The Mentalist, Season 6

Teresa Lisbon:
Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Patrick Jane:
No. You're thinking that if Bertram is Red John, he sent us out to the middle of nowhere for a reason. To get us out of the way for when he makes his next move. I am thinking about... trains. Toot toot!

Sonya:
My gosh. I mean, I always knew I had a psychic gift, but this is damn spooky.

Jane:
Psychic gift? Excellent. Tell me, uh, will I enjoy your eggs?

Sonya:
You betcha.

Jane:
We'll see.

[Jane takes a bite of the scrambled eggs]

Jane:
Mmm. You're right, Sonya. These are enjoyable eggs. Room for improvement, but very enjoyable. Good.

Lisbon:
What are we doing, Jane?

Jane:
I'm eating eggs; you're staring at a dry muffin.

Red John:
Well, Patrick, here we are.

[he nudges the body on the floor]

Red John:
Poor fella. Smart, but dumb. It never occurred to him that I am the Blake association.

Jane:
Why'd you have to kill him?

Red John:
Everyone thinks he's Red John, don't they? So... it would seem a fitting end to the story if you two were found dead together. No one will look any deeper.

Jane:
So I'm supposed to die, am I? After all these years? Seems kind of unfair.

Red John:
[in his high-pitched 'Red John' voice] It's totally fair. The game's over, and I won.

Jane:
It's not a game.

Red John:
There's a winner and a loser. That's a game.

Jane:
It's not a game I asked to play.

Red John:
No, but you played it very well nonetheless. You were fun, challenging. Thank you.

Red John:
You probably have a lot of questions for me, huh? We have time, if you want.

Jane:
I have no questions. You're an evil, sexually perverted sociopath with pathetic delusions of grandeur. The rest is just details.

Red John:
Evil, sexually perverted sociopath? Well, I guess I have to own that, but, uh... delusions of grandeur? No. I have no delusions. I built a secret empire. I control the lives of thousands of people. My word is life and death, and nobody knows who I am. Now if that's not grandeur, I don't know what you call it.

Jane:
I'd call it the ravings of a squalid egomaniac.

Red John:
You see? For no reason at all, you... you're rude and contemptuous. That's why your wife and kid are dead. Who are you to butt in here and make obnoxious judgments about me? Who are you? Hmm? Who are you? Nobody. Nobody. You didn't know me. You don't know me. You have no idea. Here's your problem, Pat. You're a smart man, but you are arrogant. You can't imagine someone smarter than you. Which is why I've been ahead of you at every step along the way.

Jane:
You're holding the gun. You want to brag? Go ahead. I'm not gonna stop you.

Red John:
You still don't know how I fooled you, do you? How did I survive that bomb? How did I know all the names on your list?

Jane:
Is this what you've been missing? Appreciation?

Red John:
Please don't kill me. Let me live.

[Jane dials 911 on his cell phone]

Red John:
Please... let me live. I'll tell you how I got the names on your list. I don't care. I-I knew because I have real psychic—

Jane:
Shh.

[Jane wraps his hands around Red John's throat]

Jane:
I want you to blink once for "no" and twice for "yes."

[he nods]

Jane:
Are you sorry that you killed my wife Angela and my daughter Charlotte?

[Red John blinks twice]

Jane:
Good. Good. Are you afraid to die?

[gurgling, Red John blinks twice]

Jane:
Good.

Agent Kim Fischer:
Help me, Lisbon. There are national security issues at play. Jane won't work with us unless we meet his demands.

Lisbon:
He has too much pride to back down. You gotta to give him a win. Meet one of his demands.

Fischer:
One of his demands is you.

Lisbon:
Well, meet another one.

Lisbon:
Why are you being so stubborn? The F.B.I. is offering you a get-out-of-jail-free card.

Jane:
Well, you make that sound like a good thing.

Lisbon:
Isn't it?

Jane:
Not on their terms. If I can't live on my terms, I'm in prison anyway.

Jane:
[surveying the FBI offices] Hmm. I don't see a couch anywhere.

Lisbon:
Don't start trouble. At least not yet.

Agent Jason Wylie:
Hey.

Cho:
Hey.

Wylie:
I can't believe they gave me a desk!

[Wylie giggles and begins setting up his desk]

Wylie:
You can call me "The Coyote."

Cho:
I don't think so.

Wylie:
That's just what they call me downstairs. Don't ask me why, though. They never told me.

Cho:
Your name's Wylie.

Wylie:
Yeah.

