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Ch 8


"So none of the neighbours recognised him?"

They were all assembled in a corner of the bullpen. Lisbon, Cho and Van Pelt seated a communal table, Rigsby was leaning against a nearby desk, and Hightower addressing the group. Jane was hovering nonchalantly near the large window, teacup in hand. Not seeming to be paying a great deal of attention, though the team knew better than to underestimate his methods.

Rigsby answered "Actually, while no one recognised him from the camera footage, a Shelly Grant, just downstairs from you boss, remembers passing a guy in the stairwell yesterday about that time. Said he was hot. We brought her in to do a sketch, but I don't know how helpful she'll be. Pretty vague on age and background. Not the brightest match in the box, if you ask me."

"Bulb" Cho corrected. They all stared at him. "Bulb in the box" He added, by way of explanation.

Rigsby scowled and countered "I'm sure it's match."

"I always thought it was crayon actually" Grace mused.

Lisbon pointedly cleared her throat.

Rigsby, sheepishly continued. "Whatever. Anyway, that's all we got. But it's gotta be our guy right?"

"Well if it is, then 'hot guy' really narrows it down."Hightower summarised. "Let's wait and see how that sketch goes. Meanwhile, how did he get in? He would have needed a key to the front door, or to be buzzed in. Jane and I talked to the real estate, but they don't keep spare keys." She looked expectantly and Cho and Rigsby.

"No one recalled letting in a visitor at that time. Two residents said they have spare keys with friends, we're still chasing up those leads now." Cho answered.

"Maybe he picked the locks?" Grace suggested. The group collectively shifted their gaze to Jane. He grinned momentarily at this recognition of expertise.

"Hmm, takes time to pick a lock. Even if you're pretty good at it, a couple minutes at least. And there were two doors, the main entrance and Lisbon's. It'd be tight."

"But possible" Hightower clarified. Jane made a noncommittal humming sound."Possible. But we're missing something rather obvious here." He looked at Lisbon, "Where do you keep your spare key?"

Lisbon sighed and replied "Top left drawer of my desk." The implication left a bad taste in her mouth. One glance around the group and it was clear the feeling was mutual.

"It's not that hard to sneak into your office. I do it all the time" Jane added, despite the fact no one wanted to hear it. Lisbon felt like throwing something at him. She restrained herself.

"Well, that's great then, we can check the security cameras here. See who's been in and out of Lisbon's office." Grace said enthusiastically. Hightower was already nodding. "Cho?"

The agent in question stood. "On it, boss." He strode out of the room, headed for the security offices on the lower floor.

Hightower turned back to Grace. "How'd you go with our supplies?"

"Got everything, ma'am."

"Excellent, then you and Rigsby go and set up the rooms. Be discreet."

They nodded and left. Only Lisbon, Jane and Hightower remained. "Alright, it's nearly two o'clock. That gives you enough time to review some of the footage Cho brings back, and then we'll need to get you all across town. Remember, you're officially working a new angle on the Marr case, which requires a sensitive undercover operation. That's all anyone needs to know. The gossip vine is way too active around here as it is. I'll be in my office if you need me." With that the director left. It wouldn't do for her to appear so actively involved in a case.

Jane finally stepped away from the window and sat across from Lisbon. He wanted to ask how she was doing. No, he wanted to put her in his car and keep on driving. Instead, he sat quietly.

She was fidgeting with a pen under the table. She'd been doing it the whole time. He extended his hand palm up on the table between them, and waited.

She ignored him at first, carefully looking everywhere but in his direction. After nearly a minute though, she wordlessly handed the pen over. He caught her hand in his and held it.

Her pulse felt steady, but there was a trace of tension in her arm. Classic Lisbon tension, wired for the defensive. She finally raised her eyes to meet his.

"You've called your brothers?" He knew she had, but asked anyway.

She relaxed minutely; it wasn't the question she had been expecting. "Dean's in France this month, for work. I spoke to James this morning. I didn't tell him anything though." She looked down at the table.

"You're worried about him."

"He lives in Chicago. I just... he has a little boy..." She almost controlled the crack in her voice.

"What if Red John goes after them." Jane voiced for her solemnly. Lisbon nodded, not trusting her voice this time. He took care not to hesitate, to keep his words light, reassuring. "Well it's unlikely, because it would be counterproductive to his goal. But you have friends in law enforcement in Chicago. Someone you can trust?"

Another nod. "Call someone. Call in one of those favours you people always seem to have at your disposable. No need to give details, I'm sure you can come up with some reason for a little friendly surveillance."

"Yeah, I'll do that." She could definitely do that.

"What about Tommy?"

She closed her eyes. What about Tommy? "I haven't seen him in four or five years. I don't even have a phone number. He moves around a lot."

"Then we'll track him down. We are detectives, remember?" He flashed one of his dazzling grins at her, and received a slight quirking of her lips and a derisive "well some of us are" in response.

"Good. Now, tea? This is no time for that dreadful stuff you drink." He started to get up, but was interrupted by her next words.

"What did you mean by 'counterproductive'?" She asked curiously.

"Well he's targeting you, Lisbon."

"We assume, but he didn't say that. The note just said seven days. And some drivel about wings and fire. We don't know what that means yet."

"Well I don't think it means anything good." His voice took on a mocking tone, almost sarcastic. She didn't take the bait.

"We don't know what that poem means, do we?" She was staring at him intensely now.

He met her gaze smoothly. He could keep up the charade. He had no doubt that he could continue lying. But was there any point to keeping his knowledge of the Blake poem to himself anymore. He'd only done it in the first place to keep an aspect of the investigation private, to keep one crucial piece of the Red John puzzle to himself. And while part of that motivation was due to his egotistical desire to carry out his own vengeance, the other part of it was to prevent this exact situation occurring. To prevent Red John from discovering that he had anything more to lose. And that train has already left the station.

So he stared back at Lisbon, until the silence had gone on too long. Until it was clear to Lisbon that her implication was correct. That Jane knew exactly what the poem meant, and had known for... God knows how long.

The silence was interrupted by Cho, who had returned with the office security tapes. Jane waited for the accusation. Waited for Lisbon to demand an explanation from him. To inform Cho that he had been withholding pertinent information.

She simply turned her attention to the stack of discs Cho had put on the table and said "Let's get started."