Her body was draped over the table, her arms hanging limply with the unmistakable crimson red blood slowly dripping from the fingertips which had been dragged through thick mud not an hour ago. The Prussian blue dress lay perfectly on her, and her face which was heavily made up was smeared with that same dark crimson red. The door shut slowly, the last hope of light was slowly cut away until only a slither remained. Lily's lay on her chest. Red lilies.
'Six months ago Sindy Shaw suffered a severe brain hemerage, leading to the gradual breakdown of her nervous system. It is unclear as to what caused this as to all previous medical files belonging to Ms Shaw have been deleted. She was last medically checked on the 6th June 2010 when she was diagnosed with having temporal paralysis, and the next day she was self-discharged, despite her Doctors strong opinion that she stay….' A man of about thirty lay stretched along a tight leather sofa, holding an autopsy report which he had read several times. His eyelids slowly closed as the thoughts started to pound against his psyche, making even the light hurt his eyes. Dark bags hung underneath his eyes, begging for sleep alongside the stubble that had formed from the lack of time to shave. A blond curl fell forward onto his face as a prim woman stepped forward meaningfully and deliberate. She suddenly stopped in her beeline, and swung around with her hands on her hips, as she was about to scold this man for he had not moved for 3 days, he simply lay there occasionally opening his eyes but soon closing them and placing his hands behind his head. The woman, Theresa Lisbon, stood there for a moment, studying the man's face, looking at the sorrow that he hid so well; for if she had not of read his file, she would have classed him as a little manic. He slowly opened his eyes, fully aware of the woman who stood before him and he in turn, quickly scanned her sharp, pointed face, deducing as to what kind of mood she was in. She had a slight blush to her high cheeks, and her thin lips were slightly pursed, she wore a faded scowl, however her eyes were dark and kind. They held each other's gaze for a second, no longer than two when simultaneously as the woman opened her mouth to speak a young woman with auburn hair hanging loosely falling down over her shoulders came running in. She was stunning to look at, and she wore only the slightest hint of makeup. She was breathless, and her cheeks were red with her lips slightly parted. The man looked up at her, with his piecing blue eyes. He knew what had happened, and was so close to figuring out how.
There was a small gathering of high status people around the new body, the woman, the red head and a few officials that murmured in the deep voices amongst themselves. It would have been easy to pick out what they were saying, despite the fact that it was confidential, however the man who stood with his hands in his suit jacket pockets had no interest in what they were saying- why should he when he could see it all right in front of him? The man stood as if an outcast, as far away from the crowd as the room would allow, silently studying the room. It was a clean fresh room, consisting of whites and lime greens, the book shelf consisted of mainly the average female books- love, diets the things you would expect to see, however the occasional dark book was to be seen, Dan Brown, James Pattinson the type that were common for men. There were several nails in the wall, with the paint cracked around them, starting to peel of revealing the cold bricks underneath. Things had been knocked over, which in an otherwise orderly room, appeared out of place, and disastrously messy. A vase of Lilies had been carefully placed on a mahogany table. Red lilies.
She entered the room. She left the room. She entered the room. She left the room. After four attempts at entering the room, finally a young lady entered the room, she had long brown hair that twisted and spiralled its way down her shoulders, she had kind eyes that didn't just look; they saw. Her brow was slightly creased due to confusion, and her olive skin seemed almost out of place on such a dreary day. Her plump lips were slightly parted about to enquire if she was indeed, in the correct place. Patrick was laying in his usual position- eyes shut, stretched out along the sofa with his hands resting behind his head. His eyes flickered open ever so slightly, and as he saw the new comer, the corners of his mouth twitched and he flashed one of his trade mark smiles at no one in particular. Grace had almost immediately jumped up to greet the visitor, however she was lost in thought, twiddling her hair around and around her fingers so It took her a minute to relies that someone was patiently standing in the door way. Grace and the woman briefly exchanged pleasantries, and grace pointed the woman in the direction of Lisbons office. A grateful smile was given to grace, and the lady nervously walked forward, as she did so her eyes darted around the room, noting the details that no-one else seemed to have ever noticed; how there were only six screws in one side of the door, but eight on the other, how the man lying on the sofa was not asleep, and in fact suffered from a mild case of insomnia. As the woman walked past Patrick a slight breeze ran though his golden locks. A second grin spread onto his face,
"she's a keeper." he announced to any one whom happened to be listening and chuckled once more to himself, still with his eyes closed. She hesitantly knocked on the door, however it was clear that her mind had already started to get her lost in wonderings and thoughts. A voice called out for her to enter in which she did so, four times. There was a low but audible mumbling of conversation and about ten minutes later Lisbon emerged, striding meaningly forward, reluctantly followed by the woman. She quickly halted when she reached the middle of the room, however the woman noted that she was actually one step closer to a locked cabinet, it was small and discrete, consisting of dark mahogany wood and looked strangely out of place in the bear office. The woman guessed it either contained an untouched bottle of alcohol, or something else which Lisbon prized.
