Strokes Of Red

by Mizar31

While spending a free weekend out of town, Lisbon is attacked in her motel room. She survives almost unscathed, but the sign on the wall says that a well known man paid her his visit. How far will she go to protect her best friend, Patrick Jane?

8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Hit and run

It was so "late" in the early morning, that the hands of the clock on the wall seemed to stand still, or even move backwards. They all had returned to the CBI, and sat together in the big bureau, trying to cope with the shock and the grief of the loss of their two comrades. Senior Agent Price was almost completely down, he had had the difficult task to explain the deaths of his team members to their families and friends; he had been on the phone almost constantly since they arrived here. Agent Hollyman, his only remaining team member, helped Lisbon and her team to check upon the first photos and samples of fingerprints and hairs, that the forensics unit had found in the house. Most of them were of Agent Mallory of course, some of Agent Ramirez. Rigsby had found out that Ramirez had been called at this cell phone from the land line number of Agent Mallory – and therefore he had been at her house. They could not say what the caller told Ramirez, but the storyline fitted the pathologist´s first report. Agent Mallory was killed first, about the quarter of an hour before Agent Ramirez. He must have been hurrying to her place, maybe she called him in her fear, or they called, or something – and stepped directly in their trap.

There were no fingerprints and no sign of the murder weapon anywhere, but it must have been a razor blade or a scalpel; a very sharp edged object. That would of course fit the Red John theory, but Lisbon knew better. She always tried to keep his name off all conversations, but now and then someone talked about RJ nevertheless, and whenever they did, Teresa knew instinctively that her team members were only waiting for some time alone to get the promised explanation.

But there was no time, not in these dark hours. Everyone wanted to work as fast and accurate as possible, to clear the murders; so that the families could have their beloved ones back for grief and funeral. So the Sunday morning began with exhausting work, even though two spare Agents from Agent Donnalys weekend-shift-team joined them.

»Teresa.« Jane caught up with her while she was coming back from the Ladies room. Right now that sickness was annoying; she hated it not to be perfectly well. »Wait. We´ve worked through all the evidence now, would you please take a rest for a while? Please.«

She looked back at him and explained: »Not right now, I am feeling better... we´re awaiting the results of the ten fingerprints that we could not definitely verify in the next hour. We already know that Agent Mallory had a house keeper and that her sister had been on a visit a few days ago – so maybe the fingerprints belong to them. We need to call the house keeper in to take her fingerprints to compare them; and the local police of the hometown of Mallory´s sister shall take the samples of her and send it…«

Jane smiled: »I know, Teresa, I know, but… you must take care – not only for yourself, but also for someone else now. Don´t forget that.« He pointed to the others with a move of his head. »The kids are all grown up, they know what to do. Do me the favor, only fifteen minutes. I´ll make you some tea.«

»Another Jane special mix?« she asked, smiling. »Ok, I´ll take a short break, for goodness sake, but that´s it then, Patrick, you don´t have to worry about me.«

»I´ll always take care for you two.« he answered, and smiled.

For a second Lisbon had the impression that he already knew everything, but he gave her no chance to prove it, but shoved her in her own bureau, pointed to the couch and was out of the door to make his special tea.

When he returned to the bureau, he found her fast asleep, coiled up in one edge of the couch. With a gentle move he put his suit jacket on her body and left the tea behind, ere he went out again and closed the door from the outside.

»That´s good.« Cho said, when Jane returned in the big bureau. »Let her sleep for a while. She´s also been through a lot.«

