White Collar: The Eye of Sita
Chapter Eight
"You just trust him to walk over here?" Walters demanded.
"If he hasn't bolted from me over the past three years he certainly isn't going to run from you now."
"I would rather have not given him the opportunity."
"At least this gave him a chance to get dressed."
"What?"
"He's with Sara Ellis, figure it out for yourself."
Walters finally fell silent. He had been furious when he'd learned that Peter had let Neal just leave for the night. Peter had done his best to push the arrest back until tomorrow, but Walters wanted to bring Neal in right now and wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer.
It took Neal about twenty minutes to make it from Sara's back over to the hotel. Walters and Peter spent most of the time staring at one another in tense silence. Walters had brought one other Agent along as back up. The younger Agent seemed mostly disinterested in the meeting and stood to one side with hands held together loosely in front. He looked like he had been part of the Secret Service at some point. Eventually Neal arrived, he looked over the scene and smiled.
"Agent Walters," Neal greeted as he held his hand out for Walters to shake "good to finally meet you."
"Neal Caffrey," Walters reached out as though he was going to shake Neal's hand, but ended up slapping a metal cuff around Neal's wrist "you're under arrest for suspicion of forgery."
"Walters," Peter protested "are the cuffs really necessary? He walked over her willing to be arrested, he's not a threat."
"Protocol, Burke, some of us still believe in it."
"It's okay, Peter, I don't mind."
Peter backed down, but he still wasn't very happy about any of this. Walters was just hassling Neal to make life more difficult for them both and to experience a power rush. Neal turned his back to Walters so that he could secure the other cuff. Peter was getting more agitated by the second, however Neal seemed perfectly calm. Walters took Neal by the elbow to lead him away and Peter followed.
"What are you doing, Agent Burke?" Walters asked.
"I'm coming with you."
"You can come to the Federal Building, but you are not welcome in my interrogation."
"You really are determined to make this as difficult as possible, aren't you?"
"You're too close to my suspect, I can't have you interfering."
"Fine." Peter said. "Neal, I'll come talk to you afterwards."
"Okay."
Peter furrowed his brow as Walters continued to lead Neal away. Neal was uncharacteristically quiet. Peter had expected Neal to have at least half a dozen witty remarks for Walters all set and ready. However Neal didn't even ask what he was being accused of forging.
Walters took Neal to the Federal Building in his own car. Not interested in sharing a ride Peter drove himself. Once there Walters made it clear again that Peter wasn't allowed anywhere near the interrogation. Frustrated Peter was left in the main office. It was around eight o'clock and everyone had gone home. Peter was startled when Jack from janitorial suddenly appeared.
"Agent Burke?" Jack asked with a smile.
"Hey, Jack. How are the kids?"
"Graduating college, and yet not leaving the house."
"Ouch."
"I think it will be easiest for my wife and I to just move out and leave the house to them." Jack chuckled. "What are you doing here?"
"Walters is interrogating a friend of mine."
"I don't like that guy, he doesn't separate his recyclables." Jack huffed. "Do you want me to let you into the observation room?"
"I don't want to get you in trouble, Jack."
"No trouble. It's sound proof with a one way mirror. Walters will never know you're there."
"Thank you, that would be great."
Jack smiled and lead Peter back to the interrogation room observation room. He had keys to most of the rooms and unlocked the door. Peter stepped in and saw that Walters was already hassling Neal about the paintings. He had taken Neal out of the cuffs and had four of the paintings, including the Monet, spread out on the table in front of where he was sitting. Walters was standing to make himself look more menacing.
"Well, Caffrey?"
"Well what?"
"I have evidence that these paintings were done by your hand."
"Really?"
Neal looked at the paintings with mild interest. Peter noticed that Neal paused when his eyes fell on the Monet. There had been a flash of some strong emotion, but it was gone so quickly that Peter couldn't figure out if it had been fear, anger, or just nostalgia. Neal kept looking at the works.
"Just say you want a lawyer, Neal." Peter said from behind the sound proof mirror. "He can't question you without one if you ask and you know that."
"Caffrey?" Walters pressed.
"I'm sorry, Agent Walters, I'm just a little disappointed."
"Disappointed?" Walters asked.
"I thought the F.B.I knew me better than this. This is half rate work, something I'd expect to see on a motel wall. I'm a little insulted that you think I did this."
Neal looked up at Walters with a bright amused smile. Walters did not share Neal's amusement. He picked up a file off the edge of the desk and leafed through it. Peter watched as Walters dragged over another chair and sat down. The fact that he put the chair on the side of the table near Neal rather than sitting across from him told Peter that Walters was about to switch tactics.
"I looked at your record, four years in Federal Supermax prison without a single incident."
"Well, except for that fairly serious one at the end." Neal pointed out with a touch of pride.
"Right, that was an impressive break out, but then you made no resistance to recapture."
"I had found what I was looking for." Neal replied simply.
"Still none of this explains why you not only were set to serve your full sentence, but that now you have to do it again."
"They couldn't just ignore the fact that I broke out."
"Where are you going with this, Walters?" Peter said anxiously.
"No," Walters continued "but I've seen murderers given immunity and set free for assisting the F.B.I even a fraction as much as you have over the past three years. You never thought it odd that as a first time offender you never came up for early parole?"
"The thought crossed my mind once or twice." Neal admitted.
"Neal...can I call you 'Neal'?" Walters asked politely.
"Sure."
"Woah, wait, this isn't how this works." Peter complained to no one behind the mirror. "You can't be the Bad Cop and the Good Cop."
"Neal, why were you sentenced to Supermax in the first place? You were locked up with serious criminals: murderers, armed robbers, kidnappers, rapists...true scum. What made a twenty-something year old bond forger worthy of being cast in with that lot?"
