I definitely don't own the Mentalist or make any money from fanfiction. This chapter is from Lisbon's POV.

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Half an hour after the pizza boxes were cleared away, I have just finished the immediate paperwork around the return of baby Caitlin to her father, ready to file it in the morning. Cho, Rigsby and van Pelt have all left for the night. They deserve an evening off, to start again on this newest Red John case tomorrow. It's not like we can expect any breaks on that anytime soon. We can see if Miriam Gottleib is any more forthcoming after a night in the cells, though the way in which she switched off when Jane opened that envelope made me wonder if she'd been hypnotised or brainwashed in some other way. Or maybe it was the kind of shutdown that you sometimes see in people who have been badly abused, particularly as children.

No sight of Jane so I guess he's in the attic.

Well, no time like the present. If the DVD was nothing, Jane would have been back down here by now. Unless, of course, he's dozed off. Either way, it's time to find out.

Bashing on his door, I am surprised that it opens so quickly. He must have been waiting for me. One look in his eyes tells me it's bad. He looks dazed. In shock. As I step past him, I hear him re-sealing the door before he guides me to the seat at his little table and hits the play button on my laptop.

Lorelei Martins! That was a shock. It was around 2 months ago now that we found her mutilated body beneath a smiley face on that fairground rig. And that was definitely Lorelei – we'd made sure. Oh God. This was cruel. I never did work out exactly what Jane's feelings towards her were but I know that they ran deep. Much as I hated it, Jane and Lorelei had a connection, even if he plays it down. They had sex. And he's been up here alone. Watching this.

I look up but all I can see is his back. He's staring out over the Sacramento skyline. And I really don't know what to say.

Lorelei begins to speak, and I note from the black eye and the bandage on her arm that she's been in some kind of a fight.

"Patrick, you can see that things didn't exactly work out as I had planned. You may say 'I told you so.'"

I feel Jane's gaze as it flicks to me. Dammit. What has he been keeping from me?

Lorelei continues, explaining Red John's reactions, and I am stuck by her courage and her dignity. I never liked the woman. Even my mindless jealousy aside – and I can see that I was jealous – she was a vicious little minx in our custody. But here I can see the woman that Jane was attracted to. The person she could have been if Red John had not taken an interest in her and her sister. I can only hope that if I ever find myself in the position Lorelei has, captive and waiting for a tortuous and drawn out death at the hands of a sadistic psychopath, that I face it even half as well.

Jane throws me another look. More lingering this time. And I can see that his thoughts are similar. How do you handle the knowledge of your imminent and agonising demise?

And then we get to the letter from Red John, and the suspect list. One head of an international cult with major financial and political clout, one senior member of Homeland Security, seconded to work with the CBI and FBI, four members of law enforcement, including the CBI director, and one CSI technician. And the law enforcement covers the CBI, FBI and local PD. What the hell.

But….not only has Jane come up with this list, Red John has done so independently, ahead of him.

Oh, hell.

And now, Red John is going on the rampage. Just what we need.

I look back over the names, and their photos stare at me from the edge of the laptop. I can't believe it. I know all of these people and have worked with most of them. One of them is Red John?

Brett Stiles – powerful, charismatic and skilled in mind games, including, most likely, hypnosis. Leader of Visualise – a highly secretive cult known to have deeply infiltrated many organisations including the CBI. Unproven speculation has linked him with at least one murder and, circumstantially, several others. He has, on occasion, acted as the mouthpiece of Red John.

Gale Bertram – Director of the CBI! My boss!

Ray Haffner - a senior special agent in the CBI with known links to Visualise and likely to have been at Elleston Farm at the time of the murders there. Quiet and controlled but determined. The man who had tried to lure me away from the CBI and my team – exploring my price, in a way. Also affable and charming. Highly intelligent. Expert in creative surveillance… And someone I had considered a valued colleague!

Reede Smith – An FBI hothead and borderline thug. Smart ass.

Bob Kirkland - an unknown quantity if ever there was one. Powerful and well connected as able to come and go throughout law enforcement at will. Heavily involved in cases with Lorelei Martins and other Red John associates. Possible murderer of Jason Lennon. A fixer? Or Red John. And also potentially big on sureptious monitoring. The way in which he muscled in on Lennon in the ambulance. How did he know?

Sheriff Tom McAllister – why on earth would he be on the list? A small town rural sheriff. OK, we dealt with 2 trainee psychopaths on his turf – the Shand Creek Winery – but they both died and there were no apparent links to the Sheriff. He just seemed a bit on the unimaginative and less than thorough side.

Brett Partridge – as Jane would say, a ghoul who enjoys his work too much. Knowledgeable in crime scene interrogation and forensics. Potentially another fixer? Difficult to see how he would attract the range and breadth of followers that have shown loyalty to Red John - Dumar Hardy, Todd Johnson, Rebecca from Bosco's office, Gupta, the bomb-crazy garage attendant, Craig O'Laughlin, Timothy and Sally Carter, Lorelei Martins and now Miriam Gottlieb and possibly Sean Barlow as well.

But then again, the most dangerous and sadistic sociopaths and psychopaths often masquerade as the most ordinary, every day kind of people. So what do I know?

I must have been staring at the names for quite a while because, when my phone rings, it startles me. Jane is still impassive by the window.

We're up. Miriam Gottleib. Well that's a surprise.

"Jane, let's go…." I order.

"Meet you in the lot in 5 minutes," he promises.

Time to grab my bag from the office and get to work. I'll call the others on my way out.

If I keep busy, focus on the task in hand, I won't need to worry about what to tell them.

What am I going to say?

Arriving on site, 25 minutes later, it's clear that Miriam Gottlieb was poisoned. The small ziplock plastic bag suggests a tablet and its location is consistent with, though not necessarily indicative of, suicide. Did she have it on her? We didn't strip search her so it could have been in her bra or up her sleeve. And she knew the game was likely to be up before she arrived at the house. Alternatively, did one of the local PD give it to her? Or the driver? He certainly looks shaken though I'll await Jane's call on that.

One thing is for sure. Red John's network is far larger and far more powerful that I'd ever dared to contemplate.

As I turn away, with a deep sigh, Cho moves alongside me.

"You OK, boss?" he asks quietly.

I really wish I knew!