»Yes, she has.« Jane answered. »And maybe more than we know.«

Unfortunately, Lisbon had not a long time to rest, because only fifteen minutes later the Hispanic house keeper of Mallory was in the CBI. The older woman had a very loud voice and although Agent Hollyman and Agent Price took charge of her, the quietness was gone. Of course the woman let them take her fingerprints and unfortunately they matched six of the ten unidentified fingerprints; the other four were from Mallory´s sister. So there still was no evidence to use, it was a perfect professional job again. After that bad news Lisbon, Rigsby, Cho, Van Pelt and Agent Hollyman decided to go back to the crime scene to interview the neighborhood, if maybe one of them had seen a strange car or heard anything; but as almost expected, no one of them could remember a visitor or anything else, that was unusual – but this was not a thing to wonder about. None of the people ever thought or dreamed of that anything like that could happen in their quiet neighborhood; so they simply did not cast a closer look at the surroundings. They all were shocked and felt sorry but could not really help; on the contrary, they started to feel annoyed because of the many questionings and the mass of reporters that were outside and tried to get an interview. Without any results they came back to the CBI, exhausted, and found the building almost full of people, although it was still Sunday close to noon.

:-:

The death strike to all hopes came with the midday news, with the best TV-time around the middle of the day. There were breaking news telling the public that Red John had reappeared; and that a special report about that serial killer would be in the afternoon show of Caren Cross. They all knew the Talk show-master Caren Cross, she used to be a real pain in the neck a lot of times before, and now she was the one who was up to "reveal that Red John is still alive and out there".

It couldn´t be worse, and although Teresa and Patrick had been working hard to prove that this was a fake Red John attack, even the other CBI Agents began to speculate now about the possibility that RJ was still alive. There was doubt in their faces, and whenever they cast a look on Jane it was obvious that they were not sure what to think now.

»If we try to beg Cross not to send her show, it will be a even bigger fault.« Cho said, in the middle of the discussion.

Jane was his opinion: »I think so too… she would turn that against us, tell her viewers that we tried to interfere the freedom of the media or something. We´ll have to look at the show and see.« Even he, who most times was very certain in everything he did, had doubts now. The public knew, exactly that happened, what they all feared, and the chit-chat and the rumor were there – they could not stop it. It may become an avalanche.

:-:

It was an avalanche. Everyone in the CBI seemed to watch the show where some "want-to-be-experts" tried to prove and explain that Red John was alive and now out for big revenge. Everyone was sure that he only killed the CBI Agents to show the police that he could come on anyone he liked, and that he was still a great danger. Even the pathologist who worked on the examination of the two Agents seemed to be affected by that show and tried to find existing parallels to the Red John murders, he ordered the reports of the old Red John cases to compare it with the results of those two victims, therefore he needed much longer for his final report than he usually would have. It would be a lot of work to look through the results without seeing too much of the subjective input of Red John theories.

Agent Van Pelt sighed deeply, when she had received the call: »It´s been the pathologist. He´s ready with his examination now. I´ll go and get them from the coroner´s office. I´ll be back in half an hour, if I walk I can take the side streets. I´ll be faster.«

Fortunately the Sacramento coroner´s office was not far away from the CBI Headquarter, Van Pelt could be there by foot within ten or at least fifteen minutes. Although the reason for the walk was not a likeable one; it would be a relief for her to get out of the Headquarter for a while.

Price proposed: »Maybe we can get through this until tomorrow, so that we can give our reports to Wainwright and Bertram, and that the bodies of our poor friends can be taken home. We do not need to keep them in the police-morgue. They… should be with their…«

Grace understood: »I´ll hurry.« She went out of the building and crossed the street, slightly wondering that the sun had already disappeared behind the horizon. It was still dusk, good light, but the day had passed so fast that it was unbelievable.

»That's one of them.« the man on the bench said to his comrade. »The red haired Agent from Lisbon´s team. Boss said; kill everyone we see now. He´s annoyed.«

The other one turned round and looked at the target person through a sniper´s rifle telescope. »Yes, seems so. The boss was right; they will all cuddle up in the CBI Headquarter after this attack. Let´s go, get her, while we have her still in sight.« He took out a cell-phone and called someone with the push on only one button: »Mister D, it is Butcher speaking. We´ll get that Agent Van Pelt within the next minutes.«

»Ok, good. I expect your recall after the job is done. Then you´ll get you money.« with those few words the conversation was ended and the man left the bench.

