Chapter Ten
"Wait, Dessa!" Peter called after her as she was walking. He started to walk after her and he motioned for everyone else to follow him. As he caught up to her he said "I know you might not want to do this, but I think you can help with the case too. Anything that you can remember about Sorlie can help us find him. Will you come with us to our office?"
Dessa looked to Neal, who appeared hopeful that she would come. It would be easier for him if she was there. She nodded her head at Peter and said, "Sure. Just let me talk to my boss quickly and go change. You can wait outside if you'd like – I'm sure you've all spent more time in here then you'd care to." She looked down when she said this, sure that they thought little of her as a person. But she didn't think less of herself, so she picked her head up with pride and started walking in the direction of her boss. Jones looked at her and saw her pride in herself. He was surprised that someone in this business had that, but he was beginning to see that not all exotic dancers fit a cliché, and he was happy to see that she liked who she was.
Neal, Peter, Jones, Mozzie, and Elizabeth all walked outside. It was now midday, sunny, and quite warm. "Well, hon," Elizabeth said, addressing her husband, "I think I'll head back home. I don't think you need me at the office, and to be honest, I don't want to be there when Neal starts to talk about that stuff."
Peter nodded and gave his wife a hug and kiss. "I don't know how long I'll be. It's already noon and we have a lot to do. I might not make it home tonight, but I'll call you either way and let you know." He turned to Mozzie, "Are you coming to the office or can Elizabeth give you a ride somewhere? I think you may be of some help; you said Neal had PTSD, right? I don't know if he's repressed anything, but maybe you can help him if he has. And if anything, you can be there for him as his friend."
Mozzie didn't want to be in a federal building and he hesitated, but only for a moment: "I'll come. Anything to help Neal."
Elizabeth gave Mozzie a smile and started walking towards her car. Just then Dessa came out of the Starlight, this time dressed in street clothes – a pair of dark wash, straight leg jeans, a white tank, and a matte black, leather, slim fit bomber jacket. Neal put one hand in his pants pocket and made his arm into a handle. Dessa ensconced both of her hands inside the crook of his elbow and laid her head lightly on his shoulder as they walked to Peter's car. Peter noticed that their comfort with each other was just like how he and El were with each other. He was happy that his friend had a woman like Dessa in his life. It was sad to think that their comfort with each other was borne out of tragic circumstances, but no matter the cause, it was still good to see Neal so at ease with someone that he wasn't running a con on.
On the ride to the office, Neal, who sat in between his two friends in the backseat of the car, stared out the window, his mind flashing back to moments when he was with Marty. There he was, 9 years old and Marty taking him to a gun range to teach him how to shoot. Then back further, 7 years old and he met Dessa for the first time when Marty took them both to Fenway for their first baseball game. Now jumping ahead to 12 years old, being taken away from his mother and forced to live with Marty. 10, and he told his father what Marty had done; his father shoving him away and telling him that he was making up stories. 13, and he was broken down and weary, crying with Dessa in a locked basement. 15, and he was bigger and stronger now, and he tried to fight Marty, but Marty was bigger and stronger still, and he didn't stand a chance. 16, and he'd escaped from Marty and met Mozzie on a South Boston street. That was a good day. Neal quickly looked over at Mozzie and then went back to staring out the window. He was going to think about Mozzie right now, and not Marty. The car stopped and he recognized that they were at Federal Plaza. He shut his eyes tightly as the anxiety welled up within him. He felt satin-soft lips on his cheek and he opened his eyes to Dessa giving him a quick encouraging kiss before they had to get out of the car.
"Ready, Neal?" Peter asked in a quiet voice.
Neal nodded his head yes and they all got out of the car and walked to the White Collar Unit of the FBI building. The same walls and chairs and desks and transparent rooms that Neal had grown to love were now giving him severe anxiety. His hands started to shake slightly and he began taking shallow and quick, yet still quiet, breaths. He shook his head and got himself under control. He was going to do this.
Peter opened the door of the conference room and held it open for Neal, Dessa, Mozzie, and Jones. It was crowded because Diana, as well as Jackson, Draper, and Philips, were already there discussing the case. "Hi Boss," she said, "we're trying to figure out what this alpha-numeric code means. And we've got a file worked up on Sorlie." She nodded 'hello' to Neal as she slid the disc from the new case across the table to Peter.
