Chapter 3: High in the Sky
Federal Building. Monday, April 18, 2005.
"What is it about that Braque painting that makes it so fascinating?" Peter asked. "I assume that's why you've been staring at my desk for the past few minutes."
As soon as Neal returned from his surveillance shift, Peter called him into his office. Henry had told Peter he'd already spoken with Neal. Peter was counting on his resident art expert to shed light on why Fowler was interested in a painting by a Cubist master. But from the way Neal was acting, enlightenment wouldn't be forthcoming.
"Your desk is showing its age. Isn't it time for a new one? Perhaps in oak or walnut. Italian contemporary would make a bold statement."
"Enough with the stonewalling. What aren't you telling me?" Didn't Neal realize by now that every time he deflected, Peter's internal radar pinged he wasn't going to like the answer?
"Honestly, I don't know why Adler would be interested in it, and that bothers me." Neal looked genuinely troubled. "The painting is one of Braque's early works. What Fowler's offering is far more than the black market rate."
"You're thinking about a connection to Nazi plunder, aren't you?"
Neal shrugged with a smile. "You caught me. With anything concerning Adler, Hitler clones start dancing in my head."
Peter considered for a moment. "Since he's inquiring about it, that means he doesn't believe it's part of a looted cache of art, but it may have some other connection. Keller had asked you about the painting as well. This is additional confirmation Adler was Keller's buyer although he continues to deny it. Research the painting's history and get back to me." Neal nodded but showed no inclination to leave. "Is there something else besides Nazis doing a polka in your head?"
Neal's expression became serious as he nodded. "Mozzie's missing. He was supposed to meet Janet on Sunday morning but never appeared. I spent all day looking for him—checked every place I can think of." As he described his search, Neal looked increasingly tense.
For Peter, it had the opposite effect. Not that he wanted anything to have happened to Mozzie, but for a moment he'd wondered if Neal had any connection to the Braque. Now that he knew his distraction was because of Mozzie he could breathe easier. "Mozzie's disappeared before, right?"
"Not frequently, but it's happened in the past. Still, I find it hard to believe he would stand Janet up."
"I don't suppose you've listed him as a missing person?"
Neal sighed. "I can't. You know that. Mozzie would never forgive me."
"I assume you've checked hospitals."
Neal saved him from having to say it. "Morgues, yeah, all the usual places."
"You haven't mentioned Azathoth, but I know you're thinking it."
Neal nodded. "Kidnapping seems unlikely. There's no ransom note or other message."
"I agree. It doesn't fit Azathoth's style. Do you know of anyone else who'd have Mozzie in his sights?"
"Mozzie's never mentioned any enemies to me. I don't know of any Kellers in his past, but he hasn't told me much about his life before I met him."
"I could alert the police about a person of interest. Do you have a photograph I could use?"
"No, I don't. Mozzie doesn't allow photos of himself to be taken and destroys any he finds. And you can't go to the police about this."
Neal wasn't making it easy on him. "I'd like to help, but you're really tying my hands in this."
"I know. I'm sorry. That's why I didn't call you yesterday. I knew you'd be frustrated and I'd hoped he'd show up on his own. I shouldn't have brought it up. You have enough on your plate already."
"No, you did the right thing. I'd say take some time off to look for him, but with Hagen, we need everyone on deck."
"Thanks, but I already covered every place I can think of." Neal stood up to leave.
"He'll show up, Neal. No doubt he'll invent some wildly implausible tale to explain his absence to hide the job he was on that I don't even want to think about."
#
Peter's prediction didn't come true till Tuesday morning.
Neal was finishing the morning shift of van surveillance with Travis when his cell phone rang. "Mozzie?" he asked, not daring to hope the voice matched the display.
"Neal, is that you?" Mozzie's voice had a dreamlike quality as if he were tripping.
"Yeah, it's me. Where are you? Are you okay?" Travis nudged Neal and he put his cell on speaker.
