Chapter 4: Miss Scarlet

Jeu de Paume Hotel, Paris. Monday, August 15, 2005.

"Tuesday evening, your place?"

As Neal asked the question, he heard a rap on his bedroom door. He placed his hand over the phone and called out, "I'll be right there."

"Is that Peter?" Sara asked.

"Yeah. He must have finished his emails."

"You can tell me the rest tomorrow. I'll cook my standard—sushi and maki rolls from the local shop on Broadway."

"Don't forget the mochi ice cream."

"No chance of that. I found a new flavor I think you'll like. Later, Professor."

"See ya, Scarlet." Neal sprang off the bed to open the door.

"Anyone I know?" Peter asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Private lives, right?"

"Of course. Did you ask her out?"

Neal didn't deign to answer, letting a half-smile suffice. Peter was free to interpret it any way he chose. "Any news from New York?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. I just got off the phone with Travis. I would have put him on speaker, but since you were otherwise engaged . . ."

Neal walked into the living room and sprawled onto the couch. "Fully in work mode now. What's up?"

Peter pulled up a red leather chair to sit next to him, his expression turning serious. "It's Kramer."

Neal shot upright. "Travis got proof?"

Peter nodded. "Philip Kramer, the head of D.C. Art Crimes, is the Ydrus informant."

They'd known that the mole was someone within Art Crimes. For the past several weeks, Travis's team had been monitoring their communications. Neal had tried not to let personal animosity color his judgment of a man who'd been a thorn in his side practically ever since he began working at the FBI. No need to now.

"The breakthrough came when Travis received permission to hack the unit's personal computers," Peter said.

"I'm sorry it's Kramer."

Peter shot him a surprised look. "After all the mean-spirited actions he took against you, I would have expected you to be happier."

Neal shrugged. "He was your mentor. You've been friends for a long time. For your sake, I'd hoped it was one of the other members of the unit."

Peter's mouth tightened. "I appreciate that. Kramer's been so blatant in his attempts to discredit you, I had difficulty in believing he could be the mole. I thought it was more likely someone else was sending him false reports about you."

"When he listed me as a person of interest with Sterling-Bosch, I wondered the same thing." That still rankled. Neal had discovered last month that Kramer had warned Sara's insurance company about him. Peter had worked with the company's CEO, R.W. Bosch, to quickly clear his name. Otherwise, the damage to his reputation could have been severe.

"Kramer tried to sabotage your candidature to join the Interpol Art Crimes task force. He's lectured me about how you wouldn't be able to give up your old ways." Peter gave a mirthless chuckle. "I insisted you'd turned your life around. What I didn't realize was that he had as well."

Hearing how Peter stood up for Neal helped to counteract the bitterness. "What did Travis discover?"

"He drilled in on the theft of Raphael's St. George and the Dragon last summer. That was the first time Kramer revealed his hostility, not overtly, but in his refusal to allow your participation in the case. Travis said Kramer had a personal server set up to handle his files and email. Aidan was able to penetrate it this weekend. He found buried in the files an email from Kramer to a person he addressed as Python concerning the theft."

"He wrote the head of Ydrus?"

Peter's jaw hardened as he nodded. "It's an ironclad case. We only found out about Python last spring. Kramer was writing her six months earlier."

"What did he say in the email?"

"He was furious that Python had reneged on a deal to frame you for the theft of the painting. In his email he reminded Python that he hadn't reported seeing the image of Klaus on the museum surveillance footage."

"So Klaus did steal the painting!"

"We suspected that might be the case and this confirms it."

Neal had wondered if Klaus stole the painting to catch his attention. If he believed what Klaus told him in the virtual reality sequence, last summer Klaus had already made up his mind to make an overture to Neal to rejoin his crew. Now he knew that was a lie, concocted by Klaus or Rolf to hide the early frame attempt. "Did Kramer refer to Klaus as the Leopard?"

"It's in the same email. The email was in the draft folder and appears never to have been sent."

Peter was watching him closely, probably trying to assess how shaken he was by the findings. Peter didn't have to worry. Everything Neal heard simply reinforced his feelings about Klaus. "Kramer may have intended to delete the names before sending the email then changed his mind."

