A Game of Cat and Mouse
(A/N: Edited and revamped on 18/05/13)
Previously on A Game of Cat and Mouse:
"What?" Blaine asked.
"Nothing don't worry about it." Hummel replied through his laughter.
"No seriously Hummel. What?"
Hummel walked away and just left Blaine standing there in confusion as Hummel's chuckles reverberated down the corridor.
"I wonder what that was all about." Blaine mused.
Chapter 4: Discretion
"Mr Hummel, why were you in the jewellery store by Central Park last night?"
It was another work day in the New York Police Department and Kurt had been at the station bright and early at nine o'clock in the morning, only to discover Anderson had been there since six.
The constant battle of who could one up who had begun.
Kurt looked at Detective Anderson and sent him a look of pure, innocent confusion, trying not to grin.
"Buying a watch Detective." Kurt's voice implied the 'what else' that he didn't add at the end of the sentence.
"I have the receipt if you want to look at it."
"I think that would be for the best," Anderson said and Kurt pulled out his black leather wallet, which he kept in the lining of his suit, to make it that much harder to steal.
He pulled out the receipt with two fingers instinctively, the grip used when picking a pocket, and handed it to Anderson with no amount of flourish. Anderson looked at it, no doubt checking it wasn't forged, and then handed it back to Kurt.
His reply was sheepish.
"Sorry Hummel. It's just I pulled up your tracker yesterday as a routine search and I was concerned when the robbery was announced."
Kurt's eyes dimmed a little at the mention of the tracker.
That thing was going to be a problem. He could call in favours but not indefinitely or he'd have no favours left. The tracker looked like a thick, ugly metal bangle and could be passed of as such easily but it was tight.
It sat on his wrist uncomfortably and it was tight enough that the only way he'd be able to slip it off would be by greasing his hand up with enough butter to fry a pig in and then slipping it over a dislocated thumb.
He'd do it if there was an important enough reason but Kurt hoped to avoid the pain and
inconvenience doing so would provide if he could.
"I Just went there to get a watch Detective Anderson. Sorry it's not more exciting." Kurt's eyes bore into the detective's and Anderson seemed to grow uncomfortable. Clearing his throat Anderson looked away and said,
"Alright that's all Mr Hummel. You can go for your lunch now."
Kurt smirked. He'd come out the victor of that fight. The main battle continued.
"Thanks Cupcake," and with that Kurt left, leaving Anderson staring.
Kurt could have sworn he heard Anderson splutter to himself and Kurt laughed as he made his way down to the stations cafeteria.
Of course, Kurt hadn't gone to the jewellery store to 'buy a watch'.
He had plenty of watches. Designer watches. He had stolen enough designer watches from business men and designers all over to world that he didn't need to buy a watch from a crummy New York Jewellers.
No, he had gone there for a different reason. (Although he did get a watch and he planned on giving the watch to his brother Finn as a birthday present).
What he had been doing was casing the shop. Checking out what the security was like and he had needed an alibi for when Anderson inadvertently checked his tracking history (which is where the watch came in.)
He had observed the security camera's blind spots and had identified the pressure plates and heat sensors used to protect the pink diamond that was there on display from Paris.
Seeing as he couldn't steal the diamond himself – he really needed to get rid of that tracker!- he'd passed the information on to his friend Santana, a famous Jewellery thief known as Satan (after the calling card embroidered with red devil horns that she always left behind).
Santana had done the actual stealing, but had done it per Kurt's instructions so that according to Anderson, Porcelain had done it. And in return she would get a cut of the profit when Kurt got around to selling the diamond.
Not that sheneededthat for motivation. Santana had always wanted to steal the Rose Diamond.
Kurt remembered when he asked her...
Two Days Ago:
"Porcelain," Santana had sounded surprised that he had called her, they didn't talk often.
Their job's took them to different countries, if they talked more the phone bills would be abysmal.
"Hey Satan," The sheepishness in his voice told Santana something was off and she was instantly on her guard.
"I doubt this is just a social call Kurt, what do you want?"
"You see, Santana, that's what I like about you. You're always so-"
"Bitchy?"
"I was going to say 'straight forward' but I guess yours will do just as well."
