Silence Of The Lambs Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Silence Of The Lambs script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Clarice Starling and Hannibal Lecter movie.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Silence Of The Lambs. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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Silence Of The Lambs Script




            Crawford wants to see you in his office.

            Thank you, sir.

            - Clarice. - Hey.

            You looking for Crawford? He should be back in a minute. Wait in his office.


            - Clarice M. Good morning. - Morning, Mr Crawford.

            Sorry to pull you off the course at such short notice.

            Your instructors tell me you're doing well.

            I hope so. They haven't posted any grades yet.

            A job's come up and I thought about you.

            Not a job, really. More of an interesting errand. Sit down.

            Yes, sir.

            I remember you from my seminar at UVA. You grilled me pretty hard, as I recall,

            on the Bureau's civil rights record in the Hoover years. I gave you an A.

            A-minus, sir.

            Double major: psych and criminology. Graduated magna.

            Summer internships at the Reitzinger Clinic.

            It says, when you graduate, you wanna work for me in Behavioural Science.

            Yes, very much, sir. Very much.

            We're interviewing all serial killers now in custody for a psycho-behavioural profile.

            Could be a real help in unsolved cases.

            Most of them have been happy to talk to us.

            - Do you spook easily, Starling? - Not yet, sir.

            See, the one we want most refuses to cooperate.

            I want you to go after him again today in the asylum.

             - Who's the subject? - The psychiatrist, Hannibal Lecter.

              Hannibal the Cannibal.

              I don't expect him to talk to you.

              But I have to be able to say we tried.

              So if he won't cooperate, I want just straight reporting.

              How does he look? How does his cell look? ls he sketching, drawing?

              If he is, what's he sketching?

              Here's a dossier on Lecter.

              A copy of our questionnaire and a special ID for you.

              Have your memo on my desk by      Wednesday.


              Excuse me, sir, but why the urgency? Lecter's been in prison for so many years.

              Is there some connection between him and Buffalo Bill maybe?

              I wish there were. Now, I want your full attention, Starling.

              - Yes, sir. - Be very careful with Hannibal Lecter.

              Dr Chilton at the asylum will go over all the physical procedures used with him.

              Do not deviate from them for any reason whatsoever.

              And you're to tell him nothing personal.

              Believe me, you don't want Hannibal Lecter inside your head.

              Just do your job, but never forget what he is.

              And what is that?

              Oh, he's a monster. A pure psychopath.

              So rare to capture one alive.

              From a research point of view, Lecter is our most prized asset.

              We get a lot of detectives here, but I can't ever remember one as attractive.

              Will you be in Baltimore overnight?

              Because this can be quite a fun town if you have the right guide.

              I'm sure this is a great town, Dr Chilton,

              but my instructions are to talk to Dr Lecter and report back this afternoon.

              I see. Well, let's make this quick, then.

              We've tried to study him, but he's much too sophisticated for the standard tests.

              Oh, my, does he hate us!

              He thinks I'm his nemesis.

              Crawford's very clever, isn't he, using you?

              - What do you mean, sir? - A pretty, young woman to turn him on.

              I don't believe Lecter's seen a woman in eight years.

              And are you ever his taste! So to speak.

              I graduated from UVA, Doctor. It's not a charm school.

              Good. Then you should be able to remember the rules.

              Do not touch or approach the glass. You pass him nothing but soft paper.

              No pencils or pens. No staples or paperclips in his paper.

              Use the sliding food carrier. If he attempts to pass you anything, do not accept it.

              - Do you understand me? - Yes, I understand, sir.

              I'm going to show you why we insist on such precautions.

              On July        , he complained of chest pains and was taken to the dispensary.

              His restraints were removed for an EKG.

              When the nurse leaned over him, he did this to her.

              The doctors managed to reset her jaw, more or less, save one of her eyes.

              His pulse never got above    even when he ate her tongue.

              - I keep him in here. - Dr Chilton.

              If Lecter feels that you're his enemy,

              then maybe we'll have more luck if I go in by myself. What do you think?

              You might have suggested this in my office and saved me the time.

              Yes, sir, but then I would have missed the pleasure of your company, sir.

              When she's finished, bring her out.

              Hi, I'm Barney. He told you, don't get near the glass?

              Yes, he did. Clarice Starling.

              Nice to meet you, Clarice. You can hang your coat up there if you like.

              Thank you. I will.

              He's past the others, the last cell.

              You keep to the right.

              - I put out a chair for you. - That's very good. Thank you.

              I'll be watchin'. You'll do fine.


              I can smell your cunt!

              - Good morning. - Dr Lecter, my name is Clarice Starling.

              May I speak with you?

              You're one of Jack Crawford's, aren't you?

              - I am, yes. - May I see your credentials?


              Closer, please.


              That expires in one week. You're not real FBl, are you?

              I'm still in training at the academy.

              Jack Crawford sent a trainee to me?

              Yes, I'm a student. I'm here to learn from you.

              Maybe you can decide whether or not I'm qualified enough to do that.

              That is rather slippery of you, Agent Starling.

              Sit, please.

              Now then, tell me. What did Miggs say to you?

              Multiple Miggs in the next cell.

              He hissed at you. What did he say?

              He said "I can smell your cunt."

              I see.

              I myself cannot.

              You use Evyan skin cream.

              And sometimes you wear L'Air du Temps.

              But not today.

              Did you do all these drawings, Doctor?

              That is the Duomo seen from the Belvedere.

              - Do you know Florence? - All that detail just from memory, sir?

