Chapter 5

The next two days, the White Collar Unit spent the majority of their time placing a tail on Manuel Perez, checking into the background of three arriving representatives in the jewelry industry, and doing even more research on the Martinez gang. Two of the men staying at the Lowell, were discounted as inconsequential; traditional mid-range retailers from the Midwest. The third man, however, was not.

Jeffrey Carboni, a recognizable name from South Carolina's high-end carriage trade, fit the profile of a man the theft ring would target. The suave businessman, well-known within his community for offering the finest quality merchandise and service, tended to hand-pick every diamond and piece of jewelry in his showroom. Considered one of the most intelligent diamond specialists in the south, he was in town to display a few captivating new gems. The man was being honored, later in the week, with a customer service award from wealthy Manhattan patrons.

The jeweler, an affable high flyer, tended to offer pricing amenities not ordinarily provided to the elite. Handsome, well educated, debonair, articulate and soft-spoken were the qualities his clientele were apt to pin on him. Peter, with wry amusement, privately indulged himself with the notion Carboni was a Neal Caffrey-clone, minus the criminal background. He was looking forward to personally meeting the man.

Approaching the Lowell on East 63rd Street, Burke and Caffrey were greeted by the uniformed doorman. He quickly sprang into action, welcoming them into the elegant European-styled hotel lobby. Built in 1926, designed by architect Henry S. Churchill, with an art deco façade utilizing brick and glazed pink terra cotta, the Lowell offered 47 deluxe suites with features such as private terraces and wood burning fireplaces.

Bypassing the custom-designed front desk, surrounded by antique furniture and windows laded with imported gold-colored fabric, Neal stopped momentarily before entering the ornate elevator.

"You know, Peter," he said, "I really should consider a career in the gem trade."

"Why's that, Neal? Do you really think you can restrict yourself to expensive baubles when the world of paintings, sculpture and priceless manuscripts beckons?"

Neal raised his eyebrows. "The jewelry profession offers travel, lucrative sales, exquisite gems, beautiful women and much more. It'd be easy to rise to the top of the industry, become an authority in the vocation and indulge in a passion for gems and precious metals."

"It's not the passion I'd be worried about, Neal," Peter scoffed. "It's the minor little notion of ethical standards and code of conduct that fall into question."

Entering the elevator, Neal held open the door, pushing the button for the tenth floor. As Peter entered and the door closed, the younger man leaned casually against the back wall. He gave his handler a pained look of disapproval.

"You underestimate my ability to go straight."

"Not your ability; your desire."

Neal lips tightened. He closed his eyes momentarily, hiding all but the barest hint of offense. His body language didn't escape Peter's notice, who was surprised his own banter missed the mark.

Was Neal searching for some affirmation from him?

Affirmation his CI was ready to be taken off monitoring anklet and let loose in the public arena? Or was Neal's reaction calculated for advantage somehow? Peter reasoned it might be a bit of both.

The agent inwardly winced. He sometimes failed to provide Neal with enough verbal assurance of his worth and capabilities. But the man held such an infuriating high opinion of himself. And to be honest, Peter just couldn't acknowledge how crucial it was to him, personally, that his partner remain on the right side of the law. Staking his career and friendship on that very point made the subject an emotional minefield for him.

Peter remained silent, reaching out and gently squeezing Neal's shoulder as they stepped out of the elevator. The conman hesitated a few seconds, his body relaxing minutely, before he pasted a big smile on his face and added a jaunty bounce to his step as they strode rapidly down the hall.

The jeweler welcomed the men into the living room of his one-bedroom suite. Jeffrey Carboni was a tall, good-looking man with dark blond hair, blue eyes and a light complexion. Looking younger than his thirty-five years, he had a striking appearance suggesting health and vitality. He was similar in size to Neal Caffrey.

Madison Avenue's idea of rugged attractiveness, Peter noted.

Neal observed the garden-themed room with outdoor terrace. A soft palette of blues and greens complimented the hardwood floor throughout the living area. There was a large wood burning fireplace and a curated library. Through the open door to the bedroom, he noticed floral pattern 18th-century wallpaper with definite Chinese influence. Very nice.

Carboni waved them to several chairs. "Please take a seat, gentlemen. I know you're very busy and your time is valuable. I don't want to waste it. Agent Burke, I've been thinking about our phone conversation. You want, Mr. Caffrey here, to pose as myself, in a sting operation to catch these jewel thieves committing a crime?"

Straight to the point, Burke thought.

The jeweler continued. "Why don't you just use me? I assure you, I'm not easily frightened by menacing hoodlums; I'm licensed to carry a weapon and I can take care of myself. It would make it all less complicated."

Neal blinked in surprise. Peter straightened in his chair.

"We don't risk the lives of ordinary civilians, Mr. Carboni. I appreciate your offer. But our people are trained for undercover operations. Neal is quite experienced in confidence games and executes an operation with precision and skill. He can entice these men into committing a crime, producing the evidence we need for an arrest."

"I'll safeguard the gems. Your merchandise will be secure," Neal assured him.

Carboni flushed slightly. "I'm not doubting your expertise." He hid his irritation but couldn't keep a touch of disappointment from his voice. "I just wanted to help take these men down. The fact they're targeting the jewel trade, have stolen millions and hurt my own tradesmen, infuriates me."

Peter nodded. "Of course, and I assure you we'll need your assistance."

"How can I help?"

Neal grinned. He pulled out a sheet of paper and passed it to the jeweler. "These are the items I need and the questions I need answered."

Carboni slipped on a pair of reading glasses, scanned the sheet and glanced up at the two men.

"I believe I can be of help, gentlemen."