The laugh on the other end of the line made Kurt grin. He turned over onto his stomach, where he was laying on his bed in his apartment, wearing his NYDA dance shirt and track pants.
He stretched out fully, like a cat searching for the warm spot on the bed.
"I miss you Kurt, you don't call often." Santana admonished him.
"Well, I know that you're a busy woman. You're an international jewellery thief now. Your time is precious."Kurt said charmingly.
"Alright Hummel, enough sucking up." Kurt could hear the amusement in Santana's voice, "What do you want from me this time?"
"I have a bit of a problem-"
"Don't tell me Anderson actually caught you? If you're using your phone call on me Kurt, I'm honoured and all but I'm not gonna bust you out" Kurt snorted. Santana was so loving.
"He wishes he caught me," they laughed together. "No, nothing like that. Well, a little like that," Kurt admitted. "I did get arrested-"
"Kurt!-"
"But not for anything in our line of work!" Assured Kurt. "Don't worry Satan, I'm careful."
"Then what? Get to the point! Like you said, my time is precious,"
Kurt laughed, "God, Tana, you've not changed a bit have you?"
"Kurt..."
"Alright, alright! I was in jail." Kurt paused and then carried on bravely. "For two weeks-"
"Kur-"
"Only two weeks Tana!"
"What am I gonna do with you Hummel?" Kurt carried on like she hadn't said anything.
"But then Detective Anderson visited me-"
"Wanky!"
"No, not like that! Get your mind out of the gutter Miss Lopez!"
"But it's so much more fun there," Santana purred and Kurt could practically hear her smirk.
"Anyway,"Kurt rolled his eyes and he knew Santana could tell what he was doing when she laughed on the other end of the phone. "Anderson visited me, I helped out with some evidence, and - long story short - now I'm a consultant for the NYPD."
"Kurt! How the fuck-"
"I know, I know, I'll try to be a bit more careful." Kurt rushed, "But that's not what I need you for." Santana perked up, this is why Kurt had called her. "They've got me on a tracker so I can't be Porcelain for a while. Can you help me with a diamond job?"
"Not the-"
"Pink diamond? Of course. You know I'd never call you for anything less. You in?"
"You bet your ass I'm in." Kurt could hear Santana's excitement. "See you in a few days?"
"Sure, I'm doing recon tomorrow so get here to do the job tomorrow night."
"Okay. Are you still living with goody two shoes?"
"Who, Rachel? Yeah but-"
"Gah. Fine," Santana grumbled. "I can deal with her for the Rose."
"Thanks Satan. You get a cut of the final deal, okay? See you soon."
"Bye Porcelain."
Kurt and Santana Lopez had actually known each other in high school. They'd both been in the same school in Ohio, with Rachel and Kurt's brother Finn.
Santana and Kurt hadn't gotten on that well during school, apart from a shared sympathy as they were both of them gay in a homophobic high school environment, but afterwards they'd bonded over their chosen professions and love of New York winters.
Even when Santana worked all over the world, she always came back to New York for Christmas and that was when she and Kurt normally caught up with a drink and a heist.
Kurt passed on the recon information and then two hours later news of the theft was spreading all over the city, and in another hour the world.
Half an hour after Kurt had first seen the story on the news there'd been a knock on his and Rachel's door. Spinning from where he was dabbing at a forgery of a Dali piece he was working on for something he had planned for when this whole consultant fiasco was finished, Kurt placed his paint and brush down and then padded to the door.
Opening it he wasn't surprised to see Santana leaning against the wall opposite.
He opened the door further and let her brush past him, shutting the door and following her into the living room. She plopped down on to the sofa in all her glory, big chest and legs that went on for miles, both of which were enhanced and made to look bigger and longer by the black cat suit she wore when she worked.
She had knee high leather boots on and a utility built with her tools and a pouch which no doubt held the diamond. Santana cracked her neck and pulled her long black hair out of the pony tail she had it in, shaking it out around her shoulders she propped her boots up on the coffee table.
"You didn't have any trouble getting it did you?" He asked her and she snorted.
"Please. The only thing I had 'trouble' with was copying your M.O. You're pretty high maintenance for an art thief Hummel."