              Memory, Agent Starling, is what I have instead of a view.

              Well, perhaps you'd care to lend us your view on this questionnaire, sir.

              Oh, no, no, no, no.

              You were doing fine. You had been courteous and receptive to courtesy.

              You had established trust, with the embarrassing truth about Miggs.

              And now this ham-handed segue into your questionnaire.

              - It won't do. - I'm only asking you to look at this.

              Either you will or you won't.

              Yeah. Jack Crawford must be very busy indeed

              if he's recruiting help from the student body.

              Busy hunting that new one: Buffalo Bill.

              What a naughty boy he is.

              Do you know why he's called Buffalo Bill?

              Please tell me. The newspapers won't say.

              It started as a bad joke in Kansas City Homicide.

              They said "This one likes to skin his humps."

              Why do you think he removes their skins, Agent Starling?

              Thrill me with your acumen.

              It excites him. Most serial killers keep some sort of trophies from their victims.

              - I didn't. - No. No, you ate yours.

              You send that through now.

              Oh, Agent Starling, you think you can dissect me with this blunt little tool?

              No. I thought that your knowledge...

              You're so ambitious, aren't you?

              Do you know what you look like, with your good bag and your cheap shoes?

              You look like a rube.

              A well-scrubbed, hustling rube, with a little taste.

              Good nutrition's given you length of bone,

              but you're not more than one generation from poor white trash, are you?

              And that accent you've tried so desperately to shed: pure West Virginia.

              What is your father, dear? ls he a coal miner? Does he stink of the lamp?

              How quickly the boys found you.

              All those tedious, sticky fumblings in the back seats of cars,

              while you could only dream of getting out, getting anywhere,

              getting all the way to the FBl.

              You see a lot, Doctor.

              But are you strong enough to point that high-powered perception at yourself?

              What about it? Why don't you look at yourself and write down what you see?

              Or maybe you're afraid to.

              A census taker once tried to test me.

              I ate his liver with some fava beans

              and a nice Chianti.

              You fly back to school now, little Starling.

              Fly, fly, fly.

              I bit my wrist so I can die.

              Look at the blood!

              - Got ya! - Miggs, you stupid fuck!

              - I'm gonna kill him! - Agent Starling! Come back!

              Agent Starling! Agent Starling! I would not have had that happen to you.

              - Discourtesy is unspeakably ugly. - Then do this test.

              No, but I'll give you a chance for what you love most.

              - And what is that? - Advancement. Listen carefully.

              Look deep within yourself, Clarice Starling.

              Go seek out Miss Mofet, an old patient of mine. M-O-F-E-T.

              I don't think Miggs could manage again so soon, even though he is crazy. Go!

              Hey, Bill.

              - Daddy! - Hey, Clarice.

              - Did you get any bad guys today, Daddy? - No, angel. They all got away today.

              FBl. Hands up. Don't move.

              Turn around. Hands behind your back. Thumbs up.

              You're dead, Starling.

              Johnson, good entry, good command. Starling, where's your danger area?

              - The corner. - Did you check?

              - No. - That's why you're dead.


                  . Breaking doors or windows

              to enter or exit.

              Rule    .

              - Clarice, phone. It's the guru. - Crawford? Thanks, Ardelia.

              - Starling? - Sir?

              Miggs is dead.



              They heard Lecter whispering to him all afternoon and Miggs crying.

              They found him at bed check. He'd swallowed his own tongue.

              - Starling? - Yeah. I'm still here, sir.

              I just... I don't know how to feel about this.

              You don't have to feel any way about it. Lecter did it to amuse himself.

              Look, I know it got ugly today, but you mentioned a name at the end: Mofet.

              Any follow-up on her?

              Lecter altered or destroyed most of his patients' histories,

              so there's no record of anyone named Mofet, but

              I thought the "yourself" reference was too hokey for Lecter,

              so I figured he's from Baltimore and I looked in the phone book

              and there's a "Your Self" storage facility right outside of downtown Baltimore, sir.

              Unit    was leased for ten years, pre-paid in full.

              The contract is in the name of a Miss Hester Mofet.

              So nobody's been in here since     ?

              Not to my knowledge.

              Privacy is a great concern to my customers.

              Yes. I won't disturb anything, I promise. I'll be outta here before you know it.

              - May I help you? - Yes, actually.

              - It's stuck. - We could return tomorrow with my son.

              What about him?

              I would ask my driver to help you, but he detests physical labour.

              Right. Well, you just stay here. I'll be back in one minute.

              It's stuck. Hand me that flashlight, sir.

              If this door should fall down or anything else,

              this is the number for our Baltimore field office.

              Now they know that you're with me. Call them if anything should happen.

              Yes, Miss Starling.

              Clarice. They're waiting for you. Watch your step.

              Hester Mofet. It's an anagram, isn't it, Doctor?

              Hester Mofet. "The rest of me."

              "Miss the rest of me." Meaning that you rented that garage?

              - Thank you. - Your bleeding has stopped.

              How did you...?

              It's nothing. It was just a scratch.

              Dr Lecter, whose head is in that bottle?

              Why don't you ask me about Buffalo Bill?

              - Do you know something about him? - I might if I saw the case file.

              - You could get that for me. - Why don't we talk about Miss Mofet?

              You wanted me to find him.

              His real name is Benjamin Raspail, a former patient of mine,

              whose romantic attachments ran to, shall we say, the exotic.

