Disclaimer - The Mentalist belongs to Bruno Heller and CBS. Not me. Obviously.

A/N - Hi, once again. Thanks for your response to the last chapter. Those of you who reviewed really calmed some of my fears for this story and I am eternally grateful for that. This chapter wasn't easy to write - it's pretty short and if it comes across as disjointed, then let me know and I'll do my best to fix it. For now though, I really hope you enjoy it.

~ Chapter Five ~

Patrick Ruskin, Psychic

"Really?" scoffed Venom, and Jane heard a few jeers around the goons as well. Jane kept his face expressionless, although he had to push away the sudden, irrational need to laugh. God, if only these men had an inkling of how he actually felt about 'psychics'…

"Yep," Jane said, trying to project confidence with every fibre of his being. He might not be at his absolute best, but he'd been doing this gig for most of his life – the last few years excepted – and he was damn good at it, even if he did say so himself.

He fixed his eyes onto 'Venom'. He knew that if he could somehow win over the leader, convince him that he really was a famous psychic, and that he really did have a lot of money - that last bit actually was true, so it shouldn't be too difficult, he told himself - then the goons would have no choice to go along with it, whether they believed it themselves or not. The tricky bit was going to be convincing them that he was famous and rich without making them suspicious enough to check it out.

He took a deep, steadying breath. Time to put on a show.

"Patrick Ruskin's the name," he lied, choosing a name that he was familiar enough with to remember with ease. He didn't want to risk one of them recognising him from his associations with CBI, and though they may not have recognised his face yet, if he gave them his real name then there was always a chance that it would jog their memories. Best to keep it simple.

Jane smiled again, falling into his showman side with an ease that would have worried him had his life not depended on it.

"You're really a psychic?" Venom said, glaring at Jane. It was clear that he would be a hard man to convince. "And there are idiots out there who pay you for it?"

"They used to," Jane replied with a shrug. He smiled. "I can be very convincing. Shall I show you?"

"Sure," drawled Venom with a roll of his eyes.

Jane took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He willed his limbs to stop shaking, almost pushing himself further in the chair to keep himself calm. His life was on the line here…

"I see an old woman," he started after waiting a few minutes for effect, his voice dropping into the tone he had used in all his shows. Low and mysterious. "She's crying."

"She dead?" asked Venom bluntly, a sneer on his lips.

"Yes, she's dead," Jane replied, keeping his eyes closed. "I'm a psychic, of course she's dead."

"And…"

"Shhh," Jane said. "I'm trying to listen….Okay, she's talking to me. She…she seems very sad. I don't think she wanted to die. She's asking me why she had to die."

He jerked slightly as part of the act. Physical movements always seemed to help sell the con. It was as if the marks needed to actually 'see' it to believe it, and right now, Jane was willing to use any trick in the book.

"She's angry," Jane whispered dramatically. "She's says you killed her. It was your fault."

"My fault?" scoffed Venom. "I've never killed an old lady in my life."

Jane somehow doubted that was true, but he ignored the comment. Instead he opened his eyes and fixed his gaze on one of the goons. His mark.

"You," he said, pointing to the man, who flinched slightly at the attention. In that moment, Jane knew that he had nailed it in one.

"I…I don't know what he's talking about, boss," the goon replied. "I ain't never killed no old lady either."

"Yes, you did," Jane said, thinking hard. The man wasn't lying but there was something there…

"No – "

"It was your fault," Jane said suddenly, jerking again as if possessed. "It was all your fault, and that's as bad as killing her. Your own mother…"

"I didn't mean to," the man gasped out. Jane knew he had him now.

"You put her in danger and now she's dead," Jane continued, keeping his voice low.

"I…I'm sorry," replied the goon desperately. "Tell her…tell her Jamie's sorry."

Jane closed his eyes again and relished the silence of the room. His performance had scored again, and hopefully the pay this time would be that he could keep his life…

"He's sorry," Jane told the room. "Jamie is very sorry. He asks for your forgiveness. He knows it was a terrible thing, but he is so very sorry…"

He stilled his body, preparing himself for the final act. He released a long, slow breath, making it seem as all the tension was leaving his body.