"I'm floating. Hiiii-gh in the sky . . . with the stars."
"Stars?" Neal repeated in bewilderment. It was bright sunshine outside. He glanced at Travis who looked equally baffled.
"Mozzie, this is Travis. Which stars are you seeing?"
"Is that Space Suit?"
"Yeah, he's with me. Describe the sky to us," Neal pleaded.
"I don't see the Space Suit. Is he behind the horse?"
"Horse? Are you in the country?"
Mozzie snickered. "No, silly. Pegasus, the flying horse. I'm in space, remember? There aren't any real horses in space. Oooh . . . Pretty . . ."
Neal groaned. He was definitely tripping. Travis was attempting to get a bead on his location but Mozzie was so high he could drop the phone at any moment. "Please, Mozz. Look around you. What do you see?"
"Of course! Aquarius." Mozzie started singing "Aquarius" from the musical Hair. Neal had never heard Mozzie sing before but he was surprisingly good. He had an interesting warble to his voice, if only it weren't so slurred.
"Are you on Broadway? Is that what you're trying to tell me?" but Mozzie ended the call before answering.
Rubbing his forehead, Neal asked. "What do you think? He was seeing stars. Where is it dark? Europe?" Perhaps Mozzie was on a job with Gordon Taylor after all and simply hadn't told him. If so, he'd been drinking far too much champagne.
Travis considered for a moment and shook his head. "I don't think Mozzie was seeing real stars. Aquarius and Pegasus aren't visible in the night sky in April."
"You think he was hallucinating?"
"Inconclusive, but when you mentioned being in the country, he giggled. It's logical to postulate an urban situation. We were getting a strong signal. I don't think he was calling from overseas."
"So he might have been looking at a painting of stars . . . Where could he see Pegasus and Aquarius? The planetarium?"
"That's one possibility although they're currently running a show about the Big Bang and wouldn't be featuring those constellations. Do you know of any paintings of constellations in a museum?"
Neal snapped his fingers. "Of course! Grand Central Station!"
Travis's face lit up. "That has to be it. The ceiling is painted with constellations, and now that the restoration work is completed, the effect is spectacular."
"Are Aquarius and Pegasus included in the stars?"
Travis was already researching it on his computer. He nodded. "The ceiling depicts the zodiac in October and includes them."
Neal stood up. "Is it okay if—"
Travis interrupted before he'd finished his question. "Go ahead. Diana and Jones will be coming in an hour to relieve me. Keep me informed."
Neal grabbed a taxi and ten minutes later was at Grand Central. The Beaux-Arts façade with its impressive sculptures shone in the morning sun like a vision of Xanadu. Mercury, the patron of thieves, was the central figure. Was his outstretched arm pointing the way to Mozzie?
Neal sprinted inside the Grand Concourse. It wouldn't be trivial locating him among the crowd of travelers milling about the vast space. Neal glanced up at the ceiling. Decades of tobacco smoke had been removed during the restoration work. The constellations of the zodiac stretched out in a scintillating band of gold against the cerulean blue sky. Mozzie said he looked up and saw Aquarius. Could it be that easy?
As Neal walked toward Aquarius he spotted Mozzie leaning against one of the columns and gazing up at the ceiling. Neal raced toward him, not knowing whether to shake or hug him. He wound up doing both.
Mozzie showed no surprise in seeing him. His eyes were unfocused, his glasses askew. He had several days of beard growth. His clothes were rumpled but not torn. No blood on them—a good sign. Neal checked the back of his head, while Mozzie patted Neal's arm in a random gesture. "You came to stargaze with me. How nice. They're particularly beautiful tonight."
Neal couldn't find any bumps or bruises. "Do you know what day it is?"
He turned to look at Neal with surprise. "What an absurd question. We're in the Age of Aquarius. That's all that matters," and he broke out once more in song.
Neal shushed the former-shadow-dweller-turned-exhibitionist and led him out the building.
Mozzie offered no resistance. "Where are we going? To look at more stars?"