              I did not kill him, merely tucked him away very much as I found him,

              after he'd missed three appointments.

              - If you didn't kill him, then who did, sir? - Who can say? Best thing for him, really.

              His therapy was going nowhere.

              His dress, make-up...

              - Raspail was a transvestite? - In life? Oh, no.

              Garden-variety manic-depressive. Tedious, very tedious.

              I now just think of him as a kind of experiment.

              A fledgling killer's first effort at transformation.

              How did you feel when you saw him, Clarice?

              Scared at first, then exhilarated.

              Jack Crawford is helping your career. Apparently he likes you and you like him.

              I never thought about it.

              Do you think Jack Crawford wants you, sexually?

              True, he is much older, but do you think he visualises scenarios, exchanges,

              fucking you?

              That doesn't interest me and, frankly, it's the sort of thing that Miggs would say.

              Not any more.

              Thank you, Barney.

              What happened to your drawings?

              Punishment, you see, for Miggs. Just like that gospel programme.

              When you leave, they'll turn the volume way up.

              Dr Chilton does enjoy his petty torments.

              What did you mean by "transformation", Doctor?

              I've been in this room for eight years now, Clarice.

              I know they will never ever let me out while I'm alive.

              What I want is a view.

              I want a window where I can see a tree, or even water.

              I want to be in a federal institution far away from Dr Chilton.

              What did you mean by "fledgling killer"? Are you saying that he's killed again?

              I'm offering you a psychological profile of Buffalo Bill, based on the case evidence.

              I'll help you catch him, Clarice.

              You know who he is, don't you?

              Tell me who decapitated your patient, Doctor.

              All good things to those who wait.

              I've waited, Clarice, but how long can you and old Jackie Boy wait?

              Our little Billy must already be searching for that next special lady.

              MEMPHIS, TN

              Hey, little cheeper.

              I'll be right there.

              Can I help you with that?

              - Would you? - Sure.

              - Thank you. - You look kinda handicapped.

              Yeah. I got it this far. I just can't get it up in the truck by myself.

              - Here. Grab this. - OK.

              Just set it down. That's good.

              Get in the truck. I wanna push it all the way up.

              I really appreciate this. Thank you. Thank you.

              Push it all the way back.

              - Is this good? - Yeah.

              - That's great. - OK.

              Say, are you about a size   ?



              Oh, good.



              Outside. Let's go.

              Cindy. In the ring for Starling. Let's go.


              Pack your field gear. You're going with Crawford.

              - Where? - They found a girl's body.

              Been in the water a week. It's a Buffalo Bill situation.

              CLAY COUNTY, W VA

              He keeps them alive for three days. We don't know why.

              No evidence of rape or physical abuse prior to death.

              All the mutilation you see there is postmortem.

              OK, three days. Then he shoots them,

              skins them and dumps them, each body in a different river.

              The water leaves us no trace evidence of any kind.

              That's Fredrica Bimmel, the first one.

              Her body was the only one he took the trouble to weight down,

              so actually she was the third girl found.

              After her, he got lazy.

              OK, let's see.

              Circles where the girls were abducted. Arrows where their bodies were found.

              This new one today washed up here. Elk River, West Virginia.

              Look at him, Starling. Tell me what you see.

              He's a white male. Serial killers tend to hunt within their own ethnic groups.

              He's not a drifter. He's got his own house somewhere, not an apartment.

              - Why? - What he does with them takes privacy.

              He's in his thirties or forties. He's got real physical strength,

              combined with an older man's self-control.

              He's cautious, precise...

              And he's never impulsive. He'll never stop.

              Why not?

              Got a real taste for it now and he's getting better at his work.

              Not bad, Starling. Questions?

              Yes, sir. You haven't mentioned anything about the information in my report

              or Dr Lecter's offer, sir.

              - I'm considering it. - That's why you sent me in there, isn't it?

              To get his help on Buffalo Bill, sir?

              Well, if that was the case, then I just wish I was in on it, that's all.

              If I'd sent you in with an actual agenda, Lecter would have known it instantly.

              He would have toyed with you then turned to stone.

              Excuse me, Sheriff Perkins. These are the FBI people.

              Sheriff Perkins - Jack Crawford, FBl. Special Agent Terry.

              Agent Starling. We appreciate being invited into your jurisdiction.

              I didn't call you. That was the state attorney's office.

              - We'll extend you every courtesy, but... - Sheriff.

              This type of sex crime has certain aspects I'd just as soon discuss in private.

              Know what I mean?

              - Oscar, fetch Dr Akins from the chapel. - Starling, we're back here.

              Tell Lamar to come on when he's finished playing his music.

              Yeah, we'll be sending in a minute.

              I need a six-way linkup.

              Chicago, Detroit...


              Excuse me. Excuse me, gentlemen. You officers and gentlemen,

              Iisten here now. There's things we need to do for her.

              I know that y'all brought her this far and her folks would thank you if they could

              for your kindness and your sensitivity.

              But now please go on now and let us take care of her.

              Go on now.

              Thank you.

              Thank you.

              OK, good.

              Yeah, that's right. Elk River.

              Stand by for transmission.


              Doctor, Lamar, let's take a look at her.

              OK, Starling.


              Star-shaped contact entrance wound over the sternum.

              A muzzle stamp at the top.

              Wrongful death.

              She'll have to go to the state pathologist at Claxton.

              Well, I'd better get back to that service. Lamar'll help you.

              Lord Almighty.

              What else do you see, Starling?

              Well, she's not local.