"Every one, this is Dr Harvey-Cox, she will be working with us for the next few weeks, as I informed you yesterday." She turned to leave, but quickly spun back around and hastily added in " Jane, play nice." In Patrick simply put his hand up in the air and did a slight wave, Lisbon huffed and returned to her office. The doctor flushed, lowering her head in embarrassment, and started to unpack several books, laying them neatly on a stand that waited next to the sofa opposite Patrick's. Grace hurried over to her, keen to chat and inquire about the new member of the team. Rigsby had also walked over to enter the conversation, and cho had not yet moved from reading his book, but he occasionally interjected into the conversation.
Patrick pushed gently on the old wooden door, it slowly creaked open as he stepped in. as he stepped into the one place he could simply sit and think without being crudely interrupted by the rushed ants of the CBI. The doctor was already sat on the floor, deep in thought. The afternoon sun streamed in through the window, making the rain drops sparkle like diamonds, the light was soft and gentle stroking everything it reached. As soon as the door creaked the doctor quickly jumped up onto her feet, she noticed the man standing there whom had been laying on the sofa earlier she suddenly realised this must be his place where he came to think.
"I'm sorry, is this your place, it was just so noisy down stairs and I came across this room, and well…." She trailed of, realising that no explanation was needed. The man simply smiled,
"Patrick" he smiled "Patrick Jane."
"I'm Jessica" she blushed slightly realising of bad introduction. Patrick went over to where Jess was sitting, and flopped down onto the sofa with a gentle thud and a grin not even the Cheshire cat could compete with. Patrick glanced at her, searching her face for an indication of, well something.
There was something peculiar about the woman, and time was needed to work out what. Jess turned to him and beamed a trademark grin, not entirely sure as what to say. There was a slight pause, as Patrick was fascinated, and was staring intently; his eyes scanning her face. However it didn't take him long to realise that he could only hear the silence, so he started to talk freely. In fact they didn't stop talking until the darkness started to creep into the room in which they both acknowledged the lights probably needed turning on, which Patrick did with a show spin and a bow… and of course the grin. They continued their conversation, with intensity, laughing and joking. They had much in common, both a childish side to them. After a while longer, they moved to the window, looking out into the cold and dark street, watching the occasional person scurry with there head down as to avoid as much rain as possible. Raindrops trailed down the window slowly whilst others hung onto the window in anticipation. There was a silence, neither comfortable nor awkward, it was simply there. A crowd of people were starting to gather on the pavement on the opposite side of the road. It was unclear as to what was causing the commotion, but neither the Mentalist nor Psychologist minded that for once there was something that they did not know. Jessica's mind started to wonder again when Patrick suddenly spoke,
"Come on then" he grinned
"Come on what?" evident confusion passed over her face.
"may I have the honour of seeing your expertise?" her face lifted as the confusion passed, but then turned a slight shade of red.
" I'm really not that good" she chuckled. His face moulded into a pleading puppy dog expression. They both chuckled together, "erm, well, you see that person their?" she turned to Patrick whilst her finger was pressed up against the glass.
"the one of a nervous composition, or the one further to the right?"