They both were so calm and relaxed that nobody around recognized what they were up to. The men never ran, they only walked, followed the steps of Agent Van Pelt with medium speed, only from time to time they approached her a little bit more; only a tiny bit, so that they would be able to end the pursuit whenever needed; and disappear unseen and unnoticed. They were good in their job; they had to be, because at this time of the day there were still lots of people on the street. If they were really good they would need only one second, each one of them only one move. One man would be passing by her right side, the other one left. The man at her left side would aim with his knife for the place between her fifth and sixth rib, a stab slightly upwards, a turn, and back out; the other one on her right side prepared to hit her in the small triangle between neck, shoulder blade and collarbone; the main shoulder artery. She´d have no chance. The first possibility was to attack her in a crowd of people, maybe while crossing a street at green light, strike, and then vanish into the mass of people while she died there – or else, to hit her when they were alone on a corner, where they could push her into a small, dark side street. She´ll bleed out ere the paramedics would be there.

The men were prepared for both situations and to their pleasure situation number two seemed to be coming soon. The red haired Agent left the main street to go to the Coroners building of Sacramento, where they had the pathology and the morgue; and not so many people followed her down that street. Now they approached faster, tried to catch her at the next corner. And now they were almost running at her.

Grace Van Pelt was not unaware. She had a strange feeling from the moment on when she left the main street. Only for her own safety she loosened the fixing strap that hold the gun in the holster, so that she could pull it out a lot faster, and she also took her small pepper spray can out of the belt pocket in her hand. There were steps behind her and she turned round exactly that moment, when the two men had their long knives out and were ready to stab. They were surprised, really surprised, and that was a big deal for professionals like them. The first blow, that usually was deadly, went into "cold air" they only cut slits into her suit jacket. In the next moment one of them had his eyes full of pepper spray; but he was trained enough not to scream – that would have drawn attention on the little scene and his partner still had the chance to kill that CBI-beast.

Van Pelt blocked the next attempt to stab her with her arm, and she felt her bones hurt because of the mighty blow, second to that she was not fast enough in retreat so the blade cut through the garment on her arm and the knifes tip slightly scratched her skin. That was not very bad, and it did not hurt much, but the man with the pepper spray in his eyes still had enough strength and vision left to kick her hard at the shinbone, what made her instable in standing – this was useful for his comrade, he rose the knife again… this assault needed much more time than they wanted to! It should have been over since a lot of time, they must end it now or they might be discovered.

The knife was aimed on her throat now, the carotid artery, also a good place…

That second a golden-brown car changed direction with screeching tires, jumped over the edge of the sidewalk with a hard bump, and steered directly on the three of them. The man with the knife was hit in the back with full speed; his body was thrown forwards and collided with Van Pelt, and his other comrade. The CBI Agent was completely shielded from the snout of the car by of the body of the villain, but the force of the hit threw her down nevertheless, her head was swaying and the sight was blacked out on seventy percent of her view by something that was close by and very heavy. She was almost completely buried under the body of the knife-man who did not move anymore, and could only see with half an eye what happened next. A man left the car. He wore common black shoes and jeans; and went to the deeply astonished other man, who still had the pepper spray in his eyes. This villain tried to get himself up from the floor, but did not come far. The strange driver crouched down next to him and asked him something at very low voice; and what he asked, seemed to be really serious; because the other man was white in the face and completely in shock. He nodded once, nodded a second time, but then shook his head and whispered with panicked and stuttering voice: »No, no, never.«

That seemed to be all that the strange car-driver wanted to know. With a merciless move he took hold of the head of his opponent and cracked his neck. The victim went down straight forward, without any resistance. He was dead, that was sure.

»Hey, stop!« Grace cried out and reached out for her gun, but her arm was jammed between the street floor and the man that was still on top of her. With all her strength she was able to get her gun out, but the target was gone, without haste, as it seemed, without any fear that she might try to shoot to hold him back.

The car´s engine roared and then it went off backwards, she tried to get out under the weight of the man that was lying on her, to see the license plate, but there was no chance, the car was gone as fast as it approached. It must have all been over in a few seconds, surely not half a minute. And that second a woman at the sidewalk was screaming, of course the accident had not been unnoticed.