              Her ears are pierced three times and there's glitter nail polish.

              That looks like town to me.

              Two of her fingernails are broken off and there's dirt or grit under them.

              It looks like she's tried to claw her way through something.

              Ray, get pictures of her teeth. We'll fax 'em for Missing Persons.

              Let's do another.

              She's got something in her throat.

              When a body comes out of the water, lots of times there's leaves in the mouth.

              What is that? Some kind of seed pod?

              No, sir. That's a bug cocoon.

              There's no way that could get way down in there.

              Not unless somebody shoved it in there.

              She'll be easier to print when we turn her over. Lamar, give me a hand.

              Yes, sir. I will.

              - Oh, Jack. What do you make of these? - Different configuration than the others.

              - Get close-ups. - The victim's skin removed,

              this time in two large diamond-shaped sections above the buttocks.

              Exit wound level with the second or the third thoracic vertebrae,

              six inches from the right shoulder blade.

              Starling, when I told that sheriff we shouldn't talk in front of a woman,

              that really burned you, didn't it?

              It was just smoke, Starling. I had to get rid of him.

              It matters, Mr Crawford. Cops look at you to see how to act.

              - It matters. - Point taken.

              Ligature marks found around the wrists, not around the ankles.

              This would indicate that the skinning was postmortem.

              - Time, Pilch. My move. - You lured him with produce.

              Tough noogies. It's still my turn.

              Nice and slow, baby.

              If the beetle moves one of your men, does that still count?

              Course it counts. How do you play?

              Agent Starling?

              Where the heck did this come from? It's practically mush.

              It was found behind the soft palate of a murder victim in the Elk River.

              - It's Buffalo Bill, isn't it? - I can't tell you any more.

              - We heard about it on the radio. - This is a clue from a real murder case?

              - Cool. - Just ignore him. He's not a PhD.

              Sphingid ceratomia, maybe.

              Boy, he's a big sucker.

              OK. Let's check morphology.

              What do you do when you're not detecting, Agent Starling?

              I try to be a student, Dr Pilcher.

              Ever go out for cheeseburgers and beer?

              The amusing house wine?

              Are you hitting on me, Doctor?


              - Gotcha. - What have you got?

              Agent Starling, meet Mr Acherontia styx.


              Better known to his friends as the death's-head moth.

              - Where does it come from? - It's strange. They only live in Asia.

              Here they'd have to be raised from imported eggs.

              Somebody grew this guy. Fed him honey and nightshade, kept him warm.

              Somebody loved him.

              Where are you?

              Let me outta here!

              Help me!


              Please help me.


              Why won't you answer me? Please!

              - Good morning. I'm Donna Feruchi. - I'm Gene Cassel with sports.

              And I'm Tim Langhorn. Our top story for this morning.:

              Catherine Martin, the   -year-old daughter of Senator Ruth Martin,

              Iisted as missing, is now believed to have been kidnapped

              by the serial killer known only as Buffalo Bill.

              Police indicate that the girl's blouse has been identified,

              sliced up the back, in what has become a grim, all-too-familiar calling card.

              Young Catherine Martin is the only daughter of Senator Ruth Martin,

              the Republican senator from Tennessee.

              Her kidnapping is not considered to be politically motivated,

              but it has stirred the government to its highest levels.

              Reached for comment on the ski slopes of Vermont, the president is said to be,

              and I quote, "intensely concerned".

              Just moments ago Senator Martin taped this dramatic personal plea.

              I'm speaking now to the person who is holding my daughter.

              Catherine is very gentle and kind.

              Talk to her and you'll see.

              You have the power. You are in charge.

              I know you can feel love and compassion.

              You have a wonderful chance to show the whole world

              that you can be merciful as well as strong,

              that you're big enough to treat Catherine better than the world has treated you.

              You have that power.


              My daughter is Catherine.

              Boy, that's smart. Jesus, that's really smart.

              She keeps repeating the name.

              If he sees Catherine as a person and not just an object, it's harder to tear her up.

              Release my little girl.

              You're coming into my hospital to conduct an interview

              and refusing to share information with me for the third time.

              Sir, I told you, this is just a routine follow-up on the Raspail case.

              - He is my patient. I have rights. - I understand that, sir.

              Look, I am not just some turnkey, Miss Starling.

              This is the number for the US attorney's office.

              Either you discuss this with him or you let me do my job, do you understand?

              If your profile helps us catch Buffalo Bill in time to save Catherine Martin,

              the senator promises you a transfer

              to the VA hospital at Oneida Park, New York, with a view of the woods nearby.

              Maximum security still applies, of course.

              You'd have reasonable access to books.

              Best of all, though,

              one week of the year, you get to leave the hospital

              and go here.

              Plum lsland.

              Every day of that week you may walk on the beach, you may swim in the ocean,

              for up to one hour, under SWAT team surveillance, of course.

              And there you have it.

              A copy of the Buffalo Bill case file.

              A copy of the senator's offer.

              This offer is non-negotiable and final.

              Catherine Martin dies, you get nothing.

              "Plum lsland Animal Disease Research Centre."

              Sounds charming.

              That's only a part of the island. There's a very nice beach.

              - Terns nest there. There's beautiful... - Terns?

              If I help you, Clarice, it will be "turns" with us too.

              Quid pro quo. I tell you things, you tell me things.

              Not about this case, though. About yourself.

              Quid pro quo. Yes or no?

              Yes or no, Clarice? Poor little Catherine is waiting.

              Go, Doctor.

