Satchmo provided the first warning, lurching to his feet with a low growl. Elizabeth felt the movement under her hand, and it partially roused her from her slumber on the couch.

The knock on the door brought her to complete wakefulness.

She hadn't even meant to fall asleep, as the open laptop on the coffee table attested. She'd been researching defense attorney ratings.

She opened the inner door, then stopped with her hand on the knob of the outer portal. A quick glance out the side window showed a man she didn't recognize.

Given yesterday's events, caution was probably a good route to take.

"Who is it?"

"Mrs. Burke? My name is Russell Mansur. Wally Sherman asked me to come."

Elizabeth ran her hands through her hair, hoping that got rid of the worst of the just-woke-up look, and then she opened the door, getting her first real look at Russell Mansur. A shock of blond hair was the defining feature that caught her eye, the bangs swept to one side over wire-rimmed glasses with thick lenses that magnified his eyes. He wasn't tall, probably a few inches short of six feet, but his tailored black pinstriped suit made him seem taller. He clutched a soft-sided briefcase under his left arm, his right hand extended in greeting.

And somehow, as she shook hands, she managed to not blurt out the question uppermost on her mind – namely, if he had really graduated from high school yet, much less law school. Oh, he looked young…

"Come in, Mr. Mansur," she managed to say, straightening her sweatshirt as she stepped aside. At least she was decently, even if not stylishly, dressed.

"Please, call me Russell," he said as he stepped inside, pausing to hold his hand out to Satchmo. She watched as the lab sniffed, and apparently decided the new human was all right before leaning in for an ear scratch.

Dogs were supposed to be good judges of character, right?

"Russell," she acknowledged, pointing toward the table. "I was just going to make some coffee. Would you like some? Or I have tea."

"Coffee would be just fine, Mrs. Burke. Thank you."

"Please, it's Elizabeth." She walked into the kitchen and opened the cabinet to get the coffee out. She set the French press on the counter, started the water heating, and turned back.

Russell was standing near the table, and when he saw her move toward him, he held out a large envelope. "This was on your front steps when I got here."

Elizabeth took the envelope – addressed to Mrs. Suit.

"It didn't have your name on it," Russell was saying. "I can get someone to check the contents if you don't recognize the writing."

"Oh, I know who it's from." Her hand was shaking as she undid the clasp and opened the flap. Please let it be that Mozzie had found something to help Peter…

She laid several sheets of paper on the table, then tipped the envelope up to let a thumb drive drop out onto the surface.

Russell had picked up the first page, and he turned it toward her now. "Do you know this man?"

Puzzlement turned into an angry glare as she looked. "That's James Bennett. He's the one who actually shot Terrence Pratt."

The attorney laid out a few other photos. "These all appear to be inside a building. And this one shows him with a gun."

"That's good, right?"

"It might be, if we knew how these photos were obtained. Of course, I haven't seen the official report…" His voice trailed off and he held up another sheet. "This is the summary of the US Attorney's charge sheet. The note says the full file is on the thumb drive."

"Thank you, Mozzie," Elizabeth whispered.

Russell looked up. "Excuse me?"

Probably not a good idea to drop Mozzie's name… yet. "Oh, I'll just check on the coffee," she covered.

And there was a slight spring to her step as she went into the kitchen – the first glimmer of hope in this nightmare.


Peter waited – impatiently – for the guard to search him and then let him into the visitation room. He was hoping it would be El…

Definitely wasn't expecting the blond-haired college kid.

He rubbed his wrists, wondering how much of the irritation was actually from the handcuffs that had just been removed, and how much was just from the idea of the cuffs.

The kid stood up, holding out his hand. "Agent Burke, I'm Russell Mansur. Wally Sherman asked me to look into your case."

Peter shook hands, almost preternaturally happy to have been promoted back to 'agent' – at least for the time being. "I've known Wally for a long time," he said, taking a seat at the table. "If he recommends you…"

The kid smiled… and damn if it didn't remind him of Neal. "I know I look young, but I find it's actually an advantage."

