The Lawyer's Wallet
Summary: When a Lawyer and Neal clash, Neal decides to pick the man's pocket to aggravate the man. But when the wallet reveals secrets about the Lawyer's criminal life, the FBI must bring him to justice. WARNING: Contains the disciplinary spanking of an adult male.
Disclaimer: I am not connected to the show in any way, I just write for entertainment.
Note: Set around the beginning of the second season, I guess.
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Neal walked out of June's and saw Peter's car parked in front. He opened the door and slid inside.
"Morning, Peter." He greeted.
"Morning."
"What's the new case?" Neal wanted to know. Peter had called him twenty minutes before and told him to get ready. Since it was a Saturday and they were supposed to have had the day off, Neal had still been in bed.
"Stolen Ming vase, worth over a quarter of a million dollars."
"Museum?"
"No, it was a home invasion."
"The Ming the only thing stolen?"
"Yes."
"Whose home?"
"Tim Dresser."
"Peter, no." Neal said, with pleading eyes. "Can't Jones and Diana handle this one?"
"No." Peter couldn't help but smile slightly at the younger man's discomfort.
"Peter, he doesn't like me. He has tried to have me convicted of art thief twice."
"So."
"So, I didn't steal either painting."
Peter gave him a sideways glance, but said nothing.
"I swear I didn't steal them." Neal insisted. "One of his wealthy clients probably did and tried to pin it on me."
"Cowboy up." Peter said.
Neal sighed and then sulked the rest of the ride, which only lasted a few more minutes. Peter parked his car in front of a large three story house and the two men got out and walked to the door.
Before they could knock, the door was opened by a middle aged woman in a maid's uniform. She led them into Dresser's home office, where the man was sitting at a large desk.
"Mr. Dresser." Peter said. "I am Agent Peter Burke, and I think you know Neal Caffrey."
"Of course." Dresser said, standing up and approaching the men. He was in his late fifties with thinning gray hair. He looked at Neal in disgust. "Why the FBI would want a common thief working with them is beyond me."
"I am not common." Neal said, with a smile.
Peter shot the younger man a warning look.
"Can you tell us what happened?" Peter asked.
"I came home and noticed that the dining room window was broke, and that the alarm system had been disabled. I phoned the police and then searched my house, I discovered the vase missing."
"Who all knew about the vase, and its value?" Neal asked.
"Must I converse with him?" Dresser asked Peter.
"Just answer the question." Peter said.
"Many people knew, I purchased it at a public action last week."
"How was the alarm disabled?" Peter asked.
Cut at the control box outside, someone picked the lock." He looked at Neal.
"I have an alibi." Neal said, getting really tired of the man.
"If the prosecuting attorney had done his job correctly, then your alibi would have been that you were in prison."
"The prosecuting attorney didn't have a case; I did not steal those paintings."
"Then who did?"
"My guess would be one of your clients."
"That it….."
"Hey!" Peter snapped.
"I demand that this thief leave." Dresser said, spat out.
"Neal, wait for me in the car." Peter said.
"Peter, I…." Neal started, but Peter grabbed his arm and led him a few feet away.
"Wait for me in the car." He repeated, his voice left no room for argument. Neal stalked from the house.
He couldn't believe Peter took Dresser's side over his, couldn't believe that Peter thought he stole the paintings. But why wouldn't he think that? Neal was a master thief. He had stolen many things. But he thought Peter was able to look beyond that now.
Neal was sitting in the car, staring out the window when Peter climbed back in behind the steering wheel.
"You can't let Dresser get to you." Peter said.
Neal turned and looked the older man in the eyes, surprised not to find his eyes glaring at him. "I didn't steal those two paintings."
"I know."
"You do?" Neal asked in confusion. "How?"
"You can look anyone in the eye and lie though your teeth." Peter said. "Except for a very few people. I'm one of those people. I know you don't tell me everything, and let me assume things that are not true. But like you once told me, you have never told me an out right lie."
"And I never will." Neal promised.
"I know."
"So what's the plan?" Neal asked with a smile. It felt really good to have someone like Peter who trusted him.
"The plan is for you to lay off of Dresser."
"But he…."
"Neal, I know he's a jerk. But the next time he starts, just walk away."
"But…."
"Neal." Peter growled.
"Fine." The younger man pouted.
"And stop pouting."
"I'm not pouting."
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A few hours later, Peter and Neal were in Peter's office. Peter was on the phone with the forensics team. He hung up and then stood and grabbed his jacket.
"They found prints on the security lock box?" Neal asked, also standing and grabbing his jacket.