              What is your worst memory of childhood?

              The death of my father.

              Tell me about it and don't lie, or I'll know.

              He was a town marshal.

              One night he surprised two burglars

              coming out the back of a drugstore.

              They shot him.

              Was he killed outright?

              No, he was very strong. He lasted more than a month.

              My mother died when I was very young.

              My father had become the whole world to me, and, when he left me, I had nothing.

              I was ten years old.

              You're very frank, Clarice.

              I think it would be quite something to know you in private life.

              Quid pro quo, Doctor.

              So tell me about Miss West Virginia. Was she a large girl?

              - Yes. - Big through the hips? Roomy?

              - They all were. - What else?

              She had an object deliberately inserted into her throat.

              Now, that hasn't been made public yet. We don't know what it means.

              Was it a butterfly?

              Yes. A moth.

              Just like the one we found in Benjamin Raspail's head an hour ago.

              Why does he place them there, Doctor?

              The significance of the moth is change.

              Caterpillar into chrysalis, or pupa,

              and from thence into beauty.

              Our Billy wants to change, too.

              There's no correlation between transsexualism and violence.

              - Transsexuals are very passive. - Clever girl.

              You're so close to the way you're gonna catch him, do you realise that?

              No. Tell me why.

              After your father's murder you were orphaned. What happened next?

              I don't imagine the answer is on those second-rate shoes, Clarice.

              I lived with my mother's cousin and her husband in Montana. They had a ranch.

              - Was it a cattle ranch? - Sheep and horses.

              - How long did you live there? - Two months.

              - Why so briefly? - I ran away.

              Why, Clarice? Did the rancher make you perform fellatio?

              Did he sodomise you?

              No. He was a very decent man.

              Quid pro quo, Doctor.

              Billy is not a real transsexual. But he thinks he is. He tries to be.

              He's tried to be a lot of things, I expect.

              You said that I was very close to the way we would catch him. What did you mean?

              There are three centres for transsexual surgery: Johns Hopkins,

              the University of Minnesota and Columbus Medical Centre.

              I wouldn't be surprised if Billy had applied for sex reassignment at all of them

              and been rejected.

              On what basis would they reject him?

              Look for severe childhood disturbances associated with violence.

              Our Billy wasn't born a criminal, Clarice.

              He was made one through years of systematic abuse.

              Billy hates his own identity, you see,

              and he thinks that makes him a transsexual.

              But his pathology is a thousand times more savage

              and more terrifying.

              It rubs the lotion on its skin. It does this whenever it's told.

              Mister, my family'll pay cash. Whatever ransom you're asking for, they'll pay it.

              It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again.

              Yes, it will, Precious. It will get the hose.

              OK, OK.

              Mister, if you let me go, I won't press charges, I promise.

              See, my mom is a real important woman.

              I guess you already know that.

              Now it places the lotion in the basket.



              I wanna go home, please!

              It places the lotion in the basket.

              I wanna see my mommy!


              I wanna see my...

              I wanna see my mommy.

              Put the fucking lotion in the basket!

              You still think you're gonna walk on some beach and see the birdies?

              I don't think so.

              I called Senator Ruth Martin.

              She never heard of any deal with you.

              They scammed you, Hannibal.

              Stand outside.

              And shut the door.

              There never was a deal with Senator Martin, but there is now.

              I designed it. Of course, I worked in a few conditions for my own benefit as well.

              Identify Buffalo Bill by name and, if the girl is found in time,

              Senator Martin will have you transferred to the state prison in Tennessee.

              Answer me, Hannibal.

              You answer me now or, by God, you'll never leave this cell.

              Who is Buffalo Bill?

              His first name is Louis.

              I'll tell the rest to the senator herself, but only in Tennessee.

              And I have a few conditions of my own.

              Clean him up and get him ready to go.

              Jack, Hannibal Lecter's being transferred to Memphis.


              Did you have a trainee make a phoney offer to Lecter in the senator's name?

              Yeah, I rolled the dice. I had to.

              Well, she's mad as hell, Jack. Paul Krendler's over here from Justice.

              She's asking him to take over in Memphis.


              Welcome to Memphis. I'm Lieutenant Boyle. This is Sergeant Patrick.

              We'll treat you as good as you treat us.

              You be a gentleman, you're gonna get three hots and a cot.

              Sir. You sign right here, we'll have us a legal transfer.


              Here, sir. Use mine.

              Senator Martin, Dr Hannibal Lecter.

              Dr Lecter, I brought an affidavit guaranteeing your new rights.

              You'll wanna read it before I sign.

              I won't waste your time or Catherine's time, bargaining for petty privileges.

              Clarice Starling and that awful Jack Crawford have wasted far too much time.

              I only pray they haven't doomed the poor girl.

              Let me help you now and I will trust you when it is all over.

              You have my word. Paul?

              Buffalo Bill's real name is Louis Friend.

              I met him just once. He was referred to me in April or May     

              by my patient, Benjamin Raspail.

              They were lovers, you see.

              But Raspail had become very frightened.

              Apparently, Louis had murdered a transient

              and done things with the skin.

              We need his address and a physical description.

              Tell me, Senator. Did you nurse Catherine yourself?

              - What? - Did you breast-feed her?

              - Now, wait a minute. - Yes, I did.

              - Toughened your nipples, didn't it? - You son of a bitch!

              Amputate a man's leg and he can still feel it tickling.

              Tell me, Mom, when your little girl is on the slab, where will it tickle you?

              Take this thing back to Baltimore.