He should see a doctor, but Neal knew once Mozzie was in his right mind, he'd never forgive him for that. "A safe place so you can rest. Would you like to come to the loft or your bunker?"
He shook his head. "Janet. Take me to Janet's." He struggled to free himself from Neal's arm. "I have to see Janet now!"
"We'll go to her place," Neal said soothingly. "I'll give her a call in the taxi." Janet had an apartment in Chelsea, not far from the costume warehouse where she worked. Neal had been there once before. She reacted ecstatically to the news, saying she'd meet them there.
Janet's two-floor apartment reflected her creative personality. It was in a former warehouse that had been converted into lofts. The exposed brick walls were covered with hand-painted silk wall hangings. Fanciful flower lamps in bright colors hung from the tall ceiling. The furniture was comfortable leather. No artificial fabrics for Janet. A narrow cast-iron spiral staircase led up to her bedroom.
Mozzie refused to lie down and took immediate possession of the leather couch. Janet prepared him a glass of Moroccan mint tea with a generous dollop of honey which he drank greedily. During the taxi ride, he'd become much more lucid but hadn't divulged anything about what happened to him.
"You can't remember anything?" Janet asked as she spread a throw decorated with dragonflies over him.
He shook his head despondently. "I remember waking up on Saturday, thinking it was a beautiful morning. I went out to take a stroll and . . ." His voice trailed off. He tapped a few times on his forehead. "There's nothing else there. The next thing I remember I was in a cab with Neal."
"You don't remember calling me?" Neal asked. "Singing 'Aquarius'? How you arrived at Grand Central Station?" At Mozzie's headshake, Neal slouched deeper into his chair.
"Have some wine," Janet said, handing him a hand-painted wine glass. "We need something stronger than tea." Janet must have painted the glass. It couldn't be easy to find yellow-faced bee wine glasses.
Mozzie looked longingly at their wine. "Can't I have some too?"
"No!" Neal said, wanting to shake him again. "Do you have any idea how worried we've been about you?"
Grumbling, he put down his tea and twisted the throw in his hands. "I've made a careful analysis of what you've told me and there can be only one answer." He shifted his eyes back and forth between the two of them. "Brace yourselves. I don't want to alarm you unduly, but you should be prepared. They may come back."
"They?" Neal asked cautiously. "Who are you referring to?"
Mozzie leaned forward. "The aliens," he whispered. "They must have heard about my slime research and wanted to know how much I knew. They took me to their spaceship and probed my mind with their alien devices." An expression of beatific joy suffused his face. "I was abducted by extraterrestrials!"
#
Peter hung up the phone with a chuckle. Mozzie believed he was abducted by aliens. Of course. Why hadn't they realized that earlier?
Now Neal could stop worrying. It was unfortunate Mozzie refused to see a doctor. In Peter's view, Janet's holistic medicine practitioner didn't count. But apparently there was nothing wrong with him aside from the amnesia. If only he'd forgotten how to be a con man, Peter's life would be so much simpler.
Peter was inclined to agree with Neal. Mozzie's amnesia was most likely caused by his lamentable habit of experimenting with drugs. Since he refused to have his blood analyzed, they'd never know for sure. Neal was clearly embarrassed by Mozzie's drug use, and Peter didn't make an issue out of it when Neal excused it as being only for scientific research. Peter knew better. Mozzie was planning a con and got burnt. Hopefully, it would teach him a lesson.
Peter readily agreed when Neal asked him if he could stay with Janet to help Mozzie. Sara was due to arrive and it was just as well that Neal wasn't around for their meeting. Since Sara was Sterling-Bosch's lead investigator on the Raphael stolen drawing case, Peter wasn't surprised to hear from her. But why did she want to speak with him alone, even specifically requesting that Neal not be included?
That was a puzzle he still hadn't solved when he greeted her at the elevator bank. Sara appeared unusually serious. There was none of the lighthearted banter he'd grown to expect from her. Peter assumed the cause was the theft of the drawing. Had someone within Sterling-Bosch been fingered?