"the nervous person, It may well be wrong but…." She trailed of, studied them intently for a moment" I would say that they were in a psychosis state- notice how they are fiddling nervously, and can't quite keep still also they have there hand out, positioned as though they are holding another's hand. He keeps tilting his head to the left as to listen to what he can hear being spoken on his right, however he is in quite a secluded place, slightly apart from the rest therefor the distance he is standing, he would not have any need to listen carefully, as he could quite easily hear what the crowd is saying if he wanted." With perfect timing, almost to rove the Psychologist correct, the man turned slighty to his right, and began talking to the space in front of him, intently at that. Patrick laughed exclaiming "oh, your good!" she smiled a gracious smile, and then continued to point out a few more people with similar, and contrasting problems. Patrick was unable to resist and excitedly joined in, quickly it turned into a playful 'see who can analyse the most people,' they were deucing as the stunning red head burst in through the door, nearly swinging it of off its hinges her panicked composition seemed oddly out of place in the peaceful room that had had no other noise bar the laughing and talking was to be heard. Grace's eyes were wide with fear and panick,
"it's happened again. Across the road."
They reached the body when the blood was still warm. When the blood was still trickling down the fingers, tailing like a snake waving in and out of the crevices in the smooth young hand which belonged to the lady who was slumped against the wall. Wearing the most beautiful dress, it was tightly fitted around the bust, and then gently flared out from her hips.
"Jane, the other bodies have been stolen, they went missing from the morgue not an hour ago." Lisbon approached the two newly bonded friends, her lips were pinched tight, her face drained, eyes dark. All three of them stared at the body, each pondering their own thoughts.
" Right" Patrick clapped, then rubbed his hands together "I'm off" he turned to Jessica "care to accompany me fair maiden?" without giving her time to respond, he took her arm, and began to run with that same grin on his face. Lisbon shouted after them, but Patrick simply put his arm in the air and waved without turning around. Jessica turned around with an apologetic look and called out a sorry to her boss she turned around just in time to see the puddle that they were both about to jump in.
The morgue certainly lived up to its name, cold, dark, miserable. The arrival of the two certainly seemed to liven up the place, well, as much as a morgue could be livened up. Patrick led, strutting confidently ahead and pushed open the heavy grey fire doors to find a startled man. His hair was grey, thinning and appeared to be wet from grease. His chin rested on a layer of fat that was around his neck, his stomach seemed to bulge over the barely visible belt of his creased black trousers. His eyebrows were raised, slightly lifting few folds in his face, the eyes which were set deep in his face were wide with surprise.
"You startled me" he wheezed" the only visitors who come here are normally dead" he huskily chuckled at his own little pun. He crammed in his small open mouth a food of some description "what can I do you for?" he wiped some bits of the food which had sprayed out of his mouth, and had landed on Patrick's suit. As he spoke and plucked a larger piece from the suit and popped it into his mouth. He gestured for Patrick to take a piece and then Jess, they both shook their heads at the paper bag.
"Did you have a woman in here a while ago called Suzie walker and another named Mary Sutherland?" Patrick declared more than enquired.
"was she dead" the man wheezed
"as dead as…." He trailed of, "something that is dead."
The man chuckled and started to cough, after a considerable amount of phlegm had been produced and he had regained himself he simply said "probably" and shrugged his shoulders.
Patrick walked to the man, until their noses were nearly touching "did you kill Suzie Walker and Mary Sutherland?"
The balding man looked rather confused, " Hell no, I slice and dice dead people, no one else" Patrick continued to stare at the man for a moment before pulling away "Ok, not saying you don't have anything to do with this, but I believe you." the two asked a few more questions and then turned to leave. As they were about to leave Patrick turned on his heels and grabbed a piece of the stuff that the man had in the white paper bag; which he was still holding tightly. "Thanks" Patrick grinned.
"What is it?" Jessica asked with her nose screwed up as they climbed into the car. Patrick popped it in his mouth and chewed it a couple of times "chewy" he frowned "tastes like snails."
"Probably kidney's" Jessica mused, she would have liked to have said she was joking. Almost immediately Patrick quickly put his fingers in his mouth, and slowly removed the shrivelled thing holding it up in front of him with a grimace on his face.
The stars in the sky looked down on the two, peering through the window. The crisp air was biting at the glass to be let in, the footsteps echoed around the empty street of a lone passer-by, however they sounded strange, hollow; like a knocking yet no door.
The shrivelled maroon slither lay on the table being stared at intently by two of the same pair of eyes, however, one pair were an indescribable shade of blue, and the other a shade of green. After hours of prodding and poking, Patrick and Jessica had come to the conclusion that yes, indeed it was piece of a kidney.
"I just don't think that man- what was his name again sorry?"
