"You've got to be kidding," Lisbon burst out.

Patrick started to laugh hysterically. Hiccupping, he pressed out, "You're meaning to tell me, that in reality my passport should state some town called Red Bluff as my place of birth?"

"I'm afraid so," Van Pelt answered. "It's about 130 miles north from here. The Sacramento River runs through it actually."

The consultant tried very hard to rein in his emotions but failed. "I know the place. We went there with the circuit every year," he choked out. "The Tehama County Fairgrounds are located there. A carnival takes place there every July. God, I never knew," he whispered brokenly. "That bastard never even let on that it's probably the place my mother's been buried." A few silent tears escaped his eyes, which he wiped away shamefully.

"This is so fucked up, it's beyond words," he added. With a maniacal expression he recapped, "Let's see: I got my mum killed at a place called Red Bluff and some relative of ours, who happens to be a serial killer named Red John, has been hankering after my total destruction for a decade." More tears ran down his cheeks. "I knew this was all my fault," he whispered.

"Oh no, Patrick. You're not going there again," Lisbon scolded him. "I've had it with your constant guilt trips. You didn't kill you mother, for heaven's sake! She died during childbirth. That's tragic, but it happens." She glared at him angrily and poked him in the chest to emphasize her next words. "It's not your fault and neither is whatever might've derived from it. Which, by the way, we don't know anything about as of yet. It might still all be a coincidence. And even if it's not, it's a connection made up by a sick psychopath." With a final poke she asked strictly, "And that's all there is to say on this matter. Do I make myself clear, Jane?"

"Crystal," he replied tonelessly, still looking rather unconvinced.

She decided to ignore it for the time being. "I suggest, we take a trip to that place and try to verify the data at the local City Hall. Maybe we'll find some additional leads there. Grace, did you get anything else on Anne Earl's family?"

The redhead nodded eagerly. "Yes. According to the records Anne Earl had a stillborn son in 1970. Both died during childbirth. Well, that's weird and obviously wrong. Anyway, her mother, a Charlotte Henderson, was a British citizen, while her father, Leroy Earl, was from Carson City, Nevada. Her mother died in 1960. The father remarried a year later. A woman named Rose Farrow. They relocated to Fresno." She looked up at the others for a moment, before she continued. "There's a son from that second marriage, born in 1962. His name's Joseph Dean Earl. That marriage seems to have been bumpy. From what I can gather some kind of abuse must have occurred, because social services and child protection got involved at some point. And Joseph went into foster care in 1969." She took a breath. "And the parents filled a missing person report for Anne the same year, and one for their son in 1985. That's pretty much it. Leroy died in 1989, his second wife a year later."

"It's him," Jane exclaimed. "Joseph Dean Earl. Gale Bertram's or rather Red John's real identity. It all makes sense."

Lisbon raised her brows, "It does?"

He nodded eagerly. "Yes. The name, the age, the whole biography." All attention had turned to him. "Well, it's not exactly a real anagram, but his name at least includes all the necessary letters to spell his alias, and we all know how much he loves those wordplays." He cast everyone a meaningful glance. "Incidentally, his father's name was Leroy, Roy for short, while his mother's maiden name, Farrow, derives from the Latin word ferrum, iron. This brings us to Roy Tagliaferro, which-", he said with emphasis, "-ironically and rather fittingly, translates into cut-iron, another one of his aliases as we all know." He looked triumphant at his deductions and the shocked expressions of the others. "He should be 51 now, the same age as the man known as Gale Bertram. We would share some DNA, but the connection wouldn't be too close, considering that my mother was only his half-sister."

Lisbon looked thoughtful for a moment. "Yeah, I think you're right. It's even the perfect psychological profile for a serial killer. Troubled childhood, became part of the system, lost his sister, maybe his closest ally during his early years. And he disappeared in 1985. And it's not unlikely that he joined Visualize at some point during that time. A sect often attracts struggling youths after all."

Cho joined into the conversation. "It really seems plausible. It would also explain why that Visualize guy, Bret Stiles, covers for him. With his high-ranking position, Bertram must've been a tremendous help protecting them from prosecution."

"And if his sister really was an important, if not the most important person during his early childhood, it might explain why he took her running off with a carnie especially badly. Plus, he ended up in foster care the same year she abandoned him. Guess he must've felt betrayed," Lisbon concluded.

"That's mostly speculation though," Jane chimed in. "For all we know, she might've bunked because her little brother showed signs of being an utterly sick bastard." After a short pause and a humorless laugh he added, "Just her luck, she ended up with another one."


Lisbon shook her head in dismay. "Okay, guys. Let's stop the wild guessing and keep to the facts. I think it's safe to say that Red John is Joseph Dean Earl. And I'm pretty sure, we can also assert that his initial killings had nothing to do with you, Patrick." She cast a pointed look at her lover. "When you first joined the investigation, with SacPD at the time, he'd already established himself as the serial killer Red John after all."