Cho:
Wile E. Coyote. "Roadrunner," the cartoon?

Wylie:
No, it's Irish, I think. Uh, good morning, Agent Stanley. Hey... Do you know the Roadrunner and the Coyote?

Agent Stanley:
Yeah. Sex traffickers in Dallas.

Wylie:
[whispering, concerned, to Cho] There's a cartoon about sex trafficking?

Fischer:
Hey, Cho, you got a minute?

Cho:
[long pause, glancing at Wylie] Yeah.

Fischer:
He made fools of us.

Cho:
It won't be the last time.

Fischer:
How do I get him under control?

Cho:
You don't. Jane is what he is. He'll use you to turn every situation to his advantage.

Fischer:
So what would you suggest I do?

Cho:
Use him to your advantage.

Lisbon:
You ran away again, Jane. Not from the F.B.I. - you ran away from me.

Jane:
Yeah, but I ran back.

Lisbon:
How was I supposed to know? I thought you were gone again forever.

Jane:
Okay, you're right. I-I'm sorry, Lisbon. I... I didn't think about you.

Lisbon:
Well, you rarely do.

Jane:
Well that's not true! I made you one of my demands. I'm—I'm not joining the F.B.I. unless they make you a job offer.

Lisbon:
That's my point. What makes you think I want to work with you again? You are difficult and exhausting, and maybe I don't want to put the rest of my life on hold to be your sidekick. Have you ever even thought about that?

Jane:
No... no. I hadn't considered it.

Lisbon:
I got you something.

Jane:
For me?

Lisbon:
Mm-hmm.

[she hands Jane a gift in a paper bag, which he opens]

Jane:
[moved] You got me socks!

Lisbon:
Handmade in Washington.

Jane:
Aww!

Lisbon:
[sighing] This room makes me feel like I'm in an aquarium, and everyone's looking at me.

Jane:
Mm. Well, you could very easily feel like they're all in the aquarium and you're looking at them.

Lisbon:
What are you doing?

Jane:
I'm following the conversation. The G-man says that I don't have adequate security clearance to work on the Whitaker case, and Fischer is arguing.

Lisbon:
Are you reading their lips?

Jane:
I would be if I didn't have to answer inane questions.

Lisbon:
Oh, okay, boss.

Jane:
I'm not your boss. Why would you say that?

Lisbon:
It's just that sometimes now you act like you are.

Jane:
But we're equals, partners.

Lisbon:
Okay, fine. Just remember that.

Jane:
I will remember that.

Jane:
[I]f Whitaker was murdered because of his highly sensitive military work with the Pentagon, I shouldn't know anything about that. So, I'll happily leave.

Agent Daniels:
Wait. What did you tell him?

Fischer:
Nothing.

Daniels:
Who told you that he works for the Pentagon? And consider your answer well.

Jane:
You did.

Daniels:
Don't be absurd. I've never seen you before.

Jane:
No, but your presence here told me, because you wouldn't be here if he worked for, uh, Pottery Shack or Pizza Barn, would you?

Daniels:
Excuse me?

Jane:
You're excused. [to Fischer] He's a little slow on the uptake, this one.

Daniels:
Fischer, this is unacceptable.

Fischer:
I apologize, sir—

Jane:
No, no. Hush. Don't apologize. Don't take it out on her. She didn't do anything.

Jane:
Thank you, Curtis. We'll be in touch.

Curtis Whitaker:
Thank you. Good day to you. [Curtis turns to leave the room]

Jane:
[before Curtis exits] Well, he's a prime suspect.

Curtis:
[stops and asks Jane, dumbfounded] Say again?

Jane:
Oh, I was talking to my colleagues. Bye, Curtis.

Jane:
They'll try again. They just need to be lulled into a false sense of security.

Fischer:
And how do we lull them like that?

Jane:
We need to arrest someone else and charge them with Whitaker's murder.

Abbott:
We can't arrest people under false pretenses.

Jane:
We can't?

Abbott and Fischer:
[in unison] No.

Jane:
Why not?

Fischer:
It's illegal.

Jane:
Oh. Well, that's a problem. I guess we need to think outside of the box.

Lisbon:
That's always a bad sign.

Grace Van Pelt:
Hey, are you gonna be home for dinner?

Wayne Rigsby:
Uh, yeah, sure.

Van Pelt:
Wait. Are you at that dirty taco truck?

[Rigsby crams the rest of his taco into his mouth]

Van Pelt:
[sighs] I can literally hear you trying to think up an excuse.