Peter shrugged. "It's usually a stupid mistake that trips someone up. Travis said Kramer apparently never deletes any emails. The draft was buried so deep, he undoubtedly forgot about it."

"What was the date?"

"August 17, 2004. At that time I'd heard of the Leopard but didn't know his identity. No one at Interpol or the Bureau did either, or so we thought. It was only when you fingered him in the fall that we were able to put a name to the alias. Now we have proof that at least as far back as last summer Kramer knew about both Python and the Leopard." Peter took a long breath and stood up. "Minibars were meant for times like this. You want a drink?"

"Definitely. We'll put it on Gordon's tab."

Peter retrieved a Belgian beer and Neal poured himself a glass from an open bottle of Chablis. How long had Kramer been working with Ydrus? How had they managed to recruit him? Until Kramer was interrogated they likely wouldn't find out much more. "Before we knew who the informant was, we'd discussed leaving him in place to use for the con. Is that still the game plan?"

"More than ever," Peter said, clinking glasses with him. "We now have our funnel to feed false reports to Ydrus. Travis and Jones are reviewing the evidence with Hughes this afternoon. I'm sure he'll agree, but we'll discuss it on Wednesday when we're back at the office."

"I wonder why Ydrus decided against framing me."

Peter considered for a moment as he sipped his beer. "Rolf or Klaus could have talked Python out of it. Perhaps that was when Rolf hatched the scheme to recruit you for their crew while letting you continue at the FBI."

"Or they may have thought I would have gone off grid if they tried anything. They didn't have much to blackmail me with. There would have been no reason for me to sign up with them."

"Klaus admires you. He may have wanted to spare you the distress that being arrested would have caused."

Neal snorted his skepticism. "That virtual hellhole he imprisoned me in was tough love?"

"Perhaps in Klaus's mind it was or Rolf could have convinced him. It's possible Klaus honestly believes you'll be happier working with him."

"Then why did Kramer continue to be so hostile to me?"

"It does appear to be a contradiction," Peter agreed, "but there may have been a disagreement between Python and the Mansfelds on how to exploit you. She could be less interested in your New York contacts. She may have continued to argue to reel you in immediately and forego the complexities of long cons."

"You think Python's an impatient serpent?"

Peter nodded. "And a ruthless one. We've been working to increase any possible friction between the Mansfelds and Ydrus. With Kramer as a mouthpiece, our task is now easier."

It had been a close call. If Kramer had planted the evidence about him, it would have been difficult to fight. Neal hadn't established a very long track record. He'd even admitted to Peter that before he'd gone to work for the FBI, he'd considered stealing the Raphael to get Kate's attention. The tables were now turned. Kramer would be the one getting played.

Matra Mountains north of Budapest, Hungary.

Rolf watched his brother stomp up the mountain trail west of the castle. He'd hoped the hike would calm Klaus down, but so far any perceived benefit was minimal. Klaus had been seething ever since he heard the news.

Luckily Anya had been occupied with the Russian arms dealer all morning. It would be counterproductive for Klaus to confront her. The mood he was in was dangerous for both of them. Here in the forest, they were far away from Anya's spies. Klaus could vent without fear of being overheard.

He'd been on a short fuse ever since the latest Arkham Files story was published. Making the villain a leopard—and a devolved one at that—was more galling to him than Rolf would have imagined. Klaus took it far too personally. All he saw was that he'd been depicted as an object of loathing and revulsion, a mindless tool who'd carried out orders to torture Neal.

Klaus refused to see the hidden meaning. That leopard wasn't evil by nature. It had been corrupted by others. Peter's concealed warning to Rolf was loud and clear. It was a mistake to align themselves with Ydrus. And Rolf had to admit, Peter made a valid point. The events of the past week were a confirmation.

Klaus spun around to face him. "Did you know about this?"

"No. Anya didn't tell me either."

He grunted. "We could have eventually come to an arrangement with Gordon. He's exactly the kind of ally we need. Now he'll never agree to work with us. And that Leila was the instrument of this idiocy?" He cursed and picked up a fallen branch, snapping it in two.