              Five foot ten, strongly built, about     pounds.

              Hair blond, eyes pale blue.

              He'd be about    now. He said he lived in Philadelphia but may have lied.

              That's all I can remember, Mom, but if I think of any more, I will let you know.

              And, Senator, just one more thing.

              Love your suit.

              In a meeting this evening with Senator Ruth Martin,

              Dr Lecter agreed to assist in the investigation

              of trying to find the abductor, Buffalo Bill.

              - How do you fit in? - My insight into Lecter's mind

              - made this breakthrough possible. - Buffalo Bill's real name?

              That is now a matter of record with the proper authorities.

              - My name is Dr Frederick Chilton. - How do you spell that?

              - Are you with Dr Chilton's group? - Well, I just saw him outside, sir.

              Access to Lecter is limited. We've been getting death threats.

              I understand, sir.

              Log in and check your weapon.

              I can't take all the credit. Senator Martin, the Justice Department,

              people at the FBl, folks at the Baltimore state hospital.

              And now for the hard part: apprehending the suspect.

              Excuse me, folks. I'm gonna have to catch a flight.

              Is it true what they're sayin'?

              He's some kind of vampire?

              They don't have a name for what he is.

              You do know the rules, ma'am?

              Yes, Lieutenant Boyle. I've questioned him before.

              Go ahead.

              Good evening, Clarice.

              I thought you might like your drawings back, Doctor.

              Just until you get your view.

              How very thoughtful.

              Or did Jack Crawford send you for one last wheedle

              before you're both booted off the case?

              No, I came because I wanted to.

              People will say we're in love.

              Anthrax lsland.

              That was an especially nice touch, Clarice.

              - Yours? - Yes.


              That was good. Pity about poor Catherine, though.

              Ticktock, ticktock, ticktock.

              Your anagrams are showing, Doctor.

              Louis Friend?

              Iron sulfide, also known as fool's gold.

              Oh, Clarice, your problem is you need to get more fun out of life.

              You were telling me the truth back in Baltimore, sir. Please continue now.

              I've read the case files. Have you?

              Everything you need to find him is there in those pages.

              - Then tell me how. - First principles, Clarice. Simplicity.

              Read Marcus Aurelius. Of each particular thing, ask what is it in itself?

              What is its nature?

              What does he do, this man you seek?

              - He kills women. - No. That is incidental.

              What is the first thing he does? What needs does he serve by killing?


              Social acceptance.

              - Sexual frustrations. - No. He covets.

              That is his nature. And how do we begin to covet, Clarice?

              Do we seek out things to covet?

              Make an effort to answer now.

              No. We just...

              No, we begin by coveting what we see every day.

              Don't you feel eyes moving over your body, Clarice?

              And don't your eyes seek out the things you want?

              All right, yes. Now please tell me how...

              No. It is your turn to tell me, Clarice.

               You don't have any more vacations to sell.

                Why did you leave that ranch?

                Doctor, we don't have any more time for any of this now.

                But we don't reckon time the same way, do we?

                - This is all the time you'll ever have. - Later. Listen to me. We've only got five...

                No. I will listen now.

                After your father's murder, you were orphaned.

                You went to live with cousins on a sheep and horse ranch in Montana.


                And one morning I just ran away.

                Not "just", Clarice. What set you off?

                - You started at what time? - Early. Still dark.

                Then something woke you, didn't it? Was it a dream? What was it?

                I heard a strange noise.

                What was it?

                It was screaming.

                Some kind of screaming. Like a child's voice.

                What did you do?

                I went downstairs.


                I crept up into the barn.

                I was so scared to look inside, but I had to.

                What did you see, Clarice? What did you see?


                They were screaming.

                They were slaughtering the spring lambs?

                And they were screaming.

                - And you ran away? - No. First I tried to free them.

                I opened the gate to their pen, but they wouldn't run.

                They just stood there, confused. They wouldn't run.

                But you could - and you did, didn't you?

                Yes. I took one lamb and I ran away as fast as I could.

                - Where were you going, Clarice? - I don't know. I didn't have any food,

                any water and it was very cold, very cold.

                I thought...

                I thought if I could save just one, but...

                He was so heavy.

                So heavy.

                I didn't get more than a few miles when the sheriff's car picked me up.

                The rancher was so angry, he sent me to live at the orphanage in Bozeman.

                I never saw the ranch again.

                What became of your lamb, Clarice?

                - He killed him. - You still wake up sometimes, don't you?

                Wake up in the dark

                and hear the screaming of the lambs?


                And you think, if you save poor Catherine, you could make them stop, don't you?

                You think if Catherine lives,

                you won't wake up in the dark ever again

                to that awful screaming of the lambs.

                I don't know.

                I don't know.

                Thank you, Clarice.

                - Thank you. - Tell me his name, Doctor.

                Dr Chilton, I presume.

                I think you know each other.


                - Let's go. - It's your turn, Doctor.

                - Out. - Tell me his name.

                Sorry, ma'am. I've got orders. I have to put you on a plane. Come on now.

                Brave Clarice.

                You will let me know when those lambs stop screaming, won't you?

                - Tell me his name, Doctor. - Clarice.

                Your case file.

                Goodbye, Clarice.

                - Ready when you are, doc. - Just another minute, please.

                Son of a bitch demanded a second dinner. Lamb chops, extra rare.

                I wonder what he wants for breakfast. Some damn thing from the zoo?

                - Good evening, gentlemen. - OK, doc. Grab some floor.

