Chapter 7 – Closed Doors
The soft tinkling of a piano was the preferred accompaniment to his reverie; he would drift away transported by the lilting melodies, only to be brought back crashing down to earth by the more discordant sounds of a novice playing; the slightly off key renditions would make him settle back into his pillow with a heavy sigh.
Little things were starting to spark in Jane's memory, which for all their comforting familiarity made him uneasy. Sensory triggers that he couldn't explain would set off a reaction; the scent of the coal tar soap would send a shiver down his spine. A bout of melancholia could be induced by the piped music, in a way that defied all reason.
Jane knew that these and other random recollections were linked with a past that was locked behind an increasingly leaky membrane. The one thing he was absolutely sure of, was that he wanted to be far away from Dr Miller when his memories finally returned. For all his bravado, he recognised Miller had the upper hand and he needed to act quickly.
He quickly penned another letter to the PO Box that his private investigators used in Sacramento. Jane had a longstanding relationship with private investigators, if his 'psychic' skills failed to impress a prospective client, he wasn't averse to backing up his skills with hard information. Some of these marks had serious money to burn and a bit of research paid dividends.
The recent update from the P.I. hadn't exactly overjoyed him. Manny was apparently holed up with a show girl in Reno, and ignoring all calls. A visit from Tiny Knowles would soon remind Manny of his obligations. In the meantime, Jane hatched a cunning plan to escape with the help of young Karl the hacker. It had been all too easy for Karl to hack the security systems and loop the cameras for an hour, allowing Jane an escape route, using a security pass lifted from one of the night staff. Jane had studied the routines for weeks and knew the best way out; at that time of night there was little need for secrecy, he could simply borrow a jacket and walk out of the door.
Any self respecting Carnie knew how to hot wire a car, the older and less sophisticated the model the better. It was just his luck that Nurse Carter had left her house keys in her locker that night, and had turned back when she was half way home. She pulled up in the car park just in time to see Patrick Jane leaving the building, and raised the alarm. Unfit after a period of confinement, he was no match for the younger, fitter attendants, who soon apprehended him.
The news spread round the staff and inmates like wildfire, Sam turned away in frustration on hearing the news. Damn it Patrick why do you have to be so stupid?
In truth Sam couldn't make his mind up, whether he was more annoyed with Jane for trying to escape or for getting caught. There would be repercussions, and Miller had a heart of stone where Jane was concerned.
It was obvious that Carter was in cahoots with Miller, and they were all looking very pleased with themselves. Jane was finally brought through to join the group, with his ankles shackled more for effect than anything. He adopted a swagger that belied his bitter disappointment, grinning at everyone as he walked in, just shrugging as he passed Sam.
Miller called everyone to attention. "I'm sorry to tell you that we're losing one of our patients today, we've gone as far with him as we could." She smiled in Jane's direction, the other patients looked concerned on Jane's behalf, but Miller's revenge was more subtle. She nodded in the direction of the door and two Federal Agents entered and marched up to Karl. "Karl Olson we're arresting you for breaching the terms of your probation. You'll be transferred to the Folsom State Prison with immediate effect."
Karl looked round at Jane in a blind panic. Jane tried to step forward but was restrained by security. "You can't do this, let him go."
Miller enjoyed her sweet revenge. "Patrick when are you going to learn there are consequences? It amused you to have Karl hack the systems, but now Karl will pay the price for your games."
Jane's feeble attempts to defend Karl were disdainfully brushed aside by Miller. "Oh Patrick, you barely know how to turn a computer on, it's patently obvious you had help. Besides we have a witness." Miller's eyes inadvertently flicked over in Max's direction. Max had every reason to keep in Miller's good books, and still harboured a grudge against Jane.
