Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to the USA Network and Jeff Eastin. This fic specifically pulls references and side characters from Episode 1.13, Front Man, and Episode 2.12, What Happens in Burma. The title comes from Neal's line in Episode 1.09, Vital Signs: "Peter, I've done so many worse things that you don't know about."
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Neal Caffrey is everything his reputation says he is.
Charming, confidant, and a consummate professional with a taste for style, Ryan Wilkes admits that working with him has been an experience like no other. Because Caffrey is good. Extremely good. Better than anyone Wilkes has ever partnered with before, and that is no small achievement. No, Caffrey is special. And this is a relationship that Wilkes wants to develop further.
He says as much after their first job (although it's really only the first step to a larger con) goes off without a hitch. Caffrey has successfully picked and cracked his way into the office building of the company in charge of the security plans for the trunk show. As much as Wilkes admires Caffrey's abilities and skills, he insists on accompanying his partner for the take; after all, Caffrey is a conman, one of the world's best, and Wilkes had not made it as far as he had by trusting the words of people whose careers relied on cheating and scamming. They are in the process of returning the gloves Wilkes had swiped from a janitor's closet when he first suggests it.
"We could be something, you know," he mentions offhandedly. "Partners. Thunder and lightning."
Caffrey's expression is unreadable and his tone dry. "As long as I'm the lightning. I've never been much of a follow-up act kind of guy."
Wilkes laughs. "The famous Caffrey wit I've heard about."
"I wouldn't want to disappoint," Caffrey bows theatrically, but Wilkes can't help but be disappointed. He hadn't been expecting the conman to jump at the offer—Caffrey was too much the suave, collected strategist for that—but Wilkes had hoped for a bit more warmth in the reaction. There was something here. Wilkes sensed it, and he knew that Caffrey could not be oblivious to the prospects their teaming up might provide.
It is easy to shrug off the frustration, though. The operation is going too smoothly for Wilkes to stay upset for long. Having Caffrey on the team brings up the average exponentially— his crew all knows that Wilkes has never been one to overlook slacking in his crew, and they have adjusted accordingly, upping their games to match the benchmarks of excellence Caffrey has unconsciously set.
And it is unconscious.
Because Wilkes is fairly certain that Caffrey does not quite realize how talented he actually is. Modern security standards and law enforcement has made it difficult enough to be a world-class forger or a first rate art thief or a master con artist or an outstanding escape artist separately anymore. To be all of them at once and excel the way Caffrey has managed to should not be possible. Yet the results of that unification is currently lounging on a couch in Wilkes's hide-out lazily shuffling a deck of cards, the very picture of boredom. Until he looks up. Because Wilkes sees immediately the calculating gleam in his eyes, the sparkle of mischievousness and hyper-intelligence, the hints of the whirlwind of scheming thought that reveals that Caffrey is anything but aloof and disinterested, and, for the first time, Wilkes understands why people say that the dark haired conman is a dangerous person to write-off.
Yes, Caffrey lives up to his reputation.
Which is probably why Wilkes is not expecting it when the first signs of hesitation arise. From all Wilkes has heard, Caffrey has never been one to back down from a challenge. His "play the game like you have nothing to lose" mentality was the first thing that attracted Wilkes to Caffrey, and much of the reason why their partnership has progressed so easily. So when the blue-eyed conman falters during the first full briefing, Wilkes is caught off-guard and reacts a bit more strongly than he perhaps should have.
"We're breaking in midday?" Caffrey questions, and there is reproach in his tone.
"You think there is a better time?" Wilkes challenges. He doesn't like to be doubted in front of his crew. "Security isn't as tight in the middle of the day."
"Because the building is teeming with people," Caffrey agrees. "But that also means that there's no way we'll be able to make the grab without somebody noticing. If we go in the night before, we'll have to circumvent the alarms, but the chance that we would be seen becomes miniscule."
It is logical. Clean. Elegant. A classic Caffrey con. But Wilkes has never been known for pulling jobs quietly. He likes people to know that a crime was his, likes to be able to take the credit.
So he shrugs, "That's true. If I cared about being seen."
Caffrey blinks. He is incredulous, "What's the escape strategy, then? You don't think they are going to let us just walk out with millions of dollars worth of jewels, do you?"
"I don't expect to come up against much resistance," Wilkes smiles chillingly, glancing over to his gun cabinet. "I am hoping that any witnesses will be… subdued."
"You want to use guns." The words are flat.
