White Collar: The Nightingale
Chapter Thirty
"El, you should go home. Get some rest."
"I want to stay with you."
"Satchmo is probably going out of his mind by now."
"I have the neighbor caring for him."
"You look like you're about to drop from exhaustion." Peter said seriously. "Please, let Diana drive you home. Get some sleep. I'm doing just fine."
"I'll go on one condition."
"Name it."
"You promise to stay here and not go chasing after Neal."
"Honey, I haven't even been able to walk to the end of the hall. I'm not going anywhere."
"Okay." Elizabeth leaned in and gave Peter a kiss. "I'll be back tonight."
"Love you, Hon."
"Love you."
Elizabeth gave Peter another kiss before leaving. It was just before noon so Peter hoped she could get at least a few solid hours of sleep before coming back. After she left Peter picked his cell phone off the night stand and called into the office.
"Jones, here."
"Anything new on Caffrey?"
"Not much. That stain you spotted in the photo did turn out to be blood. We finally got a hold of June."
"Where is she?"
"Upstate New York, visiting a friend."
"I don't suppose she knows anything about Neal's 'guest'."
"She claims not to."
"She doesn't want to get Neal in trouble." Peter sighed. "Those two are thick as thieves."
"June certainly has a soft spot for him." Jones said. "Do you want me to bring her into the office? She might be more forth coming if the conversation was 'on the record'."
"Honestly I don't want to cause her any more trouble than I have to. I don't think there is anything she can tell us that we don't already know. She's a smart one, if she had information that could help Neal she'd tell us. Got anything else?"
"There is a little Yakuza chatter out there about the Nightingale, but nothing specific. With several leaders dead there is a power struggle going on that is threatening to spill into the streets."
"Make sure Organized Crime knows everything we do."
"On it already."
"Alright, keep me posted."
"You know I will. Get some rest."
"Yeah...right."
Peter hung up the phone and put it back on the night stand. A nurse came in with lunch, but the last thing he was interested in right now was hospital food. After the nurse left he pushed the tray and the small table it was on away to the side. Peter put his head back and closed his eyes for a moment only to be disturbed by a knock at his door. The guest didn't wait and invited himself in.
"US Marshal Garret." Peter greeted coldly. "How can the F.B.I help you?"
"I need your help finding Caffrey."
"Right, of course, hang on a minute." Peter made a show of looking around the room. "Nope, sorry, he doesn't seem to be here. I'll be sure to call you if he comes by with some flowers and a 'get well soon' card. Anything else I can do for you?"
"Don't be cute, Burke." Garret sneered.
"My people are doing what they can to correct *your* mistake." Peter replied seriously. "I don't know what more you expect me to do."
"We both know that finding Caffrey is impossible. They only way to get him is to lure him in the way you did with Kate."
"Kate's dead. I can't think of anything else he'd come back for."
"He'd come to your funeral."
"What?"
"I already have the paperwork started. We public announce your death to the media along with time, date, and place of the funeral. We make it look real enough Caffrey will find a way to be there. I just need your signature to get started."
"Get out."
"Burke..."
"Get the hell out!" Peter spat angrily.
"This is our one chance..."
"You've got serious nerve asking me to put my wife through something like that. Elizabeth's already been through enough almost losing me, the last thing she needs right now is to pretend that she did so that you can use us as bait for Caffrey."
"If I didn't know any better..."
"Stop before you say something stupid." Peter interrupted. "Get out and I'll consider not getting you fired for leaving a key witness in a Federal case alone in his apartment without protection to be tortured and kidnapped."
"Agent Burke, you don't honestly believe this was a kidna..."
"Did you see the blood?" Peter interrupted the Marshal again. "I could press negligence charges against you, and win."
"Negligence? You can't pin this on me."
"This happened because you only viewed him as a criminal and not as a potential target. Caffrey was injured, unarmed, and unprotected after having just assisted in bringing down two well known crime lords. Of course someone was going to go after him. If you had been doing your job and not settling a grudge you would have seen that."
Marshal Garret glared spitefully at Peter for a moment before visibly backing down. Garret wordless turned around and left. Peter reached up and rubbed at his temple as the elevation in his blood pressure gave him a headache. With the note that Neal had left behind he knew this wasn't a kidnapping, but he still blamed Garret for the blood spattered across Neal's apartment.
"Where would you go? Why wouldn't you call us for help?" Peter mused out loud. "Either you or Hsing doesn't think just anyone in the F.B.I can be trusted... You know you're a target for more than one group, you're injured, you have a girl to protect. You would need somewhere safe, you would need help. ...I'm such an idiot."
Having finished his train of thought in his head Peter snatch up his phone once more. It took him a second to remember the right number. The first one he dialed had been disconnected. Thinking hard Peter dialed another number. This time it started ringing.
"Pick up the phone." Peter ordered pointlessly as he listened to the ringing.
When the phone rang seven times it went to a voice mail that simply made the beeping sound to let you know it was recording. Peter didn't bother with a message. Hanging up he waited a few seconds and redialed the same number. The phone was on its sixth ring when it was finally answered.
"Haversham." Mozzie answered with an odd accent.
"Mozzie, is Neal with you?"
"I'm sorry, who is this?"
"You know damn well who I am!" Peter hissed. "Is Caffrey there? Have you heard from him?"
"Mozzie?" Neal's voice called from the background. "Is that Peter? Is he okay?"
"Uh..." Mozzie hesitated.
"Mozzie, don't you *dare* hang up!" Peter barked into the phone. "Let me talk to him right now! Mozzie? Neal! Ne..."
Peter ground his teeth together in frustration as Mozzie hung up on him. Peter hit the redial, but it was already too late. The phone didn't even ring, it just went instantly into the beeping answering machine. Hoping he was being recorded Peter left a message that he prayed Mozzie would listen to.
"Damn it, Mozzie, I'm not the enemy! You're underestimating my ability to fix this, and as his friend you are overestimating your ability to help him. Please, at least tell him I'm alive and let him make the choice to trust me or not..."