A/N: Sorry for the delay. I got the flu for my birthday and am only just getting better. Thanks to: Jane Doe51, Miss Peg and phoenixx87 for reviewing the past chapter.
x tromana
Chapter Seven
"You're going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep up that pacing, Teresa," Jane remarked lightly.
They were in his office, waiting for news. In lieu of actually doing anything constructive, Jane was lounging on the battered leather couch opposite the main entrance to the room. Lisbon didn't know where he got it from, and frankly she didn't care. It looked well past its best and she figured he had an unnatural affinity towards it. But then, that was just Patrick Jane all over. He had an inordinate amount of love for bruised and broken things; his car and Lisbon herself were testament to that. There had once been a time when it concerned her just how little he appeared to do during a typical work day. She had actually wondered just how Jane actually managed to keep up with all the paperwork that the job entailed. Then, she realized that he simply did it at night, when nobody else was about to disturb him. Jane was a chronic insomniac; he found it easier to rest during the day when people were around and could focus on the mundane tasks at night. As well as the insomnia, she wouldn't have been surprised if he suffered from separation anxiety too. That would explain why he found it far easier to do everything in reverse to what normal people did.
But for now, Jane and his idiosyncrasies were not the main issue of the day. Their suspect and sole lead to Red John was slowly slipping through their fingers. Lisbon knew that the doctors were fighting tooth and nail to save his life, but sometimes, that just wasn't enough. She clenched her fist and then relaxed it a couple of times. What she hated most was the sense of being out of control; that was another thing that was her father's fault. He had taken charge of her life and as a consequence, she now could not bear it when there was nothing she could do. And that was why she was currently pacing around Jane's office, unable to focus on anything else at all. It was why she was feeling so stressed and like her temper was going to get the better of her, if she wasn't careful. If they just knew, either way, then she would feel much better. Naturally, she would have preferred it if the man survived: they would then be able to discover more about Red John. However, closure either way would have been of some sort of use.
Of course, there was another, more important underlying issue with this specific Red John case. He knew, more or less, everything they knew about him and how he worked. Years of painstaking research had fallen into his possession and naturally, that meant he now had the upper hand. It was all because Jane had taken the abridged files outside of the CBI Headquarters that Red John had gotten hold of them. There was also the not so insignificant issue of precisely who had poisoned their suspect - a case which was quickly turning into a potential murder case. There was also the possibility that it was suicide; for a while, they hadn't been able to rule that out. However, before placement in holding cells, all suspects were patted down and forced to turn out their pockets in order to weed out potential evidence pertaining to their case, suicide drugs and weapons. Therefore, the obvious – and therefore, most probably correct - answer was most likely that Red John had a mole buried somewhere deep within the CBI.
However, CBI staff were rigorously examined prior to their hiring in order to weed out inappropriate people for the job. Even the lowliest of cleaners was subject to this kind of selection. This was to ensure that every single member of staff on the payroll could be entirely trusted with sensitive confidential information. Even Lisbon had gone through it and despite her murky past, which was mostly due to her father, she had gone through it clear. But this situation was unsettling. One of their number, most likely a security guard as they had the most regular access to the holding cells, was not to be trusted. Somehow, without triggering too much suspicion, they had to discover the identity of this person and question them before they slipped through their fingers. And that was precisely what Wayne Rigsby was working on at this moment in time.
But, it left her with nothing to do. Unless the paper trails brought up someone or something, then there was nobody for her to question or psychoanalyze. There was no crime scene for her to pick through, detail by detail. She just couldn't make the sharp observations which the team relied upon in some cases with no information whatsoever. In theory, she could have found something else to do, but her mind was so caught up that even Jane was noticing her behavior.
"I'm fine," she answered stiffly and she stopped pacing to stare him down briefly.
"Sure you are. Lisbon, you need to relax."
"This is Red John, Jane. I can't relax."
Jane looked at her skeptically but then, he promptly dropped it. Lisbon was glad; she hated having to explain herself to him, even though he was her boss. Some things she just felt the need to keep fiercely private and she knew that he understood that. After all, he often reacted in exactly the same way to her. She couldn't help feeling the way she did about this case; anyone in her position would react in a similar way too. In fact, some would take it too far and make promises of vengeance and blood being spilled. As far as she was concerned, Jane should have considered himself lucky that his consultant was merely interested in justice. After all, it wasn't just her family who had died at Red John's knife, but many other people too. She couldn't justify to herself being so selfish and taking Red John's life for herself; every other family and friend of a victim of Red John's deserved closure just as much as she did. Then, there was the issue of her faith. The very thought of killing someone, even in response to their murder of her loved ones, repelled her. Part of the reason she volunteered her services to the CBI was in order to speed up the process for everyone afflicted by him.