Kurt snorted and said sarcastically, "Thanks Tana." He held out a hand and she tossed over the pouch.
Taking a quick peak he felt immensely satisfied at the sight of the beautiful pink diamond nestled in the velvet cloth of the pouch. "Perfect. This is great, Santana, thank you. I owe you one," he told her.
Santana snorted again. "Don't be an idiot anything I owe you for putting me onto it."
Kurt laughed and strode into the kitchen gracefully, placing the pouch into a secret compartment by his wine rack, then returned back to where Santana was sprawled out onto the couch with a bottle from his collection and two wine glasses.
He set the glasses on the coffee table, poured them both out a drink and handed Santana hers, settling down next to her on the sofa. "To the rose," he proposed and she snickered.
After composing herself she put on the snobby voice that was universally used by gallery owners.
"To the rose," breaking character she added, "finally,".
They clinked glasses and it was after the first sip that a key could be heard jangling in the lock of the door and Rachel's voice drifted through to them a few seconds later.
Santana's face fell and she tossed back the remaining wine in her glass with barely a grimace.
"Another," she ordered Kurt. "I'm going to need it." Rachel came into the living room, still talking and then stopped when she saw Santana.
"Santana." Rachel stated, taken aback at Santana's presence. "What a lovely... Surprise." She turned to Kurt. "Why didn't you tell me Santana was coming to visit?"
Kurt snickered and gulped back his glass of wine as well, refilling both his and Santana's drinks.
"I'll have another too," He told Santana, ignoring Rachel for a moment, and if the annoyed bleats coming from Ms Berry a second later was any indication she resented it.
Back to the present:
Kurt arrived at the cafeteria and picked up the soup of the day (hazelnut and orange, which sounded... interesting at the least.) and a bread roll, then ordered a cappuccino.
When asked for payment by the Asian girl working the till, (who looked extremely bored - her name tag told him her name was Tina) he just flashed her his consultant badge and smiled at her, whisking away his food and taking his drink with him.
He turned around to face the cafeteria and faced the same predicament that he was so used to back in high school.
Tables were sorted via cliché and he didn't know which ones would accept the gay, theatre geek (only now he was a consultant for the White Collar Crime Unit and, on top of that, a criminal).
Luckily he was saved when he heard Emma Pillsbury call his name.
Kurt and Emma had met the day before, when Detective Anderson had introduced them. She worked in forensics and they had needed her expertise in a case.
He hurried over to her table, where she was sitting with a guy who looked to be about the same age as her. He had curly hair and brown eyes and from the way he and Emma were looking at each other he guessed this was the fiancée Detective Anderson had mentioned the day before.
"Hi Emma," he greeted and turned to the guy. "You must be Will, I'm Kurt Hummel," Will grinned, and offered him his hand to shake. "Emma told me all about you yesterday at lunch," Kurt continued and Will started to look a bit territorial. Kurt laughed, holding up his hands once he'd detached his other from Will's.
"Don't worry, I'm not after your girl. I'm actually gay," Kurt smiled wryly, remembering Mike Chang from the day before, "believe it or not." Will seemed to sag in relief and grinned.
"Sorry. Just, you know, Emma's a great girl. I'm the luckiest man alive and I don't want anyone stealing her away from me," Will joked and Kurt laughed.
"She sure is. If I didn't have a thing for brunettes, I'd be in danger of converting," He winked at Emma and he and Will laughed when she blushed.
"So, Will, what do you do here?"
"I'm actually NYPD's correspondence with the Newspapers." At the look of interested confusion on Kurt's face he grinned and elaborated. "So, when an officer or detective is interviewed for a newspaper I'm the one who arranges it. I also organise press conferences for the station." He added.
"Wow, that sounds interesting. Did you always want to do that when you grew up?" Kurt asked, intrigued, and Will laughed.
"No, I actually wanted to be a Spanish teacher. I tried it for a couple of years and then decided it wasn't for me. I consider that to be the dark period of my life." at Kurt's questioning look Will sighed and elaborated.
