Hannibal Lecter sat at the head of the long oak dining table, a white napkin tied around his neck.
The steak on the plate has an enticing rose pink color, and the crispy, brown crust on the surface locks in the abundant juices.
These are the spoils of last night's "surgery".
The psoas muscles, after undergoing overnight deacidification, were served with a sauce made from red wine currants.
He cut off a small piece and put it in his mouth.
Senator Stern's greed, rudeness, and ignorance during his lifetime have all been transformed into a delicate and smooth taste on the tongue.
This creation, which transforms disorder into order, gave Hannibal a near-divine pleasure.
Just as he was about to enjoy his second piece, the doorbell rang.
It was a rapid, unrhythmic pressing technique.
Someone outside the door repeatedly pressed the button, using this behavior as a way to vent their frustration.
Hannibal stopped what he was doing, his brow furrowing slightly before quickly relaxing.
Being disturbed while eating is a great offense, but he is also a gentleman who is extremely good at managing his emotions.
He touched the corner of his mouth with a napkin, then got up and walked towards the entrance.
The door opened, and standing outside was a Black woman wearing a leather jacket and sporting an exaggerated afro.
With her hands in her pockets, chewing gum, her eyes were unabashedly sizing Hannibal up and down.
" Hannibal Lecter?"
The woman pulled out her badge and flashed it in front of his eyes, so fast that only the afterimage of the NYPD remained.
" Officer Knight, you can call me Misty Knight. Harlem Police Department."
"This is the Upper East Side, Officer Knight." Hannibal didn't step aside. "As far as I know, this area is not under Harlem's jurisdiction."
"This is a request for joint investigation."
Misty Knight tucked away her ID, leaned forward, and exuded a kind of street-style aggression.
" Senator Stern was last seen here last night. His wife reported him missing, saying he hadn't come home, and even his driver of five years has disappeared."
"The senator is an adult."
Hannibal's voice was steady and gentle, like a university professor answering Rebirth's silly question.
"Adults sometimes want to disappear from their usual routines for a while. Maybe they're just tired of it."
Tired? Even the cell phone signal has grown tired and disappeared along the Hudson River?
Misty Knight sneered and tried to peer into the room over Hannibal's shoulder.
"I have reason to suspect that he encountered some kind of... unpleasantness here."
"We conducted a very in-depth psychological counseling session."
Hannibal turned to the side, a flawless professional smile on his face.
"Regarding childhood Shadow, a lust for power, and self-destructive tendencies, he was somewhat emotional when he left, but chose to leave through a private exit to avoid being photographed with red, swollen eyes."
Misty Knight didn't speak, but her nose suddenly twitched.
She smelled a strange odor.
It was an incredibly tempting aroma of meat, mixed with rosemary, butter, and some kind of indescribable sweetness.
The smell wafted from the direction of the restaurant, traveled down the corridor, and entered her nostrils, arousing her most primal appetite, yet it instinctively made her, a police officer who dealt with crime scenes year-round, feel uneasy.
"You're cooking?" Misty Knight's gaze was full of scrutiny. "Eating this so early in the morning?"
"This is veal, officer. It's what's commonly called tenderloin."
Hannibal readily admitted it.
"Those who do intense mental work need high-quality protein. Want to come in and try some? There's only one left, but I guess you prefer it stronger, so I might suggest adding a little more black pepper."
This composure surprised Misty Knight for a moment.
Misty Knight Knight eventually crossed that threshold.
It wasn't because she was actually hungry, but rather out of a kind of detective instinct.
You can never see the Shadow inside from outside the door; only by stepping into that almost perfect room will you discover what you're looking for.
Hannibal gentlemanly pulled out the chair opposite him at the dining table.
"Please have a seat, officer. We only have red wine currant sauce; I hope you don't mind it being a bit sweet."
Misty Knight sat down, looking at the plate of steak in front of her that resembled a work of art.
The meat is an enticing pink color with crispy edges, and the sauce is drizzled on the side of the plate, resembling some kind of impressionistic abstract painting.
"This area was specially reserved."
Hannibal returned to his seat and picked up his knife and fork.
"This part of the body is usually very tender due to minimal movement. For those who sit in an office all day giving orders, it's not just food, it's ironic."