Rigsby:
No, that's the sound of me eating a taco. Salad tonight, I promise. I love you, bye.

Agent Marcus Pike:
I'm Special Agent Marcus Pike. This is Agent Searls. You're Patrick Jane, right? Abbott's guy.

Jane:
Well, he's my guy.

Agent Searls:
Thanks for, uh, sharing your floor with us.

Jane:
You people need some help, huh?

Pike:
[laughs] What makes you say that?

Jane:
[gestures to Searls] His shoulders.

Searls:
[readjusting his posture] Hey, now, uh—

Jane:
Hey, now, I'm just saying, if you need some help, I could help you. I mean, murder is my business.

Pike:
Sure. I've heard good things about you. We'd be happy to have your input.

Fischer:
You volunteered us to handle the case?

Abbott:
I decide what cases we take next.

Jane:
Well, I was just being neighborly, and the art squad seemed all for it.

Fischer:
Well, of course they were. They've been chasing this group for years, with no luck.

Abbott:
And what do you know about catching art thieves?

Jane:
Uh, nothing at all. That's why it'll be fun.

[Fischer laughs]

Abbott:
Okay. We'll take it. Get a hold of Agent Pike in the art squad and get up to speed on this thing. Let's show 'em how it's done.

Pike:
They've done about six jobs between Dallas and Phoenix in the last two years, taken down about $100 million worth in art and artifacts.

Lisbon:
We're in the wrong business.

Jane:
My plan is a little more elaborate, but it's much more entertaining.

Cho:
Of course it is.

Lisbon:
You already have a plan?

Jane:
Well, as you know, Agent Lisbon, the key to a good con is always making the mark feel that he is in control. I mean, you can lead a man anywhere as long as he thinks that he is driving.

Pike:
So how do we do that?

Jane:
Well, first, we rope them in with some flash, then we steer them towards a couple of good inside men, a face. We're gonna need some art for the gaff, and then a good false blow-off.

Pike:
I don't know what any of that means.

Lisbon:
You'll get used to it.

Lisbon:
Where does all this stuff come from?

Pike:
It's stolen.

Lisbon:
What do you mean?

Pike:
Sometimes we get just part of a haul, and we sit on the art so the crooks don't know have a lead, and we keep it here while we investigate the rest of it.

Lisbon:
And nobody knows about it?

Pike:
Well, we keep a pretty tight lid. Our own secret museum.

Lisbon:
Impressive. You bring dates here?

Pike:
No... Just...Once or twice.

Cho:
So, what's the plan to catch these art thieves?

Abbott:
Well, I am just as curious as you are. Jane has been playing this real close to his chest until he figures it out. He said he'll be here to brief us any moment.

Cho:
You sure about that?

[Wylie enters, carrying a notepad and several paper bags]

Wylie:
Morning!

Abbott:
Where's Jane?

Wylie:
Still at the party house.

Lisbon:
The "party house?"

Wylie:
[laughs] Wait till you see it!

Fischer:
Uh, w— this is his idea. How are we supposed to know what to do if he's not here to tell us?

Wylie:
He gave me notes.

Fischer:
Ah.

Abbott:
[chuckles] Okay, very well. Please brief the team, Agent Wylie.

Wylie:
Okay! Uh... Here we go. We want the leader of the gang, the one who shot John Hennigan; to find him, we need to gain the trust of Pulaski. So, we know he likes to spend time at his favorite bar. That's where we rope him. We need to plant some bugs and cameras in the bar.

Cho:
Why?

Wylie:
So I can monitor it from here. [to Abbott, handing him something from a paper bag] You're our roper. Jane said you'd know about boxing.

Abbott:
Oh. Well, I never told him, but, yes, I do. [Abbott unfolds and holds up a khaki jacket]

Wylie:
So does Pulaski. That's a good place to start. Uh, I've got some tips for you, if you, uh...

[Abbott gives Wylie a sidelong glance]

Wylie:
But, uh, you — you probably know what you're doing. [to Cho] You're the muscle. Jane said that you could handle your own wardrobe?

Cho:
Yeah, I can do that.

Wylie:
Uh... oh, Jane said that the two of you could work out the choreography.

Abbott:
Oh, yeah. That's easy.

Wylie:
Lisbon is playing the inside man, uh, uh, woman - inside woman, with Jane. He wants you to wear this. [he tosses her something from another paper bag]

[Lisbon unfolds it to reveal a form-fitting cocktail dress]

Fischer:
Yowza!

