Chapter 2: The Double Headed Coin

These late nights burning the midnight oil were starting to take their toll on Dr Miller, but she needed but to press ahead checking the drafts sent over by her typing service. There were a couple of addendums in the light of her latest observations, but apart from that everything was looking good. Of course it wasn't strictly ethical to be writing about a current patient, but Patrick Jane was such a fascinating subject that the temptation proved too much. Hopefully this would be a seminal work that she could use as a springboard to re-launch her academic career. Working as a hands on psychotherapist had its rewards, but it was emotionally draining, although she was in no rush to relinquish her role with Patrick Jane until her book was finished.

Miller didn't have the archetypal doctor patient relationship with Jane; in order to reach into his psyche it had been necessary to bare something of herself to him to establish a degree of trust. The resultant relationship was complex, sometimes fractious, other times nurturing, increasingly wary, but slowly Jane had returned to a semblance of normality – within his terms of reference at any rate.

People thought she was too close to him, but she needed the close interaction to complete her research and was by no means as pliable to his will as everyone thought. It was a fascinating case, and one she had not seen the like of before, by no means a text book scenario it had opened Miller's eyes to new possibilities. There was method to her gently, gently approach; quite apart from safeguarding the patient's well being, it bought her more time to complete her study.

It had been 4 months since Jane had been admitted to Miller's establishment, the primary objective had just been to stabilise the gibbering wreck of a man. A combination of drug therapy and later counselling rescued him from his raging soliloquy - the rantings of a lunatic, spiralling into a vortex of self pity, inexorably headed for the black hole of despondency, a place as grim as death itself.

Although there was still a long way to go, Miller rightly took some pride in seeing Jane's transformation. He was nothing like the traumatised shell of a man she'd first met, tormented by what were generally accepted to be his own actions.

No one knew what had precipitated the tragedy; by all accounts they were a devoted family but reports of a disturbance had been reported by a neighbour earlier in the day. A man had been seen leaving the Jane household, the screeching of tyres marking the hurried departure. No one had paid any attention at the time, Patrick Jane's dubious career choice occasionally backfired on him when furious husbands and partners confronted him. Apart from some raised eyebrows at his more outrageous exploits, few of his neighbours were in a position to throw stones at his career choice; as realtors and brokers they all made their living by exploiting people's dreams one way or another.

It wasn't that he had any particular designs on the women, well apart from lightening their bank accounts. He enjoyed the chase but had no interest in pursuing his conquests further; it was always about control more than anything. An incorrigible flirt at the best of times, he took refuge behind his wedding ring when things threatened to get out of hand, it was his talisman to ward off unwelcome advances and to confer a degree of respectability to him.

It hadn't escaped Miller's notice that the bond Jane strove to form with his clients was not unlike her relationship with her patients in many respects. Of course it was a fine line to tread, between getting close enough to let someone to trust you completely with their innermost thoughts, without awakening any amatory urges. Not that it did any harm if they fell a little bit in love with him, so long as it helped loosen the purse strings. Once his foot was in the door he would let them down gently, sharing little confidences about his own family to establish a safer foothold.

They were a very self contained family unit, happy in so far as outsiders could tell. No one wanted to believe the implications of the crime scene, least of all his erstwhile clients. Some tried to explain it away as some psychic phenomena, others said he must have been possessed by the spirits to commit such a demonic act. The rumour was that the poor man had been driven mad by the spirits. The wider implications of events were still not in the public domain; the police officer who'd been called in by the neighbours had realised the significance straight away, and a veil of secrecy had been imposed.

The part open front door had raised suspicions of a burglary, but experienced as the patrol officer was, he wasn't prepared for the blood fest that awaited him. At first it looked like there were three victims, with their blood soaked clothes, but the paramedics soon realised that the man curled up in a foetal position was in fact still breathing. Reluctantly the police accepted there was nothing they could do with him, and at this point Jane had entered Dr Miller's care.