Misty Knight didn't touch her knife and fork.
She stared into Hannibal's eyes, trying to detect even the slightest hint of panic or concealment.
"Are you this concerned about every patient who runs away from home due to a mental breakdown? You even treated the police officer in charge of the investigation to a meal?"
Not every one.
Hannibal cut off a small piece of meat and put it in his mouth, chewing it slowly, almost as if he were enjoying it.
"Only interesting guests are worth doing this for. And you, Officer Knight, there's something in your eyes that I really admire."
"Suspect?"
No, it's persistence.
Hannibal pointed to the plate.
"Try it. This is the greatest respect you can show to the chef, and it's the first step in building trust."
Misty Knight frowned.
The aroma was so pungent, it seemed to come alive as it entered her nostrils, stirring her already protesting stomach.
Last night, while tracking down some street thugs, she hadn't eaten anything proper for twenty hours.
She picked up her knife and fork and cut off a small piece.
The meat was incredibly tender; the Blade sliced through the muscle fibers without any resistance.
The moment she put it in her mouth, Misty Knight's pupils dilated slightly.
It didn't have the fishy or cheap, greasy smell I expected.
A unique sweet aroma explodes on the tongue, the meat is juicy and has a delicate, creamy texture.
The sweet and sour sauce perfectly balances the richness of the meat, bringing a thrilling sense of satisfaction.
"Damn," Misty Knight muttered, her tense shoulders relaxing slightly. "This is indeed... delicious."
Hannibal smiled with satisfaction.
The secret pleasure of watching a hunter devour a portion of its prey far surpasses the food itself.
"What kind of meat is this? It doesn't look like regular beef."
Misty Knight cut another piece, this time much larger than the first.
"Due to specific breeding methods and a superior living environment, this type of meat is very difficult to find on the market."
Hannibal answered casually.
"I call it a special variant of 'long pig.' Of course, it can also be understood as a rare type of veal."
"You should open a restaurant; being a doctor is such a waste."
Misty Knight mumbled between bites, her wariness slowly melting away under the soothing influence of sugar and protein.
" Senator Stern will probably regret it terribly if he misses this meal."
"On the contrary."
Hannibal raised his glass, observing Misty Knight through the deep red liquid.
" Senator Stern is participating in this banquet in another form, and I think he will be honored."
"Participate?"
Misty Knight stopped moving, her eyes sharpening again.
"You mean, he knew you would do this?"
"What I mean is, we've shared our insights on food."
Hannibal remained unfazed.
"He knows how to enjoy life, even if his taste is rather unsophisticated. This meal is a way of commemorating his 'epiphany'."
Misty Knight stared at him for a few seconds, but ultimately couldn't find any flaws in his calm face.
She swallowed the food in her mouth; its deliciousness made it impossible for her to maintain her hostility.
The plate was empty quickly.
Misty Knight wiped her mouth with a napkin, and the anxiety caused by hunger completely disappeared.
"Thank you for the treat. But I still need to investigate."
Misty Knight stood up, reverting to her usual cold, hard policeman demeanor.
"Since you say he used the private entrance, I want to see the surveillance footage and inspect that entrance."
"Of course, cooperating with the police is every citizen's duty."
Hannibal put down his wine glass.
"However, besides the exit, that passage also has a maintenance well for the underground drainage system. There are no security cameras there, only rats and homeless people. If you want to go down, I can lend you a flashlight."
Misty Knight squinted. No blind spots from the surveillance cameras? That's so convenient.
"No need, I have my own equipment."
She walked to the door, put her hand on the doorknob, and suddenly turned around.
"Doctor, your cleaning solution has a very strong smell. It's lemon and basil, usually used to mask the smell of blood."
"Or perhaps it was to cover up the cheap cologne scent left by Senator Stern."
Hannibal remained seated in his chair.
Do you know how hard it is to get rid of that smell? It's as stubborn as a politician's lie.
Misty Knight snorted coldly, opened the door, and walked out.
Hannibal only slowly stood up after the old Ford started up and drove away from the street corner.
Misty Knight ate it all up, even wiping the last bit of sauce off with bread.
That's good.