Chapter 10

Sara took the phone from Elizabeth's shaking hand.

'What is it, Peter?' Sara asked trying to remain calm

'Sara, it's Neal. He's just been arrested'

'Oh my God. What about Hope?' she asked, concerned

Peter looked down at the baby sleeping in his arms. 'She's fine, I'm holding her right now. Listen, I'm going to bring her over there and I'm going to go check on Neal'

'I'm coming with you' said Sara, without a moment's hesitation

'They may not let you see him' warned Peter

'I know you'll find a way to get me in. Hurry Peter' she added before hanging up

Peter arrived a half hour later with Hope in tow and brought her into the house. The women were all waiting around for news about Neal when Peter walked in.

'Stirling says they got an anonymous tip that one of the stolen original paintings was in Neal's storage and when they searched the apartment, they found the sweatshirt that had been used on all of the heists. Someone's done a damn good job of framing Neal and we have to find out who it is if we're going to get him out of there'

Diana piped up 'Boss, why don't I go back to Sara and Neal's place and keep poking around those files for a little while'

He took her aside 'That would be great, Diana. And you may want to tidy up a bit. Stirling and his newbies made a real mess and I don't want Sara going home to that. Jones is still there – maybe you too can keep working until I get back'

Sara fed Hope, handed her over to Elizabeth and promptly left with Peter hoping she would get a few minutes with Neal. He had been brought to a local precinct for processing before being transferred to the courthouse for his arraignment.

Sara shook as she sat in the car and willed herself to calm down for Neal's sake. He would be upset and worried about her and Hope and she had to reassure him that they were both ok. She asked Peter to tell her everything about the case so far, what they knew about the suspect, who they had ruled out and any suspicions Peter might have. She was going to get involved now because it had all gotten very personal – someone was messing with the man she loved, the man she was set to marry in less than 48 hours and she wasn't going to put up with it.

They arrived shortly after midnight and Sara climbed out of the car, calm and focussed. She knew what she needed to do but before she began, she needed to see that Neal was alright.

Peter and Sara walked into the 20th precinct on West 82nd and Peter flashed his badge at the uniform who was at the desk.

'I'm here to see Neal Caffrey. He was brought it about an hour ago' he said, very officially

'Someone will be with you in a minute' said the desk sergeant

Peter looked at Sara who, remarkably, was keeping it together.

'Agent Burke, right this way please' said a uniformed officer who appeared from the back

He led Peter and Sara to a small meeting room with a table and two chairs. Peter sat and Sara paced and they waited about three minutes before the door opened and Neal walked in, looking haggard and pale.

His face lit up briefly when he saw Sara there and without a moment's hesitation, he walked towards her, hugging her as if a force was pulling them together. After a moment, Neal pulled away into look in her eyes.

'I'm sorry' he said, contrite

'You have nothing to be sorry about, Neal' said Sara stoically although she thought her voice might be shaking

Neal turned to Peter. 'The unit is sending a lawyer to represent you tomorrow at your arraignment' said Peter as he stood

Neal just nodded afraid his voice would betray his emotions.

'You haven't called anyone since you've been here, right?' Peter asked Neal

'No, I knew you were on your way so…'

'Good. Save it – you might need to call me later and they will only let you make one call. That way, you can let me know what time your court appearance is tomorrow.'

'Ok' agreed Neal

He was listening to Peter but he kept looking at Sara who was showing no sign of weakness or emotion.

'Neal' she finally said 'don't give up, I'm not. We're getting married in less than two days and if you think I'm going to let a small thing like you being in jail keep you from showing up, you're sadly mistaken' she said with a serious face

Neal smiled at her.

'This is only the second time I've been away from Hope for a night. Will you tell her how much I love her and that I'll be home as soon as I can' asked Neal

He could see a flash of emotion in Sara's eyes but she remained steadfast.

'Why don't we just wait and you can tell her yourself' said Sara

Neal turned to face Peter. 'They said I'm being moved to the courthouse before morning. I'll let you know what time my court appearance is at as soon as I know'

'Neal, this isn't over. Diana and Jones are still working away and we're gonna find this guy, don't you worry'

Neal, who still had Sara in his arms, gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and she gave him a weak smile as the door to the room opened and the police officer who had escorted them in announced that it was time to go back to the holding cell. Neal thanked Peter once again and said goodbye as he was taken away.

Peter put an arm around Sara and she began to cry against his shoulder. After a moment, they left and headed back to Brooklyn and neither spoke a word until they arrived on DeKalb Avenue.

