Chapter 2: New Colleagues

Burke residence. September 18, 2004. Saturday evening.

Peter stretched his arms in satisfaction. What unbelievable baseball—six extra innings before it was decided. From his sprawled position on the couch, he looked over at El's photograph and smiled. She picked a good weekend to be away. She'd have given up on him hours ago.

He was startled to hear the buzzing of his cell phone. Ten o'clock. Probably El. Glancing at the display, he was surprised to see it was Neal instead.

"Hey, Neal, what's up? Calling about the game? Don't tell me you watched it. Maybe there's hope yet . . . Neal, you there?"

"Peter . . . I . . . sorry, forgot about the game. It still on?"

"No, it just ended." Peter sat up, game forgotten. Something wasn't right. "What's going on? You all right?"

"Yeah. It's just . . . something came up, and we need to talk. It's important or I wouldn't bother you. Can I come over?"

Peter didn't like the way Neal sounded on the phone. Whatever this "something" was, it was unsettling. "How about I come to your place? It's easier for me to drive over than you finding a cab at this hour."

"Sure, good idea. June's out. Security's off so use your key and come on up."

"All right, hang tight. Not much traffic this hour. I'll be there shortly."

"Thanks."

As Peter drove, he replayed the phone conversation in his mind, uneasy by the hesitation in Neal's voice. What the hell was going on? Everything had been fine on Friday. He had a class at the Met this afternoon. Had something happened there? Didn't seem likely. Damn it, he knew he'd turned off that radar too soon.

Peter pulled up at the Ellington mansion and went inside. There were only a few lights on downstairs. Upstairs, he found Neal's door ajar and entered after a quick knock, not waiting for an answer.

Neal was standing facing the terrace doors when he walked in. Peter noted the glass of wine and half-empty bottle on the table.

Turning around, Neal smiled a greeting and waved him to a chair. "Thanks for coming. Can I get you a beer?"

"Sure." Nodding over to the wine bottle, Peter added, "Guess I need to catch up."

"Got that taken care of. Plenty more being chilled." Handing him the beer, Neal sat down across from him and refilled his wine glass. Despite the lightness of his words, he looked worried, which was making Peter even more on edge.

Neal didn't seem particularly eager to talk. Peter felt like saying, So I'm here. What gives? but his gut was telling him to go slow. Looking around the loft, he said, "That the Vermeer you did your presentation on?"

Nodding, Neal said, "You could say she's the reason I called." He cleared his throat and added, "Something happened at the Met today. When I gave my talk, there was quite a crowd of visitors and some came over to listen to me. I recognized one of them . . . Have you heard of someone called the Leopard?"

"The art thief? Of course. He's been linked to some of the most spectacular art thefts in Europe. But virtually nothing is known about him, not even his name. I've read reports about some of his suspected robberies, but that's about it." Peter sat back in his chair and studied Neal who was looking at him uneasily. The Leopard has been on Interpol's most wanted list for as long as Peter could remember. "You said you recognized the Leopard. You know who he is?"

"His name is Klaus Mansfeld. He's German, headquartered in Geneva."

"And how do you know that?"

"I met him in Europe," Neal admitted and added after a pause, "Did some jobs for him."

Peter exhaled deeply and took a swig of his beer. "So you saw Klaus Mansfeld, the Leopard, at the Met?"

"But that's not all. When I finished my talk and went back to my seat, I found a message from him asking for a meeting. I only had a few minutes to get there. I didn't have time to contact you before, but I want you to know what went on." Putting down his wine glass and squaring his shoulders, Neal looked directly at Peter. "So, here it is. Klaus had me meet him at La Palette. It's a bistro on East 79th."

"Yeah, I'm familiar with it. Go on."

"Klaus told me he has a commission to steal a painting, specifically The Woman in Blue—the one that's on that easel."

Peter couldn't resist giving a low whistle. "The Leopard told you that?"

Neal nodded. "Klaus was casing the museum this afternoon. He said he couldn't believe it when he heard me lecturing on the same painting. Supposedly, he'd lined up someone else to make a forgery but when he saw me, he decided to offer me the job instead."

Peter put down his beer as he considered Neal's revelation. "What did you tell him?"

"That I'd think it over. He gave me until 10 a.m. tomorrow to let him know."

Peter went over his options. Throttling Neal for not telling him about the Leopard earlier was the first thing that came to mind. Berating him for not calling him before going to the meeting was surely not an overreaction. But glancing over at Neal sitting nervously across from him, he decided to save those very worthy actions for another time. "What do you want to do?"