Wilkes observes Caffrey closely. The conman's expression is unreadable, his eyes guarded. "I heard you weren't much of a fan."
"I don't like guns," Caffrey says simply, but there is something powerful in the tone that makes Wilkes think that maybe, just maybe, he should not cross the conman over this.
Wilkes ignores the impulse. "Learn to," he says coldly.
Caffrey's jaw clenches. He stands up. "I don't think this partnership is going to work, Wilkes. Irreconcilable differences. I'm out."
"I can't let you do that, Caffrey," Wilkes sighs, signaling one of his men. There is the click of a gun, and Caffrey turns around, slowly, to face the muzzle, hands in the air.
"Going to shoot me, Wilkes?"
"I don't want to. But you have to understand, you know too much."
Caffrey is silent for a moment. His blue eyes are fixed on the gun, and Wilkes can see he is weighing his options. Finally, "One job. I get those gems, and then we're done. We leave each other alone."
Wilkes considers the offer. "You'll help willingly?"
"You're not giving me much of a choice, are you?"
He disregards the sarcasm, "I need to know that you're not going to drag your feet, Caffrey. A reluctant member threatens the entire operation."
Caffrey affects outrage. "Are you questioning my professional integrity? I'll get the job done."
Wilkes doesn't doubt that Caffrey will come through. Despite everything, the dark-haired charmer has an image to uphold, and he won't risk getting caught over a minor disagreement over operation styles.
Over the next few days, Caffrey's work only serves to prove this point. Wilkes has Caffrey collecting intel on every aspect of the trunk show, from the sellers to the buyers to the details of the show itself. The details Caffrey is coming back with are superb and thorough.
"The host of the show is Randy Moroscoe. Works the gray side of the gem business—"
"—so he sells the story behind the jewels. I know what it means," Wilkes finishes edgily.
"I've used one of my aliases to integrate myself with Randy. George is an established gem dealer, and once Randy found out I was interested in doing business, he was very enthusiastic about involving me. I've been introduced to all the significant buyers, and Randy has promised to give me a preview of the jewels he is putting on display."
"Well done," Wilkes says carelessly. A beat, then, "I want to meet him."
Wilkes thinks he sees a flash of triumph in Caffrey's eyes, but it is gone before he can be sure it was there. "You want to meet Randy? What, you don't trust me?"
"Not even a little, Caffrey."
"They said you were intelligent," there is mocking respect in Caffrey's tone. "But that still doesn't make it a good idea."
"Why not?"
"How do you plan to pull it off? The show's in three days. He's only meeting potential buyers right now—"
"Then make me a buyer."
Caffrey is shaking his head. "It's not that easy, Wilkes. To get in this late, he's going to need some sort of assurance that you're serious about buying—"
"What if I gave him an account? A prepayment in good faith, if you will."
"It'll have to be significant."
Wilkes considers his funds. "Would half a million do it?"
Caffrey pauses. "It might."
"Make the identity," Wilkes orders. "And come up with something for Samson and Travers, too. We'll use the buyer as our in to the show."
"You want to use the buyer to get in," Caffrey repeats skeptically. "And I suppose that makes Samson and Travers your bodyguards? Or your assistants?"
The criminal grins. "Sure. A rich buyer like myself could use one of each. Do it." Wilkes strolls out, leaving a disgruntled Caffrey is his wake. He doesn't look back, though. He has an account to set up, after all.
They meet the next day at a coffee shop around the block from Moroscoe's shop. Caffrey is sporting a pair of glasses and has traded his typical rat-pack look for something a little more subdued. He looks every inch a potential gem trader.
"Is the account ready?"
"Just needs a name," Wilkes replies. "The IDs?"
The forger slides a manila envelope across the table.
"They're all in here."
Wilkes opens the thick envelope and gives the IDs a cursory scan. They look legitimate. Not that Caffrey's work could appear as anything less.
"What's the plan?" Wilkes asks after finishing his examination.
"I have my preview with Randy now. Wait half an hour, and then come in. Make sure Travers comes with you."
"Travers?"
"Your bodyguard," Caffrey explains patiently. "Ryan Walters wouldn't make a trip like this without him."
Wilkes nods. Caffrey throws a five on the table to pay for his drink. "Half an hour," he repeats. "And, remember, we don't know each other."
Wilkes rolls his eyes at the reminder, and then Caffrey is gone. He passes the half an hour fixing the account information to match the alias Caffrey has created. Then, he and Travers are walking into Moroscoe's shop.