Jane's cellphone rang, distracting Lisbon from her train of thoughts and she was glad of it. Sometimes, her mind took her to dark places, ones which she didn't really like to visit. She watched, somewhat warily, as he made a fuss about answering it. From what she could tell about the half of the conversation that she could hear, it was nothing to do with Red John or their seriously ill contact with him. Instead, it was either a D.A. requesting his time for some mundane meeting or, more likely, a new case which required their expertise. Jane looked grim as he bid the other person farewell and then he stood, stretching the muscles in his back as he did so.
"I have a distraction for you, come on," he instructed.
"New case?" she asked as they left his office in step with one another.
"New case," he echoed.
After rounding up the rest of the team, and giving them the details that he knew, including the location of the body, they were on their way. Somewhat reluctantly, Lisbon joined Jane in his Citroen - he couldn't even use one of the standard issue SUVs during working hours - despite her inherent dislike for the thing. There was something about Jane's demeanor since he had ended the phone call to the DA that had irked her and that was always bothering. She could tell that he didn't like something about this case; her curiosity meant that she had to work out precisely what. Of course, Jane was very often akin to a closed book, she knew that it would require some effort to ease it out of him. A journey in an enclosed space, with nowhere else to run, and just one another for company seemed like an opportunity too good for her to miss.
"You're not religious; why does a body in a church bother you so much?"
She only asked the question after they had indulged in a brief moment of inane chatter. Lisbon couldn't just throw him in at the deep end; it wasn't fair on him. Still, Jane shrugged noncommittally and kept his eyes firmly on the road. Their job took them to all manner of unusual locations and this one was no different. When she had heard that the body had been discovered in a Catholic Church during their brief meeting in the bullpen, she had expected Jane to be ambivalent about it. Anywhere could be a crime scene theoretically, and at the very least, it was something new. Still, churches weren't sacred spaces to him, not like her, and yet their reactions appeared to have been the reverse of what would have ordinarily been expected of them.
"I don't like churches," Jane said stiffly, confirming what she had already surmised.
"Why not?" she asked, curious.
"My mom was religious - deeply so - she..." The breath caught in his throat and he seemed unable to continue speaking. He shook his head and then he focused on the road again. As far as he was concerned, the conversation was over.
But, he had already said more than enough for her to sink her teeth into it. Lisbon remembered. Before joining the CBI she had researched Patrick Jane as thoroughly as she could. She had read an article about the car crash which had taken his mother's life too soon. The woman had been running errands – picking up medication for a young Patrick Jane, specifically - and had apparently dropped by her church after she had finished. That was probably so she could offer up some prayers for her sick son. She had been on her way home from the church when she had died. That would have been enough to put him off going into one – he most likely associated her death both with himself and the church - and therefore, it was enough to quash any development of fledgling faith. As a Catholic herself, Lisbon found the concept of a young Patrick Jane's faith dying along with his mother deeply saddening. She used her religion to keep a grip on hope; it was something she had definitely inherited from her mother. For a short while, she had questioned religion and her beliefs and at that time, she had nearly lost everything, including her own identity. It was only upon rediscovering her faith that she had begun to mend the damage done by Red John.
And in part, that was another reason why she couldn't bring herself to kill Red John with her own bare hands. An eye for an eye, and soon, the whole world would be blind. Of course, if she assisted upon getting an airtight case and arresting Red John, it was highly unlikely that he would escape the death penalty, unless he claimed insanity. But, in her opinion, that was different. It wasn't her decision; it was how justice was served in the state of California. It had taken some effort, but she now found herself at peace with the concept. If it made potential murders give pause to the concept of what they were doing, then that was lives saved. And if people who had committed heinous acts died, and that helped people to move on with their lives, then so be it.
But for now, that was all irrelevant. There was another murderer for them to focus their attentions on. As much as she wanted to focus on Red John - especially with them being so close, and yet, far away from a lead - she couldn't. At least, not until there was either a development in the condition of their person of interest or until this new case had been closed. She shook her head to clear her thoughts; she was paid to do a job, ergo she was going to do it to the very best of her abilities.
The church was located in a sleepy suburb, but that hadn't stopped a gaggle of people from gathering on one side of the yellow tape that had been erected around the church. From the moment that Lisbon stepped out of Jane's death trap of a car, she could already hear the hushed whispering of the gossips. This was probably one of the most exciting things to have happened in this place for years. Still, both she and Jane ignored the furtive glances and the attempts to start conversation. Instead, they hopped over the tape and headed towards the church. Jane lingered for a second before he started to speak.
