The Mentalist Site

“Lovely tie, Mr. Henderson,” Jane remarked, leaning in close. “Silk? Or a desperate attempt to feel sophisticated while you’re drowning in debt?” Henderson paled. “I—pardon me?”

Lisbon sighed, already regretting the interaction. “We don’t even have a suspect yet.” The Mentalist

Lisbon watched as Jane played his usual game of mental misdirection . Within ten minutes, Henderson was sobbing, admitting he’d let a "mystery woman" spend the night in the gallery. “Lovely tie, Mr

The air in the California Bureau of Investigation (CBI) office was thick with the scent of stale coffee and unwashed paperwork. , draped over his usual leather couch, stared at the ceiling as if the cracked plaster held the secrets to the universe. ” Jane remarked