Caffrey and Moroscoe must have just been finishing, because they are shaking hands, and an assistant is bringing Caffrey his coat.
"It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Donnelly."
"Likewise," Caffrey smiles, and it is everything genuine and pleasurable. For not the first time, Wilkes is impressed by how easily Caffrey is able to wear other identities. "I wish it didn't have to be cut short, but—"
"Don't mention it. The family has to come first!" Moroscoe says sympathetically. "Give my best to Nancy, and I hope dear Dylan gets over his cold soon."
"Thank you for your kind wishes." Caffrey shrugs his coat on and turns so as to bump into Wilkes. "Oh, excuse me. I didn't see you!"
Caffrey's apology and surprise are so authentic that even Wilkes almost believes that they have never met. "Not a problem, Mr.–"
"George Donnelly," Caffrey introduces, sticking out a hand. "Are you here for the show?"
"I am looking to buy, yes."
"Then you're in good hands. I am sure your visit will be as profitable as mine," Caffrey says congenially, lightly clasping Moroscoe on the shoulder. "I'm sorry to leave like this, but I'm in a rush. I'll be in touch with the paperwork, Randy."
In this one exchange, Wilkes can understand why Caffrey is so good at what he does. In every interaction the conman shares with the mark, there is a sense of trust and sincerity conveyed. Caffrey makes his targets believe that, for the time they are together, they are his sole focus, the most important things in his life.
Moroscoe steps forward to show his customer out, "I look forward to it, Mr. Donnelly."
With that, Caffrey was gone. Randy watches him leave, a look of fondness on his face. "Good man. Wish there were more like him in our business," he announces, and then turns to Wilkes. "Are you a family man, Mr. Walters?"
"Unfortunately not," Wilkes says truthfully.
"A shame. It's always much easier to get to know a client if he as a family to talk about." Apparently Caffrey had pulled out all the stops for the alias he was using. Then Moroscoe is pointing to a chair across from him, "Please, take a seat! Should I get one for your guard—"
"Michael prefers to stand," Wilkes says firmly, and the meeting is underway.
It goes well. Moroscoe completely buys the alias Caffrey has set up, and Wilkes is holding an invitation to the trunk show when he exits the shop. Caffrey is leaning against Wilkes's car, waiting.
"We're in," Wilkes declares, and Caffrey smiles, a puckish glint dancing in those blue eyes.
"This is going to be fun."
Wilkes agrees.
The day before the job is spent finalizing the last minute details and running through the plan until each second of the schedule is ingrained in their minds. By late evening, Wilkes is confident that his crew could pull it off in their sleep, and decides it's time for a break.
"We've done well, boys. Let's go for dinner and drinks. My treat!"
Samson and Travers are on their feet immediately, but Caffrey politely refuses, claiming, "I have some last minute things to finish."
"What things?" Wilkes can't help but be suspicious.
"Paperwork. Randy needs some of George's financial documents, and he wants them before the show starts." Caffrey's blue eyes are wide, a smile of such pure innocence adorning his face that Wilkes is convinced. Even Caffrey couldn't fake such guiltlessness.
"You'll be missing out," Samson attempts. "The boss knows this great underground club in Chelsea."
The Caffrey wit returns, "Take some pictures for me."
"You're sure," Samson checks. "Can we bring anything back for you?"
"Just get a picture," Caffrey insists. "I'll pretend I was there."
Huh. He had never pegged Caffrey has the sentimental type. Everyone had a secret side, though, Wilkes supposes, and shrugs it off.
Caffrey is waiting for them the next morning. He has four plates of eggs and bacon ready, although Wilkes goes straight for the coffee. He might not have gone as hard as usual the night before, but there had been more than a few drinks and the criminal was nursing a small headache.
"You boys had a fun night?"
Wilkes wonders if Caffrey is being purposefully chipper. He certainly hasn't been a morning person before.
"Look for yourself," Travers says, tossing the dark-haired conman a camera. Caffrey flips through the pictures appreciatively.
"I'm sorry I missed it," he grins, pocketing the camera.
The banter continues through breakfast. There is nothing like that prospect of running a con to pull spirits up. When they finish, Caffrey makes to depart.
"Leaving?"
"Have to get the paperwork to Randy," Caffrey waves a file of papers. "We were planning on arriving separately anyway."
"All right. Show time's at one," Wilkes confirmed. "Don't be late."
Caffrey tips his fedora, "Don't worry. I'll be exactly where I need to be."