Up until now Miller had never broached the subject of the crime, although ultimately it was part of her strategy, but with all the outside pressures Miller accepted she was going to have to start stepping up the pace.

Jane had accepted that he'd been ill, and with his energy reserves depleted he hadn't got the fight to question it too deeply. His memories were patchy at best, he'd assumed there had been some head trauma that had precipitated some psychological problems. Why else would he be there? The recurring headaches had started to ease off, he was becoming more alert and had started to ask Miller questions, gradually she started to fill the gaps in. The revelation that he was brought up on the Carnie circuit and had made his living as a psychic was greeted by a paroxysm of boyish laughter.

Well before Lisbon's visit the questions were becoming more pressing; although whole swathes of his memory were still blanked out there was a steady trickle of flash backs, some more disturbing than others. He remembered enough of his old ways to start honing his skills on the attendants, and already had a cornucopia of tricks at his disposal by time he first met Lisbon. Jane hadn't entirely bought the idea that she was consulting with him, there was some ruse afoot, but he decided to play along with it. She was a welcome and diverting distraction, and besides it was fun pressing her buttons. However he hadn't missed the warning tone in Sophie's words and would treat Lisbon with a degree of healthy scepticism next time around.

Ignoring Jane's request, Miller had done her best to put a stop to the visits by going above Lisbon's head. Apprised of Lisbon's suspicions, her boss backed her to the hilt, in no small part due to the Doctor's overbearing manner.

Less nervous than her first visit Lisbon turned up at the facility only to be confronted by a frosty Dr Miller. "I have grave misgivings about this, he is not ready. If you push him too far I can't guarantee his reaction. He's not ready to face up to reality yet."

Still smarting from Miller's attempts to derail their investigation Lisbon matched her coolness. "So you say Dr Miller. We'll play by your rules for now, but my bosses are clamouring for results."

Lisbon was led into the room by a young attendant."Aah, visiting time at the zoo." Jane quipped with a welcoming smile. "I suppose a nice cup of Darjeeling is out of the question Sam?"

The softly spoken attendant smiled indulgently. "I'm afraid we're rather low on Darjeeling at the moment Patrick. I can manage a glass of water if you want. Perhaps Agent Lisbon would like one? "

Lisbon shook her head by way of an answer, noting the subtle byplay between the men as Jane smiled benignly at the departing man.

"I can see by your demeanour that you're ready for business Agent Lisbon. I assume you've had your orders from the Gruppenführer." Jane cast an amused look at the observation panel. Rightly guessing there would be a clash of personalities.

Lisbon refused to dignify his comment with a response, knowing full well he would try a divide and rule tactic. Nothing would suit him better than to play one woman off against the other.

"Oh you're no fun Teresa, always so buttoned up and professional. But that's not really you at all is it? A fiery temperament is in your DNA, a relic of your tough Chicago upbringing. Second generation Irish Americans I would hazard a guess." Jane leant forward in anticipation of a response.

Lisbon couldn't entirely suppress a smile; he'd been quick off the mark today, though if she wasn't mistaken he seemed edgier this time. "Talking of heritage Mr Jane, I believe your father's family hailed from the old country. I understand you were brought up on the Carnie circuit." She affected to peer at her notes before looking at him with a smile. "The Boy Wonder no less."

"We all have our crosses to bear." He said carefully, eyeing Lisbon up warily, impressed that she'd managed to turn things back on him so deftly.

"The boy scout act must have been galling as the years went by?" Lisbon relished the fleeting look of annoyance on his face.

"What can I say, my father's sartorial choices left a lot to be desired." He affected a nonchalant shrug.

"Unlike the shiny mohair suits you prefer." Her eyebrows rose questioningly.

"Bravo Agent Lisbon, you have done your research." He instinctively ran his hand down his lapel in appreciation of the fine tailoring. "Although I wouldn't have thought the Gentleman's Gazette was your journal of choice, but I expect you can probably recite the Glock catalogue verbatim by now." There was a frisson of excitement in their sparring as their eyes locked in combat.