A trip to the State Capitol, where she'd glad-handed the great and good in one of the periodic drives to promote diversity in law enforcement, afforded Lisbon the opportunity to visit one of the better stocked bookstores. Although she remembered all the buzz words from her student days, she was the first to admit that her knowledge of criminal psychology was fairly superficial. They'd call in a specialist profiler when the case justified it, however Lisbon never believed in standing still and her meetings with Miller and Rubin had re-awoken her curiosity. A sly smile crossed her lips, besides she wanted to be on top of her game if she crossed paths with Dr Rubin again. She ran her finger along the shelf, enjoying the luxury of being able to handle the books and flick through them, as opposed to the more sterile process of buying on line.
The first book to catch her eye was Inside the mind of the Serial Killer, Lisbon read the forward sceptically. 'Serial killers are people you know, they may be living next door to you. They're often well educated, polite and cordial in public settings. But deep beneath the polite and innocent looking exterior, lays a deranged sociopath that kills habitually—and without a shred of mercy or remorse.' Lisbon rolled her eyes - well that was hardly rocket science.
Her fingers alighted on The Rise of the Psychopath. According to the cover notes it explored the concept that the ruthless streak that many high flyers exhibited towards obstacles, could be construed as being symptomatic of psychopathic tendencies. Lisbon snorted, she could think of a few people who fitted that bill, some quite close to home. Her eye drifted along the shelves to the letter R where she paused at the snappily titled Walk on the Wild Side by Dr Jack Rubin. The front cover provocatively stated 'Morals are nothing but a civilized society's attempt to tame some beast called man.' Lisbon raised an eyebrow at the chutzpah of the author, and was engrossed reading his biography when a familiar voice piped up behind her.
"A catchy title, but not one of my more serious works. However it paid for my first home, so who am I to grumble?" Dr Rubin took the book off her, and shook his head at the picture of his younger self. "I once read that middle age is like rereading a book you wrote as a callow youth. The first time around you were more rigid and certain in your impressions, in middle age you have the experience to see the subtleties that you missed first time around."
"You talk as if you were ancient." Lisbon scoffed.
"I prefer to think of myself as a fine wine maturing with age, each year adding to the depth of the experience when the cork is finally drawn." Rubin raised an eyebrow suggestively.
Lisbon smiled as she turned her back on him, and put the book back on the shelf. "It's a bit of a coincidence bumping into you here."
"No coincidence at all. I asked your colleague where I could find you and he suggested you might be here. The least you could do to reward me for my perspicacity, is to do me the honour of joining me for lunch or a coffee at least."
"Oh...I don't know, I have to be back in the office." Lisbon bit her bottom lip, weighing up whether she should stay given his connection with the mental facility.
"Come now Agent Lisbon, I'm sure they can manage without you for another hour. Besides there's a new place that I've wanted to try out for ages." His attempts at making puppy dog eyes looked so incongruous that she burst out laughing.
"One hour and I've got to go." She sent Cho a quick text to say she'd be late back.
They stopped outside a somewhat inauspicious looking building. "Ah here it is, the Cafe Nervosa." Lisbon looked confused. "Psychiatrist's joke." He smiled and opened the door for her.
A lively hour turned into an hour and a half as Rubin proved to be surprisingly entertaining company. He started by psychoanalysing the people in the bistro with comic effect. Lisbon couldn't look the poor waitress in the eye after Rubin's take on her. He just raised his eyebrows comically as the poor woman walked away, causing Lisbon to choke on her food.
It was time to turn the tables on him. Despite the potential pitfalls of the subject, Lisbon ventured into dangerous territory. "So, do you really think morals are just society's way of taming the beast, or was that just a headline grabber?"
Rubin leaned forward, looking her straight in the eye. "No I meant every word of it. Fundamentally society and religion are pre-occupied with two things, procreation and death. By elevating procreation to a sacred ritual, it sets mankind above the rest of creation. Throw in the prospect of eternal damnation for sinners at judgement day, and they've got you exactly where they want you to be. A whole mythology evolved around the concept of original sin, and sex is inexorably tinged with guilt, unless it's for the purpose of procreation. It's a denial of the basic human instinct that even the ancient philosophers recognised; Sophocles went so far as to call his libido a frantic and savage master."