"You go on ahead. I'll talk to the first responders and wait for the others to arrive."
Lisbon nodded. She knew that this was Jane's way of delaying going into the building, but she didn't expand on it. It wasn't her place to push him into doing something he didn't want to do. Besides he was her boss and as eccentric as he was, she still felt compelled to respect him for it. So, she left him to talk to the young and inexperienced officers who had been first on the scene of the crime and headed inside by herself. She knew that Jane could trust her to do the right thing in a crime scene, without the need for a babysitter. Lisbon understood and respected the importance of evidence. Sometimes, she even paid closer attention to it than the cops she worked with.
The church was deathly silent but Lisbon didn't feel uncomfortable. Usually, she felt at home in churches, and especially so at this kind as it was Catholic. However, the silence was eerie this time around and she knew exactly why. After the first responders, who were milling around outside and talking to Jane, she was the first person to arrive at this crime scene. Automatically, she dipped two fingers into the holy water and made the sign of the cross. Then, she offered a silent prayer for the deceased. Some claimed that her religion was at odds with her abilities and what her father had taught her, but Lisbon had found peace in both of them a long time ago. It was only after she had finished with her prayers and respects that she headed towards the dead body. She needed to make sense of it all before there was too much interruption and noise from the others.
His eyes were closed and were it not for the fact he had been foaming at the mouth, he could have been sleeping. This man had been poisoned to death, and she wouldn't have been surprised if the same toxin had been used in each instance. Excepting the cross that hung around his neck, much like Lisbon's own, he was also naked. Though he had probably died within this building, Lisbon didn't think his current location or positioning was precisely where he had been killed. After all, how many people died with their arms and legs spread out, so that the body almost formed the shape of a star? Intrigued, she took a few more steps forwards and it was then that she noticed the rough patterns sketched along the floor. This was clearly the mark of a pre-planned murder, and one of somebody who most certainly knew what they were doing. The body was displayed in a decent facsimile of Leonardo Da Vinci's Virtruvian Man. Briefly, she smirked. A religious building and science intermingled together in the presentation of a dead body? If that wasn't a message, she didn't know what was.
Eventually, and as expected, the deathly silence was soon interrupted. In some respects, Lisbon was relieved. The quiet and solitude were slowly but surely beginning to get to her. As interesting as the body was, after she had taken her first looks at it, it was always far more useful to bounce ideas off of somebody to start to formulate ideas properly. Lisbon wheeled around on her heels to see Jane walking towards her with Grace Van Pelt not far behind. Briefly, Van Pelt lingered by the holy water, undecided as to whether or not to actually dip her fingers into it as Lisbon had done so some twenty minutes ago. Eventually, she appeared to decide to forgo the action and instead, looked skywards, with her eyes closed for a moment of quiet prayer. Lisbon knew that the younger woman was religious, but she wasn't the type to wear it on her sleeve; it was a more personal issue for her. Lisbon couldn't judge her for the decision to keep her religion fiercely private. Like Van Pelt, she didn't talk much about her beliefs to other people, but she did wear her mom's cross and paid her respects whenever she was in a religious building. But Van Pelt's behavior provided minor amusement; however, it was already time to cast those thoughts aside. They were here to do a job, not for her to psychoanalyze her work colleagues. That was something she could do (and did do) in her own free time.
"What do you think?" she asked after Jane had taken a moment to regard the crime scene.
"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" Jane quipped with a smirk.
"Ha, very droll," she responded and smirked. "Well then?"
"It's definitely a message. Science and religion. The victim's name is Stefan Benton, 29, born and raised here in Sacramento," Jane said, filling in the gaps in her knowledge about the victim. "He recently started working as a pastor here, but previously studied for a degree with a major in human biology. Then, he 'saw the light' and ended up here."
Jane gestured to the naked body lying prone in front of them and the dry tone in his voice was unmistakable. Despite being fully aware of his subordinates' beliefs, he still seemed to find it virtually impossible to show any respect towards religion of any sort and his disdain wasn't purely reserved for Christianity either. Lisbon had quickly learned to ignore his jibes but that didn't necessarily mean that Van Pelt would be able to learn to react in the same way. As a cop she was still very green behind the ears and as a person, Lisbon had immediately had the impression that she was quite the sensitive soul. Eventually, though, she would be fine. It would just take some time for her to develop that thick hide that the rest of them had. In a way, Lisbon was lucky. Her background had made her tenacious and tough; the very worst had already happened to her. Now, she was far more cynical than even she would have liked, but it did help, especially when she considered just how doubtful people were of her and her skills. Her concern for Van Pelt was confirmed when she glanced in her direction and saw the hurt expression on her face. Maybe later she would have a word with her. Despite his achievements in his career, Patrick Jane would never be famed for his tact.