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Neal lay on his cot, arms folded under his head, staring into space. Unfortunately, this was an all too familiar pose for the man who had spent four years in confinement. Even though he was in a police precinct and not a federal penitentiary, the bars and sparse furnishings were enough to bring back a flood of memories of a life Neal had happily left behind.

He wondered how a conman such as himself could have become ensnared in such a web of deceit. How could he have been outsmarted by someone whose only goal was to punish Neal just for doing his job as a CI. It was obvious that this person had waited until the most disruptive time to make his final move; he wanted this to hurt Neal and those he loved and it did.

It was around 2 in the morning. Peter and Sara had left a little more than an hour ago. He knew Sara was upset and yet she had appeared so strong when he held her in his arms. He should have been the one comforting her yet, in that instant, he had felt her strength and courage seeping into him, telling him without the use of a single word that somehow, they would find a way out. He thought of Hope, beautiful, precious, innocent Hope who didn't deserve to have an absentee dad. He pushed the thought away, he had to get back to his family; they deserved to be together.

He wasn't certain how or when it happened but he could no longer imagine his life without Sara as his partner – she was the strongest and most determined person he had ever met. He counted backwards from Saturday at four o'clock – the wedding was 38 hours away! How would he ever get out of here in time if he couldn't even contribute to finding the culprit? He took a deep breath - he had a lot of people in his corner, Mozzie, Peter, Jones, Diana and of course Sara, his rock. He had to believe that they would do what needed doing to spring him before Saturday afternoon. He just hated feeling so helpless.

He finally slipped into a restless and troubled sleep. He could hear sounds coming from the precinct's reception area as people came in and out. The precinct had a cellblock of approximately twelve individual cells. He could hear one guy from the drunk tank singing some obscure Irish song and every few minutes just as Neal nodded off, he would start singing again.

Neal drifted in and out of sleep. He dreamt of Sara standing under a beautiful arch of flowers - she seemed to be looking around for him. He could see her but she couldn't see or hear him and he struggled to let her know he was there. He woke with a start as his roommate in the next cell started on another verse of 'When Irish eyes are smiling'.

After a while, he decided to use the time to review his wedding vows. He had the written text safely tucked away at home where Sara wouldn't find it but he hadn't yet totally memorized it. He struggled to remember what he had written and after a few minutes, he fell into a fitful sleep once again. This time he dreamt he was holding Hope and she was smiling up at him. Suddenly, Hope was no longer in his arms and he found himself in a large grassed area and he was hitting a golf ball into the faraway ocean. He woke suddenly when he heard some commotion from the front desk as someone was brought in. The dream was fresh in his mind – why golf he wondered, he had never played golf in his life except for that time he hit a golf ball off a rooftop when they were investigating that bank thief, the Architect.

He looked out towards the reception area; it was dawn, he could see some daylight coming through the bars of his cell.

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Sara had wanted to get back to searching the case files the minute they got back from seeing Neal but Peter had convinced her to stay over with Hope, get a good night's sleep and head back to their apartment first thing in the morning. At six o'clock, Hope started to stir and Sara got dressed quickly, fed her daughter and was ready to go in 30 minutes, holding back from knocking on Peter's bedroom door. Luckily, Peter was getting up just as she finished getting dressed and Elizabeth followed them both downstairs.

'Sara, why don't you leave Hope with me today? Now that she takes formula, it's a lot easier to care for her for a longer period of time' said Elizabeth, taking the baby from Sara's arms.

'What about all the wedding stuff for tomorrow?' asked Sara 'You've got to be there when they come to set up the garden today' answered Sara

Elizabeth looked at her, puzzled

'I know what you're thinking' said Sara 'but the wedding is happening tomorrow and Neal will be there so everything has to be ready'

'If that's what you want, Sara, I'll make sure everything is ready and don't worry about Hope. Between June and I, we'll take care of her; you go do what you need to do to help Neal'

Logically, Sara wasn't sure what more she could possibly do than what had already been done by Peter, Neal, Jones and Diana but she had to do something and she had to believe she could make a difference. She kissed her daughter goodbye and followed Peter out to the car.

She barely spoke all the way to Riverside Drive and Peter didn't push it. He was trying to hatch a plan to spring Neal and he was coming up empty. As soon as they got to June's, he was going to call Hughes and see what could be done at that end. But there was substantial evidence against Neal – his forgeries left at the site of the thefts, the original painting found in his storage unit and the damn sweatshirt Stirling's men had found under Hope's mattress. Neal and Peter had searched the apartment thoroughly but they never thought someone would be warped enough to stash evidence under a baby's mattress.