                Same drill as before, please.

                Ready when you are, Sergeant Pembry.


                Hand me that, would ya?


                Mind the drawings, please.

                Thank you.

                Watch it. He's cuffed me!

                Jesus Christ!

                Ready when you are, Sergeant Pembry.

                What is this shit?

                - Did somebody go up on five? - No. Nobody went up.

                Call Pembry. Ask him to tell...

                CP. Shots fired on five. Repeat: shots fired on five.

                Sergeant Tate.

                - Holy shit. - What the hell...?

                Shut up. Bobby, get the vest.

                - Right, sarge. - Brady, Howard, cover...


                - It's stopped. - Seal off a ten-block radius.

                Get me the SWAT team and an ambulance double-quick.

                We're goin' up.



                Oh, God.


                - Clear. - Command post.

                Two officers down.

                - Lecter's gone, sarge. - Prisoner is missing.

                - Boyle's gun is gone, Sergeant. - Repeat: Lecter is missing and armed.

                He's stripped the bed. Might be makin' a rope. Check all windows.

                Where the fuck is my ambulance?

                He's alive. Sergeant Tate, he's alive.

                Get a hold of him and feel his hand. Talk to him.

                - What do I say? - It's Jim Pembry. Talk to him, dammit!

                Lecter is missing and armed.

                Pembry, can you hear me?

                He took Boyle's gun. Pembry got off one round. There's a chance Lecter was hit.

                Keep breathin' in and out. That's it. You're doing a good job.

                You look real good.

                Yeah, you look real good.

                - You ready? - Let's do it.

                Let's go.

                Looking good, Pembry. You're gonna make it. You're doin' just fine.

                I need that IV now!

                Can we get the straps? Where's the fucking oxygen?

                Stay with me. Stay with me here.

                We're losin' him. Downstairs.

                And up.


                CP to Tate.

                Roger, Lieutenant. Tate here.

                I'm on the elevator bringing Pembry down.

                He seems to be hangin' on.

                Top three floors secured.

                Main stairwell secured.

                We think he's on two.

                Tate, are you still with me?

                We're pretty sure he's somewhere on two, sir. That's all for now. Over.

                He's on the roof of the elevator.

                OK, guys.

                I see him.

                There's a gun by his hand. He's not moving.

                - One warning: we need him alive. - Got it.

                Lecter, put your hands on your head.

                One in the leg.

                No movement.

                Johnny, hold your fire. We're comin' into the car.

                We're openin' the hatch.

                Watch his hands. If there's any fire, it'll come from us.

                - Affirm. - Got it.

                Memphis General, medical unit   .

                We're inbound with a male police officer with severe facial lacerations.

                Weapon unknown. We've got grand mal seizure activity but he's post-ictal now.

                Vital signs are good. Pressure is      over   .

                -   ? - Yeah, that's right,   . Pulse   .

                We got him on lactated Ringer's and the patient is on ten litres of oxygen...

                They found the ambulance in a parking garage at the airport. Crew was dead.

                He killed a tourist, too. Got his clothes, cash.

                - By now he could be anywhere. - He won't come after me.

                - Oh, really? - He won't.

                I can't explain it. He would consider that rude.

                - It's over. She's dead. - It's not your fault it worked out like this.

                The thing is that Lecter said everything we need to catch him is in these pages.

                Dr Lecter said a lot of things.

                He's here, Ardelia.

                Is this Lecter's handwriting?

                "Clarice, doesn't this random scattering of sites seem desperately random,

                Iike the elaboration of a bad liar? Hannibal Lecter."

                Desperately random? What does he mean?

                Not random at all, maybe. Like there's some pattern here.

                But there is no pattern or the computers would have nailed it.

                - They were even found in random order. - Random because of the one girl.

                - The one he weighted down. - Fredrica Bimmel.

                From Belvedere, Ohio.

                First girl taken, third body found.

                - Why? - She didn't drift. He weighted her down.

                What did Lecter say about the first principles?

                - Simplicity. - What does this guy do? He covets.

                How do we first start to covet?

                - We covet what we see... - Every day.

                - Hot damn, Clarice. - He knew her.

                BELVEDERE, OHIO

                - Mr Bimmel? - That's me.

                I'm Clarice Starling. I'm with the FBl.

                I sure appreciate you letting me take a look around, Mr Bimmel.

                I don't know nothin' new to tell ya.

                Police been back here so many times already.

                Fredrica went into Chicago on the bus to see about a job.

                She left the interview OK. She never come home.

                Her bedroom's how she left it.

                Upstairs. Door to the left.

                He's making himself a "woman suit", Mr Crawford, out of real women.

                He can sew, this guy. He's very skilled.

                - He's a tailor or a dressmaker. - Starling...

                That's why they're so big. He has to keep them alive so he can starve them,

                - so that he can loosen their skin. - Starling, we know who he is.

                And where he is. We're on our way right now.

                - Where? - Calumet City, edge of Chicago.

                Be on the ground in    minutes.

                That's great news, sir, but how...

                Johns Hopkins came up with some names. We fed 'em into Known Offenders.

                Subject's name is Jamie Gumb, a.k.a John Grant.

                Lecter's description was accurate. He just lied about the name.

                Customs had some paper on him.

                They stopped a carton two years ago at LAX. Live caterpillars from Surinam.

                The addressee was a Jame Gumb.

                Chicago's only     miles from here. I'll be there in...

                No, Starling. There's not enough time. We want him for murder, not kidnapping.

