Peter knew better than to ask *how* Neal had managed to get in good with Detective Ryan, he simply acknowledged that there was no longer tension between them and hoped that the harmony would last at least as long as the case did.
Diana had finished helping with the setup in the spare office and now the seven of them – Peter, Kate, Rick, Neal, Diana, Javier and Kevin – were standing at the murder board in the bullpen staring at it in silence while Kate wrote up the current timeline. Rick had barely been able to conceal his disappointment that Peter didn't have as much pull as Jordan Shaw had; no smart-boards for the White Collar unit but they did have a secure connection to the FBI database.
"So Lanie tells us that time of death was sometime between ten PM and midnight, she'll be able to narrow it down once she's had a chance to do an autopsy. This guy-" she taped up a still from the security footage, the unknown from the lobby, "-is our only lead so far. Unless you guys have something on these forgeries?"
Peter stepped forward and picked up two magnetic bulldog clips, attaching photos of the two men they had identified in the current forgery ring.
"These two have been linked to the series of thefts-and-replacements we've been following for six months. They've stolen at least ten to twelve million dollars worth of artwork that we know of – these are just the reported thefts where the owners of the works knew the paintings well enough to recognise a forgery, or there were clues that a break-in had occurred that tipped them off to the replacements. We're still trying to find a link between all of the victims but it's hard – they all worked in different parts of the city, all attended different churches, social events and only half of them have school-aged kids."
"The only link seems to be that they collect high-end art." Neal put in. "But we can't even connect the artworks that have been stolen; they range from pre-Renaissance portraits to one of Andy Warhol's original soup cans; purchased from all over the world through different auction houses, in a few cases from the artists themselves."
"Someone has eclectic taste." Diana commented.
"Or a very particular set of buyers. Although, we can't seem to find any of the pieces – that's the strangest part... they've all just vanished into the void and don't seem to have been on-sold." Peter finished for her.
"Why the hell would someone be stealing works like this if not to sell them?" Ryan asked.
"Well, a few of the pieces I allegedly stole have never turned up. Some thieves like to keep things for themselves. Either that or they've been fenced very quietly a long time after the initial disappearance. Sometimes you become aware that you've kicked over a few too many rocks and you're on someone's radar, so you go to ground. Other times the originals get sold as copies or reproductions so the actual owners are unaware that they've got two or three million dollars worth of art on their walls or in their entryway. It also affords the original thief an opportunity to steal the piece again without the new owners caring too much – people never insure reproductions and very rarely include them in itemised police reports."
Neal looked around the room at the gobsmacked police officers.
"Or so I've heard." he finished, taking a step back and attempting to blend into the background, suddenly uncomfortable being in the spotlight.
"Which do you think is more likely, Caffrey?" Beckett asked, stepping around Peter to look at him properly.
The rest of the team turned and looked at him as he tried to turn into a chameleon, pressing himself against the brick wall and glancing from person to person like a rabbit in a trap, before taking a deep breath and responding, shoulders slumping.
"I don't know. I'd need to know more about a potential suspect to tell you what they're more likely to have done. Who wants coffee?" He sidestepped neatly around Diana and headed for the break-room, leaving a small crowd of law enforcement officers to scratch their heads and consider their options.
..
..
..
Beckett was staring at the murder board, having entrusted a couple of leads to Peter, Diana, Ryan and Esposito. Rick had wandered off somewhere, presumably looking for lunch, leaving Beckett alone in the bullpen – or so she thought.
"Cream, no sugar?" Neal asked, appearing at her shoulder and making Kate jump so high she almost upset the two cups Neal was carrying.
"Damn! How do you *do*that?" she demanded, one hand on her throat and the other on her gun.
"Practice. Lots and lots of practice, plus expensive shoes. Coffee?"
"Thanks, Caffrey."
"Any ideas yet, detective?"
"We've got a couple of leads, Peter and Diana are checking a few things back at the Bureau and my boys are following up with a couple of witnesses back at the scene."