The drive over to the show location has Wilkes feeling off. There is an itch at the back of his mind, an uncertainty and anxiousness that Wilkes can't shrug off. Travers parks the car, and the moment Wilkes steps out of the car the feeling intensifies. When he enters the show hall, Wilkes wishes he had listened to his instincts.
Because upon seeing him, Moroscoe had shouted, "That's him," and suddenly the three of them are surrounded by the police. Caffrey, of course, is nowhere to be seen.
"This is a mistake," Wilkes protests, putting his hands in the air. He senses Travers and Samson do the same behind him. "I haven't done anything."
"Ryan Walters you are under arrest," an officer pronounces as he snaps on a set of handcuffs. "You have the right to remain silent…"
Wilkes tunes out the rest. Like all good criminals, he knows the spiel. And, like all good criminals, he will wait until the official interrogation before spouting out a story. It is better to know what they are charging you with, after all, before you try and refute anything.
"You're being charged with jewelry theft, Mr. Walters," the officer across from him is saying. "Last night Randy Moroscoe's entire safe was emptied of its contents."
"I didn't do it," Wilkes responds instantly. "I'm being framed."
"Oh, and I suppose the fact that it happened the day after I showed you my offices and the jewel contents is a complete coincidence," Randy says loudly. The agent quells the angry gem seller with a look.
"He's right, it doesn't look good for you," The officer says patiently. Wilkes supposes they are trying out the good-cop act first. "You said someone was trying to set you up?"
"George Donnelly," Wilkes answers promptly.
Randy snorts, and the officer turns to him. "You know this man?"
"He's a customer," Moroscoe defends. "And an honest man. He couldn't have stolen my gems, he left town two days ago."
Wilkes is startled. Left town?
The officer notices his surprise, because he is following up, "Do you have proof of that?"
"He had to rush through a business dealing because his son was sick and his wife had an important case she needed to work on. Booked the flight to Boston from the computer in my office. I can get the bookings for you if you want. I also have some of his financial records that he faxed over this morning; he bought a beautiful sapphire pendant for his wife before he left and some of the paperwork from the sale was left unfinished."
"Bought?" Wilkes echoes.
"That's right."
Wilkes is shaking his head, still trying to process the information, and, in spite of everything, a little impressed. Not only has Caffrey established a comprehensive set up, but the man has somehow managed to inspire loyalty from a mark after barely a week of interaction. "It's not true. He's a con. His real name isn't even George, it's—"
A second officer stuck his head through the door, summoning the first, and interrupting Wilkes's testimony. When the officer returned he was holding a key that was swiftly used to unlock Wilkes's cuffs.
"What are you doing?" Moroscoe demands, moving forward. "You're letting him go?"
"New evidence just came in," the interrogator explains regretfully. "A camera with time-stamped pictures showing Mr. Walters and his associates spending the night at a club in midtown was anonymously brought in. The bartender confirms the alibi."
"But it has to be him!" The tall gem seller insists. "The timing is too perfect, and the bank account he gave me is completely empty."
Wilkes, who had been on his way out, spins around. "The bank account is empty," he repeats stupidly.
"I checked it this morning when I noticed the gems were gone," Moroscoe says coolly. "This isn't over, Walters."
"That's enough," the policeman interrupts. "Mr. Walters, you are free to go. I strongly recommend that you do so."
There is no argument from Wilkes. The criminal is completely overcome with fury, and all he can think of is how slowly and painfully he is going to kill Caffrey when he gets his hands on the blue-eyed traitor.
In the end, Caffrey is not difficult to find. The conman hasn't even been trying to hide from Wilkes, a fact that bothers the syndicate leader more than a little. Caffrey has stolen half a million from him; he should be quaking in his shoes. After all, Wilkes has been to known to kill someone for less. Instead, when the dark-haired forger is brought in, he looks unruffled. Even a little amused.
"Afternoon, Wilkes," he greets, as if they are meeting at a bar and Caffrey is not chained tightly to a chair. "There really isn't a need for all the dramatics. If you wanted a meet, you should have just asked."
Wilkes ignores him, spitting, "Don't think your silver tongue is going to work on me, Caffrey."
Caffrey manages to look affronted. "I wouldn't dream of it."
His smugness is getting to Wilkes, and he can't help himself from driving a fist into Caffrey's gut. There is a moan, and a momentary expression of pain that Wilkes relishes before Caffrey is able to school his expression back into one of haughty entertainment.
"You scammed me," Wilkes accuses hotly. "The entire buyer play, it was a set-up."
