Red Dragon/The Silence of the Lambs [antikvár]

Chapter One Will Graham sat Crawford down at a picnic table between the house and the ocean and gave him a glass of iced tea. Jack Crawford looked at the pleasant old house, saltsilvered wood in the clear Hght. 'I should have caught you in Marathon when you got off work/ he said. 'You don't want to talk about it here.' 'I don't want to talk about it anjrwhere. Jack. You've got to talk about it, so let's have it. Just don't get out any pictures. If you brought pictures, leave them in the briefcase - Molly and Willy will be back soon.' 'How much do you know?' 'What was in the Miami Herald and the Times,' Graham said. 'Two families killed in their houses a month apart. Birmingham and Atlanta. The circumstances were similar.' 'Not similar. The same.' 'How many confessions so far?' 'Eighty-six when 1 called in this afternoon,' Crawford said. 'Cranks. None of them knew details. He smashes the mirrors and uses the pieces. None of them knew that.' 'What else did you keep out of the papers?' 'He's blond, right-handed and really strong, wears a size-eleven shoe. He can tie a bowline. The prints are all smooth gloves.' 'You said that in public.' 'He's not too comfortable with locks,' Crawford said. 'Used a glass cutter and a suction cup to get in the house last time. Oh, and his blood's AB positive.' 'Somebody hurt him?' 'Not that we know of. We typed him from semen and saliva. He's a secretor.' Crawford looked out at the flat sea. 'Will, I want to ask you something. You saw this in the papers. The second one was all over the TV. Did you ever think about giving me a call?' 'No.' 'Why not?' 'There weren't many details at first on the one in Birmingham. It could have been anything - revenge, a relative.' 'But after the second one, you knew what it was.' 'Yeah. A psychopath. I didn't call you because 1 didn't want to. I know