"How did Anya find out about her?" Rolf asked, keeping his voice even-pitched. They'd come to an overlook from where they could see a vast expanse of rugged mountains in front of them. The panorama should encourage Klaus to think in terms of the big picture.

"That was my mistake," he admitted bitterly. "It was when we discussed stealing the Hilliard miniature in London. She initially planned to send me to Saint Petersburg for the Hermitage job. I suggested she hire Leila for the Hilliard. At the last moment, Anya changed her mind and sent me instead." He flung the branch pieces off the overlook. "Sometimes I feel like I'm being jerked around on a chain," he muttered.

It was hardly a surprise that Klaus chafed visibly at the restrictions Anya and her Ydrus organization imposed. He felt the same way. But for now, Ydrus was a necessary evil.

Klaus scanned the vista. "And do you know who we have to thank for the debacle?" Without giving Rolf a chance to respond, he plunged ahead. "Neal and Peter."

"What are you talking about?"

"When Anya told me what happened, I had one of our operatives find out if Gordon had received any visitors in prison. Neal and Peter were listed on the prison log report for Friday evening. You know Neal's history with Leila. I'd bet anything he was the one who fingered her to the police."

"Think about what you're saying," Rolf objected. "Peter was with him. That would mean he was helping, too."

"Aren't you the one trying to convince me that Peter wants to team up with us? What does this show? That he intends to compete with Ydrus? Peter already has Neal in his pocket. Now he has Gordon Taylor, as well."

Could Klaus be right? Was Peter outflanking them at their own game?

"During his trip to Paris in June, Neal had stayed at the hotel Chantal liked so much," Klaus continued. "I checked and he stayed there again with Peter this weekend. Not only that, but in the very suite we always reserved." Klaus turned to face him. "You're the psychologist. What do you make of that?"

Rolf wasn't about to give him an answer. Peters' gambit was an intriguing one, demanding further study. Had Neal told him about the history of the suite or had he discovered it on his own? "Find out all you can about their activities while they were in Paris."

Klaus nodded. "Already in progress. They'll need to be monitored even more closely in New York. I'm fighting fires on multiple fronts. Anya grows increasingly impatient. If it weren't for Huber, she'd insist we move ahead and bring Neal in."

"Another reason you must still your anger. She's our pipeline to Huber. She controls all communications with him." Huber had earned himself a grace period when he claimed to have information which would lead to a sunken U-boat filled with treasure. "Has Anya discovered what evidence he has?"

"Not yet, but he's being tailed wherever he goes. He was in Paris recently. He told Anya that he has the inside track on a French Resistance fighter who has direct knowledge of the paintings." Klaus's face darkened. "Now, with the debacle over Gordon Taylor, locals will no longer want to work with us. Ydrus will become a pariah. She'll need to spend double, maybe triple the price, and even then the talent will be inferior."

"This should teach her a lesson in patience. We can use this as an example if she objects to our plans for Neal and Peter. We're the ones who are on track. We're the ones who supply her with art."

Klaus's face was no longer flushed with anger. A good sign. "You'd mentioned the day would come when we'd want to sever our ties."

"But it's not yet here," Rolf cautioned. "You'll need to maintain your intimacy with Anya until we're ready."

He nodded agreement. "She slipped this job past me. It won't happen again."

"Good. Any news on Bianka?" Anya had designed the plan to use her sister as another means of controlling Neal. The blonde beauty was an artist and a talented forger. If the plan worked, soon she'd be receiving master classes from Neal. She'd been installed at Columbia during the summer and they'd arranged for her to have the studio next to Neal's. Anya had devised a gradual escalation of her use with the objective of making Neal fall in love with her. Although her plan had potential, Rolf much preferred his own strategy. They'd abducted Neal in July and implanted false memories which would resurface once they played the Vermeer trigger. Soon Neal would once again be theirs to employ as they wished and if the signals were correct, Peter would be as well. Bianka's role was as additional insurance. She'd become an essential ingredient in the second trigger.

