In the off hours (are there any, really?), Jack and his beloved wife, Bella, are finding some recreational time during the case, enjoying an elegantly crafted dinner at the home of Hannibal Lecter. Exquisite as it may be, however, Bella politely declines the first course, fois gras, given her stance against the cruelty going into its production.
Hannibal, graciously as always, honors her request and concurs with her views, adding that he himself uses an “ethical butcher.” Animal cruelty being, of course, the first and worst indicator of a sociopath. From our animal ancestors, he says, we receive the gift of emotion; cruelty is a gift humanity gives itself. “The gift that keeps on giving,” Jack adds. Hannibal is quite taken with Bella, his hyper-acute sense of smell appreciating her perfume of air just after lightning strikes.
Beloved though Bella may be, things aren’t well with the Crawford marriage. Bella has become remote, and Jack utterly unable to reach her. After stating that there is no need to inquire about someone else, he asks what’s bothering here these days, but she deflects as just something going on at work. “So as your husband,” he chides kindly, “there is nothing I can offer you romantically, physically, or spiritually? So you’ll work out what you need to work out, and then we’ll go back to being us. I love you, Bella.”
But as Bella shares in Hannibal’s office, there is, in fact, an affair. And there is also a cancer, a little liver cell that got lost, found a home in her lung, and just started doing what cells do. And she has no intention of telling Jack , given his intense and unrelenting workload. Hannibal senses resentment, prods; “Jack has too much to worry about without worrying about me.” Hannibal suggests that by keeping silent she is not sparing Jack, but rather dealing him a double blow, neither for which he is to blame. That by her resentment she punishes him for not being able to cure cancer, to “save her” though she might reject the term. She suggests they see Hannibal for couples counseling but he declines, not wanting her to have “home couch advantage.”
The latest intense and unrelenting workload, our angel-maker, has enjoyed clarity, however. Brian Zeller has identified him as one Elliot Buddish, and the team brings in the wife. The estranged wife, having left him because of the cancer. Monstrous it must sound, she knows, but she was there for him… yet he kept withdrawing… and wouldn’t let her in… wouldn’t let her help… pushed her away… and the truth washes over Jack.
Jack and Will find Elliott. He has strung himself up, made himself into his own final angel, there will be no more angel-maker killing. But Will can’t take it anymore, and despite the gift, the classroom may have to be the choice. So quit, Jack says, but just know that doing that, while the killing continues when you could do something to prevent it, will sour the classroom forever…
Coquilles leaves us on a bittersweet note. As we get closer to our characters, we’re starting to grasp their goodness more fully, but also the cost the work exacts, from them and those who love them. Beverly’s inquiry, black humor set aside, into Will’s well-being after the altercation with Jack, granting that given the work they do, none of them are “okay” but asking if he is nonetheless; Will’s hiding the fact that no, he isn’t actually, he’s had a second sleepwalking incident that left him on the roof of his house, not to mention the hallucination of Elliott Buddish’s seeing him aflame, as fit for angelic transformation; Jack’s opportunism counter-pointed to the tender affection for his longtime bride; Bella’s attempt to save their life by not disrupting it, not realizing how the silence would change her.
We even see glimmers of goodness in Hannibal, as he directs a genuine professional effort toward maintaining fairness and wholeness for Jack where Jack deserves it, even as he undermines him in furtherance of the goal of gaining ground inside Will’s head in an overture of perverted friendship.
These are people who know each other, and themselves, well. When truth is put before them in a way they cannot dodge (though try they do), they step forward and engage it, and stand in each other’s corners while each fights their own fight. Hannibal (watch out, people…) stands for Will, pointing out Jack’s manipulations and helping him to stay grounded; Beverly stands for Will as together they face the gruesome; Jack stands for Bella as she faces the cancer; Will sits next to Jack as he faces Bella’s future, not pressing for a single word but not leaving until one is spoken.
Each recognizes the value and questions the cost, if perhaps they don’t count it soon enough. Each has angels, each has demons (well, arguably Lounds has only demons…).
And the fights they are a’comin’.