"I used to be married and my wife was extremely controlling and very selfish in the relationship. We couldn't have children and eventually she resorted to lying to me that she was pregnant because she thought I was going to leave her." Will shook his head and smiled in frustration at the old memory. "Of course, when I found out we got a divorce. After that I came to New York and I can honestly say I have never looked back. I love what I'm doing right now and I'm so thankful I got out of there when I could."
Will lifted Emma's hand and kissed it, keeping it and making it harder for both of them to eat, which elicited giggles from the both of them. Kurt smiled at the cute couple in front of him.
"Wow," Will looked up and laughed a little at the shock on Kurt's face, "Do you always tell this story to people you've only just met or am I special?"
Will shook his head. "No, I tend to just tell people it immediately if they ask and get it out of the way. It's just easier, you know? Other wise it'll just turn into a bigger deal when I tell them later on."
"Speaking from experience?"
"Yes, Emma. It nearly drove us apart. But, luckily, she accepted it and we moved past it."
Will and Emma kissed each other lightly on the lips and went back to eating, with their intertwined hands resting on the table between them.
"Isn't it disgusting?" Came a voice from behind him. Kurt turned and saw a tall, thin, blonde woman. She looked to be in her early fifties, maybe five years older than Will, and she was wearing what looked like a suit in the style of a track suit.
Will looked up and sighed. "Hello Sue," the look on his face seemed resigned and Kurt saw he was braced for conflict.
"I'm sorry Will, I'm having a difficult time hearing anything you have to say because, your hair looks like a briar patch. I'm expecting animated Disney characters to pop up and start singing songs about 'livin on the bayou'." Sue then turned to Emma, dipping in a slight bow as she inclined her head in greeting. "Elmo, you look particularly ginger today. Make sure you stay out of the sun." Then Sue looked at Kurt and surveyed him from head to toe.
"Huh. I don't recall giving you an insulting nickname." Sue leaned back, assessing him and trying to think who he could be. In the end she gave up and just asked. "Who are ya kid?"
"Kurt Hummel," Kurt said and recognition flickered in her eyes. "I'm the consultant for the White Collar Crime Unit-"
"Yes, I know. I'm the one who arranged for you to come here. Young Burt Reynolds didn't like that very much." Sue seemed to smirk at the knowledge that she annoyed someone.
"Young Burt Reynolds?"
"Anderson. Also known as Other Gay," Kurt's eyes widened in understanding.
"Oh. Huh, yeah I see that. He is a bit like a young Burt- Wait," Kurt stopped, taken aback. "Anderson's gay?"
"We don't like inter department relationships here at the NYPD." Sue said, confusing Kurt even more. "So keep it in your pants Hummel."
"Wha-" She continued speaking without letting Kurt finish, staring off into the distance with her hands clasped behind her back.
"I will give you a choice out of these five nicknames." She announced, like she'd been giving something a lot of thought and couldn't make a decision herself.
"Eddie Muster," Will and Emma exchanged incredulous expressions.
"Tickle-Me-Dough-Face," Kurt pulled face, considering.
"Don Knotts," Kurt snorted.
"Porcelain" Kurt started at the unexpected mention of his nickname.
"Or Future Centre Square. However you can't have Porcelain as that is already somebody's nickname." Kurt rolled his eyes. Yeah, his.
"So, you have a choice out of the other four nicknames."
Kurt deliberated. "Er, Tickle-Me-Dough-Face I guess..."
"Damn. I wanted Future Centre Square." Sue turned to Will and Emma respectively. "Butt chin. Irish." And with that Sue was gone.
Kurt turned back to Will and Emma. "Is she... always like that?" Will nodded.
"Yes,"
"Normally she's much worse, I guess she's in a good mood today," Emma added, and popped a carrot stick in her mouth, chewing delicately.
"Did she call you-"
"Irish?" Emma held a hand up other her mouth as she spoke.
"Butt chin?" Will just looked neutral.
"Oh, I thought I might have imagined it. She seemed... nice." Emma and Will exchanged a look that made Kurt smile. "Oh hush. I don't like to think badly of anyone, so sue me."
Then Kurt remembered something Sue had said. "Hey, Anderson's gay?"
"Yes," Emma said, "Believe it or not the police is actually far more lenient about that nowadays."
