FIC: Acrimonious (20-2-2/21)
Title: Acrimonious
Author:
sirenofodysseus
Disclaimer: …it’s probably better that Bruno Heller owns The Mentalist, really.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: After FBI Agent Susan Darcy is overheard telling Special-Agent-in-Charge Luther Wainwright that Patrick Jane may be working with Red John, Red John steals Jane’s body and begins to destroy the team’s lives one-by-one.
Spoilers: Brief spoiler for Crimson Hat (4x24), but the rest of this story is set after Something Rotten in Redmund (4x20).
Warnings: Violence, language, drug use, sex, non-con situations, mentions of child abuse/domestic abuse, negative character portrayals, major and minor character death.
Pairings: Red John/Teresa Lisbon, Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon, Wayne Rigsby/Sarah Harrigan, Kimball Cho/Summer Edgecombe.
20 2/2--
“It’s time.”
Jane hadn’t heard the door to his courthouse holding cell open, but the guard’s gruff voice forced him to his feet. The closing statements and the verdict weren’t needed, as everyone knew he was guilty without a doubt (the body language from the members of the jury had told him that), but the trial had to be fair.
The guard led him from the holding cells and past the hordes of reporters, who lined the main hallway to the courtroom.
“Mr. Jane!”
“Do you think you’ll be found innocent?”
Jane ignored them, as he and the uniformed guard stepped through the double doors to the courtroom. No one turned in his or her seats to glance at him, but he caught sight of the various individuals seated within the viewing gallery.
Lisbon, in the same shabby dark suit she had worn months ago, sat in the far back of the courtroom. She had her arms crossed against her chest and her eyes on the floor, which had made him, wonder how badly things had gotten for her over the weekend. From what little he had gathered from the Sacramento newspapers, the CBI had officially fired Lisbon and her criminal trial (to see if the state could convict her of a felony or sentence her to jail time for being an accomplice in Red John’s murders) was being held sometime next month.
Grace and Cho sat together in the front row of the viewing gallery; Cho in his wheelchair, Grace in her exhaustion. Ardiles had probably warned the both of them against speaking with Lisbon until after the trial, as it might have destroyed his perfect court case. Although, Jane couldn’t see how; Ardiles had the forensic evidence, and he had the jury wrapped around his little finger.
Sarah Harrigan sat a few rows behind Cho and Grace with a scowl on her face. Jane eyed her quickly in contempt; he hadn’t seen Sarah at his trial, since the day Lorelei had informed the entire court that Rigsby had been one of Red John’s many friends.
“Red John offers security to those who need it the most.” Lorelei had said, after Ardiles had asked her about Rigsby. “Wayne had a precious baby boy and a beautiful girlfriend, my sir only wanted to extend an olive branch to the patriarch of the wayward family; “You help me,” my lover had said to Wayne, one evening, “they’ll stay safe.”.”
Jane hadn’t wanted to believe that Rigsby had been working for Red John, but the physical evidence had been found linking Rigsby to Red John.
“In Mr. Jane’s safe, which the Sacramento Police had found hidden inside of Mr. Jane’s closet, he kept trophies from all of his victims as Red John.” Ardiles had explained, as he had pointed at the television, where a picture of the so-called trophies lit up the screen. From where Jane had sat at the defendent table, he had only been able to make out some of the items displayed on the screen: a silver CBI badge, a Ziploc bag of red hair, a laptop, a gun, a knife and something purple. “Within the safe, the Sacramento Police found Wayne Rigsby’s badge, Teresa Lisbon’s service weapon, Grace Van Pelt’s red hair and purple headband, a knife stained with Grace Van Pelt’s and Kayla Rivet’s blood, the laptop used to blow up Kimball Cho and Summer Edgecomb and various other items that tie Mr. Jane to being Red John.”
He had never seen any of those items before, not that the jury would have believed him, but still.
Susan Darcy and Luther Wainwright sat on the far left side of the courtroom; Darcy had her mouth moving to Wainwright, who nodded at whatever she saying with a smile. Like Gale Bertram, Darcy and Wainwright had been constants at his trial for months and Jane found their flirtation (if that’s what they were doing could be called) odd. Wainwright was far too young for Darcy, as he was only twelve-years-old and had probably never slept with a woman before. Darcy was far too old for Wainwright, as she had only apparently bedded murderers.
The guard led him to his seat at the defendant table, before the judge stepped into the room.
“Please rise for the honorable Judge Dallas, presiding.”
Jane stood from his seat, as he heard everybody around him doing the same.
“Be seated.” Judge Dallas said and Jane took his seat in silence, as he waited for the judge to speak again. “Mr. Ardiles, you may begin.”
