damn, clarice, how'd you make me?
i love it when you talk dirty.
stay cool. just remember to call him "god."
phone call, clarice. it's god.
you missed fourth amendment law. unlawful seizure, real juicy stuff. where were you all afternoon?
damn. wish i had time for a social life.
you better come see this.
why does she keep repeating the name?
i don't know whether to say "i'm sorry," or "congratulations." but girl? - you just went prime time.
they found the ambulance.
in the parking garage at memphis airport. the crew was dead. he killed a tourist, too. got his clothes, cash.  by now he could be anywhere.
why not?
clarice - you did the best anybody could have for catherine martin. you stuck your neck out for her and you got your butt kicked for her and you tried. it's not your fault it ended this way.
lecter said a lot of things.
hey, is this lecter's handwriting? she holds up the map, with its location markings for the kidnapping and body dump sites. clarice takes it, looks.
not random at all, maybe. like there's some pattern here?
well, except for the one girl.
the one that was weighted down. where is she? fred something.
'cause she didn't drift. he weighted her down.
hot damn, clarice.
agent starling! telephone!
who is just inside the rec room door, at the end of the hall, lost in conversation with pilcher and roden. ardelia glances at her briefly but misunderstands, waves cheerfully back.