AHH! ok, . i hope this works because it took me far to long to try and upload this. i guess i really cant navigate well on this site. ( i cant find my reviews either, its killing me =)
and also, if this does work, im sorry for the delay, uni has bee nice enough to pile on the work, so yay! .... *_* but i have made this chap nice and juicy so please enjoy!
"I can't believe were only assisting on this case", complained Neal in the passenger seat of Peter's car as they drove towards the crime scene. "How often do you get a serial killer and an art thief under the same alias?"
"It makes for a dangerous combination if you ask me"
Neal hummed an agreement at Peter.
A thief with a passion could be difficult, but understandable. A killer with a passion, as this guy clearly was, with the way that he so meticulously created their crime scenes, was unpredictable, and with unpredictable came danger of the unknown.
"A guy like this Beholder, obviously the FBI have been having difficulty catching him for the murders that he's committed so far." Peter said.
"So he's clever, knows how to cover his tracks" Neal said, building their own profile of the Beholder was just as important to them as reading the profile already provided by the FBI.
"But not with this one," said Peter as he pulled off the main road into the residential area where the Relvar house was. "So why would he kill and steel the painting if they have always been kept separate in the past?"
"Maybe he didn't intend on killing Hanna, maybe it was a crime of opportunity?"
"So he was really at the Relvar house to steal the painting?" Peter guessed. Neal shrugged as Peter pulled onto the drive of their destination. "He's advancing in his work, gaining more confidence, he's combining his two different obsessions now. This may be the first time, but ill bet you the next one will be a lot worse. He's probably thought about connecting his crimes together for a long time and just never had the guts to do it until now." finished Peter killing the ignition. "The question is why this painting, I mean, its nothing special. Not worth a huge amount on the open market, right?"
"Perhaps its not the value on the market that the Beholders interested in. Perhaps he can recognise a beautiful painting when he sees it"
Peter scowled at Neal's answer. He had seen a copy of the painting, it wasn't that special, not to his taste anyhow, and he knew not the Neal's. Neal got out of the car a little too quickly before Peter caught on to Neal. "What aren't you telling me Neal?" Peter followed Neal as he tried to disappear up the path to the house. When Neal did not slow down Peter repeated his question more sternly.
From behind, Peter could see Neal's shoulders hunch a little before turning to face Peter. Neal said "Nothing that I'm sure you haven't already worked out by now Peter"
Then it dawned on him what Neal was, or rather was not saying. He walked close up to Neal so as no one could over hear what he was about to say to the con man.
He breathed in a breath calming himself before asking, "You stole that painting didn't you? What the Beholder stole was your work?"
When Neal didn't answer strait away and just gave him his expression that said, 'well, what do you expect? I'm Neal Caffrey'. He cursed at him. "Damn it Neal! Why didn't you say something earlier?"
"Oh yeh, I'm sure Agent Hughes would have just loved to hear about yet another forgery I've committed and add it to the penance tab I've got around my ankle."
"Damn it Neal, this could be important. It's going to have to come out at one point or another in the investigation." Sighing, Peter asked, "Why steal it in the first place?"
Neal smiled, but the happiness of the memory died before it met his eyes. "It was Kate. It was a piece that we saw at an exhibition before I got arrested. We joked about it, so I stole it for her as a joke"
"You took it for a joke? That's just grate Neal, just fantastic!" Peter rambled as he stormed his way inside, Neal following not far behind.
The two walked into the house. Neal knew that Peter didn't trust him, even though every thing that they had been together, he knew Peter wanted more, wanted Neal to be more reliable, more honest with him. Neal wanted Peter to trust him, but he just didn't know how much more honest he could get, it wasn't, after all in his nature.
The house was a sculpture of marble, defiantly a place that Neal would feel comfortable staying in, or robbing. The front door was open when they approached, seeing no one in sight, they made there way into the house towards the sound of snapping photographs. They entered the main living space, which was lavishly decorated with gold and cream furniture, pale marble floors and a large television that flickered from image to static. Hanna's parents were in the room, in the corner out of the way of the FBI who were dusting down the room for fingerprints and taking video footage of the scene. Their heads were bent low and they talked in hushed tones trying to comfort each other. There was a table placed in the center that didn't seem to belong to the rest of the room, on top was a taped marked silhouette of where Hanna once lay.
Two distinct figures in suits turned to them as they entered, Neal took them to be the FBI agents that they were supposed to be 'assisting'. They walked over to them in unison, introducing them selves as agent Durk and Huntington. Neither of them was particularly striking to look at but they both had that look in their eyes that told him that they had seen far too much in their line of work. Durk with her short highlighted blond hair and slight plump face, and Huntington with his thick set brow and bold features, were the perfect image of good cop, bad cop, though by agent Durk's cold tone as she introduced herself suggested that, despite appearances, she was bad cop and Huntington was good cop.