"I'm surprised she hasn't progressed further," Klaus admitted. "We crafted the ideal personality for Neal. He should find her irresistible. But she's had a string of back luck. It was understandable her progress was delayed when Neal returned to New York from California. He was on medical leave for a week and didn't go to his studio. She'd asked him out but had to cancel when she developed the flu. Then he was out of town for a week. She tried to call him this past weekend, not realizing he was in Paris. Anya's ordered her to ask him out again."

"And she's impatient with us?" Rolf snorted his disdain. "Our plan proceeds well. Neal shows no sign of being affected by the memories we planted. Herr Doctor has analyzed the monitoring results and concurred." Not that Rolf placed much reliance on Erasmus Penfold's verdict. The neuropsychologist was as unethical as Anya, but Rolf had reviewed the reports and videos personally.

"I don't share your confidence." Klaus scanned the valley below. A lone hawk soared upward, rafting on a thermal. "There are too many references in Diana's latest story to Neal's abduction. Injuries that disappear? Disguises? Dreams which appear real? I don't like it. Have the memories already resurfaced?"

"The team knows Neal was held captive, and they know he wasn't injured. They're playing a fishing game now, trying to provoke a reaction. If a few memories seep through, they shouldn't present a problem. Last fall when Neal had PTSD after you faked your death, he hid his symptoms. He'd be even more likely to do so this time. We'll continue monitoring his condition. If the situation warrants, we'll only need twenty-four hours to pull the second trigger."

Klaus nodded. "Abort the Vermeer? That could be our best strategy if you're confident about Peter. There's been no evidence that anyone suspects we're alive. We would have heard about it from Kramer."

Klaus could be right. Rolf longed for the day he could reveal his identity to Peter. The second trigger would hasten that moment. Who did Peter think Azathoth was? That thought kept Rolf up at night. Klaus believed no one knew they'd faked their deaths. Rolf wasn't so sure. But if Peter had figured it out, he wasn't telling anyone. Could it be that Peter was manipulating White Collar like Rolf was Ydrus? Rolf kept his smile to himself over that intoxicating prospect.

Klaus cocked an eyebrow. "You don't think the astrolabe in the story is a reference to the Vermeer painting?"

"Not necessarily. Diana's been using an armillary sphere for months. Ever since I forged the Galileo manuscript, I've been teasing Peter." Rolf was confident that Peter as a fellow astronomy enthusiast would appreciate Rolf's knowledge of antique astronomical instruments. "More likely it's another signal from Peter that he's open to being recruited by Azathoth." Rolf chuckled. "Two astronomy puzzle-masters working together, while you and Neal plunder the world's museums."

"Are you sure Peter's not playing you?"

"No, but I'm confident I understand his motivations. There's no indication that Neal recalls anything about the theft of The Astronomer. If the French had discovered it's been replaced with Bianka's forgery, we would have heard."

"Shouldn't we verify that the forgery's still in place?"

"That's not easily done," Rolf admitted. "The French have changed their security protocol on their off-site warehouse. Any attempt to examine the forgery is too risky. We don't want to raise a premature alarm."

The original now hung in Rolf's study in the castle. If they played their hand correctly, they might not even need to blackmail Neal. Simply referencing it would be enough to cause the implanted memories to rise to the surface.

Still, Klaus had a point. Was there any chance that Neal remembered the Vermeer painting? Would Peter have checked? He'd do anything to protect Neal, of that Rolf was convinced.

It was far more likely that Diana had inserted the astrolabe, along with the compendium and compass, as nods to the man they called Azathoth. The underlying signals from Peter were unmistakable. He challenged them to make an offer worth his while. The discussion between him, Neal, and Mozzie at the story's conclusion about being galactic thieves couldn't have been clearer. And the news about Gordon Taylor simply reinforced the message. Peter was cutting out Ydrus while preparing the way to go into partnership with him and Klaus. All in good time, my friend. . .

WCWCWCWCWCWCWC

On Tuesday morning, Peter's crew bid farewell to Paris. They went their separate ways at the airport. Neal and Peter took a flight back to New York which would arrive early in the afternoon. Mozzie was heading to Rome but promised to be back in town in time for the party on Thursday evening. A speakeasy party had become a tradition to mark the completion of one of Diana's Arkham Files stories. June and Mozzie hosted it at her mansion. This time the event would also serve to celebrate the launch of the double con against Adler and Huber. For Neal, it had a special significance. It would mark the first time Sara would be participating.