"Yeah, Carl Richards."
"Who's he?"
"Small time thief, I've arrested him a couple times for trying to fence stolen items."
"So I'm assuming you know where to look for him."
"Oh yeah, a hole in the wall bar called Jack's Beer Pit."
"I'm guessing they don't serve wine."
"You guessed right."
"I hope he has the vase, I want this case over with."
"Just remember." Peter said. "Do not let Dresser bait you, just ignore him."
"That's hard to do."
"I know, but do it anyway." Peter looked Neal in the eyes and said in a stern voice "And do not, in any way, try to pay him back for his behavior."
"I wasn't planning on doing anything." Neal said.
"Okay, but I know you Neal. I know you have a habit of pulling some boneheaded and childish stunt that's designed to humble people like Dresser."
"When have I ever done that?"
"Last week when we were investigating the theft at that posh jewelry store, then one with the owner that asked if you had an alibi. I saw you rearranging the jewels in the case that he had just said took him hours to arrange properly."
"You saw that?"
"Yes I saw that, and I let it slide. But no more. Anymore stunts like that and you will not like the consequences. Understand?"
"Yes." Neal mumbled, clearly not happy about it.
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"I'm telling you." Carl Richards said, as he downed another shot of whiskey. "It was a piece of cake." He picked up the vase on the bar and laughed. "I am now a very wealthy man."
He turned his head when he heard the front door opening, then his face went pale when he saw Agent Peter Burke. He replaced the vase on the table and bolted towards the back.
"Stop Carl!" Peter shouted, but the man kept running. Peter ran after him.
Neal started to follow, then saw the bartender picking up the vase.
"It can't be that easy." Neal said to himself, walking over to the bar.
"What have you got there?" Neal asked.
"That clown that just ran out claims this thing is worth a lot of money." The bartender shook his head. "Probably ain't worth over fifty bucks."
"I'll give you a hundred."
"Sure."
The bartender quickly grabbed the hundred dollar bill that Neal held out, it didn't bother him at all that the vase wasn't his to sell.
"Now I get Dresser out of my life again." Neal smiled.
"Thank you so much for the help, Neal." A very winded Peter said, as he walked over with a cuffed Carl Richards.
"Look what I just bought for a hundred dollars." Neal smiled, holding up the vase.
"Is it the real one?" Peter wanted to know.
"Yes."
"Damn this was easy."
"I know."
"I want a lawyer." Richards said.
The three men walked out of the bar.
"Hey Peter, the bureau is going to reimburse me. Right?"
"Depends." Peter said. "Where did you get the hundred bucks?"
"Never mind."
"Neal."
"What?"
"Where did you get the money?"
"From my pocket."
"And where was it before it was in your pocket?"
"Tip jar on the bar."
"Neal!" Peter hissed. Then he got a confused look. "Who would tip a hundred bucks at a bar like that?"
"Probably someone who had a few too many beers." Neal replied.
"Didn't give you the right to steal it." Peter pointed out.
"Come on, Peter." Neal said. "The bartender had no right selling a vase that wasn't his."
Peter sighed and hook his head, but said nothing.
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An hour later, Dresser walked into the bureau and directly over to Peter and Neal. The two men were standing by Neal's desk.
"You have my vase?" Dresser asked.
"Yes." Peter said. "Right now it is evidence, but we will return it soon."
"Just do not let Caffrey anywhere near it." Dresser said, once again giving Neal a disgusted look.
"It was Neal that found the vase." Peter said, getting real annoyed at the man.
"That's because he was probably in on it." Dresser said.
Neal stepped in front of the man and they were standing toe to toe, each glaring a the other one.
"Admit you arranged for those paintings to be stolen." Neal said. "Or that one of your clients stole them, so you tried to pin it on me."
"That is ridiculous."
"That is the truth."
"Back off Neal." Peter said, grabbing the younger man's arm and pulling him away.
"Yeah, Caffrey." Dresser taunted. "You better listen to your handler."
Neal started to walk towards Dresser again, but Peter still had a hold on his arm.
"Back off Neal." Peter whispered. "I mean it."
Neal nodded and Peter let go.
"I need some fresh air." The younger man said.
He turned and walked out of the room and out of the building. Once he was a block away, a small smile formed on his lips. Neal reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out Dresser's wallet and car keys.
"Time for a little fun." Neal said. "I think he would look good driving around in a pink car." He went trough the wallet and pulled out a credit card. "This will do nicely."
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What do you think? I will have more posted as soon as I can.