Jane nodded, albeit reluctantly. "I guess, you're right. And considering what we know about his personality, he might've simply done some research about the people involved in the investigation of his case. He would've enjoyed that. It would absolutely match his MO."

The senior agent caught on to his train of thought immediately and took over, "Yes. And that's when he found out about your connection to him. If he only had access to the official information, it must've taken him a while to connect the dots, however. Because according to the records his sister only ever had a stillborn child. It must've come as quite a shock for him to realize that his sister died but you survived and were helping the police finding him."

The curly blond man snorted. "Yeah, and then I spite him in public to boot."

LaRoche, who'd been a silent observer during most of the latest revelations, chimed in. "Well, no wonder he's made this personal."

"No. It's totally sick!" Van Pelt exclaimed. "Any normal person would've been elated to find out they had a living relative, not be driven to kill that relative's wife and child."

Jane snorted again and eyed the younger woman with something akin to pity. His voice was both sarcastic and condescending when he replied, "Though I find it somewhat endearing that you still pretend to be ignorant of the way of the world, even after all your hard won personal experiences over the years, I think that you'll agree with me when I say we can firmly establish that normal is about the last word one would possibly apply to anything connected to that bastard, Grace. Please don't play naïve. It doesn't suit you."

"Jane, stop patronizing her just because her misfortune hasn't turned her into a cynic like you," Lisbon scolded him angrily, before she cast a warm glance in the direction of her youngest subordinate. "She doesn't deserve your vitriol. I, for one, am glad Grace can still acknowledge just how sick and horrible this whole matter is. Frankly, it gives me the creeps as well." She shuddered and, with a withering look at LaRoche, she added, "And it's disturbing that you seem to find some logic in the fact that a man slaughters his nephew's closest family brutally as punishment for some careless remarks on a TV show."

The overweight agent raised his hands in a gesture meant to be pacifying. "That's not what I meant, Agent Lisbon," he said neutrally. "I simply attempted to look at the whole matter from Red John's point of view. That implies the thinking pattern of a psychopath, of course. It doesn't in any way reflect my own opinion, I assure you."

"Folks, let's all take a deep breath and focus on the matter at hand again. Fighting each other is the last thing we need right now." Cho's calm demeanor eased everybody at once.

"Thanks for getting us back on track, Cho," Lisbon said sheepishly. "We're all a bit jittery at the moment. I'm sorry if I offended anyone."

"Me too," Jane mumbled shamefaced. "Sorry, Grasshopper."

The redhead cast him a warm smile, "No problem, Jane. I understand. Well, kind of." Very quietly she added, "I don't think anyone can possibly understand what you're going through right now."

"Ah, don't worry. I'm used to life-altering revelations by now. It's only the regular everyday-madness of being Patrick Jane," the consultant replied in a desperate attempt to lighten the mood. "Just a few weeks ago, I was practically an orphan, now I'm gaining bunches of new relatives all the time. All sunshine and cupcakes, right?"

Nobody laughed.

With a sigh Lisbon took lead of the situation again. "Alright. That's what we'll do: Grace, you keep digging. Find out even the tiniest bits of information you can get on Joseph Dean Earl and Anne Charlotte Earl. Look for any clues concerning his home situation as a child, the involvement of social services and the like. There must be records about it somewhere. They lived in Fresno at some point. Maybe you'll get something there. I want you to go there together with Agent LaRoche, if that's okay with you, J. J.?" The bald man nodded. "I know, it's a bit of a drive, but if you start now, you should be back by nightfall. We're spending the night at Madeleine's again. So go there upon your return."

They both confirmed her orders and she continued, "Jane, Cho and I will go to Red Bluff and try to gather information there. All right, let's go."


They all grabbed their jackets, phones and other essentials and left Lisbon's office. After a short, quiet conversation with LaRoche, the senior agent approached one of the other team leaders in the serious crimes unit, a guy named James Carl, and asked him to take over as acting supervisor for the rest of the day because she needed to personally attend to an urgent matter concerning one of her team's cases.

Lisbon asked Cho to contact Rigsby and bring him and Hightower up to date as soon as they'd left the parking lot. Her second in command had taken the backseat with Jane riding shotgun. She cast what she thought to be furtive sideways glances at him until he called her out on it. "Stop watching me like that, Lisbon," he grumbled. "I'm not going to flip out or something. Not that I wouldn't have a reason to," he added meekly.

She squeezed his thigh gently to offer some comfort, but didn't attempt to talk to him, sensing his need for some silence. Cho informed them that Rigsby hadn't died from boredom yet, and in fact seemed to be having the time of his life at City Hall. "Something about secretaries and birthday cakes," he told them. "I stopped listening after the first mentioning of food." Afterwards he took out a book and started to read until Lisbon asked him to call ahead and try to get an appointment at the Red Bluff City Hall with the person responsible for the registers of birth and death about an hour into the drive.