Neal intercepted it and looked to his partner. "I know what this is." The agents from the CACU looked at each other in surprise and Draper gave Neal a look of slight suspicion. She was extremely protective of children and given the horror that was on the disc, and given that she didn't know how this Criminal Informant quite figured into the case, she wasn't going to trust Neal right away. Neal didn't notice her accusatory stare and instead he addressed Peter: "Marty was smart, he kept insurance on every client." Neal said the word "client" with an emphasis of disgust. "He kept tapes of everything and the code on the tape, or in this case disc, will match up with a master sheet that has the names of the clients." He continued, reading the code that was written with permanent marker on the disc, "So LUC121011PFb.14 stands for the girl's name, the date of this particular trick – or in other words, rape – and then a code for the occupation of the john and then the shelf and number on the shelf."
A few of the agents in the room looked like they hadn't kept up, so Neal explained further. "Okay, so 'LUC' is the first three letters of the little girl's last name. 121011 stands for 'the 12th of October, 2011'. 'PF' stands for 'Police/Fire' – so whoever the john is, he is either a police officer or a firefighter – and 'b.14' means the shelves that Marty keeps these recordings on – shelf b, disc number 14."
Neal spoke the words flatly, matter-of-factly – all the while staring at a nick in the table that resembled the face from Edvard Munch's "The Scream". He sat down and Dessa sat in the chair next to him. Mozzie hovered for a few moments behind Neal, and then he sat down too. Peter clasped Neal on the shoulder briefly as a way of thanks and then turned to Diana. "Diana, what do you have on Sorlie?"
Neal braced himself. He didn't really want to know.
"He's in the Bureau of Investigative Service, last year he made Captain Detective in the Drug Control Unit. He has his eye on on being a Deputy Superintendent."
At Diana's words Neal shook his head, as if to throw off a bad dream, Dessa had a look of deep disgust on her face, and Peter was dowright livid. He didn't know how this guy had gotten away with what he did for so long, and how he'd made his way up the ranks like that, but it wasn't going to last if he had anything to say about it. "Okay Draper - ? Get going on running a missing persons search on girls aged 9-13 who have the last name starting 'Luc'. Jackson and Phillips, keep working up what you can on Sorlie and work the angle of who sent the disc. If we can find that, maybe we can find where Sorlie is."
The three agents stood up and were about to go out the door when Dessa said, "Peter – may I call you Peter? I think I know who sent it." She looked over to Neal for encouragement and he nodded in silent agreement, "We think it was Daw Zeyar, Marty's housekeeper and our unofficial caretaker."
Diana raised an eye at the unusual name. Peter caught it and thought the same thing she did, "Is that her full name?" He asked Dessa and Neal.
Neal shook his head, "No, 'Daw' was just a term of respect, like 'Aunt' or 'Miss'. I don't actually know her first name. But Zeyar is her last name."
"And why did all she do was send a disc? 20 years ago she sent a tape… of you, Neal, or at least if she's the one that sent the disc then she's probably the one that sent the tape. It had written on it the same thing that the disc did 'Please help this child'. But if she knew that all this was going on and didn't do more to stop it, she's an accessory."
"No!" Dessa yelled, suddenly furious. This was the thing about cops, you try to do the right thing and then they lock you up for it. "She didn't do anything wrong." Dessa continued in a calmer voice.
Neal nodded in agreement – "She's right, Peter. Daw didn't do anything wrong. She was the only one who showed us any sort of care the whole time we were with Marty. And there's a reason she didn't do more. She was an illegal immigrant from Burma and I remember her telling us that she had two children back in Burma that she was trying to get over here. And she was a political protester with the ABSDF – the All Burma Student's Democratic Front – so if she was deported then she'd likely be killed for protesting the new Myanmar government, and then what would happen to her children? She used to tell us stories of what the government did to protesters; they took out whole families, Peter."
Peter raised both of his arms slightly, his hands palm down, and flicked his wrists a couple times in an "it's okay" gesture. "Alright, we won't charge her for anything. But if she's an illegal then I doubt she's going to turn up in the white pages." He turned to Phillips and Jackson, "But run the name anyway, see if anything comes up."
The three CACU detectives left the room to work on their assigned tasks. Now it was just Peter, Diana and Jones, and Neal, Dessa, and Mozzie. "Okay," Peter said, "Neal, Dessa, is it okay if Jones and Diana are in the room for this? They can take notes and go check on things as they come along."
"Yes, it's okay." Neal said. Dessa echoed her consent as well.
"Alright, let's start at the beginning."
"The beginning?" Neal asked.
"Yes," Peter responded, "what's your name? What's your real name?"