"I haven't stopped thinking about this since he made the offer. If you want to catch him, the only way is for me to agree to work with him."

"Now hold on," Peter protested. "We know his name now. You're telling me we can't stop him unless you work for him?"

Neal shrugged. "There's a good reason why nothing's known about him. Klaus is brilliant. He doesn't make mistakes. He's not going to reveal what he's lined up unless I'm in on it. I don't think it's possible for you to stop him without having someone on the inside."

"Do you have any details of what he's planning?"

"No."

"Do you know where he's staying? Anything?"

"Nope, all I have for Klaus is a contact number. Probably a burner phone."

Peter couldn't help noticing how Neal kept referring to Mansfeld as Klaus. "Just how well do you know this guy?"

"I worked with him off and on for a couple of years beginning in 2001," Neal acknowledged. "During that time I became quite familiar with how he operates. I doubt his methods have changed much since then."

"Two years? And you didn't mention anything about him in the confession you gave?"

"I confessed to thefts I'd made while working with him and led you to the people who had bought them," Neal pointed out immediately. Peter suspected he'd already been bracing himself to be slammed over his omission. "I . . . just didn't mention his involvement."

Not very reassuring. Peter knew he hadn't confessed to everything, but why had he failed to mention someone as important as the Leopard? "Neal, I'm trying to understand, but you're going to have to give me more to work with. You hid your knowledge of the Leopard but now say you want to bring him down. What's going on?"

Neal huffed in frustration. "Isn't what I'm offering enough? An opportunity to bring down one of Interpol's most wanted fugitives?"

Peter shook his head. "No, not till I understand why you're so on edge about it. I'm not going to risk putting you in a situation where you might self-destruct."

Neal got up from the table and walked back to the terrace doors. Not answering, he looked out at the city lights. Peter waited patiently. He knew Neal—give him time, give him space and he'd eventually open up.

After a minute, Neal turned around and said, "You need to understand. Klaus isn't a Keller or an Adler, he's not evil. If you met him, you'd like him. He's a friend, Peter. He always treated me decently. I didn't mention him in my confession, because, frankly, no one asked. And then, he was in Europe, I was here in the States. He was out of the FBI's jurisdiction and I didn't figure our paths would cross again." He shrugged. "That's no longer the case."

"And you've been trying to figure out how to resolve this," Peter said. No wonder Neal was freaking out.

"Right. Klaus told me he wants to expand his operations and move here permanently. And I know what that means. We're going to collide all the time. I can't avoid this any longer. Unless we're able to stop him, this won't end, and this may be our only chance." Neal hesitated before adding, "It took me a while to call you because I wanted to be sure I could do it first. I didn't want to make the offer, unless I was confident I could make it work." He exhaled and sat back down.

"Now here's the main problem from my perspective," said Peter. "You're too close to this for me to send you in. Much as I would jump at the chance to take down the Leopard, I can't back you going undercover. We'll have to find another way."

Neal shook his head in exasperation. "There is no other way. I've been going over this from every angle I can think of, and the only way you're going to be able to catch him is if I work for him. Peter, I know I can make it work. It's what I do."

"All right, calm down. Suppose for a moment, I do agree and you accept the offer. How do you think it'll play out?"

"Once I make the call, Klaus and I will meet somewhere. He'll have set up a safe house. He'll want me to stay there while I work on the forgery."

"Oh, this just gets better and better. How will we communicate with you? Two-way receiver?"

He shook his head. "That won't work. Klaus's motto is trust but verify. He makes heavy use of the latest technology and adds a layer of security that's near impossible to break. He'll have monitoring equipment in place to detect any wireless signals. He'll have me hand over my phone, watch, and any other electronic gear." Neal stood up and started pacing. "But there is a way. I think I can convince him to let me go to my classes. He may have someone follow me, but someone on the team could pose as a member of the class and I could get a message to them."

"Are you sure Klaus trusts you? From what you say, it doesn't sound like he does."

Neal shrugged dismissively. "That's his standard operating procedure. He treats his inner circle and his extras the same way. He doesn't like to leave anything open to chance. That's one of the reasons he's never been caught, and the agencies don't even know his name."

"In that case, what makes you think he'd let you run off to Columbia for classes?"

Looking a little embarrassed, Neal said, "That was a standard joke when we worked together. Klaus used to give me no end of grief because I'd left school. He'd flaunt all his diplomas and rag me for only having fake ones. I could use that now. I expect that he'd have me followed, but he won't stop me."