This wasn't quite going the way Lisbon anticipated, Rubin was clearly unfazed by the subject. "But these traditions have served us well, why change things?"
"Perhaps in the past, but these days such social mores are largely anachronistic. If we see someone we like, we engage in some social preamble while the savage beast lurks in the wings. We flirt and smile, act coy and artfully manage the situation to the point where we finally overcome our inhibitions and let the beast prevail. It's all a charade, most people know the end game from the first tentative move, but we persist in an elaborate game in the interests of propriety." Rubin's air quotes showed what he thought of propriety.
He leaned back in his seat and quirked his lips. "Take you, I would guess you need 2 or 3 dates to assuage your catholic guilt. There's no logic to it, but it makes you feel more virtuous. The logical course of action is to say to hell with the starter and go straight for the main course."
With that Rubin took a deliberate bite on his sandwich and munched away, never taking his eyes off Lisbon.
Lisbon felt the heat rise in her, she couldn't refute his arguments. "So is this the starter or the main course?"
"It's whatever you want it to be Teresa." Rubin said softly.
Feeling less confident by now, Lisbon lowered her eyes to the table and daintily pecked at her food, feeling every mouthful she took was a metaphor for sex.
"There's no need to feel guilty Teresa, relationships are as much about opening yourself to others as they are about learning about others. You need to learn to be comfortable with your inner self before you can share it with anyone else."
With a twinkle in his eye he picked up the menu. "I guess we're skipping the main course for now, let's see what else I can tempt you with."
The atmosphere at the hospital had changed, with many of the patients blaming Jane for Karl's misfortune. They'd all gone along with his madcap schemes enjoying the ride, without thinking of the consequences. Jane was happy to take refuge in his room just emerging at mealtimes, he was all too aware it was just a matter of time before Miller made her move. After feeling unaccountably drowsy after eating, a suspicion formed in his mind that his meals were being drugged. To prove his theory he deftly switched meals with another inmate at the next sitting, and sure enough within half an hour they were decidedly docile.
Jane confided his suspicions with Sam and started refusing food, relying on snacks that Sam provided and tap water for sustenance. It forced Miller's hand again as her plan relied on lowering his defences. Jane realised the situation wasn't sustainable, but without outside help his options were limited. As a last ditch resort he dashed off a few notes addressed to the PO Box in Sacramento; desperate times justified desperate measures.
On Miller's orders Jane was now confined to his room, it was fairly obvious that someone was helping Jane, so Sam was transferred to another wing for a few days. All Jane's inputs were now controlled, even if he refused food he'd have to drink and the bottled water was laced with barbiturates. Sam was at a loss what to do and called Agent Lisbon for advice, without a pretext to visit Jane there wasn't a lot she could do, but she asked Sam to keep her in the loop.
Having decided on her plan of action, Miller needed to brush up on her skills before tackling Patrick Jane. She wanted to regress Jane back to his past, but hypnotising an unwilling subject was nigh on impossible. To induce a hypnotic state, the subject needs to be in a state where they are highly suggestible for it to succeed. Apart from delving into the hidden recesses of the subject's mind, it's also possible to implant ideas that carry over into the post hypnotic state.
Miller didn't routinely use hypnosis, and had been honing her technique on some of the more susceptible patients. She was relying on the effect of the drugs to lower Jane's resistance, and was relieved when her efforts paid off. After lulling Jane into a false sense of security in his befuddled state, she was finally able to induce him into a trance. Aware that this might take several sessions Miller implanted a trigger mechanism, to allow her to repeat the exercise more easily next time.