“Thank you, your honor.” Ardiles replied, as he stood from the prosecutor’s table and stepped to the jury’s box. “Patrick Jane has stood in front of a countless number of judges and juries in his career as a CBI consultant.” Ardiles started, after a few moments of silence. “He uses his charm and powers of persuasion to convince them all that a killer should be thrown into our prisons and let’s face it, he seemed to be right.” Jane tried to restrain his smile at Ardiles’ comment; whether the man hated him or not, he couldn’t not say that he hadn’t been right. “That in fact, who he had been blaming, was indeed the killer to numerous amounts of cases. However,” Ardiles turned to stare at Jane. “He was also putting the idea out there that violence and vengeance was an acceptable method of catching these killers.” Ardiles turned back to the jury. “He would preach this to suspects and to the public. He had even preached it to a jury, just like you. When, in fact, he was on trial for murder, for the first time.” Jane continued to stare.
Sure, his method of catching killers hadn’t always been good for the bureau, but it had always produced results. Wainwright and Darcy hadn’t been complaining when he had caught SJK or when he had helped them solve high profile cases; he figured though, that when he was the prime suspect in the Red John case, complaints had to come forward from all branches of law enforcement.
“Although, how could anybody truly blame him for feeling the way he does?” Ardiles continued. “How could anyone blame him for preaching vengeance, when his own wife and child had been brutally murdered by the serial killer, Red John?” Ardiles paused for a moment. “No matter how you may feel about this man, nobody deserves that. Nobody deserves murder.”
And yet they were putting him on trial for murder? How ironic.
“But it seems that every single time this man,” Ardiles gestured toward Jane, “opens his mouth, a new kind of trouble heads his way. Whether that would be on national television, when he spoke out against the serial killer, who had ultimately killed his family or when he is solving a case, insulting people just because he had a hunch.”
His hunches had solved murder cases, whether Ardiles had wanted to admit that or not to the jurors.
“You would think that Mr. Jane would learn something from all of this, really.” Ardiles said. “That he would stop opening his mouth and actually think, but no, instead, Mr. Jane goes around and continuously mocks our justice system; he taunts suspects, breaks into their homes, and uses illegal methods in order to get a confession.” Ardiles paused again. “Those illegal methods end up sending a killer back onto the streets, because Mr. Jane just couldn’t follow the rules.”
Jane had gotten evidence thrown out of a case once; and it had only been because the law had busted him.
“So, once again, here we all are.” Ardiles went on. “In a courtroom, with you-the jury, who have heard all about the numerous crimes that were committed by Mr. Jane. The same jury, who have been shown the forensic evidence linking him to all of these crimes; evidence that linked him to the brutal murders of both a Confidential Informant for the CBI and for Special Agent Wayne Rigsby, who were of no threat to anyone else, but to Mr. Jane and his agenda.” Jane nearly scoffed, but he kept quiet and still. “Mr. Jane, as you have also seen, is linked to the bombing that paralyzed Special Agent Kimball Cho from the waist down and lastly, you heard the testimonies from Special Agent Grace Van Pelt and Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon, who have both admitted to being raped by Mr. Jane after Wayne Rigsby’s death.” Ardiles turned toward him again. “And that serial killer Red John that was mentioned mere moments ago? Well, Mr. Jane is being charged for those crimes, as well.”
I never killed my wife and daughter, Jane thought, I’ve only killed two others. This is wrong.
“You have also seen the evidence that tells us that Mr. Jane is, in fact, the serial killer that he has been chasing all of these years.” Ardiles gestured toward the television screen, which displayed a picture of Red John’s smiley face. “Mr. Jane has been like a dog, chasing his own tail.”
No, he had been chasing after the actual Red John. He hadn’t been chasing after himself, the CBI’s scapegoat.
“Mr. Jane has had plenty of help during his career as Red John, from Dumar Hardy to Lorelei Martins, who stated that Mr. Jane killed all of his associates, but why should we take the risk of Mr. Jane making more?” Ardiles asked. “Why second-guess yourselves? Why would anyone want to take the chance of putting a well-known serial killer back onto the streets?”
Jane scanned the faces of the individuals on the jury, to find that all twelve of them were drawn into Ardiles’ speech, which didn’t surprise him. Osvaldo Ardiles knew how to appeal to people, because he was a good lawyer.
“You would think, given his long list of offenses, that Mr. Jane might have used the insanity plea, in order to, once again, get off on yet another murder charge.” Jane watched some of the juror’s heads bob up and down. “But, you have heard from expert testimony that Mr. Jane is, in fact, both sane and completely aware of his mental state. You have also heard from several other witnesses that Mr. Jane is capable of all that he has done; those testimonies gave away to the fact that Mr. Jane was consumed with his need for vengeance and that he will and has gone to extreme lengths in order to get what he desires the most.” Ardiles paused to glance at Jane. “Revenge.”
After another pause, Ardiles continued. “Now, you might be thinking, how did anybody not see this coming? How could no one figure out that Mr. Jane might just be the serial killer that they had been chasing for years?” Jane watched Ardiles shrug his shoulders. “What prevented the Serious Crimes Unit from ever questioning Mr. Jane?” Ardiles shrugged his shoulders again, before he focused his attention back onto the jury. “You see, I asked myself all of these same questions, and when I asked Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon if she had investigated Mr. Jane for being the serial killer, she had told me, “No.”.”