"People underestimate you?"

"All the time."

"I'll try not to make that mistake," Peter promised. "So, where do we stand?"

"Well, you seem to have some anonymous help," Russell started, laying out some items from his briefcase. "These were in an envelope dropped off on your front steps this morning."

Peter looked at the photos, and he could feel his spirits rising – even if just a little. "James Bennett. He's the one who actually shot Pratt."

"That's what I understand." Russell set another photo out. "He has a gun in this one."

"Looks like the weapon I saw in Pratt's hand when I first came on the scene."

"That'll be helpful. Of course, we still need to verify the legitimacy of the photos. There was no name on the envelope these came in. Do you know who might have sent them?"

"Oh, I have some idea," Peter replied. And he couldn't help but recall Neal's defense of Mozzie, he can be very useful in a tight spot

And yes, yes he could.

"There was a flash drive as well," Russell continued. "It included the US Attorney's charge sheet – which hasn't even been filed yet."

"I've been in custody since yesterday afternoon," Peter said. "I have no personal knowledge of how that was obtained." And he thought Neal would be proud of that non-answer…

"Well, I also found information on the security cameras these images came from," Russell said, apparently willing to move on – at least for the time being. "I have investigators from my office checking that out."

"What are we looking at as far as a timeline?"

"I'm meeting with someone from the prosecutor's office in about an hour, so I'll have a better idea after that. But with a dead Senator, there's going to be some pressure to move things along quickly and show progress."

"Hopefully not so quickly that justice gets trampled," Peter replied.

"Oh, I won't let that happen. But I would like to get a preliminary hearing as quickly as possible. That way we get a look at what the other side has prepared, and we can argue for bail."

"Do you think there's a chance for that in a murder case?"

Russell tapped the photos on the table. "A little more evidence like this cast some doubt on the charges and I think there's a good shot. Of course, finding James Bennett would be the best option."

Undoubtedly being worked on… by the FBI and by others… "I'm afraid I don't have any information that would help locate him."

"Do you think Mr. Caffrey might?"

Peter shook his head emphatically. "No, if Neal had any idea on how to find Bennett, he would have told me."

"Bennett is his father…"

"A father he hadn't seen for thirty years," Peter pointed out. "And a man who's now leaving Neal to take the blame for an alleged assault that Bennett could clear him of."

"I would like to talk to Mr. Caffrey, if you think he would agree."

"I'll ask him."

"He would need to understand that I am your attorney, not his," Russell warned. "The conversation would not be privileged."

"I'm sure Neal would understand that just fine."

"Do you know if he has an attorney of his own?"

Peter smiled. "Oh, I'm pretty sure he has that covered…"


Neal waited until the door was closed behind him before moving toward the table, a slight smile on his face. "Good to see you, Moz."

Mozzie just scowled. "You have needed an attorney way too often since making your deal with the devil to work for the Suits."

"Keeps your skills sharp." Neal sighed and dropped down onto a chair. "What do you know?"

"Sally and I have found video proof of James, with a gun, trying to leave the building in the moments after Pratt was killed."

"That's a good start."

"Copies were dropped off for Mrs. Suit this morning."

"Did you talk to her?"

"Last night. She said she was meeting with a lawyer for Peter this morning."

Neal nodded. "He got called for an attorney meeting a little while ago."

"Ah, so you've seen him."

That got a grin from Neal. "Oh, yes. We're cellies, for now."

Mozzie sighed and shook his head. "We are judged by the company we keep," he muttered.

"Well, it gives me a chance to keep an eye on him. This isn't exactly familiar turf for Peter."

"We'll continue our efforts to uncover evidence."

"Does the FBI know about the photos?"

"I've requested a meeting with Suit Jones after this."

"I appreciate you working with the FBI on this, Moz."

"He was… helpful, last night," Mozzie admitted.

"That's quite an admission, Moz."

Mozzie pulled a gadget out of his briefcase and set it on the table. "There's no evidence that I ever said it."