"Bill Redford, well that's what the name tag said…" Patrick trailed of looking out into the inky blackness that was the sky before them. They were sat in the same place they had been happily laughing earlier in the day.
"Thanks. Bill doesn't really strike me as the kind of person to remove the things himself- I wouldn't put it past him to snack on his, erm, clients?"
"That would be one way of keeping them quite" Patrick grinned and Jessica reflected the same grin.
Patricks phone let out a shrill cry, rudely interrupting the conversation. He murmed an excuse me, with an apologetic smile, and turning around slightly, flipped his phone open. There was a brief exchanging of words, then he spun around on his heels, snapping his phone shut and grinning that devilish grin.
"Grace has found someone whom might be of interest to us" he expanded a little to ease the questioning that hid behind Jessica's eyes,
"A Mr Charlie Thompson" and before the woman had any time to respond, he took her arm and dashed out of the room.
"Hang on" Jessica mumbled, Patrick stopped in his tracks and turned to her.
"What's wrong?" He questioned
"Nothing, I just forgot something, you go on- I'll be with you in a minuet."
"Ok" was all he simply said in return- he hoped his face wasn't as sceptic as his thoughts.
Jessica quickly ran back up the rest of the stairs, avoiding any cracks, and entered the room with her right foot, turned around and flicked the light switch on. And then off. And then on. And then off, this continued for several minutes, then she hurried back down the stairs to find a Patrick- leaning against the wall, smiling kindly at her.
"Ready?" he smiled
"Yeah, sorry- ready" she felt the blood vessels dilate slightly in her cheeks, and dreaded to think how red she must have looked.
The man with the smile of an angel took her arm in his, and took one deliberate step toward.
Jessica was thankful that Lisbon and Van Pelt had chosen to accompany them in their visit, as she guessed by the anxious looks that the pure aqua eyes kept giving her that there was a conversation ahead which she rather wouldn't have.
Patrick fidgeted uncomfortably in the tight leather seat in the back of the car. He wasn't sure whether to bring it up in conversation with the stunning young woman whom sat by his side or not. It would embarrassed her, well so he thought, however she was extremely unpredictable- it was fun to perplex his brain occasionally. On the contrary, he might be able to help.
The car pulled to a slow stop outside a slightly larger and grander house than any other in the street. The car puffed tiredly, and it bought to Jessica's attention that time seemed to have no meaning in this job, and in fact the sky looked as if it were approaching dawn. She frowned a little as the way the job required all of your life, and how easy it was to completely submerse yourself in the dark world of murders no wonder…. She suddenly realised that the other three people had left the car, and she quickly hopped out and put her arms around herself as the icy air bit at her skin.
Grace looked at her watch impatiently; Lisbon tapped her foot in slight annoyance.
"Half past seven…. Maybe he isn't up yet" Jessica found it hard to believe that it was as late as that. The sky was only starting to turn into a dark grey-blue, the street lamps were on, unlike those of the houses. She glanced around at the slightly irritated Lisbon, and noticed the dark bags under her eyes. Maybe it was that late after all.
"Oh he is" Lisbon snorted as she gestured to the silhouette of a man dancing in the upper window. She rattled the door knocker slightly hard this time probably wishing it was the man's head.
The silhouette disappeared, and was shortly followed by the sounds of some clicks and the sound of bolts sliding. Shortly, the door swung open, to reveal a man of about thirty, who had pointed features and a long, drawn out face.
"CBI, May we have a word" Lisbon recited without a hint of expression. Lisbon stepped forward, ready to enter regardless of the man's answer.
The man shook his head slightly in confusion, but moved over to let the crew in and directed them to a room further long on the right. Patrick gently closed the door behind him, and turned around to find Jessica staring, mouth open. He exaggerated following her eye line only to lay his eyes on the most peculiar sculpture he had seen; It was so…. Realistic. There was a woman around her late thirty's, her blond hair sat in a sophisticated bob, thick black glasses perched at the end of her nose with brown piercing eyes. She lent against the banister of the landing which the green carpeted stairs branched out onto. She had one leg propped up against the other, and her arms gently crossed. She stared at the newcomers- Warning them. The broach she wore caught the light, and the red appeared to seep across the lily that was pinned to her with gold.