Peter shook his head. "I'm still not convinced. Give me some time to think this through."

"Want another beer?"

"No, we both better switch to coffee. Why don't you get busy and make some and let me chew on this a while."

Neal nodded and prepared the coffee, leaving Peter alone to his thoughts. Funny—the tension that had been written all over Neal's face had been erased. He now seemed relaxed and at ease. Probably because he'd already made his decision and laid it out on the table. Now it was Peter's turn, and he could guarantee his tension wasn't going to ramp down anytime soon. Going through the options, he played out different scenarios in his mind. There wasn't a lot to work with but it was enough.

After handing Peter a mug of coffee, Neal went out to sit on the terrace. Peter studied him thoughtfully. It was gratifying that Neal had divulged as much as he had. He must have been concerned about how Peter would react. But the big question now was would he be capable of taking down a person he considered his friend? Not a situation Peter ever would have wanted Neal to have to face. But he had to admit it, the kid was right. All they had now was a name. Without more knowledge of what the Leopard was planning, their chances of catching him were miniscule.

Several minutes later, Peter joined Neal on the terrace. "All right, for the record I still don't like this, but I do have to agree, you're our best and probably only shot at getting him. C'mon inside. We've got work to do."

Over the next couple of hours, Peter grilled Neal on every detail he could remember of how Mansfeld operated as they strategized likely scenarios. By 1 a.m. they had gone as far as they could. Neal would call Klaus and agree to do the job but try to hold off meeting with him till the afternoon. That would give Peter time to gather his team and put their plans into place.

Neal said, "One last thing I should mention. Mozzie's not in New York right now and… I'm glad. Just in case he comes back and contacts you, don't tell him anything about it."

"Does Mozzie know Mansfeld?"

"Not well, but yes. And Peter, he . . . wouldn't understand. If he's worried about me, tell him brioche. It's our code that I'm okay. "

Peter smiled and nodded. "Figures. Don't worry. I'll keep him out of it." He added, "But, seriously, you're positive you can go through with this? Last chance, Neal. Once it's started, there's no going back."

Neal glanced at the painting and then back to Peter. "I am. This is what I signed up for after all—take down the stormtroopers, right, Han?"

Stormtroopers, huh? Well, he could play along. "You got it, Luke. And I'll be right there with you."

On the drive home, Peter reflected on what Neal had told him. Good thing he was so familiar with the route, he could drive the car on auto-pilot. This wasn't a skeleton Neal was hiding in the closet, it was a fully grown Tyrannosaurus Rex. And he'd just signed off on letting Neal go hang out in the closet with it.

Still, the chance to capture the Leopard—what an incredible opportunity. Merely putting the actual name to the thief was a victory. If they could somehow pull it off, the future of the White Collar task force would be secure. And it should lay to rest the whispers that persisted about bringing in a criminal to work there. Peter still overheard the occasional comments, not from his own agents fortunately, but in other units there was lingering distrust. And after a White Collar agent had been found guilty of working with Adler, there were some who blamed Neal. Despite his misgivings, he couldn't let this opportunity slip by. But he was also going to do everything he could to help Neal get through it.

Neal calling him Han—now that was out of left field. What on earth made him bring up Star Wars? But this wasn't the first time he'd seen Neal deflect tension by making a game out of it. Tuesday Tails, hadn't that originally started as a serious attempt to keep Neal under surveillance because the team was suspicious of him? Now it was part game/part training session. If channeling a movie helped Neal handle the stress of going after Mansfeld, he wasn't going to stand in the way.

White Collar Division. September 19, 2004. Sunday morning.

Peter arrived at the office early that Sunday morning to research the Leopard and Klaus Mansfeld. He also called in Tricia, Jones, and Diana. By 9 a.m. they had joined him in the conference room, and he briefed them on the events of the previous evening.

"Whoa. I'd heard of the Leopard at Quantico," Diana said, shaking her head in disbelief. "Never thought I'd have the chance to help apprehend him."

"Ditto that," said Jones. "He's a legend. It's like going after the Joker."

"All right, save your rhapsodizing for later," Peter said, holding up his hand. "Right now he is just another stormtrooper to be caught." Tricia exchanged puzzled looks with Diana and Jones. "You heard me right," Peter added. "We're calling this Operation Stormtrooper, so get used to it."

