was still expensive, while his shirt and tie were cheap, with hairy wrist bones peeking out of the sleeves. Starling looked through the wall, looked through the wall,china tile trim, looked forever, and for a moment she calmed down, allowing herself to see Krendler as a lesson at the Academy. jecatrims.com

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