Until they knew who to focus their attention on, they were helpless. Peter remained convinced that the answer was in one of those case files. They had maybe half a dozen cases left to look through and when they arrived, Diana and Jones were already at work and they had brought coffee for everyone.

They both hugged Sara as she walked in and she pulled up a chair, grabbed a case file and got to work with the rest of them. Mozzie arrived within minutes and sat at the table as he poured himself a glass of wine. He wasn't sure how he could help but he was ready to jump into action as soon as he was needed to get his buddy out of jail.

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Neal was pacing his holding cell waiting to be called in to his hearing and his mind was in overdrive. Although he didn't have any case files in front of him, he could remember every single one of the criminals they had investigated over the past four years and he began to categorize them in his mind.

Neal believed that there were three major types of criminals in white collar crime. There were the opportunists, the violent thieves and those with huge egos who did it for the thrill and who loved to outsmart the authorities. He began to place all the criminals he and Peter had chased into one or the other of the categories.

The opportunists were those thieves who carried out thefts because of the situation they were in. They weren't career criminals, they were simply at the right (or wrong) place at the right (or wrong) time. He immediately thought of Juliana's uncle Gary who had stolen her Haustenberg and of Sullivan who had covered his tracks leading back to the bad batch of Zybax and Jennings, the corrupt politician who took advantage of his position of power and better yet, Luke Donovan, the spineless adoption lawyer. This type of criminal didn't fit the profile in this situation.

The violent criminals were the most dangerous – they were impetuous and often irrational. They didn't care if they had to physically hurt or even kill someone who got in their way. They would not take the time to plot revenge; they would rather be in your face than in the shadows waiting patiently to trip you up. Ryan Wilkes came to mind as did Matthew Keller or even that guy, Ghovat, who had smuggled his loot in the designer dress. He didn't think that this was the type of criminal they were looking for either.

And finally, there were the criminals with big egos - like him - who took pleasure in outsmarting the authorities and who goaded the police, taking satisfaction in the art of the crime. These were criminals like the Dutchman, Curtis Hagan or Scott Rivers who was a brilliant kid but didn't have a vengeful bone in his body.

He was convinced that whoever had plotted against him was someone who hated to be outsmarted – someone Neal must have ticked off during the investigation. The person they were looking for was not only brilliant but also had a vengeful streak and might have done time but never forgot that Neal had contributed to putting him away.

Finally, he thought of the Architect, Edward Walker. He was a piece of work. Neal remembered listening in on his interrogation. Walker was adamant that he had an army of lawyers and that no snot nosed CI was going to be successful in putting him away. Walker had a huge ego and a vengeful streak; a lethal combination. He started to wonder how long he had been put away for. This carefully constructed con to frame Neal was just the type of thing a guy like the Architect would carry out... Suddenly, he flashed back to his bizarre dream – was it a coincidence, he wondered. There's no such thing, he thought.

'I need to make a phone call!' said Neal

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They had been working for about five hours and Mozzie offered to go out and pick up lunch for everyone. Diana was researching the corrupt politician Jennings; Jones was re-reading the case involving Ford, June's old friend, Peter was on the phone with Hughes and Sara was looking over the files from the bank robberies carried out by the Architect.

Sara remembered Neal talking about this case – how the thief, Edward Walker, had been a seemingly upstanding businessman who had successfully carried out bank heists in several cities. Neal had been particularly proud of the fact that he had been the one to uncover his identity by using the calling card Walker left at all his crime scenes. It had simply read 'The Architect' and Walker had used a very unusual font for the 'A', one that matched the signature of a Russian artist that Walker had a particular affection for. Neal had matched up the initials and that had led the FBI straight to Walker.

Walker seemed to have the right type of profile, thought Sara as she continued to read. The interrogation transcripts showed that he was particularly incensed that a CI with a criminal past, and a young cocky one at that, had been the one to figure out his identity after he had managed to escape recognition in Boston, Chicago and Dallas. She continued reading. This guy was well educated, a graduate from the University of Colorado.… She stopped.

'Guys, I think I might have something here' said Sara 'Edward Walker, the Architect. He was really pissed off that a lowly CI had figured out his identity and he's a graduate from the University of Colorado. Oh, wait a minute, never mind, he got five years so he's still in jail, according to this'

Jones was busy typing in some information on his laptop.

'No, he is not' he said with emphasis 'The guy was released last month for good behavior'

'That's him. I'm sure of it' said Peter triumphantly 'Jones, where is he now'

'Current address: 1789 West 48th in Battery Park' said Jones as he continued typing

Peter's phone rang.

'Peter, I think it's the Architect' said Neal, out of breath

'We're on it, Neal. Hang tight!'

TBC