When they entered his office, Peter gestured for her to take a seat and closed the door behind her. "Bosch mentioned you'd asked for a new assignment, and you've got a big one now. As I explained on the phone, I don't know how helpful I can be. D.C. Art Crimes is in charge of the case."
She pulled her chair close to his desk. "I'm traveling to Boston later today where I'll meet their team. The reason I asked to speak with you was that I know you've been working on the case of St. George and the Dragon, the Raphael painting that was stolen last summer. We're evaluating the two thefts to see if they're connected. Some feel that the same thief stole both."
"Same artist, both works were stolen on the East Coast . . . it's a tempting theory." Peter stopped to consider. "One of the most obvious parallels is that Sterling-Bosch is the insurer in each case. I assume Bosch filled you in about his concerns of an Ydrus mole."
Sara nodded. "When the first one was uncovered, I was shocked. The likelihood that there's a second one is intolerable." She paused and took a breath. "Mr. Bosch told me I was under suspicion for a while too."
"We're also concerned about an Ydrus informant working within the Bureau. It's something we all have to watch out for now."
"Rumors and speculation make for a poisonous atmosphere." Sara looked uneasy and increasingly uncomfortable. "In my current role, I'm forced to ask some questions that may seem insensitive."
"Go ahead, Sara. What's on your mind?"
She hesitated. "God, this is awkward. The drawing was stolen on Wednesday afternoon, April 13. Was Neal working in the office that day?"
Peter frowned. "Is Neal under suspicion?"
Sara nodded unhappily. "In an investigation such as this, we have a list of possible suspects we have to verify as part of the review process. Neal's name was flagged."
"Why?" Peter demanded.
"D.C. Art Crimes had alerted Sterling-Bosch at the beginning of the investigation into St. George and the Dragon that Neal had been at the museum around the time of the robbery. He was included in the person of interest list we received from the FBI."
Peter stared at her, shocked. "Neal provided information to help the FBI investigation. He's never been a suspect in the case. And you're telling me his name is flagged at Sterling-Bosch? That's outrageous." He felt his anger boiling to the surface and clamped down on it. Sara was simply the messenger. He should be grateful to her for letting him know. This was a matter to bring up with his former mentor, Philip Kramer.
"I only found out about it when I reviewed the earlier Raphael case this week. Since the thief has never been caught, Neal's still on the list."
"Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I'll speak with Art Crimes about the misunderstanding." He pulled up the timesheet database to check Neal's status. "For the record, Neal was at the office the entire day on April 13. According to the information I received, the theft took place sometime between ten o'clock in the morning and two o'clock in the afternoon, so you can safely cross him off your list."
Sara brushed her hair back. "Thank you." She hesitated. "I recently learned of Neal's history, or at least the information about him on the Interpol database."
"Neal hasn't discussed it with you?"
She shook her head.
"May I ask how you learned? Is that also in Sterling-Bosch's files?"
Sara flushed. "No, it's not. Bryan told me about it in February when I was appointed to be Weatherby's liaison. He told me he was concerned that if I associated with Neal, my career would be damaged."
Peter started to speak, but she stopped him. "I know you're aware that Bryan and I were in a relationship. When he brought it up, I thought he was motivated by jealousy. He claimed he'd researched Neal when he heard about the theft of the diamond earrings at Regnier's." She paused. "This isn't your concern, but you should know that Bryan and I have broken up. It wasn't about Neal. It's just . . . we're not as compatible as I thought we were."
How much of this had been Bryan seeking to eliminate a potential rival? The person of interest list had come from the FBI, not Bryan. Peter reminded himself Sara didn't have to confide in him. There was no point in venting at her. None of this was her fault. Her look of distress prompted him to say more than he would have normally. "I won't deny that Neal had a troubled past. There are extenuating circumstances that someday he may discuss with you, but that's his call. Since you're an investigator, you should know that Neal received immunity from prosecution in an arrangement to work with the FBI. Since I recruited him, his performance has been exemplary. Neal's turned his life around and I'm very proud of him for having done so."