Jane opened his eyes and looked at Jamie, pausing for a long moment to let the tension build for the finale.

"She forgives you," Jane said softly. "Your mother forgives you."

By the look of overwhelming relief, Jane knew that he had nailed it completely, and he let a real breath leave his body in relief.

He'd based the whole act on the fact that he'd seen the crucifix poking out from the young man's shirt. It had looked feminine to Jane's practiced eye, so he had immediately suspected that it had belonged to a member of the goon's family. Since 'Jamie' was wearing it, even though it clearly belonged to a woman, that had led Jane to suspect that the owner had passed on and that he was wearing it for sentimental reasons, hence dead mother. The rest of the act had been based on a general air of guilt around the man, a lot of guesswork and no small amount of luck.

But ultimately, Jane determined as he looked around the room, yet another roaring success.

"Damn," breathed Venom. "You really are a psychic."

"Told you he was famous, boss," chimed the goon who had first recognised Jane.

"And you made money off this?" Venom said dangerously, his glare fixed on Jane. He seemed almost disappointed that he wouldn't be able to kill Jane, but Jane saw the glint of greed in his eyes. This man was clearly working for a higher – and probably more intelligent criminal – but he was also obviously a man used to getting what he wanted.

"A lot," Jane said, telling the truth for once. "People pay a lot of money to speak to their loved ones from the beyond."

Jane gulped after he'd finished speaking, trying to calm his shaking hands as he pushed his fear back as far as he could. This was the moment of truth. Would they buy his story and keep him for ransom, or would they kill him and save themselves a hell of a lot of trouble…

"I do not like unnecessary complications," Venom began slowly. He pointed at Jane. "You are an unnecessary complication."

"But…" began Jane, hardly daring to hope. His heart beat loudly in his chest and he felt sweat drip down his back.

"But," continued the leader, "You could make me a very rich man. I bet there are hundreds of suckers out there who'd pay out their asses to see you talk to the dead. You must be loaded."

Jane nodded shakily. "You're not going to kill me then?"

"Not yet," he replied with an ugly sneer that sent shivers down Jane's spine. "Take him back to the room. Give them some food and let them use the restroom. It appears that we have ourselves another guest."

"What about the ransom?" Jane asked, as one of the men grabbed him, pulling him forcibly from the chair.

The man chuckled darkly. "I find that ransoms work so much better if we wait a while before contacting the families. Desperation makes people easier to…manipulate."

Jane shuddered but was spared a reaction by the beefy hand that gripped his shoulder.

"Move."

Jane did as he was told, rattled by his meeting with the leader of this gang. He had always been able to read people, but for once he rather wished he'd lost that particular skill. Venom was a psychopath, there was no doubt about it. Cold hearted, clearly intelligent, the man was shrewd and ruthless. He might have been stupid enough to buy the psychic act for now, but he was clearly blinded by greed and not thinking clearly. Jane knew he had to do everything in his power to keep it that way, because he knew on instinct alone that that man would kill him in heartbeat if he thought Jane could cause him trouble.

"Come on, Lisbon," Jane muttered to himself as he was guided through the winding corridors and eventually pushed forcibly back into the room. "Now would be a great time to come in and save the day…"

The door slammed shut, and Jane stumbled in the darkness, eventually grabbing onto the wall to keep himself upright. The punch he'd taken to the ribs, combined with the drugs and concussion, meant that his strength had been pretty much used up in maintaining his psychic act. He was exhausted, scared and though he knew he'd just bought himself some time, his life – and Liam's – were still very much in the balance.

"Patrick?" Liam said desperately, apparently now fully awake and clearly terrified. "You're alive!"

"Yes, I'm alive, kiddo," Jane replied tiredly, trying to keep the panic and fear out of his voice. He slid down the wall until he was sat down, not even bothering to allow his eyes to adjust. "I'm over here, on the floor. Alive and well."

How much longer he'd be alive however, Jane realised as he felt Liam snuggle into his side, suddenly seemed a lot less certain.

A/N - So how was it? I know there isn't much Jane and Liam interaction in this one, but fear not, there will be lots more to come. We'll also be hearing from the team as well, so there's plenty to look forward to. I hope you stick with me, but for now, thanks for reading!