Emma's eyes sparkled. "Why, are you interested?" In went another carrot stick.
Before Kurt could reply he heard a voice behind him. "Interested in what?"
Kurt turned around and saw it was Detective Anderson. "Nothing," Kurt said, although his voice was a mite higher than he intended.
Anderson looked at him with a strange glint in his eye that said he didn't believe Kurt in the slightest.
"Uh huh. Sure," he sat next to Will, as he teased Kurt.
"Hey Will," he greeted with familiarity.
"Blaine, hi. How's work? Got any leads on Porcelain?" Anderson sighed.
"No. Apart from the jewellery heist last night, nothing new. And we didn't get any prints then either ,everything was pretty much the same." Suddenly Anderson hit the table with a clenched fist, making Emma jump and Kurt raise an eyebrow. " Damn it. I'm never going to get him!" Emma laid a hand on Anderson's shoulder, although it gave him no comfort.
"If anyone is going to get him Blaine, its you." She soothed.
"Yeah, you've come close a ton of times! Closer than anyone in your department ever has!" Will chimed in needlessly, which made Kurt raise his eyebrow again.
No, he hadn't. It may seem like it to Anderson but Kurt had always been in control.
The detective had never came close. This was really the closest he's came to catching him and that was only because he'd been in the same room as him for the last two days.
Suddenly in a bad mood and not wanting to be in the company of other people Kurt stood up, having finished his food.
"I'm going to spend the rest of my lunch break outside," he started walking away and heard Anderson say from behind him.
"What? But-"
"If you want to find me, just check my tracker. It's not like I can go anywhere." The resentment in Kurt's voice was obvious.
Blaine watched Hummel leave, perplexed. That was odd. What had he said that had gotten Hummel so wound up?
He turned to Emma and Will, who looked as confused as he felt.
"Do you two have any idea what's gotten into him? Was it something I said?"
Emma looked thoughtful. "I don't know. He was fine before you started talking to Will."
Her eyes brightened and Blaine leaned forward, eager to find out if she'd thought of anything.
"Maybe he was jealous?" Will looked like he was about to agree but Blaine didn't notice and snorted loudly in disbelief.
"Of who? Will? Me? And why would he be jealous anyway?" Will opened his mouth.
"Well Kurt is g-" Will cut off with a yelp of pain and Emma suddenly looked too innocent as Will rubbed his leg under the table. "I mean, I don't know," Will covered lamely. Blaine, however, wasn't really paying attention.
"Oh well," he said, "I guess we'll just never know." He turned to Emma. "How's the wedding planning going?"
And that was that, the rest of lunch was spent talking about flower arrangements and seating charts and it wasn't until it was a half hour into work after lunch when Anderson turned around to ask for Hummel's opinion on something and he realised that Hummel wasn't there.
Blaine was about to pull up Hummel's tracking information when Artie knocked on the door of his office.
"Hey Artie," he greeted.
"Blaine, something just came in for you on the stations email address."
Artie wheeled over and handed Blaine a file.
"Who's it from?" He asked, rubbing his eyes, tiredly.
"A Jesse St James. He claims he's worked with Porcelain." Blaine's head snapped up immediately.
"What?" His shock was evident.
"Thought that might interest you," Artie chuckled and Blaine struggled to comprehend what he was being told. Blaine read the email.
From: JesseStJames ( )
To: WhiteCollar ( )
R.E: FOR THE ATTENTION OF DETECTIVE BLAINE ANDERSON.
Dear Mr Anderson,
My name is Jesse St James and I have information regarding the con man nicknamed Porcelain.
I have worked with him in the past and whilst I don't know if the name I know him by is an alias or not, I do however believe that I have some prints that may belong to him.
Call the phone number at the bottom of this email to contact me and learn more.
Sincerely Yours,
Jesse St James
email: JesseStJames
personal phone number: 293-658-6342
There was no work email or home address attached, and Blaine found himself staring at the email for another forty minutes, Artie having left once he realised he wasn't going to get a reaction from Blaine any time soon.
This is it, Blaine thought to himself, in shock and disbelief. I'm going to get him. I'm finally going to get Porcelain.