Red Dragon - Thomas Harris [31]
The difficulty of the next part was evident.
A bouncing blur in a harsh movie light became a bed and Charles Leeds thrashing, Mrs. Leeds sitting up, shielding her eyes, turning to Leeds and putting her hands on him, rolling toward the edge of the bed, legs tangled in the covers, traying to rise. The camera jerked toward the ceiling, molding whipping across the screen like a stave, and then the picture steadied, Mrs. Leeds back down on the mat?tress, a dark spot on her nightdress spreading and Leeds, hands to his neck and eyes wild rising. The screen went black for five beats, then the tic of a splice.
The camera was steady now, on a tripod. They were all dead now. Arranged. Two children seated against the wall facing the bed, one seated across the corner from them facing the camera. Mr. and Mrs. Leeds in bed with the covers over them. Mr. Leeds propped up against the headboard, the sheet covering the rope around his chest and his head lolled to the side.
Dolarhyde came into the picture from the left with the stylized movements of a Balinese dancer. Bloodsmeared and naked except for his glasses and gloves, he mugged and capered among the dead. He approached the far side of the bed, Mrs. Leeds's side, took the corner of the covers, whipped them off the bed and held the pose as though he had executed a veronica.
Now, watching in the parlor of his grandparents' house, Dolarhyde was covered with a sheen of sweat. His thick tongue ran out con?stantly, the scar on his upper lip wet and shiny and he moaned as he stimulated himself.
Even at the height of his pleasure he was sorry to see that in the film's ensuing scene he lost all his grace and elegance of motion, rooting piglike with his bottom turned carelessly to the camera. There were no dramatic pauses, no sense of pace or climax, just brut?ish frenzy.
It was wonderful anyway. Watching the film was wonderful. But not as wonderful as the acts themselves.
Two major flaws, Dolarhyde felt, were that the film did not actu?ally show the deaths of the Leedses and that his own performance was poor toward the end. He seemed to lose all his values. That was not how the Red Dragon would do it.
Well. He had many films to make and, with experience, he hoped he could maintain some aesthetic distance, even in the most inti?mate moments.
He must bear down. This was his life's work, a magnificent thing. It would live forever.
He must press on soon. He must select his fellow performers. Al?ready he had copied several films of Fourth of July family outings. The end of summer always brought a rush of business at the film-?processing plant as vacation movies came in. Thanksgiving would bring another rush.
Families were mailing their applications to him every day.
? HYPERLINK “” \l “CONTENTS” ??
Red Dragon
CHAPTER 10
The plane from Washington to Birmingham was halfempty. Gra?ham took a window seat with no one beside him.
He declined the tired sandwich the stewardess offered and put his Jacobi file on the tray table. At the front he had listed the similari?ties between the Jacobis and the Leedses.
Both couples were in their late thirties, both had children - two boys and a girl. Edward Jacobi had another son, by a previous mar?riage, who was away at college when the family was killed.
Both parents in each case had college degrees, and both families lived in twostory houses in pleasant suburbs. Mrs. Jacobi and Mrs. Leeds were attractive women. The families had some of the same credit cards and they subscribed to some of the same popular maga?zines.
There the similarities ended. Charles Leeds was a tax attorney, while Edward Jacobi was an engineer and metallurgist. The Atlanta family were Presbyterian; the Jacobis were Catholic. The Leedses were lifelong Atlanta residents, while the Jacobis had lived in Bir?mingham only three months, transferred there from Detroit.
The word “random” sounded in Graham's head like a dripping faucet. “Random selection of victims,” “no apparent motive” - newspapers used those