"I don't want us to arrive to closed doors," she explained.

Cho nodded and found his phone. After a short conversation he hung up. "We're being expected," he said. "And I actually spoke to the one in charge of the records. She told me that there's definitely a grave site for a woman named Anne Earl on St. Mary's cemetery. It's being paid for in cash every year."

"Interesting," Jane commented in a neutral voice, which didn't fool either of the car's other occupants.

When they reached the town 40 minutes later, the consultant asked Lisbon to turn to the right and follow his directions, though her GPS told her that the City Hall was located more in the town center. He asked her to trust him and that he'd been there before, several times in fact. When he announced that they'd reached their destination, Lisbon was faced with a big sign reading 'St. Mary's Cemetery'.


"What the hell, Jane?" she asked grumpily.

"Okay, I have reached my destination. You two go on to meet that lady, I'll have a look around here," the consultant answered with a sheepish grin and readied himself to leave the car.

"Jane!" Her brows furrowed in irritation, and she took hold of his arm to prevent him from getting out of the car.

"Ah, come on, Lisbon. I won't be of much use there anyway and you know I'm not good with all that red tape stuff," he explained with forced nonchalance.

She sighed, took a deep breath and sighed again. She took hold of his hand and entwined their fingers. Her eyes searched his and found deep sorrow there, but at least he didn't try to conceal it. Then, as calmly as possible, she addressed him. "Patrick, I understand your need to find your mother's grave. I really do and I don't mind. But first we need to talk to that lady and then we'll come back here together. Agreed?"

"I'd rather have a little time to myself, if you don't mind," he replied quietly. "I really need it," he added after bringing their entwined hands up to his lips, kissing the back of hers.

Yet another sigh escaped her. "It's not that I don't understand. I do, but it's just not possible right now. We need to stay together, you know that, Patrick." She tried to reason with him. "Please don't make this even more difficult than it has to be."

"I'll be fine on my own, Lisbon. I need to be alone, I need to breathe. We've been cooped up together for too long, and all that new information… I need time. I can't function like this," he explained in a pained tone.

"Patrick, no. While I admit that you might be relatively safe just about anywhere else at the moment, I wouldn't be too certain of it, should he meet you at your mother's grave. Surely you of all people realize that." She looked at him with determination, and when she saw the stubborn glint in his eyes she went on furiously, "Hell, Patrick. You know how angry he is with you already. I can't even imagine what he'd be capable of should he encounter you here of all places. Can you please at least try to see reason for once?"

"She's right, Jane," Cho chimed in. "I might not know all the details but from what we found out today, it's safe to assume that a lot of his grievances with you are based on your genetic connection." With a tone that signaled that Kimball Cho really meant business, he added, "And just to make it clear: I'll do whatever it takes – and that includes physical force, if necessary – to stop you from going off on your own."

Jane held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Alright, alright. Two cops teaming up against me – I get it. No peace to be found anytime soon. It's ridiculous, but if you want to play it like that…"

Lisbon started the car again and followed her GPS to the City Hall, not trusting her boyfriend to direct her correctly. He was in quite a mood, she could see, and was pouting. Not that she would tell him that to his face – he'd only sulk more – but with that particular expression he looked like a petulant child to her.

She didn't appreciate his childish behavior, but she knew him well enough to understand his motives. It was his wont to work through problems on his own. He needed time, peace and quiet for it, all of which had been taken from him due to circumstances beyond his control. That most of the latest and utterly shocking revelations were actually very closely connected to him didn't exactly make things any easier. She would've really liked to grant him the time to come to terms with all this new data about his own roots. Especially as she was aware of the immense guilt he'd been carrying about his mother's death all his life. No matter what they'd find out at the City Hall and how late it would be, she swore to herself that they'd go back and find Anne Earl's grave site if that remained his wish.


TBC

A/N1: So, more background information on RJ (and Jane). I hope, you won't think it all too far-fetched. Somehow I can very well imagine that there were additional contributing factors other than Jane's in actual fact rather harmless words on that fateful TV show that made RJ react so violently. In my story he made it that personal, because it is personal. Feel free to let me know what you think.

A/N2: I know, it's hard to compete with all the spoilers and news flying around right now. We're obviously up for an interesting Season Six with a lot of change. I hope, you can still enjoy my fic and ideas though everything's AU by now. But at least all the revelations from 5.22 (i. e. Jane's happy memory etc.) point to some kind of personal (or even carnie) connection between RJ and Jane - either that or they would really have to go down the 'psychic-route' with RJ which isn't very likely and wouldn't suit the whole set-up of the show. Furthermore there was carnie equipment spread around the whole place where Lorelei's body was found in 5.16. So my ideas might not be that far off anyway...