Grace still wanted to get rid of the man, at the same time she tried to find out if he was still alive – but he was almost dead, unable to move, and his back was most likely broken. She hardly noticed that her own left arm also seemed to be broken, but not by the hit from the car, this had happened earlier, when she had blocked the oncoming knife. Whoever had been the driver of that car, he surely had not tried to kill or hurt her; his target was the man with the knife in his hand, and maybe; most likely; this strange car accident saved her live. From the far she could hear the sirens of the police and paramedics, but there was a similar noise much nearer; it was the phone of the man who´s neck had been broken. She longed for the pocket in which the cellular was ringing, and looked at the screen for a second. There was a big "D", not a full name and no picture, but still…

She answered the call, and before she could say any word, she was yelled at: »Why do you need so long, you fools?« the voice of a man screamed. »You want pay, do good work! This is crap! Understood? I´ve also got pleasures to fulfill.« Deep inside she had the impression that she had heard this voice before. The man disconnected the line.

Van Pelt put the stranger´s cell phone into her own pocket ere the police arrived, and then a whole bunch of spectators, and lights, and paramedics…

:-:

»How long do you need to understand that we won´t leave! We stay here until we can talk to our friend.« Jane was still discussing with the head night-shift-nurse of their floor. It was about half past eleven in the night. Cho was watching Patrick, who proved once more what a pain in the neck he could be if someone crossed his mind.

Rigsby and Lisbon also were there, on the uncomfortable seats in the visitor´s lounge; but they were in some kind of dozing state at the moment. Rigsby had tried to arrange his body on three of the plastic-and-aluminum chairs; Lisbon had only two and leant a little bit on the inner window-sill for support. Cho had also organized three of the chairs for him, but his back hurt so much when he lay down that he had chosen to stay awake. Jane was putting up a real good performance. Since nine in the evening he was constantly debating with the stern, old nurse, Mrs Cleaver. Once she had called a night-shift-doctor for assistance, but the matter that Patrick discussed did not interest the M.D., so the head nurse had the problem back, and Jane did not keep his mouth shut.

The old nurse growled, once again: »Mr. Jane, how often do I have to tell you that visitors are not allowed in the hospital after closing hours. And the end of the official visiting hours was at eight thirty. The surgeon admitted you an hour longer because your friend was still in treatment, but now you extended that beyond every border. If it was not for the noise level, I would call for assistance to remove you. I have enough! Leave now! She´s in good hands, you can go and return tomorrow. I promise you, I call the police!«

»We are the police!« Jane insisted. Then he changed his tone again: »Mrs. Cleaver, it can´t be so difficult to organize at least one spare bed or a paramedic´s stretcher, or maybe a single mattress. It would be enough to get an examination bed from the ambulance offices downstairs. You could put it back ere they need it. Don´t you have a storage room for spare beds?« He was at least as outworn as the nurse, but had no intention to give in. »Can´t you see that we all are deeply worried about the fate of our friend? We could as well be patients for shock and insomnia treatment, as visitors. We can´t get any rest on these designer chairs, and lying on the floor seems to be a very bad choice. We would do, of course, but would you please give us at least one bed for Miss Lisbon? She must rest, and it is not good for her to crouch on these terrible designer chairs because…« he started to whisper, and Cho did not hear the words, but they must have had some impact.

The nurse finally gave in: »Ok, Mr. Jane, but for goodness sake be quiet.« She took a pen and sat down next to her computer and turned off the screen saver. After a minute of clicking and looking she called someone from the night shift of the maintenance. »I can give you one examination bed.« she said. »But I need it back at half past seven in the morning, when the day shift arrives. The house keeper will bring it upstairs.«

»Thank you.« Patrick replied.

When the bed arrived, brought by a tired house keeper, the nurse quickly covered it with a fresh sheet, and took a spare cushion out of a wardrobe that was on the corridor and put four spare blankets next to it. »For you and your colleagues.« she said.