This is the face of the Leopard." Peter projected a photograph on the display screen. "Klaus Mansfeld. Thirty-five years old. German nationality. His family runs one of the largest investment firms in Germany. Their clients are primarily corporations with some wealthy individuals. Needless to say, the family itself is immensely wealthy. Mansfeld works as an investment advisor for the firm. His wife of seven years filed for divorce last year. No children."

"It's an excellent cover for his extracurricular activities," Tricia commented. "I wonder how many of his clients also have bought items he's stolen."

Peter nodded. "We should look into it." His cell phone vibrated. It was Neal.

"It's on. I put off the meeting as long as I could. I'm to be at La Palette at one o'clock."

"That'll give us plenty of time. Were you able to get any details?"

"A few. It's as we discussed. I'm bringing a bag to La Palette and will be working out of his place. Don't know the location yet. The job is planned for next Saturday. The forgery must be finished by Friday. I talked to him about Columbia and he's agreed to let me go to classes."

"Good—this gives us something to work with. I'll contact Sherkov and make the arrangements. Next contact will be Monday evening. And Neal . . . be careful."

"Aren't I always?"

Turning back to the others, Peter said, "Show time's at 1 p. La Palette, a bistro on East 79th. Here's what I propose . . . . "

Manhattan Upper East Side. September 19, 2004. Sunday noon.

By twelve o'clock Peter, Tricia and Diana were already in position, sitting in separate unmarked cars which were parked across the street from La Palette. Tricia and Peter were pointed in opposite directions on East 79th and Diana was on Third Avenue. Peter didn't think the odds were high any of them would be able to follow Neal and Mansfeld when they left, but it was worth an attempt. Jones had drawn the plum assignment. He'd gone into the bistro and was settling down to brunch and The New York Times.

At 12:45 a black Mercedes SUV pulled up to the bistro and Klaus Mansfeld got out. No problem recognizing him, but the photos hadn't captured his easy self-confidence and air of authority. This man is dangerous, Peter thought to himself. After a brief scan up and down the street, Mansfeld sauntered into the bistro.

Fifteen minutes later Neal arrived by taxi. He removed his bag from the trunk and disappeared inside. Peter's frustration began to escalate. This was not the way he liked to conduct an op. With no earpiece and no receiver, he was flying blind. "Jones, Caffrey just entered the bistro. What are you seeing?"

"He's joined Mansfeld at a table not far from mine," Jones muttered in a low undertone, "but unfortunately they're speaking German, so I'm not going to be much help. Wait, Mansfeld just pulled out an electronic device. Looks like a wireless detection finder. He set it down on the table. Checking to see if Caffrey's transmitting any signals, I bet. Caffrey appears to be teasing him about it. He was right. This guy doesn't take any chances. Too much background noise to record anything from where I'm sitting. Don't think I could get close enough to record their voices without raising suspicion… A waiter's bringing over two espressos."

A few minutes later, Jones reported, "Someone just walked up. About 50, short gray hair, medium height and build. He's wearing an apron. Maybe the chef or the owner? Apparently knows Caffrey who's introducing him to Mansfeld. Crap, they're speaking French now. What is this, the U.N.? Mansfeld and Caffrey got up and walked over with the other guy to the east wall. Stopped by some paintings. Must be discussing them."

At 1:30 Jones gave the heads-up. "Get ready, they're moving out."

Neal and Mansfeld left the bistro a few minutes later, with Mansfeld carrying Neal's bag. The two were engaged in animated conversation, both appearing relaxed and friendly. The same black Mercedes rolled up and they sped off. Diana was in the best position to track them. Peter and the others waited in place for her signal.

Several minutes later she called in. "Sorry, Boss, I lost them in traffic on FDR Drive."

"It was a long shot, don't worry about it," said Peter. At least they had the license number.

Back at the office, Tricia ran the plates. As suspected, it was for a rental car. The customer had used a New York driver's license, which turned out to be a fake. A dead end—not surprising, but they had to try.

Peter sent the team home to salvage what was left of their Sunday, and he headed back to Brooklyn. El was coming home later in the day, and he hadn't had a chance to clean up from the baseball marathon of the previous day. Giving a yawn, he realized how tired he was. Better catch up on some sleep himself. Monday he'd need to be on point. Neal was in the Leopard's lair now.


Notes: Thanks for reading and for your comments! In next week's chapter, we'll get a glimpse of life inside the Leopard's lair. Special thanks to Penna Nomen for her help with this chapter.

Blog: Penna Nomen & Silbrith Conversation
Chapter Visuals: The Woman in Blue board at the Caffrey Conversation Pinterest website