                I need you to link him to the Bimmel girl. See what you can dredge up in Belvedere.

                Yes, sir, you bet. I'll do my best.

                Starling, we wouldn't have found him without you.

                Nobody's gonna forget that. Least of all me.

                Thank you, sir. Thank you very much, Mr Crawford.

                Mr Crawford?

                Thanks for the scraps, asshole.

                I got a better idea.

                OK, Precious. Time for a little treat.


                Come on, girl!

                Come on, Precious.

                Come on, Precious!

                I got a yummy snack for ya! Come on. Come and get it.


                Are you up there, you little shit?

                Come and get it, pretty girl.

                Precious, please come. Come on.

                Would you fuck me?

                Come on. Take that bone.

                I'd fuck me.

                Come on.

                I'd fuck me hard.

                I'd fuck me so hard.



                Is that a good job, FBI agent? You get to travel around and stuff?

                I mean, better places than this?

                Sometimes you do.

                Freddie was so happy for me when I got this job at the bank.

                Toaster giveaways and Barry Manilow on the speakers all day.

                She thought it was such hot shit.

                What did she know? Big dummy.

                Stacy, did Fredrica ever mention a man named Jamie Gumb or a Jame Gumb?

                - How about John Grant? - No.

                Would she have had a friend you didn't know about?

                If she had a guy, I'd have known, believe me.

                - Sewing was her life. - Did you two ever work together?

                Sure. Me and Pam Malavesi used to help her do alterations for old Mrs Lippman.

                Can you give me Mrs Lippman's address? I need to talk to her.

                CALUMET CITY, IL

                So powerful. So beautiful.


                - Precious? - She's down here, you sack of shit!

                - Put her in that bucket. - Get me a telephone and lower it down.

                Poodlie-poo. Precious.

                - Darling heart, are you all right? - She's in a lot of pain. She needs a vet.

                She broke her leg on the way down. I know it.

                - Don't you hurt my dog! - Don't you make me hurt your dog!

                You don't know what pain is!

                - Oh, fuck! - You better be gettin' me that telephone!

                I'm gonna do it, mister!

                All right, mister! I'm doin' it!

                OK, I'm coming.

                We're goin' in.

                Good afternoon. Sorry to bother you. I'm looking for Mrs Lippman's family.

                FBl! Everybody down!

                No, Lippmans don't live here any more.

                Excuse me. I really need to speak with you.


                What's the problem, officer?

                I'm investigating the death of Fredrica Bimmel.

                There's no one here, Jack.


                - Your name is? - Jack Gordon.

                Mr Gordon. Good. Well, Fredrica used to work for Mrs Lippman. Did you know her?

                No. Uh-uh.

                Oh, wait.

                Was she a great, big, fat person?

                - She was a big girl, sir. - Yeah, I may have...

                No, I read about her in the newspaper.

                Mrs Lippman had a son. Maybe he could help you.

                I got his card here someplace. Come in while I look for it.

                - May l? - Yeah, sure.

                Are you close to catchin' somebody, you think?

                Yes. We may be.

                Did you take over this place after Mrs Lippman died, is that right?

                Yeah, I bought this house two years ago.

                Did she leave any records? Any business records?

                Tax forms? List of employees?

                No, nothin' like that at all.

                Say, has the FBI learned something?

                The police around here don't seem to have the first clue.

                I mean, have you got, like, a description, fingerprints, anything like that?


                No, we don't.

                Here's that number.

                Very good, Mr Gordon. May I use your phone, please?

                Sure, you can use my phone.

                Freeze! Put your hands over your head.

                And turn around. Spread your legs.

                Spread your legs. Put your hands in the back. Thumbs up.


                Hello? Are you there?

                I'm down here!

                - Catherine Martin? - Yes!

                FBl. You're safe.

                Safe, shit! Get me outta here!

                - You're all right. Where is he? - How the fuck should I know?

                - Just get me outta here! - You gotta be quiet. Shut that dog up.

                Just get me outta here!

                Oh, my God.

                Catherine, I'm gonna get you outta there, but right now you listen to me.

                I've gotta leave this room. Be right back.

                No! Don't you leave me here, you fuckin' bitch!

                Don't you leave me here! This guy's fuckin' crazy!


                I gotta get outta here!

                Catherine, the other officers'll be here any minute now.

                Wait! Don't go! Please!


                - You OK? - Gunpowder. It's nothing. I'm OK.

                How did you track Buffalo Bill here?

                Clarice M Starling.


                Special Agent Starling.

                - Special Agent Mapp. - Phone call.

                - Excuse me. - Starling.

                Pilch, could you take our picture?

                Yeah. Sure.

                Look, I just wanted to say congratulations.

                I'm not much good at this kinda thing, so I'm gonna duck outta here.

                OK. Sure.

                Thank you, Mr Crawford.

                Your father would have been proud today.

                Don't forget your phone call.

                - Starling. - Well, Clarice?

                Have the lambs stopped screaming?

                - Dr Lecter. - Don't bother with the trace.

                I won't be on long enough.

                - Where are you, Dr Lecter? - I have no plans to call on you, Clarice.

                The world's more interesting with you in it.

                So you take care now to extend me the same courtesy.

                You know I can't make that promise.

                I do wish we could chat longer but...

                I'm having an old friend for dinner.

                - Bye. - Dr Lecter?

                Dr Lecter?

                Excuse me. You got the security system all set up?

                - We have the big-shot security. - Thank you. I appreciate that.




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