He hadn't seen her since the end of July when she agreed to be part of the con. They'd been keeping in touch by phone and text messages, but there was much Neal hadn't discussed with her, including the slight matter of a curse hanging over his head. He hadn't told Henry yet either. That would be even harder.

When he went to her apartment that evening, he didn't attempt to explain a soul-sucking goddess over dinner. He also left out the extent of his relationship with Leila. Peter might think it was work-related, but as background information for a prospective date it was hardly suitable. Even so, there was no shortage of topics to cover. Over the promised meal of sushi and maki rolls, Neal explained what had transpired with Gordon and Isabelle.

Sara was as spellbound by Isabelle's account as he had been.

"René gave his life," she said. "Isabelle's sacrifice was equally heroic. Those paintings simply have to be recovered."

"And we intend to do just that." Sara didn't know that one painting was already safe. Mozzie was hiding the Braque in his bunker. For months Neal had agonized over that painting. Now he felt like he was its guardian, watching over it till it could be returned to the world.

Sara set down her chopsticks. "Stolen items can develop a life of their own. When I hear about its history, it sometimes acquires a personal significance. It's no longer simply a piece of jewelry. It's a treasured heirloom, the symbol of a wedding, an object which evokes memories of a lost loved one." She brushed a wayward strand of copper hair behind her ear and smiled. "I wind up feeling almost as if I'm rescuing a lost child. Does that sound crazy?"

"Not to me," he assured her. "With me, it's paintings. Those lost masterpieces are calling to me now too." When he'd been a thief in Europe, he rarely stopped to think about the personal connection an owner might have with the object Neal stole. That thief was gone forever. The skills were still there. It was how he used them that had changed. And that enabled him to relate to Sara in a way which would have otherwise been impossible.

"André began spreading the word today about the Braque," he said. "By the time of June's party, we could be celebrating the sale of my forgery."

"The amount you'll likely receive is staggering. That must make you feel proud."

More than you know. "It's also the opening gambit of the con. That means we'll be seeing a lot more of each other."

"It's about time," Sara declared as she picked up their plates. "I'm off the travel circuit at Sterling-Bosch for two weeks. I assume you know that Henry wants us to meet at his place tomorrow evening."

"Then we'll spend the next weekend on the sailboat. Henry hasn't filled me in on the specifics but I'm sure he'll try to throw us together as much as possible. I hope you won't come down with Matthew-fatigue before we've had our first date."

"Not possible," she affirmed confidently, tossing him a roll of plastic wrap for the leftovers. "Alicia's looking forward to making up for squandered opportunities."

They'd chosen names related to two clueless characters from Jane Austen for their fictitious love interests. Sara's fake boyfriend was Matthew, a nod to Matthew Macfadyen, the actor who played Darcy in the new Pride and Prejudice movie. Neal's fake girlfriend was named Alicia after Alicia Silverstone who starred in Clueless, an appropriately titled remake of Emma. And no one would know that when they mentioned Alicia and Matthew, they were actually speaking about themselves. It was a maneuver designed to keep them from having to lie to their friends.

The Clueless con they'd dubbed it, and it had been a delightful daydream, but that's all it had been. Neal had yet to ask Sara out. Were they having too much fun in the game, scheming about Matthew and Alicia while adopting the names of their Clue game pieces to plot strategy? Sara was wearing a scarlet tank top in honor of Miss Scarlet, and Neal wasn't any better. He'd worn a plum-colored t-shirt.

When they'd first discussed the con, they'd promised to keep each other informed of any issues that popped up and there was one gigantic mastodon which needed to be confronted. Back in France, he'd resolved to tell her, but it had sounded much easier when they were separated by thousands of miles.

She pulled a tub out of the freezer. "In honor of the Clueless con, I have plum wine mochi ice cream. The game board is already set up on the cocktail table— ready for us to plot our moves over dessert."

