Graham had stared through the bars for about five seconds when Lecter opened his eyes and said, 'That's the same atrocious aftershave you wore in court.''I keep getting it for Christmas.'Dr. Lecter's eyes are maroon and they reflect the light redly
ight redly in tiny points. Graham felt each hair bristle on his nape. He put his hands in the back of his neck.
'Christmas, yes,' Lecter said. 'Did you get my card?'
'I got it. Thank you.'
Dr. Lecter's Christmas card had been forwarded to Graham from the F.B.I. crime laboratory in Washington. He took it into the backyard, burned it, and washed his hands before touching Molly.