Some of the tension left her face. "When I heard that he was appointed to the Interpol art crimes task force, I figured it was something like that. I'd appreciate it if you don't tell Neal that I know about his background. I don't want him to think I was checking up on him."
Peter was glad Neal was away. He needed to decompress before contacting Kramer and he didn't want Neal around for what would be a difficult call to make.
#
"Petey, it's good to hear from you."
Peter winced when he heard Kramer use that nickname. His former mentor had been calling him that ever since Peter had been his probie. He'd disliked it then and it rankled even more now.
Peter's initial reaction had been of disbelief when Sara told him Kramer had placed Neal on a person of interest list for the theft of St. George and the Dragon. But as he reviewed the sequence of events, it helped explain how Kramer could have justified it. Neal was in D.C. visiting his relatives when the painting was stolen. Peter was also in town on business and had been notified of the theft. At the time Kramer didn't make an issue of Neal having been seen in the gallery. Neal admitted to Peter he'd once considered stealing the painting, which was supposedly Kate's favorite, in an effort to impress her. Neal and Mozzie had drawn up preliminary plans and Mozzie had gone so far as to research the guards at the museum.
When he heard about the theft, Neal persuaded Mozzie to finger the guard who appeared most susceptible to bribery. Peter provided the information to Kramer and was surprised when Kramer, rather than thanking him, shut him out of the case. Was this the reason? Peter would soon find out.
"I had to notify Sterling-Bosch. Look at it from my perspective. A known art thief is seen in the museum the day a painting is stolen. I would be reprimanded for incompetence if I hadn't added Neal to the list."
"But Neal's reformed. He's been a tremendous asset to the Bureau."
"I don't deny his achievements, but you can't lose sight of who he is." Phil was playing it cool, keeping his tone reasonable as if he were trying to explain the way of the world to an unruly child.
Peter suppressed his own sputtering emotions to react in kind. "Once a con, always a con—is that what you believe?"
He could hear Kramer's sigh on the phone. "The recidivism rate indicates that's likely the case. You remember that C.I. who worked for me when you were my probie? He was the one who helped out with my son's little league team. He's back in prison now. The old life was a siren call he couldn't deny. You need to accept that sooner or later the same thing will probably happen to Neal."
"That's not going to happen."
"How can you be so sure?" Kramer paused. Peter could hear the creaking of his office chair as he rocked. "I wasn't going to bring this up, but it's better you hear it from me than someone else. I like to follow the news about you—after all, you're Gotham's cop and robber team—and I heard that your brother married Neal's aunt. Now that you're Neal's uncle, you need to be even more circumspect."
"You're telling me you're worried about my career?"
"No, I'm more concerned about you as a friend. When you have to take Neal down—and it's only a matter of time until you'll be forced to—he won't simply be your colleague but he'll be a relative with ties to your family. You're telling me that Neal wasn't involved with the theft of the Raphael, and you may be right. We haven't found any evidence to implicate him, but I stand my ground on him being a person of interest, and you'd be well advised to treat him the same way. I didn't include you in the investigation because you were too personally involved. You would have done the same if you'd been in my shoes."
When Peter hung up, his mood was as dark as the coffee in his mug. Kramer was unswayable. As long as he remained like that, what kind of long-term prospects would Neal have at the Bureau? What could he or Peter ever do that would change Kramer's opinion?
Sara had told Peter that Neal had been placed on Sterling-Bosch's person of interest list for the Raphael drawing theft. Peter had developed a strong working relationship with Sterling-Bosch's CEO. Peter hoped he'd be more reasonable than Kramer. He picked up the phone to find out.
Notes: Mozzie's abduction theory may not prove to be correct but I don't want to burst his balloon too quickly. He'll discover what really happened in a few chapters.