"Where is your God now?" Lisbon murmured and she took a deep breath. Jane stared at her quizzically as he waited for her to extrapolate on the statement. After all, considering her beliefs, they were words that he would never have expected to hear from her mouth, she knew that. In the end, she gave up and filled in the blank spaces for him. "That's the message. Religion couldn't save him, even in a place of worship. Science is perceived to be grounded on solid fact."
"But everything is theoretical until proven otherwise?"
"Yes, but that isn't the killer's point. They want to prove that science is superior to religion, hence the portrayal of the body."
"But Da Vinci was a pious man," Jane added.
"Yes, but he valued reason above his faith," Lisbon corrected him automatically. "That's what makes this ironic. Or, it's just a cover up; trying to frame science when religion is the core issue here."
"And which do you think it is?"
"That is what we need to find out," she answered back firmly.
She began to walk out of the church; she had seen everything she needed to see and they needed to leave so that forensics could do their thing. Lisbon was acutely aware of getting in the way; sometimes she still felt like a fraud whenever she was at a crime scene. That was most likely because of how she had felt every day prior to her family's death, as a psychic. However, before she could leave, she was stopped by Van Pelt who was edging nervously out of Benton's office. She looked remarkably unsure about what she was meant to do, however, that was because she was still trying to find her feet in the job. Less than two weeks since she had started her position, and she had already had to assist in a copycat Red John case and then, the real thing. It was little wonder that her head was still in a spin.
"Lisbon? I need your opinion on something."
Lisbon raised an eyebrow in surprise but nodded anyway. Theoretically, Van Pelt should have headed straight to her boss if she had found something, but instead she had chosen to approach her. Lisbon surmised that that probably had something to do with the fear of wasting Jane's precious time. Though they all worked incredibly hard, her job mostly involved looking at things and giving her opinion on it. Therefore, it was well within her remit to assist Van Pelt on this issue. In all likelihood, had she approached Jane first, he would have merely come straight to her anyway. Remaining mute, Lisbon followed her straight into the office. Clearly, they weren't done at the church yet.
Barring the fact that the chair had been knocked to one side and a pot of stationary had been scattered over the floor, the room had been kept immaculately. Van Pelt immediately led Lisbon to the desk where a pile of accounting papers laid neatly in the middle. Lisbon wandered around the desk, careful not to disturb anything and then started flicking through them while Van Pelt lingered awkwardly to one side. It was clear that the church had major financial issues; there were huge holes all over the place. In some respects, it was understandable. Modern life made people believe church was less of a necessity. Therefore, there was less income into the church. However, even from a brief glance, Lisbon could tell there was money disappearing where it clearly shouldn't have been. Somebody had been fiddling with the books. The question was who? Regardless of whether or not it was their victim, it provided them with a viable motive for his death. Either he was responsible and somebody had taken their petty revenge, or he had discovered who was doing it and they had used murder as a cover-up. It seemed entirely foolish in Lisbon's eyes; theft drew far less attention than murder.
Then, her eyes were drawn to the pale white mug that had been placed to one side of the table. The slogan 'I believe!' was cheerfully displayed on one side, along with the name of the church and a picture of it. It was half filled with black tea, with a splash of milk in it. And, she immediately suspected, a splash of poison of some variety. This was their murder weapon, she was certain of it. Without another word, Lisbon swept out of the room and headed straight towards Patrick Jane. They needed to start interviewing family and friends of the victim. His work colleagues needed questioning too, as she already had a feeling that the killer would be amongst them. The mug needed sending off for fingerprinting and contents examination as soon as possible too. To finalize details in a court case, that kind of evidence was usually far more important than anything that she could ever do.
Jane was on the phone when she approached and he was clearly unhappy. Instinctively, Lisbon knew it was nothing to do with the murder location. Since he had gotten engrossed in examining the dead body itself, he had acclimatized to the place. This call was clearly not good news. Lisbon hung back while he bade the caller farewell and it was only then that she decided to approach him. However, she didn't actually need to hear the words he was preparing to tell her. She could read it in his every expression.
"I'm sorry, Teresa. He passed away an hour ago."
He didn't even need to tell her the name, either. Naturally, she had empathy for the fact a man had passed away, but more selfish reasoning quickly surfaced too. She had so much hope for this lead and yet, Red John had most likely just slipped through their fingers again.