The film of the beauty contest that Jame Gumb watched as an adult was real footage of his mother, but the woman in the swimming pool film was not his mother, comparative measurements revealed.
Gumb's grandparents retrieved him from an unsatisfactory foster home when he was ten, and he killed them two years later.
Tulare Vocational Rehabilitation taught Gumb to be a tailor during his years at the psychiatric hospital. He demonstrated definite aptitude for the work.
Gumb's employment record is broken and incomplete. Reporters found at least two restaurants where he worked off the books, and he worked sporadically in the clothing business. It has not been proven that he killed during this period, but Benjamin Raspail said he did.
He was working at the curio store where the butterfly ornaments were made when he met Raspail, and he lived off the musician for some time. It was then that Gumb became obsessed with moths and butterflies and the changes they go through.
After Raspail left him, Gumb killed Raspail's next lover, Klaus, beheaded and partially flayed him.
Later he dropped in on Raspail in the East. Raspail, ever thrilled by bad boys, introduced him to Dr. Lecter.
This was proven in the week after Gumb's death when the FBI seized from Raspail's next of kin the tapes of Raspail's therapy sessions with Dr. Lecter.
Years ago, when Dr. Lecter was declared insane, the therapy-session tapes had been turned over to the families of the victims to be destroyed. But Raspail's wrangling relatives kept the tapes, hoping to use them to attack Raspail's will. They had lost interest listening to the early tapes, which are only Raspail's boring reminiscences of school life. After the news coverage of Jame Gumb, the Raspail family listened to the rest. When the relatives called the lawyer Everett Yow and threatened to use the tapes in a renewed assault on Raspail's will, Yow called Clarice Starling.
The tapes include the final session, when Lecter killed Raspail. More important, they reveal how much Raspail told Lecter about Jame Gumb:
Raspail told Dr. Lecter that Gumb was obsessed with moths, that he had flayed people in the past, that he had killed Klaus, that he had a job with the Mr. Hide leather-goods company in Calumet City, but was taking money from an old lady in Belvedere, Ohio, who had made linings for Mr. Hide, Inc. One day Gumb would take everything the old lady had, Raspail predicted.
"When Lecter read that the first victim was from Belvedere and she was flayed, he knew who was doing it," Crawford told Starling as they listened together to the tape. "He'd have given you Gumb and looked like a genius if Chilton had stayed out of it."
"He hinted to me by writing in the file that the sites were too random," Starling said. "And in Memphis he asked me if I sew. What did he want to happen?"
"He wanted to amuse himself," Crawford said. "He's been amusing himself for a long, long time."
No tape of Jame Gumb was ever found, and his activities in the years after Raspail's death were established piecemeal through business correspondence, gas receipts, interviews with boutique owners.
When Mrs. Lippman died on a trip to Florida with Gumb, he inherited everything-- the old building with its living quarters and empty storefront and vast basement, and a comfortable amount of money. He stopped working for Mr. Hide, but maintained an apartment in Calumet City for a while, and used the business address to receive packages in the John Grant name. He kept favored customers, and continued to travel to boutiques around the country, as he had for Mr. Hide, measuring for custom garments he made in Belvedere. He used his trips to scout for victims and to dump them when they were used up-- the brown van droning for hours on the Interstate with finished leather garments swaying on racks in the back above the rubberized body bag on the floor.
He had the wonderful freedom of the basement. Room to work and play. At first it was only games-- hunting young women through the black warren, creating amusing tableaux in remote rooms and sealing them up, opening the doors again only to throw in a little lime.
Fredrica Bimmel began to help Mrs. Lippman in the last year of the old lady's life. Fredrica was picking up sewing at Mrs. Lippman's when she met Jame Gumb. Fredrica Bimmel was not the first young woman he killed, but she was the first one he killed for her skin.
Fredrica Bimmel's letters to Gumb were found among his things.
Starling could hardly read the letters, because of the hope in them, because of the dreadful need in them, because of the endearments from Gumb that were implied in her responses: "Dearest Secret Friend in my Breast, I love you!-- I didn't ever think I'd get to say that, and it is best of all to get to say it back ."
When did he reveal himself? Had she discovered the basement? How did her face look when he changed, how long did he keep her alive?
Worst, Fredrica and Gumb truly were friends to the last; she wrote him a note from the pit.
The tabloids changed Gumb's nickname to Mr. Hide and, sick because they hadn't thought of the name themselves, virtually started over with the story.
Safe in the heart of Quantico, Starling did not have to deal with the press, but the tabloid press dealt with her.
From Dr. Frederick Chilton, the National Tattler bought the tapes of Starling's interview with Dr. Hannibal Lecter. The Tattler expanded on their conversations for their "Bride of Dracula" series and implied that Starling had made frank sexual revelations to Lecter in exchange for information, spurring an offer to Starling from Velvet Talks: The Journal of Telephone Sex.
People magazine did a short, pleasant item on Starling, using yearbook pictures from the University of Virginia and from the Lutheran Home at Bozeman. The best picture was of the horse, Hannah, in her later years, drawing a cart full of children.
Starling cut out the picture of Hannah and put it in her wallet. It was the only thing she saved.
She was healing.
Ardelia Mapp was a great tutor-- she could spot a test question in a lecture farther than a leopard can see a limp-- but she was not much of a runner. She told Starling it was because she was so weighted with facts.
She had fallen behind Starling on the jogging trail and caught up at the old DC-6 the FBI uses for hijack simulations. It was Sunday morning. They had been on the books for two days, and the pale sun felt good.
"So what did Pilcher say on the phone?" Mapp said, leaning against the landing gear.
"He and his sister have this place on the Chesapeake."
"Yeah, and?"
"His sister's there with her kids and dogs and maybe her husband."
"So?"
"They're in one end of the house-- it's a big old dump on the water they inherited from his grandmother."
"Cut to the chase."
"Pilch has the other end of the house. Next weekend, he wants us to go. Lots of rooms, he says. 'As many rooms as anybody might need,' I believe is the way he put it. His sister would call and invite me, he said."
"No kidding. I didn't know people did that anymore."
"He did this nice scenario-- no hassles, bundle up and walk on the beach, come in and there's a fire going, dogs jump all over you with their big sandy paws."
"Idyllic, umm-humm, big sandy paws, go on."
"It's kind of much, considering we've never had a date, even. He claims it's best to sleep with two or three big dogs when it gets really cold. He says they've got, enough dogs for everybody to have a couple."
"Pilcher's setting you up for the old dog-suit trick, you snapped to that didn't you?"
"He claims to be a good cook. His sister say he is."
"Oh, she called already."
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