Lisbon blinked first. "What can I say, some people prefer Prada, but a Glock will always be my fashion accessory of choice."

"Quite the poster girl for the NRA." Jane looked her up and down in a deliberate way, hoping it would make her uncomfortable. Disappointingly she seemed more confident of her reactions this time around.

"Now that we've mentioned them, perhaps you could tell me more about your family Mr Jane." Lisbon ventured.

"I have no family." Jane responded coolly without a flicker of emotion.

"What none at all?" Lisbon persisted, imagining Miller's response to this line of questioning.

"Why are you asking me questions that you already know the answer to?" There was a trace of irritation to his voice. "I guess we're both lone wolves, although you keep your family at bay by choice. Let me guess, your parents died young and you became the prime carer. As soon as you could, you made your escape and never looked back, though you still bear the guilt of deserting your siblings." Seeing he had scored a direct hit, he couldn't resist turning the screw.

"Of course the children of addicts are always worried that the apple never falls far from the tree. You're young to be in a position like this, dedicated and hard working. Your career is your addiction and it's a cruel mistress. Determined not to fall prey to temptation, you're harder on yourself than others, memories of some dark secret haunt you.

"You certainly won't be short of attention, but don't want to encourage rumours about your private life. It's insidious when people start talking about a woman's weakness, suggesting your judgment is somehow impaired by your hormones. So your life is littered with failed liaisons, partly due to fear of commitment but also an abiding distrust of controlling men. You like to be on top, figuratively speaking."

Leaving a momentary pause for reaction, Jane flicked his tongue out over his lips like a reptile sampling the air for pheromones. Dismayed by her apparent indifference, his eyes narrowed and he unleashed a cruel barb. "Of course it's easier to keep people at a distance; you don't get hurt that way. But what will you have to show for it in 20 years time? A desultory police pension, a rundown Condo that masquerades as a home, and a rescue dog for company. Reduced to hanging round the Irish bars, bolstered by a few drinks, looking out for the occasional pickup. You're the easy lay, who asks nothing in return. The local bike, a free ride for anyone unworried by the mileage on the clock. A poor testimony for a life spent in public service."

Somewhat shell shocked by the ferocity of his own words, he sank back in his chair. Where had that come from? He nevertheless took some satisfaction from seeing her tightly pressed lips whiten with anger.

"If you've quite finished Mr Jane, shall we get back to the reason for this meeting." Lisbon declined to dignify his comments, having no intention of feeding his egotistical need for attention. She was still recoiling at the accuracy of his barbs - was that really what the future held for her?

She pulled out a few of the case files and pushed them towards him. "Perhaps you can apply your skills to something more constructive, like looking for a common thread to these cases."

"You mean apart from the victims being dead?" Now that he had started, he couldn't help but push her buttons.

"Seeing as they're victims, that's taken as read." Jane smiled at her sarcasm, grudgingly admiring the way she had ridden his assault.

Lisbon's phone vibrated in her pocket; she just ignored it, but the calls persisted. Obviously the caller was determined to speak to her, and before long the attendant Sam called her to an outside call. Reluctantly Lisbon left Jane perusing the case files; it was Minelli demanding an update. The DA's office had assigned the legendary Karen Cross, of the near perfect conviction rate, to the case. She'd had a case go pear shaped on her, and she was looking to rebuild her reputation off the back of this case, and wouldn't be taking any prisoners in her determination to get a result. In her eyes the case was a slam dunk and a welcome diversion from the Dahl case.

Lisbon puffed her cheeks out as she rang off. "Look, I know you don't think he's ready but the prosecutors are pushing for an arraignment. They'll arrange for an independent opinion if you try and obstruct them. We need to talk to him about what happened."

"They can't do that we're not ready." Miller insisted.