»Thanks a lot.« Jane said again and pushed the bed into the visitor´s room. Cho held the door open for him and took the three spare blankets aside.

»Lisbon?« Patrick called the woman. »I got a bed for you. You can´t find good rest on those chairs. Hop on it and good night.«

Teresa murmured: »Oh thank you… but only one. And you? And Cho? And Rigsby?«

»I´ll be ok.« Cho said. »The nurse gave us spare blankets; I can lay down on the floor – that's better for my back; I feel that I need some harder underground at the moment.«

Rigsby also answered: »I found a position on those chairs that is ok in a way. Thanks for the blanket, Jane.« He stretched. »How long can it be until she wakes up from the anesthetic? How late is it, by the way?«

Lisbon looked at her watch and protested: »Almost midnight. Jane… You fought until now for this bed, so use it. I´m fine here.«

Jane answered, stern and with an unmistakable look: »You need a good rest. If you don´t take the bed, I´ll give it back.«

»The nurse will kill you, if you try.« Cho joked. »First yes, then no…« He folded one of the blankets on the floor and sat down there, after he stretched his limbs. »Those chairs really make one sick.« he murmured. »Maybe that´s on purpose, so that they get more patients… I don´t understand how you could ever find a good lying position on them, Rigs.«

Grumbling, but nevertheless thankful Teresa changed her place and took the bed, Jane somehow tried to arrange him with the seat next to the window-sill.

Finally the night-shift nurse, who had been watching the scene, seemed to have found her good heart, and the house keeper returned not long later with three more, but this time small foldable spare beds. They were old and the springs squeaked, but the nurse arranged those beds with cushions and sheets too, and pushed them into the visitors lounge.

The sleep was like an immediate and deep blackout; for all of them. It was as if the self protection of the body shut them down completely. There were no bad dreams or visions and their rest must have been so deep that they noticed nothing any more.

:-:

It was Rigsby who was up first in the morning – it was bright sunshine in the visitors lounge; the window seemed to look eastwards. It was already half past eight in the morning; the night-shift-nurse had let them sleep although she had said that she would need the beds back. Wayne yawned and sat up to take a look around. His colleagues were still asleep, all except one. Van Pelt was also with them in the visitor´s room; she sat on a chair next to the door, silent but awake, with her left arm put in plaster. When she noticed Wayne´s moving, she looked at him and smiled weakly.

»You are all here.« she whispered. »You never left, since the evening?«

He shook his head and said: »How could we, Grace? You are our friend and if you need us, we´re right there. We won´t go away.«

Van Pelt sighed, decided to concentrate on the facts and asked: »The men that were on the street with me, they are both dead, right?«

»Yes, they are.« Rigsby answered. »But we do not know who they were. They had no Id and no phone with them, the only things were three different kinds of deadly weapons. Price tried to run them in the files, but he apparently has no match yet.«

»He would have called us.« Lisbon said, she also was awake now.

Grace said low at voice: »Sorry, boss, I never meant to wake you up.«

»Oh, it´s ok. It´s already late… and…« she cleared her throat. »I think we have enough to do.« She also sat up and put her feet on the floor. »How are you, Grace?«

»I am fine, the ulna of my left arm is broken and they had to stitch up a part of the cut, and there is a big bruise on my shinbone too. But I´ll survive.« she smiled. »I am all right. But… the things that happened keep me thinking since hours. For goodness sake I had the anesthetic during almost the whole night. But now…«

Cho said: »Tell us. We know nothing, except of some talk of witnesses. They said it was hit and run by a car, you and two other men were hit, while you were trying to cross the street, and that the driver left without looking back. The men died, one because of a broken neck but with a strange face irritation, the other one had severe inner bleedings. «

»Oh, I know that.« suddenly her voice and look went stern. »The men attacked me. They tried to stab me. I got one half-down with pepper spray, the other one still went on and broke my arm. The car driver kind of saved my life, I think. No, I am sure that he saved my life. He knocked the first one of them down with the car and then he got out and broke the neck of the other one, after he had asked him something. I could not stop him, sorry, boss… but I got the phone from one of them. A man named "D" called them… The phone must be with my garment, the policemen must have thought it was mine.«

The four others listened to her with increasing anxiety.

