The Red Signal
A quick glance was enough for him to understand. They had found Red John.
Lisbon had tried not to show any emotion, but the slight trembling of her hand as she hung up the phone didn't escape his notice.
He stood up, reached for his jacket and casually headed for the door.
"Where are you going, Jane?"
Lisbon's voice rang like cold steel in the empty office.
He wheeled round and faced her, a charming smile on his lips.
"I think I shall take a walk".
"Liar".
Jane shrugged his shoulders and laughed so naturally that Lisbon could almost believe him – if only she hadn't known.
He was surprised to find the door locked. He didn't expect that.
"I've underestimated you, Lisbon".
There was a dangerous note in the pleasant tone of his voice.
She simply stared at him, cocking her head to one side – just as if he was a naughty little boy.
"The key".
A heavy silence fell into the room. Neither of them was willing to give in.
"The key, Lisbon".
"No".
Jane slowly drew his hand out of his pocket, revealing the pistol.
"Please, don't force me to use it".
"You'd never do that. You know it, just as I do".
"Give – me – that – damned – key".
"You're so good at reading people's mind… Try and guess where I've hidden it".
She turned her back to him, determined to ignore his look – the haunted look of a trapped animal.
Swearing under his breath, Jane laid his pistol con the desk and started searching the drawers, the shelves full of dust-covered folders, the chocolate box Van Pelt had offered them in the morning.
It was no use. He could not think straight. He simply had to get out quickly.
"You have no right to keep me here".
"I have".
"Really?"
Lisbon ignored his sarcastic tone.
"I have the right to prevent you from doing harm to yourself".
Jane's laughter sounded somewhat unnatural.
"You're not my mother, Lisbon".
"But I'm your friend".
Momentarily taken aback, Jane didn't reply.
They both started when the phone rang.
"We've caught him".
Tears of joy filled her eyes. It took her a few moments to recover before answering Cho.
"Well done".
She looked up and met Jane's eyes.
"You shouldn't have done this to me, Lisbon. John was mine".
He sank into the couch and buried his face in his hands.
A wide range of conflicting feelings raced through his mind. Anger, because he had been robbed of his vengeance. Relief, because the nightmare was finally over. And, above all, an overwhelming feeling of emptiness, growing to swallow any other thought.
He did not move when Lisbon sat down next to him and gently laid her hand on his harm.
"Jane…"
He reacted sharply to the sympathy he felt in her voice.
"Don't say anything. Please".
Lisbon felt a pang in her heart as she considered his clenched fists and the look of pain that twisted his face.
"Jane, look at me. It's all over".
In his eyes anger gave way to something that was hard to tell. Unexpectedly released from the burden he had been carrying for so long, he found himself completely defenceless against his own pent-up sorrow.
"John should have been mine".
Suddenly he yielded and laid his head on Lisbon's shoulder, crying just like a child.
"It's over, Jane. You are free".