Sara had discovered Neal's love of mochi ice cream balls and was doing her best to keep him supplied. Many thought the rice-shell-coated ice cream was an acquired taste, but then the same could be said about him. For Sara, he'd been cracking the shell on his own secrets. The mastodon prodded him in the back that it was time to for another disclosure.

They took their bowls and sat down on the sofa in front of the game board. The mastodon lumbered behind them, flopped next to Neal, and snuffled in his ear. What are you waiting for?

She watched expectantly as he bit into the ice cream. "Do you like the flavor?"

He nodded judiciously. "Plum's the perfect choice for my character."

She gave a relieved smile. "I thought so. Complex, sophisticated, with a hidden sweetness which reminds me of someone I'd like to know better. I'm glad we settled on Professor Plum for your avatar."

Neal picked up his game piece and held it in his hand. Was that the problem? His character no longer seemed as appropriate. "Perhaps we need to select a new board game."

She raised an eyebrow. "So soon? We've barely started with Clue. What do you have in mind?"

"Something with a witch theme."

"Like Bewitched?" She smiled. "Playing Samantha could be fun. When I was in Chicago, I saw the movie with Will Ferrell and Nicole Kidman. But plotting over two different games could get confusing. We probably should either stick to Clue or—"

"Stop," he said, interrupting. "I wish that was all it was. Just another game." He took a breath. "I haven't told you about all my cases."

"Nor have I explained about mine," she said, her expression growing serious. "I thought we understood there are some details of our work we're not allowed to share."

"And I'm in full agreement. But Peter and I became involved in some non-FBI investigations over the past several months. They've been eye-opening experiences about a world neither one of us knew existed." He placed his game piece in the box with the other characters. "Do you remember the scene in The Crypt when Neal tells Sara about all the bizarre creatures he's been seeing in Arkham—ghasts, nightgaunts, and zoogs?"

She nodded thoughtfully. "It was difficult for him to confide in her. Are you telling me you have a similar situation?"

"Yeah."

"Then I hope I can be as understanding as Arkham Sara was. You better start from the beginning."

So Neal did. From the dork curse in New Jersey, his and Sam's abduction by vampires and the art forger Curtis Hagen's transformation into a demon to the witches and the pure-blood vampires they'd encountered. And although he felt guilty about dumping everything at once upon her, it also felt good to finally get it off his chest.

Sara's face ran the gamut from astonishment to apprehension as the full significance of his words sank in. The world she thought she knew would be forever changed. "I remember you mentioned a swamp witch and vampires last May. I thought you were joking, but you weren't." She scanned his face for confirmation.

"No, although I passed it off as a tease. I assumed that'd be the end of it, but it didn't turn out that way."

"Does the team at White Collar know about Astrena?"

He nodded. "Jones, Diana, Travis—even Hughes—they've all been informed. We brought them in at the end of July. But my cousins Henry and Angela know nothing about it. Henry only returned to town yesterday. I plan to tell him this weekend. As for Angela, I hope she never knows how close she came to being seduced by a vampire."

"I've never heard of Astrena. You'd think that someone who supposedly is the mother of vampires and witches would be more famous. She'd rank right up there with Aphrodite and Athena."

"The A-list of goddesses?"

Sara smiled but it didn't extend to her eyes. The news was hitting her hard. It made Neal regret more than ever he had to tell her. Last month, he saw a therapist because of Rolf's mind games. Now he was consulting psychics. Sara must wonder what would be next. How would this affect their future?

"Mozzie's found additional references to her. He's in Rome now doing additional research."

"The most recent artist that you believe was her victim—the man in Connecticut "—she paused for a moment— "How long was his illness?"

"His widow said the symptoms started about a year before he succumbed."

"You described the symptoms as a gradual wasting away?"

"The widow said it was like his strength was being drained off," Neal admitted, "and none of the medical experts they consulted could provide a cause. The style of his art became progressively darker. He often dreamed of a woman whom we believe was either Astrena or one of her sisters."

"You said you don't exhibit any physical symptoms. How about dreams?"