Then Rigsby said, with unusual hard words: »Boss, Jane, and maybe Cho… I know that there is much more behind this all. Would you please talk to us now?

An awkward silence followed. No one knew, how to start.

Jane spoke at first: »Yes. You are right. I think it is time for a talk.« Looking into Cho´s and Lisbon´s faces, it was clear that they knew what he meant, but Van Pelt and Rigsby were confused. Within a moment both of them got an even more uncomfortable feeling.

Grace asked: »Am I right, when I assume, that this won´t be a nice talk?«

»You are right.« Kimball confirmed.

Lisbon cast a long look at Jane, but he replied it with no signal or motion. So she decided: »Then I will start, because I was the first one.«

Cho wrinkled his brow: »The first? Earlier than me, you mean?«

»Yes.« she confirmed, and cleared her throat again. »When we had our free weekend… the weekend on which we found the man in the tree, I had a nightly visitor; maybe more than one; until now I do not know for sure. I was paralyzed with an electric stunning device, maybe also drugs. When I woke up…« she carried on with her story and the longer the others listened, the more they were surprised that she could cover up this so long. »Jane was not content with my decision from the beginning on.« she ended.

Grace asked: »Boss, that must be… awful. I can´t… imagine how you must feel.«

Jane explained: »She decided to tell no one, because she thought that it was Red John´s doing. If anyone is to blame, then I am. She wanted to protect me – if anyone got the impression, that he is still alive, they would know that I lied to the jury. But this is in vain now, now that the public chit-chats about it.«

Cho asked: »You lied to the jury? What does that mean?«

»Red John is not dead. He is alive, and out there. But he did not do this. He did not attack Lisbon, he did not break into Cho´s house; he did not kill Mallory and Ramirez, and for certain he did not try to stab you on open street, Grace.«

Rigsby was totally confused: »Not Red John? But… all the policemen said that it must be him, there was his sign on the wall! Everywhere! And what about that Cross interview in TV? All the experts… but you shot him, did you? Jane, are you serious?«

Now Cho started his story: »Let me explain, maybe it will be a little clearer then. I also was not sure that Red John visited my house.«

Van Pelt was surprised: »You too?«

»Yes. A few days ago. The night from Wednesday to Thursday, to be precise. We were at the CBI, working on our case; Summer was luckily not at my place. When we came home on Thursday morning we found the bed stained with blood and the face on the wall. We informed Jane and Lisbon. It was my choice not to bother the whole team. I also was the opinion that it would be better, if as less as possible people knew. But I did not know that our boss was also attacked, and that I was the second one. I thought that it maybe was some street gang´s doing; so Summer and I tried to talk with our contacts in the scene. But there was not enough time until now. You got to find your trusties, and that needs more time.« He sighed. »But if I was the second in a line… it is clear that we are the main target.«

That moment Rigsby cried out: »You could have warned us!« he jumped to his feet. »I thought we are friends. We should have known. How many times have we proved that we hold together? We could have be prepared! Grace!« he turned to the youngest team member. »What do you say? You also did not know. And now they also turned on you? What if that car driver would not have been there? You could be dead, or severely hurt.«

Van Pelt cleared her throat: »Wayne, I understand you. Of course I think that it could have helped maybe, if we knew that the team is under attack. But we don´t know who did this, and when or where they´ll strike again. If we had known it from the beginning… maybe nothing would have changed, but… ehm…« she hesitated. »I mean, maybe it would have been even worse. No one can say that now, but what could we do? Guard ourselves Twenty-four-Seven? That would drive us mad.«

Rigsby was still not calm: »We could have left town for a while!«

»But they found Teresa in her weekend refuge, where she was never before.« Jane remembered him. »I am sure they know perfectly well where we are and where we go. The most important fact is, that it was not Red John. They use him for some purpose.«