"They can and they will, the arraignment can take place by video if necessary, but if you want this to happen in a controlled way, you need to start talking to him." Lisbon wasn't particularly happy either, but at least this might prove the catalyst to get things moving.

They both turned in time to see Jane taking another file from Lisbon's folder, he had Angela and Charlotte's photographs in front of him and a frown appeared on his face. He looked up at the observation room suspiciously.

"I'll send Sam in to retrieve your files. It's better if you don't see him until after I've spoken to him." Miller guessed Lisbon was the lesser of two evils at this juncture; Karen Cross's reputation preceded her, regularly being hailed by the media for her uncompromising stance.

Jane thumbed his temples, feeling the sudden onset of a headache. Sam approached him tentatively; the warning signs were there to see. "Patrick, Agent Lisbon sends her excuses. I've been told to take you back to your room. Come with me now." Sam reached out to help him up, but Jane swatted his hand away angrily.

"I know you're there. Will someone tell me what's going on?" Jane glared at the observation panel.

"Dr Miller says she'll be with you shortly." Sam tried to mollify him.

Jane still refused to move, knowing better than to force the issue, Sam retrieved the files and made a tactical retreat.

"Do you really think he can switch from one personality to another?" Lisbon still wasn't convinced.

"Didn't you read that paper I sent you?" Miller's patience was running thin. "Even his so called psychic abilities could be explained by the auditory and visual hallucinations associated with the condition."

"But I thought he was a fake?" Lisbon grimaced at the thought that Jane actually may have some powers.

"He probably is most of the time, but he feels things in a way that other people don't. Just watch some of the recordings of him at work, it's quite remarkable the way he throws himself into a trance, as if it really is an out of body experience. Perhaps he's falling back on some experience that he doesn't understand himself." It was hard to rationalise, but this formed the premise of Miller's treatise.

"Nah. It's just a trick, NLP, mentalism whatever you want to call it." Lisbon found the idea hard to entertain.

"Possibly, but have you ever seen anyone pull it off as well as Patrick?" Sophie had no doubt that his sub-conscious fell back on some inner resource that he had no control of.

"So this alter ego, what's he like?" Lisbon's eyes narrowed sceptically.

"Superficially much the same as the man you see here. Most times you wouldn't be able to tell the difference. I've only caught glimpses of him, but he has a cruel and viscous streak beneath his urbane veneer."

Lisbon looked suspiciously at Jane through the observation pane. "So what he said to me, would that have been Patrick or John?"

Miller sighed. "Well that's the eternal conundrum. People naïvely assume there's a battle of good against evil, warring for control of a person. In fact neither personality is perfect. One is just as capable as behaving badly as the other, but the differences are in the boundaries of their behaviour." Miller frowned at the glowering look on Jane's face.

"So is that Patrick or John?" Lisbon jerked her head in Jane's direction.

Miller just shook her head at the oversimplification. "It's not like the movies Agent Lisbon, where people can change from one persona to another, as easily as tossing a double headed coin.

"In possession-form cases of dissociative identity disorder the alternate identities are obvious to people, but in non-possession forms the individual may not overtly display their change in identity for long periods of time.

"The transitions may be triggered by psychological stress, but the alternate identity, sometimes known as the EP or the emotional part of the personality, can happily masquerade as the ANP or the apparently normal part of the personality. Although the situation cannot be reversed, the ANP can never pretend to be the EP and may not even be aware of the EP's existence."

"So this EP may take over without anyone noticing, to the outside world he's just the same person he ever was?" Lisbon looked hard at Jane, his attitude had been noticeably different today, but he seemed genuinely shocked when he had overstepped the mark. It all reinforced her suspicions about the gray area Jane inhabited. She didn't envy Miller her task in making Jane aware of the realities, but it had to be done and the sooner the better.

The stakes were going to be much higher next time she visited, and she'd need to keep her wits about her.