When Neal arrived at the office the next morning, excited about the map they had found the previous day, he saw a new face walk up to Peter's office. He stopped Jones.

"Jones, tell me something. Who is that?"

"Easy, tiger. She's off limits. I already tried."

She turned at the top of the stairs, and Neal saw something.

"Art crimes, D.C."

"W-what makes you think that?" Jones asked, baffled.

"Her attaché it's from the Smithsonian. Gift of choice from D.C. Art Crimes Chief to new recruits." The woman shook hands with Peter in his office. "What's the case?"

"Above my pay grade," Jones muttered and left. Anything that reminded Jones that he did not have access to every case in the department made him grumpy. So, Jones did not know, and as far as Neal knew, Jones had access to most things that happened at their unit.

If Jones did not know, Neal was sure he would not be involved either. Art crimes tended to end up on his desk. If they did not, well, then there was a valid reason for it.

Neal sat by his desk, but he kept glancing at the secret meeting.

If he at least could get her name, or even better, a hint of the subject they were discussing. He fiddled with one of Peter's business cards. She had not seen him, and the meeting was ending. He made up his mind and returned to the elevators.

He 'stepped off' and elevator just as she pushed the glass door open to leave. She marched to the elevators and pushed the button.

"Excuse me. Do you work here?" Neal asked, putting on his confused puppy face.

"No. I don't." Polite but totally not chatty.

"No. Oh, of course, you don't. I noticed your attaché. You're D.C. Art Crimes, right?"

Even she was impressed by this.

"Very good."

Neal noted he had Jones' attention. Not good, but he could not hear them, though.

"What brings you up here?"

"Business."

Her elevator arrived, and time was running short.

"Hey, do you know where I can find Agent Burke?"

"Oh, I can help you with that. Office at the top of the stairs."

"Thank you... Agent…"

"Agent Matthews."

"Agent Matthews, yes."

The elevator door closed, and Neal walked back into the White Collar office.

"You're right, man," he confessed to Jones. "I got nothing."

"Told you so."

He aimed for Peter's office, but he was meeting him.

"Top of the mornin', Neal," Peter smiled at him.

"Apparently not," he replied, waiting for a rebuke. That did not come. "Am I late?"

"Right on time. I spoke with the Rolands."

"You tell them about the map?"

"I wanted to wait for you."

Neal smiled. This was just as it used to be.

"You're going to see them?"

"Mm-hmm." Peter moved towards the elevator Neal joined.

"You're a little giddy," he noted.

"I love puzzles," Peter grinned.

"I know you do. I've seen the New York puzzlethon trophies around the house, all three of them."

"Four."

"Oh, there's four?"

"Yeah."

"How could I forget?"

They got into the elevator.

"You didn't," Peter said. "It's new."

"Well done, Peter."

"Thanks."

"Is it as fun as chasing me?"

"No. But unless you have other plans, it will have to do." Peter sent him a curious glance.

"If you take off my anklet, I can arrange a puzzle for you." They shared a grin. "Just for fun of course. And so you don't lose your edge."

"I prefer you right where you are, thank you."

Peter looked up from his desk when he heard someone ask for him and was guided to his door.

"Agent Burke?" a woman asked and looked all giggles.

"Yes, how can I help you?"

"Agent Kramer sent me. I'm Agent Melissa Matthews. Hi."

"Oh, welcome to New York." He rose from his chair and showed her inside, and closed the door. So Kramer sent an agent. "Your boss and I go back a long way."

She sat down on the visitor's chair.

"Agent Kramer's sorry he can't be here in person, but he briefed me fully."

"He did?" Peter blinked. He believed he had been very clear about secrecy when he talked to Kramer. He also knew Kramer enough to know that he often believed he knew things best.

"I take it he wasn't supposed to," Agent Matthew said with an embarrassed smile.

"How much do you know?" Peter asked and sat down by his desk.

"You discovered a German U-Boat with an incredibly valuable cargo of art aboard; the art was destroyed in a fire, believe the fire may have been a ruse, and the art still exists."

"You know a lot."

"I'm sorry. I do."