Lisbon explained: »Over the last free days, when I had finally time to think about it all – of course affected by the attack on Cho – I had some ideas about another theory.« She hesitated for a moment. In fact she was reciting the words that she´d spoken with Red John. Then she chose to do it: »They maybe use RJ because everyone knows that this serial killer is dead – shot, to be precise, by Jane. What if, whoever is behind this wants that the investigation against Jane is reopened? They want to make clear that he lied before court. That he shot a man who was innocent in everything that Jane accused him. Timothy Carter was not a nice man, but he was not Red John. Jane´s sentence would prove wrong; it would be clear that he committed perjury, and so he is back in jail.«

Cho shook his head: »Why should anyone put on such a game to get you, Jane?«

»I think it is Levine.« Teresa now said. »He somehow ordered the torturing and death of the men who spoke against him, and he ordered the attacks on us – the team that turned him finally in. And therefore they also worked against the team of Agent Price. He also investigated against Levine and delivered most of the evidence that was used at court.«

Grace asked: »How could he be so powerful to be behind all this? He´s got no connections to the outside and all his favorite mercenaries are also in jail. But wait…« She stopped talking and thought about something.

»Maybe he is more powerful than we expected.« Jane said. »We all made the mistake to underestimate him. We read his file, but maybe even Price did not know all about him. A good villain has his friends, everywhere. We must eliminate these connections, to stop him.«

Rigsby sat down and his facial expression was like as if someone had hit him. »And now it is getting all worse.« he whispered. »With the murders of Mallory and Ramirez… the public knows. Everyone knows that Red John is not dead. Jane will be in trouble.«

»I was in trouble before. It was only natural that the witness called the police. These killings were made on purpose, because they seemed to recognize that we won´t give away our secrets. They had to do something more… cruel. To get their plan to the next level.«

Now Van Pelt got it: »The cell phone! The caller on the cell phone… he talked to me, and surely we can track back the number to someone… maybe that´s the first real trace who´s the connection between Levine and the outside. And there is another thing. I think that I have heard the voice before… not long ago.«

Lisbon said. »Let´s go to the HQ and check it out.«

:-:

When Lisbon and the team reached the CBI it was clear that almost everyone who was annoying must have heard from this Red John attack, and Van Pelts accident. Some reporter teams were already there, speculating about the resurrection of Red John, who – according to the CBI, had been killed. They wanted to know why now there could be a murder done by a man who was already dead, case closed… but the five of them fought their way through the barrier of cameras and reporters, and stepped into the building.

Wainwright was awaiting them right behind the entrance area. »Where have you all been!« he asked. »I tried to phone you all night!« then he sighed. »Nice to see you, Agent Van Pelt. You are fine except of you broken arm, and the stitches, I hope?«

»I am, thank you.« Grace replied.

»We were at the hospital.« Lisbon explained. »They must have a cell-phone barrier there. Could we talk inside your bureau, please, we have some bad news.«

They retreated in the bureau and there Lisbon told Wainwright about the last night, and the attack on Van Pelt; she also explained that she thought that the killings of Agent Mallory and Ramirez were linked with that; also the murder and the torturing of the other victims. The young special Agent was deeply shocked.

»Ok… if you say it was not Red John, then we have to hold this back for the moment. I must talk to Bertram and we must make some press announcement. We´ll only say that we are too deep in the investigations to deny or confirm anything. Is that ok with you? And you, please work on that phone. It could really be a link to Levine and his contact persons. If we can somehow put Levine into direct connection with the murders and the attacks, he´s up for maximum security level, and the death sentence will be confirmed without doubt. But I can´t give you much time. It is Monday now… and… what the…« he rose out of his seat.

Also Lisbon jumped to her feet. Without any doubt there was a trouble downstairs, where the other bureaus were. They both hurried out of Wainwright´s room and as soon they were on the stairs, they saw what was going on. Cho and Rigsby were arguing with two other men in suits. Wainwright and Lisbon hurried closer and could hear them. The men that had arrived were from the FBI, and they were here to get Jane arrested.