The others had begun the routine questions; where were you on the night of the murder, can anyone testify for you…. The low mumbling drifter away as Jessica slowly creeped up the stairs, making a beeline for the sculpture- she was a practising artist herself. As she was two steps from the top, she was overcome with the undeniable tang of vinegar, burning its way through her nose. Upon approaching the body, the sheer magnificent of it started to be perceived, the tiny fine golden hairs that coated her skin, the hairs individually created. Her hand reached out about to run her fingertips along the woman- it was to detailed to be clay, to warm to be marble- possibly latex? Her fingertips stroked the side of the face. It was incredible, if anything it felt like real….
"Jess, come on" her thoughts were quickly interrupted by Lisbon calling up the stairs to her. She hurried down the stairs and quite literally into the man whom had been referred to as David.
"oh, sorry" she laughed at her clumsiness, but the man simply grunted at her.
" what material do you use, for your sculptures I mean. They are incredibly lifelike"
"latex" a short response was snapped by the husky voice.
"thanks" She smiled a smile and quickly hurried out to catch up with her colleagues unaware of the eyes that were boring into her back.
A patch of flowers caught her eye just as she was about to get into the car, the others were busily chatting amongst themselves, so she hurried of to where they lay. The most beautiful lilies stood proudly upright, their burgundy petals seem to reach out, gently curling at the edges. She was about to squat down to further investigate the flowers when a pair of rough hands grabbed her shoulders, pulling her back and when she sharply inhaled to yell a dirty thick hand tightly grasped over her mouth. The events happened so quickly, she had no time to react, the next thing she new, she was being dragged around to the back of the house, all the while she was being tightly restrained, when they finally stopped, she was thrown to the ground the sound of her head cracking as she hit the jagged rock was barely audible past the gate and darkness slowly began to swallow her, she barely noticed the glint of the knife, and the pain which spread from her side along her chest, it felt like it was slowly crushing her lungs. And then the dark night came in the middle of the day.
Patrick shifted warily in his seat, conscious of how long Jess had been- after all, she only walked around the corner. There was a silence, as everyone seemed to be contemplating the same thing.
" I should just go and check she's ok" Patrick shot a quick glance at Lisbon
"Yeah I'll come to" the red head's hands automatically went to were her gun lay.
"No," Lisbon interjected "Van pelt, you stay here- keep a look out. I'll go."
Grace's face shifted slightly in annoyance, but then quickly composed her face and returned to scoping the blank road that lay before her.
Patrick's tight leather shoe crunched against the grass as he stepped out of the car; it had started to frost over. He quickly hurried behind Lisbon- it took all of his effort to stay behind her in case there were guns about and not to run on ahead.
An old wooden gate hung on one of the rusted hinges; it had started to rot up one side. Lisbon's petit hand stretched out and warily pushed the gate open. It had to have been one of the longest seconds of Patricks life, as he stood there tensed and ready to run watching the gate slowly creak open, groaning in protest at having to move.
Both their eyes widened in horror at the bloody scene that lay before them. There she was, on the floor surrounded by a pool of frosting blood. Her head was slumped against a sharp rock that protruded from the hard ground, blood had trickled down her face, and fallen down the sides of her freckled nose; tears of blood. As they stood there in the moment of shock, their eyes made their way down to the indented waste in her curved body where the long silver handle of a sleek kitchen knife awkwardly stuck out. It must have been deeply impaled; the blade could hardly be seen.
Patrick shifted anxiously in the white room. He gave a prolonged gaze at the sleeping brunette, watching her chest rhythmically fall up and down simultaneously with the sound of the gasses passing through the oxygen mask. She still had some trails of dried blood down her face which in the panic, had been forgotten to be cleaned of. His stomach emitted a low grumble, and his gaze then shifted sorrowfully onto his stomach- he patted it gently and whispered some reassuring words.