"What about the writer?"
"Castle?"
"Yeah, ever since he got back here he's been hovering around you and glaring at me every time I talk to you. What's going on with you two?"
"With me and Castle? No, nothing's going on."
"So he won't decapitate me if I take you to dinner?"
"He won't, but Peter might."
"Who says Peter has to know?" Neal took a sip from his own espresso and watched as Kate weighed her options.
"That tracking anklet says that Peter will know."
"Yes, because he can see who I'm with and I never go to a decent restaurant by myself." Neal said, practically dripping sarcasm.
Kate rolled her eyes.
"You know, you might be charming, Caffrey, but you're still a criminal. I don't date criminals."
"Dinner is not a date in and of itself, Kate."
"It's Detective Beckett to you, Caffrey, and I'm going to have to decline."
Neal smiled, shaking his head slightly, but let the subject drop and turned his attention to the murder board.
"Who are Kevin and... Javier, was it?" Kate nodded, "Who were they interviewing?"
"I asked them to backtrack on a couple of burglary cases – Esposito called a friend of ours down in Burglary and he'll be up here in a minute with some case files for you to have a look at – Demming said he's got some art thefts that might be linked."
Neal looked at her again, just from the corner of his eye, contemplating the manner of her refusal when a tall, dark man suddenly entered his field of vision and Kate looked up at him. Neal decided he should probably pay attention to this guy.
"Demming, hey. What have we got?" Neal watched Kate's reaction to him closely. There was definitely history there, Demming was far too casual as he leaned on Kate's desk, but Beckett was less than inviting in her body language towards him.
"I've found another dozen burglaries where high-end art was present but not stolen."
"Have you got crime-scene photos?" Kate asked.
"Sure, here." He handed her a sheaf of manila folders, half of which Kate passed to Neal without a second glance.
"Here, Neal, take a look and see if you can spot any forgeries."
"Oh, are you the art expert?" Demming held out a hand to greet Neal.
"In a manner of speaking. Neal Caffrey."
"Tom Demming. So you can pick fakes from photos?"
"Sometimes, depends on the quality. From what I can tell, though, most of the forgeries planted during these break-ins aren't exactly museum-quality. They're good, but wouldn't fool an appraiser."
"Interesting. Well, if you've got any tips for my team it might help. Give me a call if you need any more information about any of the cases. See you later, Kate."
Neal watched as Beckett flinched ever-so-slightly at the use of her first name, before giving Demming a strained smile and turning her attention to her stack of case files as he left.
"Want these added to the piles?" Neal asked, flicking through the photos in the top case file.
"Forgeries in this pile, non-forgeries in that one." Kate indicated with her elbow, her attention flicking between the case files in her hands and the pictures on the murder board.
"Hang on – we might have an earlier connection." Kate pulled the top sheet out of the second case file in her collection and held it up next to the top sheet from their murder. "This woman was robbed two years ago."
"What? Why didn't we make the connection?" Neal asked, looking at the sheets and not seeing the connection straight away.
"Because she-" Kate pointed to the wife of the man who had been found dead that morning, "-changed her name when she got married last year, and moved from Harlem to the Upper East Side."
"So she was robbed two years ago – did she own the painting, then?"
"It doesn't seem likely, from the address I'd guess that the painting is worth more than the apartment she was living in at the time."
"What about her husband? How long has he owned it?"
"According to this... he bought it just before they got married, and before the wedding he lived in a studio in Chinatown."
"So where did the money for a five-bedroom on East73rd come from?" Neal mused.
"You're the criminal, you tell me."
"Hey, I was good, but I never had an apartment with a private balcony, hell I never lived in a building with an elevator. Real estate purchases attract too much attention, and trying to rent without a real income can be... difficult. Not a lot of landlords will accept every single rental payment in cash, and certainly not the higher end places."
Kate nodded as he spoke, and made a few notes on the murder board as he did.
"Looks like we've got a few more leads to follow – I suppose I need to call his wife in."