At the Hobbs home Hugh Dancy earns a few of his own, his Will unflinching and direct yet kind as he explains to Abigail that her mother received no chalk outline as only living people receive those since they are removed before the crime scene is processed. Similarly he answered her query as to what it’s like to look into minds like that of her father: “Like talking to a shadow suspended in dust.” (Abigail: “No wonder you have nightmares.”)
Not lost on Abigail is the belief of many that she is, in fact, the copycat; loyal friend Marissa strenuously objects to such a notion, contrary to the victim’s brother who, tipped off by our good friend Freddy, confronts Abigail in the back yard. Scuffle broken up by an unnervingly clear-eyed Lecter, they return to the task of exploring what clues may yet be found; Abigail finally fully understands her father’s depravity and grasps it with a certain acuity, going so far as to suggest a re-enactment of events with Lecter in the role of tipster caller. Lecter declines, skillfully stepping into Bloom’s description of folie a deux, “or madness of two,” countering the fact that a perspective doesn’t qualify as madness if it’s the common understanding of one’s primary culture or subculture.
But the body count ain’t over, and to Jack’s unmitigated chagrin, the copycat does, in fact, kill the same way twice, as evidenced by Marissa’s body found in similar fashion inside the Hobbs home. Jack’s rather opportunistic, fickle side is coming out we now see, as he calls Will on the carpet for being mistaken as emphatically as he wanted Will evaluating Abigail not a day or two prior. Jack can be hot-headed and self-serving, qualities not at the fore but well worth bearing in mind for future reference… Lounds (what a mouth that one has) is loving it all, being uncermoniously hauled out of yet another crime scene, offering to undo her latest libelous damage in exchange for information in what amounts to blackmail.
Angry brother is back for round two as well, attacking Abigail once more and finding a blade in his belly for his trouble. One can’t blame her, it was self-defense, pure and simple. The assault alerts Bloom who never makes it into the room thanks to being knocked out by Lecter, and we find that brother dear may not have been dispatched quite like Abigail originally perceived: he has been gutted just like Abigail’s unfortunate doe.
After helping her hide the body, Lecter shares a few observations with her in his office where he anticipated she would come after sneaking away from the psych hospital. Such as that actions can be misunderstood, as for example her handling of the brother, and that his call to her father was merely to schedule an interview. Yet despite his very accurate, non-defensive statement that he is nothing like her father, Abigail pegs him verbally, that he called her father not as practitioner, but as serial killer. “Don’t worry,” he tells her, “I’ll keep your secret.” “And I’ll keep yours.” Agreed. And he seems almost friendly about it. Gotta love Mikkelsen.
As we see the truer colors emerging, and the varieties of understanding and perspective about those hunted by Crawford’s pack, Hannibal’s complexity continues to build, layer by layer, flavor by flavor. Next course, please!