"You must be Agent Bruke from White Collar division" said Huntington with an open smile.
"And you're the agents new pet convict, Neal Caffery" Durks tone was as bland as her expression as she addressed Neal.
Neal despised it when people referred to him as Peter's 'pet convict'. He was not something that could be owned and had no master to answer to, at least, that's what he strived for, his current predicament with the FBI proved something completely different.
Trying not to let it show, Neal summoned up his best smile for the woman. "And how lovely it is to meet the agents that have been chasing the Beholder for the past four years."
Agent Durk's eyes narrowed at Neal, but she said nothing further, leaving her partner to take the lead.
"I'm glad the Wight Collar department could spare us two of its agents to help us with this one."
Neal didn't miss the implication of him being an agent, which made his grin widen in genuine glee.
Seeing Neal's ego about to burst, he interrupted the mans moment by addressing Huntington "This is where it happened then?" Peter had meant the theft of the painting, but Huntington took his meaning for the murder.
Turning agent Huntington nodded and surveyed the scene as if he had just seen it him self. "Yeh, this is where it all happened." Pointing to the table, he gave them a brief of the situation. "He dragged the table to the centre of the room from the dining room, the deceased was on it when we arrived. He displayed her for us to find like that."
"Was she killed on the table or positioned there?" asked Peter.
"Were thinking that she was killed on the table judging from the blood patterns found around the body and rope tied around the legs of the table. There were struggle marks from rope on her wrists as well, but that could have been from her being tied up elsewhere. We wont be certain until the lab results are back."
"Aren't you supposed to be here to investigate the missing painting, not the dead girl?" Agent Durk's cold and rude interjection stopped the conversation in its tracks. "Your missing paintings that way." She said pointing to the wall behind them.
An empty gold frame hung where the picture once stood on a plain cream wall. Left with little else choice, Peter and Neal walked in the direction directed, the agents not far behind. Sometimes you just had to take the hostility from other agent until you could deal it right back.
Sighing, Neal tried to get his brain into gear. "so what do you think?" said Peter to Neal.
"Give me a minuet Peter, I mean I'm good but its going to take me more then just two seconds."
"I'm sorry, I must have misjudged you." Said Peter teasingly.
Ignoring Peter's comment, Neal stepped forward to examine the frame, making him the focus of the group's attention. Knowing what he knew about the history of the painting and his relation to it, he was fainting deep concentration. He was about to tell them that the painting that the Beholder had stolen was a fake, wanting to show up Agent Durk, when he noticed something about the frame. Frowning, he asked the agents behind him for a forensic glove so he could touch the painting without leaving any prints. Using the edge of the glove, he lifted the corner of the frame to look behind it.
"What is it Neal?" Peter asked.
Composing himself, Neal gestured for Peter to follow him a few paces away from the agents prying ears. "Peter, that frame is one of mine too."
Catching himself before he yelled at Neal, Peter hissed at him "God damn it Neal, your forged the frame too!?"
"No, you don't understand Peter. When I took the original painting I placed the fake in the original frame."
"Then how did that get here? Is it possible the Relvar purchased the frame separately?"
Neal shrugged "Anything's possible. But an old paintings like this one rarely come out of it original frame. Unless they've been stolen" added Neal after receiving a look from Peter. "But this is too much of a coincidence."
Peter nodded in agreement, "And if there's one thing I believe in, there's no such thing as a coincidence."
Neal's frown deepened "But this frame, it doesn't make sense. I made this frame to contain a hidden compartment. But I destroyed it afterwards, I'm certain of it."
"Why would you make a fake frame so valuable just to be a container?"
Neal hesitated too much for Peters liking "It was an exchange of sorts."
Peter shook his head in exasperation, knowing he would get little more information from the man. "Fine" Peter said. "So we have a missing painting that you forged."
Neal nodded and continued Peter's train of thought. "And we have a frame that I made well before I took the paining, and has noconnection to the picture."
"Except for you."
"Except for me." Neal agreed, repeating Peter. He considered this for a moment, then made his way back to the frame. Using the glove he used before, he searched the base of the frame.
"What's he doing?" demanded Durk to Peter. Peter ignored the question and stepped closer to see what Neal was doing.
Neal, finding the pressure spot he was looking for, pressed slightly and a section of the frame popped open. A rolled up piece of paper fell to the floor with an empty tunk. Neal bent down and picked up the piece forgetting about the frame. As he unrolled the paper, Neal felt the world come to a sudden, horrific stop. Sound was dulled in his ears and his mouth went dry.
Swallowing his fear, Neal handed the piece to Peter, not daring to look at the man. Taking it, Peter understood why Neal was suddenly as white as a sheet.
Drawn on the piece of paper in fine crosshatch style, was a close up drawing of Neal Caffery asleep.