Neal picked the small box up, turning it over in his hands. "White noise? Moz, they can't record attorney-client meetings."

"Oh, and I'm supposed to believe that agents of the black hole government will actually follow the rules?"

"Well, you've taken precautions," Neal said noncommittally, sliding the box back. "Any leads on James?"

"We know he turned back from the Holland Tunnel, and so far there's been no sign of June's car leaving Manhattan by any other route."

"But that still leaves subway, bus, train."

"Sometimes New York's extensive public transportation system can be more of a curse than a blessing."

"It would leave him without transportation on the other end of wherever he was going though," Neal pointed out. "So it's possible he's still in Manhattan."

Mozzie nodded. "Entirely possible. There were a couple of rumored sightings overnight, but nothing that could be confirmed. I have everyone looking, and a sizeable reward out there for finding him in one piece."

"He didn't really spend that much time in New York. That may help."

"True, he'll have a harder time finding resources to help him get out of the city."

"And most of those resources will have heard about the reward," Neal added.

"Absolutely. Neal, we'll find him."

Neal nodded and sighed, resting his head against his hands. "I know. I just don't understand why he ran in the first place." He looked up again, offering his friend a sad smile. "I think you were right. Sometimes we're better off with just the fantasy, instead of finding out the truth."

"But if he had turned out to be the man he said he was…"

"No sense dealing with 'if' here," Neal replied. "Something made you not believe him though, otherwise you wouldn't have pulled the switch on the documents at the Empire State Building. What did you see that I missed?"

Mozzie shook his head slowly. "Neal, you know I'm generally distrustful of most everyone and everything. There was no one thing. It was a feeling."

"Well, it's a good thing you acted on it. Otherwise, Pratt would have gotten his hands on all the documents. Any progress on those?"

"Sally is running some queries, looking for external evidence. And I have hard copy documents to search."

"I remember."

"I'll visit the first storage locker after I meet with Suit Jones."

Neal opened his mouth to ask just how many lockers there were… but then he thought better of it. Some things it might really be better not to know. "Have they filed any charges against me yet?"

Mozzie shook his head. "There still seems to be some head-scratching going on over that. There's some noise coming from the Marshals over the anklet."

"Peter removed it, which he was entitled to do. And it's not like I splurged on a crime spree, or even went anywhere other than home. I'm not worried about that part."

"I tend to agree. As your attorney, I'll continue to monitor, but I don't expect anything other than noise to come of it."

"Pratt accused me of assault though."

"That is the bigger problem," Mozzie agreed. "Of course, the death of the complaining witness does create a complication."

"But as a convicted felon, they can use that 'complication' to complicate my life quite a bit."

"Unfortunately true. Neal, I was there, I know you didn't touch Pratt. But since coming back from Cape Verde, I haven't had a chance to set up an identity that would stand up to the kind of scrutiny this case is likely to bring in order to testify."

"I understand, Moz. What about the bodyguard?"

"If he's actually been questioned, it hasn't been officially filed yet."

"No hurry on that, I guess. All they have to do is revoke my probation and they can hold me for the next year and a half."

"If you think I'm going to allow that to happen, you're obviously not thinking clearly," Mozzie replied.

"My apologies. I'll trust my attorney."

"I may have some ideas on how to deal with the bodyguard."

"I hope they don't involve making him disappear."

Mozzie's answering smile was not entirely reassuring. "Not at all."

Neal sighed. "Do I want to know any more about it?"

"Probably better if you don't."

"Then I leave myself in my attorney's capable hands."

"About that. I'm going to contact Nasty about getting someone to represent you, should this actually come to a court hearing."

"Because your ID might not stand up," Neal supplied. "Make sure you protect yourself, Moz."

"Always. Don't worry about me."

"I'll try. And make sure you work on the evidence for Peter first."

"Neal…"

"Moz, murder trumps anything I might be facing."

"Fine."

"I appreciate it, Moz."

"Now, what else do you need, Neal?"

"Well, I might be here a while. I could use a commissary account. And maybe you could bring me a few things…"