For all her flaws Miller was a formidable operator, she regressed Jane back to his childhood to try and delve into his formative years. Exploring the loneliness of a child brought up by a resentful father, who blamed his son for his wife's death, Miller painted a vivid picture, laying the seeds of a secret friend, who Jane could talk to when no one else was around. It was a mischievous friend that would whisper into his ear, encouraging Jane to get into all sorts of scrapes. Miller reasoned that no one should be without a mother at that age, and that his friend John looked after Jane when no one else cared.
Miller's voice was soft and insistent; she kept repeating the message trying to instil the memory in Jane's mind until the seed was firmly planted. Even if she couldn't prove her split personality theory, she had paved the way for a viable alternative.
"You're at the start of a corridor, and behind each door there's a memory of the past. I want you to slowly walk along the corridor and we'll open up the doors as we go." Miller took up her narrative by opening the first door. She started by painting a favourable picture of life at the carnival, concentrating on the more enjoyable aspects such as the rides, the animals and performers. She made a point of introducing a sweet young girl with pigtails, who watched him from a distance.
Jane frowned, the face was familiar but he couldn't remember her name.
They moved along to the next door. Jane was a teenager now with his own act, but his father was still pulling the strings. Alex had a short fuse and was loose with his fists after a few drinks, but was careful not to leave any marks, knowing Jane's face was their meal ticket. No one was going to buy a fantasy from a beat up kid. From reading the case notes, Miller knew that child protection services had been called in on more than one occasion, but Jane had refused to speak against his father.
"Everyone needs a friend sometime, someone who looks after you, who knows you better than anyone else." She let that idea hang in the air for a while, before slowly leading him along. Miller pointed out the girl, who would sneak in to watch his act, she was real pretty now, with dark blond hair, smarter than the others, and her family had money. Miller elicited an admission from Jane that he had a girlfriend, but it was a secret, no-one knew, but he couldn't remember her name.
They advanced to the next door. He'd left the carnival and times were hard, but he wasn't alone. Someone was standing barefoot in their cramped kitchen, laughing playfully as she threw something at him. Jane started to tense up, refusing to acknowledge the scenario, although it was undeniably the girl from the carnival again.
Behind the next door things were looking up again, money was pouring in, and he could indulge in flashy suits and fancy cars. There was laughter in the background, a child's. Miller described the woman and child perfectly based on photographs that she'd seen, and painted a comfortable scene of domesticity. Jane's hands were flexing furiously, as he tried to resist the memories, but he was only delaying the inevitable.
"You can't ignore it Patrick, remember, you must remember..." There was a slight edge to Miller's voice now as she pushed harder.
Jane shook his head violently "No, No!"
"You know who it is Patrick, surely you must remember your own wife and daughter.." Miller jumped back in surprise, as he leapt up and started to get agitated, banging on the locked door.
"Just stop it! I've had enough, leave me alone!" He turned on Miller, his eyes darkened ominously.
Miller swallowed hard at the sudden change of mood, realising that the situation could easily escalate out of control, the need for secrecy had compromised her safety. Without further delay, she released him from his trance. She'd implanted the means to facilitate the next session, and she'd take precautions before they opened the final door.
Left to his own devices, Jane's memories started flooding back in. Until now there'd been an emotional disconnect between what he'd been told and reality, it had just been an abstract notion having a family, nothing to do with him. The bonds of flesh and blood were slowly being re-forged, but each new memory was laced with poison, and short lived. The magnitude of his loss started to hit home, and he was tossed up by a tsunami of grief onto the desolate shores of despondency.
Although Lisbon was aware her involvement with Rubin could pose a potential conflict of interest, she was intoxicated by his charisma, and the frisson of excitement at the hint of something slightly licentious. She began to question why her earlier relationships had all foundered, on paper they'd ticked all the right boxes, but she realised that she wasn't satisfied with the ordinary.
Her resolve had soon wilted, who was counting anyhow?
The team noticed the change in her, Rigsby commented on the Lisbon got laid bounce in her step and speculated who the lucky guy was, before being firmly put in his place by Van Pelt, who told him it was none of his business.