Jane resisted his urge to look back at Lisbon, just to see how she was taking Ardiles’ hit again.
“She was his supervising agent for years. She was by his side for all of that time and she notices nothing? How in the world is that even possible?” Ardiles asked the jury. “Because she was so blinded by her child-like crush on the consultant, which then, had turned into a heated affair.” Ardiles took another pause. “And because, she was so blinded by her infatuation for Mr. Jane, she was unable to protect her team; she was unable to save countless lives from being lost. So what did she do instead?” Ardiles glanced out into the viewing gallery and Jane was sure the man had found Lisbon with his eyes. “She thought that getting her urges satisfied were much more important than investigating the Red John case or protecting her people, that when finally FBI Special Agent Susan Darcy caught Red John, Agent Lisbon cried wolf about being raped to keep her job.” He gaped at Ardiles. “So, as a result of poor supervision and a lack of discipline on both parts, Mr. Jane is here today because he finally became too careless as Red John. Whether it was because of his illicit affair with Agent Lisbon or just his lack of forethought, Mr. Jane sits before us.” Ardiles became quiet for a moment. “You’ve seen the evidence, you’ve heard the witnesses testify, you have heard the stories from both parties and all of it comes back to Mr. Jane.” Ardiles turned to face him. “You’ve all been told that he is sane. Don’t let Mr. Jane sway you with his sugarcoated words or fool you with his smile because, for once, Mr. Jane is wrong.”
“Mr. Jane.” Judge Dallas stated, after Ardiles had sat back down at the prosecutor’s table. Jane drew in a deep breath, stood from his seat, before he moved toward the jury, and glanced at them all.
In their minds, he knew he was guilty. Ardiles had delivered one hell of a speech and even if Jane could top it (which was doubtful), he knew he was still spending his entire life behind bars.
Jane cleared his throat and started his defense. “In the time that I have been working with the CBI, I have had one goal in mind.” He continued to stare at the jurors. “To catch the serial killer, Red John, who murdered my beloved wife and child.” Nobody made a movement and he continued. “You may have seen a few years ago that I had killed a man, who I had believed to be the serial killer, Red John? He told me his name, that he had a family, and that he was, in fact, Red John. I believed him. I shot him in the chest and I watched him die.” One of the jurors flinched. “I was arrested and put into a cell, shortly afterwards, and about two weeks into my holding, I realized that I had killed the wrong man. I had killed a semi-innocent man, who had still been a horrible person all together.” Jane took a brief pause. “In the end, my team and I had discovered that Timothy Carter and Sally Carter, his wife, had kidnapped a girl; the duo had locked her up in their basement, while Timothy Carter had joined the search to find her.” Timothy Carter had been a bad man, whether anybody had wanted to believe that or not. Jane knew now, he wasn’t Red John, but back then; it hadn’t mattered. Vengeance had clouded his mind. “The man I killed was a semi-innocent man and so am I. I, admittedly, have done some terrible things, but who hasn’t?” Jane asked the jury. “I got my wife and child killed because of my need for the spotlight and I have been on a quest for vengeance, because of that night.” Jane lowered his voice. “I have been searching for a killer that has gone untouched by the best of law enforcement; I have heard Red John’s voice, I have talked to him or them through various unknown sources, and he has been my demon ever since.”
Jane realized he couldn’t exonerate himself having raped Lisbon or Grace. He realized he couldn’t exonerate himself for having killed Summer or Rigsby. He realized he couldn’t exonerate himself for having almost killed Cho. But he could try and exonerate himself of being Red John.
The jury had to listen to reason, after all, didn’t they?
“He still is now, but what the prosecution has told you, is that I am the serial killer. That I have been chasing myself for all of those years, but the thing is.” Jane paused again. “I don’t remember any of it.” Jane shook his head, slowly. He wasn’t going to win this. “The prosecution has handed you all of the evidence and has provided you with every reason to convict me and as a jury, you have an honor to uphold the law.”
He heard someone gasp from the viewing gallery, but Jane didn’t turn to face them.
“And by all means, please do so.” Jane continued, as he sent one final pleading look toward all of the jurors. “And if that means you must sentence me to a life in prison? Then so be it.”
Jane stepped back from the jury; he had hope that the jury would convict him of life behind bars.
“We the jury, find you, the defendant, Patrick Jane…”
--
Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five 1/2 - Part Five 2/2 - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine 1/2 - Part Nine 2/2 - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen - Part Fourteen - Part Fifteen - Part Sixteen 1/2 - Part Sixteen 2/2 - Part Seventeen - Part Eighteen - Part Nineteen - Part Twenty 1/2 - Part Twenty-One