"A few in the spring," he admitted. "Sam and I both were dreaming of someone. We never saw their faces. Mine was a blonde from Mozart's time. The Winchesters think Mozart may have been one of Astrena's victims. Hagen felt himself drawn to Goya who has also been identified as a probable victim. Then, in Shepherdstown . . ." Neal hesitated. She'd really think he was nuts, but she deserved to know. "When the pure-blood vampire attacked me, I think I saw Astrena inside my head."

Her hand reached out for his. "You saw her?" He could hear the fear mixed with incredulity in her voice.

"Yeah, a figure of ice. Not very distinct. I made a drawing of her for the Winchesters."

She nodded absently a moment, not saying anything. Was she thinking of how to tactfully distance herself? He wouldn't blame her. He wished he could put ten thousand miles between himself and Astrena.

Sara looked up. "But you haven't seen her since?"

"No, and Sam isn't having any dreams either."

"I'm glad you reminded me of our Arkham counterparts. We mock them for being clueless but they have an inner reserve of strength which lets them survive whatever gets tossed their way."

"Diana modeled those characters on us."

"And we need to live up to that standard," she said. "Arkham Sara didn't abandon Neal even though anyone associating with him could be targeted by Azathoth, ghasts, or whatever other monster the Arkham Round Table dreams up. Nor will I."

"Arkham Neal also gave Sara the chance to back out. When I read that bit, I never thought I'd be in a similar situation, but here we are. Before I found out about the curse, I'd planned to ask you out . . . on a real date."

This time the smile wasn't only on her lips. "You'd like to give Alicia and Matthew a chance?"

He nodded. "If you're willing. You know the risks. The last thing I want is anyone's pity."

"None of us knows what lies ahead. You have a curse. I could be run over by a truck. The takeaway for me in what you're saying is that we should live in the moment."

"I'd like that as well." He knew he'd thrown her for a loop. Despite her words, she couldn't disguise the concern in her eyes. But she didn't dwell on it. She didn't overwhelm him with concern about his health.

"So now we're confronted with another dilemma," Sara went on. "When?"

"Next week? We could go out to dinner. Is there anything else you'd like to do?"

"How about Riffs? You've told me it's the hottest rock club in the Village, and I've never heard you sing in public."

Neal was delighted at her choice. He knew just the song. "If we go midweek, there'll be less chance of Henry spotting us. He often goes there on Saturday nights with Eric. It's also possible Mozzie would be there."

Her eyes widened. "I wouldn't have thought he was into rock music."

"He's not. Mozart and Bach are more his style. But Mozzie recently developed an interest in what he calls angst-beat. He recites Ginsberg poetry while beating a drum." Neal chuckled. "I heard him last weekend and he wasn't bad. He was there with his girlfriend Janet. They were both wearing wigs."

"Not a bad idea," she said, her eyes lighting up mischievously. "Should we do the same?"

He retrieved his game piece from the box. "I wish I could but I've performed there too often. They'd recognize my voice and wonder why I was in disguise."

"They don't know me." She gazed up at the ceiling dreamily. "I could be a ditsy blonde, like my namesake Alicia Silverstone in Clueless."

Sara as a blonde? That would be interesting. She'd already masqueraded as Rose Tyler on the Doctor Who set. He couldn't wait to see what she'd come up with for her Alicia disguise.

"That will be a date to be remembered," she declared, "but enough of daydreams. Duty calls." She picked up her Miss Scarlet game piece and set her down in the ballroom on the game board while Neal pulled out the other pieces from the box.

"The main suspects we'll need to watch carefully are Henry—let him be Colonel Mustard—and Elizabeth," he warned.

"She can be Mrs. White," Sara suggested. "June is her accomplice. She'll be Mrs. Peacock. Should we name anyone Reverend Green?"

"Perhaps Mozzie. He likes to think of himself as a love guru. But I'm not worried about him intriguing against us. We suspect El and Henry are working together to manipulate the romance between you and me in Diana's stories."

"Did you get confirmation?"

"I overheard June on the phone with El last week. Some of the ideas they were discussing have Henry's fingerprints on them. It also became apparent that Diana and Peter have become our unwitting allies. June is convinced that I'm dating Bianka."

Sara raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Who's Bianka? Should I be jealous?"