He looked at the big clock through the overly large glass panels surrounding the small room. Two fifteen. His eyes returned to watch her rhythmical breathing, she had been unconscious for a good few hours now. It seemed undignified to let her lay there, on display, and covered in blood, so Patrick stood up and quietly hung some spare bed sheets from the rails where curtains should have been.. He stood back and smiled proudly, admiring his handy work- at least it provided a bit more privacy. He quickly tiptoed out of the room and returned within a few minutes with a handful of cotton wall, and a delicate bowl filled with lukewarm water. He swiftly made his way to the side of the bed, dipped the cotton wool in the water and tenderly began to clean the dried blood from her face, the cotton wool barely touching her skin. He managed to clean the whole lot of without her so much as fluttering an eyelid (never mind the fact she was probably in a comatised state.) he lent forward, brushing his lips against her forehead, when a shrill tune squealed from his pocket. He grabbed at each pocket, unsure where it came from, and scrambled to remove the sleek, flat phone from his inner breast pocket during his panic, he almost dropped his phone twice, and gave up trying to hold his hands still long enough to turn the damn thing of, so resorted to pulling the back of and snapping the battery out. He stood still, hoping he had not woken the sleeping beauty that lay before him, he gave a sigh of relief, and fell backwards into the chair just as an almighty crack sounded, and the next thing he knew, he was sitting on the floor surrounded by plastic chair legs. A light groan filled the room, and after realising that it was in fact too high pitched to be his own (although in the position he had just landed in, he wouldn't be surprised if it was.) He hopped to his feet, to see Jessica's eye lids fluttering gently, her hand attempted to rise, but quickly fell probably due to the high dose of morphine which was trickling into the back her wired up hand. After many failed attempts her eyelids unwillingly parted, and it was evident that they were completely out of focus. He leaned forward as he would do a new born baby so she could make out the vague features of his face. A glow of realisation swarmly spread across her face, as he smiled his secret smile which had become hers.
"Hey" she whispered, her voice was deep with sleep and morphine.
"Hey" he beamed back at her. She suddenly began to look around her, as her eyes began to focus, and the heart rate monitor quickly increased its monotonous beating. She tried to sit up, but was still too weak. Patrick perched on the edge of the cold hospital bed, and quickly began explaining the event.
"how long have I been here for " her voice still had the croak of sleep in it.
His eyes cast a gentle smile "since about eight this morning"
She groaned a little at the time she had wasted, even though there was no clock in the room, she could smell the awful smell of hospital food drifting up from under the door, and then watched as a busy nurse scuttled by with a cart of dirty trays and dishes.
A light knock sounded at the door, and they both peered up to see the incoming doctor. His dark hair was slicked back, and undersized round glasses hung onto the end of his large crooked ratish nose. His shoulder were hunched, his eyes small.
"Dr Jeratson" he went on quickly giving no time to respond " I trust the morphine has helped greatly, how are you feeling." It was more of a statement than a question and hurriedly continued "I just need to give you a once over and change the dressing" he scuttled forward and busily set about preparing the new dressing his long crooked fingers hung limply from the bony hands. Even the way he moved resembled a rat; his long bent nose protruding and his long scrawny neck.
Patrick reluctantly moved from his spot on the bed, keeping his gaze held on the man all the while. He returned to his chair, and the doctor awkwardly sat down replacing Patrick, his legs look awkwardly long and gangly.
"I'll start off with changing your dressing" he gestured for Jessica to sit up and offered no help when she couldn't. Patrick quickly lent forward to help prop her up, disliking the doctor more by the minuet. As he sat back down in his chair, a sharp prick sent a slight pain along his thigh.
The skin and bone fingers reached out, peeling the thin bed sheet back. An audible silence fell upon the room, Jessica hardly noticed the old hospital gown she was wearing. Her concern was more on seeing this apparent wound. She had loose papery trousers on underneath the gown; the doctor lifted up the gown slightly, hesitated, and then continued revealing all of her stomach. A huge great bandage was wrapped around were her stomach was, and the doctor began to remove itt, a patch of dark blood had begun to spread across it, and some trickled down as the last layer was removed. She gasped at the sight the bandages revealed when they were removed, a huge blood saturated plaster was covering her waist on the left, the fingers eagerly started to pull back the plaster, Jessica simply watched- frozen.
A dark thick tear was revealed, wet with blood, the stitches only just holding it together. The cut was evidently deep, crawling its way down to her hip. Almost instantaneously a sharp blade went running down the wound, cutting open all the stiches, burrowing its way deeper and deeper. Jessica was vaguely aware of the scream she herd, oblivious that it was her own she doubled over in pain.
"Patrick" she gasped between breathes however the man did not respond, he was so busy watching the doctor, that by the time he realised he had a needle in him, it was too late. The sound of the scream he could distantly hear in his drug induced sleep made his very bones go cold.