»There are a lot of doubts in his case.« Agent Percly from the FBI said. He was a broad-build Afro American man, and he had no need to yell or use an aggressive undertone. He knew that he was right. »If Red John is still alive Mr. Jane lied at the court; and his sentence was based on perjury. This is a really bad situation. We certainly do not want to prejudice someone, but we have to ask him a few questions.«

Rigsby replied: »Yes, that is ok, but you can do this without arresting him. And we will prove soon that these murders were not done by Red John. Red John is dead.«

Cho also said: »You are wrong, believe me. This was done by another person.«

The other FBI-Agent, a smaller black haired man, insisted: »Maybe. But Jane is dangerous, and it is he proved lots of times that he is able to get his head out of anything. He broke out of prison once, and also this time there is a high risk of an escape attempt. He has no relatives or other connections, we must arrest him somewhere safe.«

Lisbon explained: »He won´t try to escape.«

Jane joined the discussion from a distance. He still was on his couch, protected by Grace Van Pelt who had repositioned her desk a little bit: »It was not Red John. Believe me.«

»Everyone could say that. Prove it.« the smaller FBI Agent demanded, then he turned to Lisbon again: »We have an official warrant from the state attorney, and also the lawyer of the Carter family has re-opened the case. We can´t let him go so easily. No matter what you try to tell us… you´ll have to confirm with one hundred percent certainty that it was definitely not Red John, ere we drop the case again. We will take Mr. Jane with us.«

»Where do you take him to?« Teresa asked.

FBI-Agent Percly answered: »He´s citizen of Sacramento County, so he will have his detention arrest in the Sacramento County Jail. But at first we take him to our local office for questioning. This is no secret and if you wish it, he can take his attorney with him.«

Cho shook his head: »Sac County Jail. Exactly what Levine wanted.« He cast a look at Wainwright, who knew the story now. Do something, Agent Cho asked him without words.

Wainwright tried to flatten the waves: »I offer you the CBI questioning rooms, and if needed, also the CBI arrest cell down in the cellar. You´ll have every support you need.«

The smaller FBI Agent shook his head: »No, thank you. I think that you have enough to do right now and – to be honest; Mr. Jane feels too much "at home" here. We´ll take him to our local office, and then to the jail. I think he´ll only have to stay there until we reached some agreement about a bail, maybe he´ll get an electronic shackle… but that is the decision of the state attorney. I can tell you, the man is not happy that Jane lied at him.«

Now FBI Agent Percly demanded: »Mister Jane, please follow us. You can have it the easy, or the hard way. But I promise you that it would look much better if you come with us on your own will. We do not need hand-cuffs.«

Lisbon tried to protest again, but Jane shook his head: »No. I will go. They have every right to take me with them. If you want to help me, the only thing you can do, is to prove that this was not Red Johns doing.« He stood up, took his suit jacket and went to the second door of the bureau; without haste, and apparently without any fear.

»Patrick.« Teresa said. »We cannot protect you if you are in jail.« No one seemed to wonder that she was on a friendly "du-term" with him all for sudden, so she spoke on: »I am afraid that Levine tries to get you in his hands as fast as possible… he can never know when you´ll be able to leave the prison on bail… so he´ll try soon.«

»I know.« he said, smiling. »Take care of you.« He talked much less than usual, but there was nothing more to say. They knew it all.

The FBI Agents looked at each other, then the smaller one asked: »Levine? Who is that? Why are you talking about that person now? Is this some kind of distraction?«

»No it is not.« Wainwright said. »If you allow it, I will accompany you to the FBI´s local office. We can talk on the way, and I will enlighten you.«

»Ok.« the FBI Agents were content. They said goodbye and went outside.

Luther Wainwright turned to Lisbon and told her: »I will try to keep Jane out of the County Jail as long as possible. You really hurry up, will you?«

»Yes, of course.« Lisbon looked after them with an uneasy feeling. She knew that she could not do anything to protect him. Levine had pulled the right strings. And now Jane was on the direct delivery to him.