Lisbon:
It's a bit much, isn't it?

Wylie:
This is for you.

Fischer:
Oh...

[Fischer opens the bag and removes a leopard-print minidress]

Wylie:
You're the face. Once Pulaski is at the party, you lure him into the bedroom. Uh, Jane's got some ideas...

Fischer:
Uh, yeah. Thanks. I think I've got it under control.

Wylie:
Then Jane and Lisbon take over.

Lisbon:
And then what happens?

Wylie:
Uh... [consults notepad] "And then the fun really starts." That's a direct quote.

Wylie:
That's a nice opening gambit.

Pike:
Well, how's that?

Wylie:
You see what he did there?

Pike:
He asked him for some napkins. So?

Wylie:
Jane told me about this. You want someone to trust you, you don't give them something. You get them to give you something, even something small. It'll make them think they've invested in you. It's all subconscious.

Lisbon:
Oh, isn't he fabulous? Such a mean face. [Pulaski glares at her] Mm, yeah. There it is.

Jane:
Down, girl!

[after Pulaski walks away]

Jane:
You're doing very well. Just a little, uh — a little big.

Lisbon:
Big? Really?

Jane:
Yeah. Try a little less Joan Crawford and a little more Barbara Stanwyck.

Lisbon:
I don't even know what that means. Look, I can't walk, and you're giving me acting tips?

Jane:
Just stay upright. Keep smiling.

Lisbon:
I can't breathe in this dress.

Wylie:
Where did the house come from?

Pike:
Drug forfeiture. On loan from the D.E.A. So, what's the story with Jane and Lisbon?

Wylie:
She was workin' for the California Bureau of Investigation in Sacramento, and then his wife and child were—

Pike:
No, I mean, are they in a relationship? A couple?

Wylie:
No, no. I used to think so, but they're not... I don't think.

Cho:
How's it going?

Wylie:
Going good. You got a nice right cross.

Cho:
Thanks.

Wylie:
We just ate. There's some vindaloo left, I think, if you want.

Cho:
No, I'm good.

Wylie:
So, Abbott roped the mark, got him to the party, he's met the inside man — Jane, that is. Now we're just waiting on the face to lure the mark to the bedroom.

Cho:
[to Pike] Has he been talking like this all night?

Jane:
I keep finding strangers in my bedroom. Guess it was a good party.

Edwin MacKaye:
Okay, cut the cute stuff. You stole these. It's what you do. I mean, these are all stolen.

Lisbon:
How do you know so much about it? Are you a cop?

Jane:
Oh, don't you get it? This gentleman's one of us.

Lisbon:
He doesn't look like one of us.

Jane:
No. He's a heavy, a shooter.

MacKaye:
I'm... direct. And you're one of those grifter types, huh? You, uh, prefer tricks?

Lisbon:
You could say that.

MacKaye:
Never saw a trick that could beat a bullet.

Jane:
Well, it's always nice to get tips from the competition.

Pike:
You're safe. I wouldn't lie to you.

Lisbon:
That's a nice change of pace. I feel like everything I've done today is a lie.

Pike:
Well, you were, uh — you were real good.

Lisbon:
I learned from the best.

Abbott:
Fischer, I want you to handle the streets. Jane gave us a list of things that he needs.

Fischer:
[perusing list] A marching band?

MacKaye:
[holding Jane at gunpoint] A tracking device? You think I'm stupid?

Jane:
Ask me that question again when you don't have a gun.

Abbott:
All right, let's be very clear about something. We don't need you to say anything. We already have the rest of your crew in custody. We have FBI witnesses for armed robbery, assault, kidnapping. We have enough stolen art to start a museum. And, best of all, we have the paintings that prove you killed John Hennigan.

MacKaye:
Lawyer.

Abbott:
Lawyer. Well, that is your right.

Jane:
Oh, what song was the marching band playing, by the way?

MacKaye:
Hmm?

Jane:
The marching band that, uh, blocked off the alleyway. What song were they playing?

MacKaye:
What are you talking about?

Jane:
Well, I requested The Yellow Rose of Texas. Were they playing The Yellow Rose of Texas?

MacKaye:
The garbage truck, the marching band — you did all that? You steered me to the cab, huh?

Jane:
The illusion of control. It made you feel safe enough to go where you kept the paintings. Now, unless you have any further questions about how I played you like a big old bassoon, I have someplace fabulous to go. Au revoir!