"I'm not really sure."
"You know exactly why." Peter said in surprise. "And you know I fought to reduce that to a medium security environment."
"White Collar criminals usually end up in minimum security prison, kinda like a day spa where they lock the front gate."
"I guess I was a bit of a flight risk."
"True. However, I can tell you that you ended up in Supermax specifically on Agent Burke's recommendation."
"That is not true." Peter growled from his place in the observation room.
"Peter told them I deserved that?" Neal asked in a hurt tone.
"This is just a game to you, isn't Caffrey?" Peter sighed. "You are loving ever second of toying with Walters."
"He didn't want his prize fish getting away." Walters said. "You know I'm surprised you even survived. Violence, particularly rape is a big problem there, and you're...handsome."
"I had the financial resources to afford the right kind of protection." Neal shrugged. "I never had to worry about dropping the soap or anything if that's what you're getting at."
"Do you still have that kind of wealth now? Four years of protection must have been expensive. What would happen to you now if you wound up back behind bars?"
"Are we going somewhere with this conversation?" Neal asked. "I'm starting to get the feeling that you're a little disappointed that I don't have any traumatic rape stories to share with you. Which I'm finding more than a little disturbing."
"My point is: Agent Burke has been using and abusing you for years to further his own career."
"That's not true." Peter said indignantly.
"I don't know, Agent Walters," Neal replied doubtfully "Peter has been very good to me over the years."
"What would you say if I told you I could have you out of that anklet within forty-eight hours?"
"I'd ask what the catch is."
"You and I both know that Burke has skirted and bent the law for his own purposes in the course of his work. How many times has he looked the other way while you've blatantly broken the law? All to get a better case clearance record."
"You want me to bring down Peter in exchange for my own freedom? No thank you. I only have a year left."
"You think Burke is just going to let you go?" Walters chuckled. "Wake up, Kid. He's nothing without you."
"That's not true."
"Take a look at his case statistics before and after his deal with you. On paper he was an okay Agent, but with you he's a great Agent. He's not just going to give that up."
"He'll have to." Neal said with a hint of anger. "I'm not property, once my sentence is up I can go and do whatever I want."
"Unless you end up with another conviction. In that case you'll once again have the choice between showering with large violent men and being Peter's pet."
"You son of a bitch." Peter snarled. "This is what all this has been about the whole time. You're not trying to convict Neal, you're trying to flip him on me."
"Do you know how I figured out that these paintings are yours?" Walters asked calmly. "Have you heard of Art Fingerprinting?"
"I've heard of it." Neal said with little interest. "But you'd need a known painting of mine to even begin."
"I have one."
"What?"
Peter wished that Neal would just stop pretending to fall for Walters' trap and just demand a lawyer or something. Walters went over to the door and asked for something. The young Agent from before handed him a rolled up canvas which he brought over and opened on the table in front of Neal.
Peter was glad that he had come clean about taking the painting. Even though he knew that the look of betrayed shock on Neal's face was an act it still turned Peter's stomach to see it. Neal reached out slowly and gently touched the painting, as if he had to feel it to believe that it was real.
"Whe...where did you get this?" Neal demanded.
"Agent Burke gave it to us. He didn't tell you?"
Neal just shook his head in numb shock. Peter's blood flashed to ice when he noticed the unfocused look that suddenly clouded Neal's bright eyes.
"Oh no, don't you dare, Neal." Peter growled. "Don't even think about it. Neal, do *not* cry..."
Peter closed his eyes and shook his head sadly as tears streaked down Neal's face. Neal was staring at the stolen painting as though hypnotized by it. He reached up and angrily brushed away the few tears that had spilled.
"And the award for best dramatic performance goes to..." Peter sighed heavily.
Walters watched him like a vulture watches an injured animal. He came closer and put his hand on Neal's shoulder for support. Neal looked up at Walters and flashed him a sad smile. Looking like a lost child Neal turned his attention back to the painting.
"I thought I could trust him. I thought we were partners."
"I'm sorry, Neal." Walters said sympathetically. "Peter's vicious when it comes to his career, it's how he got to be where he is now."
"I guess deep down I've always known that." Neal added.
"Neal, help me and I'll make sure you're out of that tracking anklet for good."
"Before I say anything, I want everything you're offering me in writing."
"Of course. Our lawyers will be in tomorrow morning, I'll have them draft up a contract."
"Can I go back to my girlfriend's for tonight or do I have to stay here?"
"I'll go get one of me people to give you a ride."
"Thank you."
"Thank you, Mr. Caffrey."
Peter just shook his head as Walters left. As soon as the door was closed Neal's face lit up with a bright smile. He was clearly pleased with himself. Peter briefly wondered how Neal would have reacted if that had been the first time he learned of the painting. Something told him that Neal would have been angry, but he doubted that he would have turned on him.
Peter was about to leave the observation room when Neal's actions caught his attention. Neal had pulled the Monet painting closer and was staring at it. He reached out and gently touched the exact spot where Peter had found the blood the day before. Neal pushed the painting away and dragged his hands through his hair. Before Peter could decipher the odd behavior his phone rang.
"Burke." Peter answered.
"Peter, it's Diana."
"You're working late."
"I got a call from the lab guys, they were very interested in knowing where you found that blood sample you sent to me for testing."
"Did they find a match?"
"They did. The DNA matches a murder victim from Houston, Texas."
"Texas?"
"It's not a recent murder either, 1995."
"Neal would have been eighteen." Peter muttered to himself.
"Boss, there's more. You're never going to believe the victim's name."
"What is it?"
"Robert Caffrey."