It was not her fault, but Peter wanted to yell at Kramer. The woman in front of him seemed like one of those who chit-chatted to all and everybody, too. Was she even capable of keeping a secret? What if she met a charmer like Neal?

"Only a handful of people know about this," he said in his most grave tone. "I'd like to keep it that way."

"Understood." The woman almost giggled with excitement.

"I don't have enough evidence to open a formal investigation. However, part of the original German art manifest survived the fire. That's what I'd like Kramer to look into. Now, what I'd like you to do is simply tell Agent Kramer that I've got a manifest from the sub—"

"A manifest?" she asked. "Like a list?"

"Yes," Peter said, trying not to show how much he hated to be interrupted. "We've got one page of a manifest, so it's not a complete list. But if any of them come out on the market—"

"We'll nail them. I understand. You want me to take the list to Agent Kramer?"

Peter could not find himself trusting her enough for that. Neither did he want to make copies of the list. He regretted that he had involved Kramer. He should have waited until Hughes was back.

"No. I don't want to make copies."

"And I already know too much."

"Yes. So, just tell him about the manifest, and we'll take it from there."

"Okay," she said, smiling. She rose, and they shook hands. "Have a good day, Agent Burke."

"And to you, Agent Matthews."

She left, and while she was by the elevators, she met Neal he saw. He frowned and watched him flirt with her. Well, he would not have a clue who she was, and by his body language, she could not have told him something sensational, either.

The two brothers were sitting at each end of the long table they had met at last time.

"The overlaid wills form an image," Peter showed them. The older brother, Josh, took the wills and studied them on top of each other.

"That's the sundial in Le Monde garden."

Neal exchanged a look with Peter, who seemed to want to jump with excitement.

"We haven't done one of those in years," James sighed.

"One of those… treasure hunts?" Peter asked.

"Yep." So these two were used to the concept.

"Told you it was a map," he said to Peter.

"I didn't say it wasn't."

"Well, forget it." Josh dropped the wills on the table and rose. "I'll see you in court."

Neal stared as Josh walked out of the room. How could you not want to solve a treasure hunt?

"He's always been high-strung. You know, whatever," James said.

"Why don't we take a look at the sundial?" Neal said. He could not believe all the fun would end like this. "The real will is at the end of the hunt, right?"

"Yeah, maybe. I got to go, guys." He rose, just as blasé as his brother. "Savannah's gonna be home soon. My father's gone. We don't have to play by his rules anymore."

The father must have arranged one treasure hunt too many.

"What now?" he asked Peter.

"Log these into evidence and return them to the lawyers." Peter picked up the two wills.

"You're not even a little bit curious about solving this puzzle?"

"Of course I am, but, you know, the assistant director hasn't authorized an FBI treasure-hunting unit."

"Well, why don't we drop by the park?" Neal tried. "Just to make sure nothing illicit is afoot at the sundial."

"I can't. I have lunch with El. But you can take a look."

That was something, but he wanted to do this with Peter.

"You don't want to come?"

"Yes."

"I could use your astronomical puzzling expertise."

Peter was tempted; he could tell.

"No, I can't. I can't. I can't. El had an interview this morning. There's an opening at the Dearmitt gallery."

"How nice."

"Yeah. Next time." Peter pushed the file with the wills in his hands. "Just, you know... keep me updated."

It was hard to blame him for prioritizing his wonderful wife.

Neal walked to the sundial and called Mozzie on the way there. Good problems were solved with help.

Mozzie studied the map of the two wills.

"Fascinating. The complexity. These patterns must have taken weeks to devise. Roland is like a Copernican cross between Dan Brown and Scott Turow."

"I think these numbers are times of day," Neal said, pointing at numbers forming at the rim while you had both wills aligned. "One - thirty."

"That would be there," Mozzie said and pointed at the sundial. They both looked in the direction indicated on the sundial table. "Doesn't seem to point to anything."

"Well, everything points to something."

"Did you just steal that from my brain?" Moz asked.

"No. We're missing some detail."

"What do you think happens when the sun hits it?"

Probably nothing, Neal figured. This was not Indiana Jones.

"Four hours to find out."