"You're the one who suggested a meeting with Randy, Wilkes—"
"—Because you made me!" Wilkes exclaims. "You got me to convince you it was a good idea, you slippery bastard."
Caffrey's lips twitch, and Wilkes can tell that the con artist is pleased with himself.
"We had a deal, Caffrey. You didn't fulfill your end—"
"But I did," Caffrey interjects innocently. "You're the one who's not holding your side."
"You told me that we'd get the gems—"
"I told you," Caffrey corrects tolerantly, "I would get the gems, and then we would be done." He is wearing a self-satisfied grin, now. "Well, Wilkes, I have the gems. Now it's on you to leave me alone."
Wilkes pauses, stupefied. "You said—"
"Name one time I lied to you, and I'll give you the entire take."
Wilkes considers, and, as much as he hates to admit it, he can't come up with an occasion. Because Caffrey may have let Wilkes come to false conclusions, may have withheld certain information, but there was never an outright falsehood uttered.
The syndicate leader blinks. "Doesn't matter," he says finally. "You got me arrested—"
"Under a fake name. The police have nothing on you. And I got you out. You don't think that the camera just magically appeared, do you?" Caffrey is impatient. "I might be a thief, Wilkes, but don't accuse me of being a dishonest one."
"Shut up!" Wilkes thunders. Caffrey persuasive tongue is at work, and Wilkes doesn't like the confusion it is causing. "Not another word. You stole five hundred thousand dollars from me. That isn't something I can overlook."
He removes his gun from its holster. At last, Caffrey is looking wary and uncertain.
"Come on, man, I told you I didn't like guns," he says, his eyes fixed on the barrel.
"Well," Wilkes cocks the weapon, "you won't have to worry about that for much longer. What do you think… should I start with your hands?"
"I'd rather you didn't," Caffrey's response is immediate. "They're fairly important in my line of work."
Wilkes smiles in spite of his anger. "I'm going to miss that wit of yours, Caffrey. I just wish you had been more reasonable… we really could have been something."
"Thunder and lightning, I know." The tone is cheeky. "Like I said before, though, our styles just aren't compatible. See, I prefer brain to brawn."
The criminal's expression grows cold. He raises the gun so it is pointing at Caffrey's forehead. "Any last words?"
Caffrey ponders for a moment. "Did you know I've never met a lock I couldn't pick?"
Wilkes is startled by the choice of words, and that moment of surprise is all it takes for Caffrey to leap from the chair, the chains that were supposed to be binding him falling uselessly to the floor. He is across the room in seconds, and by the time Wilkes gets a shot off, Caffrey is swinging off the balcony banister onto the one below. Wilkes all but sprints to the balcony in pursuit, but the conman has vanished.
And as livid as Wilkes is, he can't help but admire Caffrey's guts and brazenness. Because the conman has completely and utterly outplayed him, and even Wilkes is not such an ungracious loser to not be a little impressed. He underestimated his opponent. He hadn't expected Caffrey to go such lengths to avoid hurting strangers, hadn't thought that Caffrey's softhearted morals were so strong.
Wilkes won't make that mistake again.
Fin
Author's Note:
This story was the result of watching the episode "Front Man" in which Neal is kidnapped by a former associate of his, Ryan Wilkes. During the episode several references were made to a past betrayal of Neal's which involved our favorite conman gathering intel for Wilkes and then stealing $500,000 after he learned that the job they were going to pull involved hurting people with guns. The end result of the interaction was that Wilkes tried to kill Neal (or as Mozzie so aptly put it, "wanted to dismember" Neal). The repeated references to Wilkes and Neal's past inspired me to fill in the gaps, which I hope this story has done a good job of.
I decided to incorporate Randy Moroscoe, the gem seller from "What Happens in Burma," because he seemed to fit into the overall plot. It didn't hurt that I also wanted to dig into Neal's use of the George Donnelly alias, and this seemed as good a time as any for George and Randy to have first met each other. Hopefully, you find the scenario realistic.
I have always been more interested in pre-series moments of the characters. We know where the characters are now, but it is always fun to try and imagine how they got there. So, for the foreseeable future, my dabbles into the white collar world will be investigating the character's pasts. I will leave their presents and futures to Jeff Eastin and his talented writing crew. With that said, this chapter will probably be the first in series of one-shots relating cons and scams pulled by Neal. Next up will most likely be a chapter detailing Neal's partnership with Keller.
I hope you found my interpretation enjoyable. Regardless, please review. Constructive criticism and comments are always appreciated.
Cheers,
The Third Marauder