"You have nothing to fear. She's a new student from Hungary and has the studio next to mine. She invited me to a concert in appreciation for me helping her with her English. I took her to Riffs a couple of weeks ago, but she's purely in the friend zone."

"And Diana and Peter know about her?"

"They've seen her at my studio. Bianka's blonde, attractive. They may have leaped to a false conclusion but it wasn't because of anything I said."

"This could work to our advantage. If Henry should happen to see you with a blonde, he'll probably assume it's Bianka. He hasn't met her, has he?"

"No." Neal smiled as he considered the possibility. "If Henry happens to draw the wrong conclusion, it wouldn't be my fault. Once classes resume, Bianka will be swarmed by admirers. I doubt strongly she'll invite me to any other concerts."

"Good. I wouldn't want her to wilt on the vine while she pines for my Matthew."

My Matthew. He liked the sound of that. "El and June must have persuaded Diana to go along, but my hunch is she's a reluctant participant in the matchmaker conspiracy. She could be equally useful for us. I was able to persuade her to adjust the story line in her latest story, Cinereous Skies."

"Space Bends was your idea?"

He grinned. "Arkham Neal needed a little excitement in his life. Too bad Diana tweaked it. My concept was much more stimulating."

She snickered. "I'm sure they'll contact me for more ideas since they think I'm their willing accomplice."

Cons within cons. Peter thought life was complicated with a double con against Adler and Ydrus. That was only the half of it. Kate once told him he always complicated things but that was what made him fun. Sara appeared to enjoy it just as much, and her con artist skills were every bit as good as Kate's if not better.

Sara slid closer to him on the sofa. "You know, I see no reason to wait all the way to next week for our first date. Let's call that our second."

He slipped an arm around her and squeezed her waist gently through the sleek tank top. "What an excellent suggestion. It doesn't seem right to start the con without letting Matthew and Alicia first have a chance."

She ran a finger around the collar of his t-shirt. The touch of her finger thrust any thoughts of Astrena into the cellar. "We had dinner just the two of us. We exchanged secrets. I can light a couple of candles, put on some music—"

"—or we can make our own," he said, losing himself in her green eyes. "We've kissed for Keller's benefit when we went on a fake date."

"We pretended to be making out in front of the guard at Win-Win's headquarters last summer."

"As I recall, Arkham Sara said something about wanting to perform prolonged mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on me. Was that your suggestion?"

She answered with her lips as she cupped his face in her hands.

Notes: I assumed that Neal would proceed more slowly with Sara than he would normally because of the current complications in his life. On the other hand, when is Neal's life not complicated? In the canon episode "Under the Radar," Sara told Neal making things complicated was his specialty, and he admitted being able to teach a master class on the subject. Penna picked up the theme in Caffrey Flashback when Kate said part of what made Neal fun was how he always complicates things. The Clueless con is yet another example. This week I wrote an update for our blog. The post is called "The Clueless Con: A Winning Strategy."

In this chapter Neal and Sara joke about the romantic sparks between Arkham Neal and Sara. The events occurred in Cinereous Skies. As for the meaning of Space Bends, you'll have to ask Neal.

Thanks to Penna for playing complicated bunnyball with me for Sara, Kramer, and the Mansfeld brothers. We've enjoyed speculating about the similarities and contrasts between Rolf and Henry, and Win-Win and Ydrus. If you'd like to play along, here are some of the topics. Rolf and Henry both use psychological techniques to achieve their objectives but Henry's sense of decency ensures that his actions are always for the right reasons. Are there any circumstances which would have led Henry to team up with Rolf? Win-Win's reputation in the past was that they sometimes rode roughshod over ethics in their manipulation of data. If Henry's father Robert had become CEO, could they have become the Ydrus of data mining?

Lately, Penna's life has been hijacked by the quest for a new job. Now that the search has reached a successful conclusion, she paused to reflect on the experience. She's written a blog post about it: "Job searching is like an AU." I'm holding myself back from giving spoilers about the twists and turns she's had to navigate, but her perspective is fascinating and brilliantly entertaining at the same time!

Blog: Penna Nomen & Silbrith Conversation
Chapter Visuals and Music: The Harlequin's Shadow board on the Caffrey Conversation Pinterest website