Even Minelli noticed that she was starting later and leaving earlier, although she still put in more hours than most. With a fatherly concern, he noted that she looked tired at times and wondered if she was sickening for something.
Although he'd covered for her a few times, Bosco could sense the change in her. It aroused a primordial resentment in him that manifested in a more abrasive manner toward her, matters finally came to a head when Lisbon failed to suppress a yawn in a briefing in the bullpen.
"Tired again, maybe you should try sleeping at night?" Bosco snarked.
Van Pelt flared up at him."I hardly think that's an appropriate thing to say in the workplace."
Bosco looked her up and down like some ingénue."Get over yourself. That's what they're all thinking." He jerked his head in Cho and Rigsby's direction.
Cho and Rigsby shuffled uncomfortably at being called out on their thoughts, the Boss had a right to a private life after all.
Lisbon stalked into her office with Bosco not far behind. He pulled the door behind him and closed the blinds; someone had to tell Lisbon how it looked. They'd all noticed tell tale marks, it didn't matter that it was none of their business, people talk, and reputations soon get tarnished.
Moreover Bosco had seen Lisbon out and about with Rubin, in his mind he wasn't snooping, just keeping a friendly eye out for her. With Patrick Jane out of the picture for now, Bosco transferred his dislike from Jane to Rubin, one smart Alec for another.
"Teresa, as a friend I'm telling you that you need to sort your act out. Do you want to put all your hard work at risk for some passing infatuation? No doubt he'll be shown the door before long." Although his motivation may not have been entirely innocent, Bosco didn't want Lisbon doing something she would regret later.
Lisbon flared up. "That's good coming from you Sam. For years you followed me round like a horny teenager. Do you honestly think I didn't hear the rumours about how I'd gotten on? Did you worry about my reputation then? Why do you think I left SFPD in the first place? I never got credit for anything I did because people thought I was your pet."
Bosco flushed. "Nothing happened."
"No because I moved away. Look at yourself Sam before you start throwing stones." She bit her bottom lip until it turned white, as she gathered her thoughts together. "If I have let my professional standards drop slightly, after years of being the first in and last to leave, I would have hoped that my colleagues would have cut me some slack. I'm not Robocop, I have feelings just like everyone else.
"I've always made a point of not letting my private and professional life overlap until now. Here I am in my thirties with nothing material to show for it all, still living in a rented condo and no personal life to speak of, because I have to work just a little bit harder to prove myself. There's no one cooking me meals and doing my laundry Sam - so if for once in my life I let my hair down, who are you to judge me?"
Bosco stuffed his hands in his pocket, accepting the injustice of it, but the fact remained that people were talking and it was his responsibility to tell her how it was.
Miller turned warily at the sound of footsteps approaching her in the dark car park, it was with a sense of relief that she saw Luis standing there. "What are you doing lurking round here? You know you're not supposed to be here."
"Heard that someone was planning to sell me down the river to save their own skin." Luis stepped menacingly towards her.
"Nonsense. Who told you that?" Miller suddenly felt very vulnerable in the deserted car park.
"A little bird sent me a letter." He jabbed his finger at her as he spoke. "I'm telling you, we're in this together. If I go down I'm taking you with me." The intimidating characteristics that Miller had happily exploited when it suited her, were now being directed against her.
"Someone's playing you. For heaven's sake haven't you got the common sense to see that?" Miller snapped impatiently.
Luis didn't like being told what to do by women at the best of times, and only put up with Miller under sufferance, but no one was going to talk down to him like that. He pushed her against the car with more force than was strictly necessary. "I'm just telling you Doc. I'm not taking heat for no bitch."
The sound of footsteps on the gravel alerted Luis of the impending arrival of the security guards, who'd seen events unfold on camera. Luis made a swift exit, leaving Miller to compose herself. There was only one person she could think of who would benefit from this. She shuddered at the prospect of another encounter with Luis, she would be glad when this was all over.