/* Friday */
Once again, Neal woke up early after a restful night. He hadn't been jogging for ages, but today was as good a day as any to start again. He had hit on many of his very best ideas during early-morning runs. His handler would probably dissent about the excellence of these ideas since at least some of them hadn't been strictly legit. But hey, who cared? He was nevertheless proud of them.
Back from his rounds along Riverside Park, he met June on her way up with a basket full of tantalizing smelling pastries. He angled for an invitation and wasn't disappointed.
They enjoyed a shared breakfast on the rooftop terrace, with Italian roast, fresh pastries and light conversation. Even though Neal had been back from prison for two months, his landlady still felt as if it was the first time the formerly-outgoing person had showed up. She had missed him dearly.
Later on, when the conman had left for the office, June called Elizabeth. "El, would you mind telling Peter that his plan is already showing effect?"
"Wait, you can talk to him yourself. He's still at home." El went looking for her husband, when June stopped her.
"No, it's fine. You can pass on the information just as well. Neal has taken up jogging again. Furthermore, he joined me for a hearty breakfast this morning. I've really missed his company - I hadn't been able to sweet-talk him into joining me for either breakfast or dinner over the last couple of months. He looks way too slim. Please, tell Peter to watch out for him, will you?"
When Elizabeth delivered the good news to her husband, she was wondering why the older lady had called her instead of talking to Peter. He, of course, knew that she was still bore a grudge against him and would rather not talk to him in person. He understood her concerns. But still, it hurt a bit.
The undercover operation got going. The FBI had spread the word that George Devore, aka Neal Caffrey, a brilliant art forger and fence who had recently re-entered the country, was on the lookout for a job. It hadn't taken long until Orlov contacted Devore to ask for a meeting.
Apparently, Orlov was cautious. He insisted on a meeting at a public place. The first contact was set to happen at a charity lunch for Chechen orphanages at Bryant Park Hotel. It was Jones who undid the tracking anklet to exchange it for the fake watch with GPS and voice transmission.
Peter and Jones were waiting in the surveillance van while the CI approached the hotel. Jones was speculating. "He's off anklet. Have you ever admitted the thought that he might just run?"
Peter smiled to himself. "Yes, I have."
After waiting in vain for a few moments for his boss to continue, he asked further. "So what would you do if he ran?"
"I would wait an hour or two. After that, just the usual - road blocks, wanted posters ..." It was true, he had been musing about this possibility. Frankly, if Neal ran this time, he wouldn't keep him back. If fleeing to a far-away island was what the younger man needed to get his life back, then that's how it should be. But he nurtured hope that his partner would stay. Strange as it seemed, he even hoped beyond hope that one day they would be friends once again. Just like Dumas had put it into words "All human wisdom is summed up in two words; wait and hope." Damn it! He had clearly spent too much time with Mozzie and Neal. He was starting to think in brainy quotes.
Jones looked a bit confused when his boss chuckled silently.
In the hotel across the street, the conversation between Orlov and his potential frontman started slow and unpromising. The Russian criminal was suspicious since Devore hadn't been suggested by a mutual partner; in addition to that, the reference jobs he was quoting were a bit outdated. Neal tried a different tactic. He involved Poppy, Orlov's wife, into the conversation, charming her skillfully.
She was a good-looking woman in her thirties, wearing high-end designer clothes and heavy jewelry. The conman didn't need long to find out that she went to an exclusive boarding school near Geneva in Switzerland and had spent some years in Paris. Following this lead, they soon discovered that both had some common acquaintances in the fashion industry.
After that, Orlov relaxed visibly, eventually showing some interest in the young man. He probed Devore's general knowledge on icon paintings as well as insurance proceedings, but didn't talk about any actual illegal activities and stayed non-committal. However, he seemed to be content enough with the impression he got to invite Devore over to his apartment to talk business that afternoon. He also requested that the art forger bring some work samples along with him.
Neal joined the FBI agents in the van. "So far, so good. I guess I'm in. I'm going to show him some of my art replicas; that will seal the deal." Modesty wasn't exactly his middle name.
Jones grinned. "I'm glad you snatched that undercover job. I wouldn't have made it through the first interview. What's that Lucerne Festival you were talking about? Do they actually roast snails in butter and eat it?" He shuddered in disgust.
Peter was less enthusiastic. "Right now, Orlov will check those mutual friends you named. Do these contacts hold up?"
The CI looked self-confident. "They do. I didn't make them up. Of course they will remember making business with George Devore."
"What business did you do in the fashion industry? Is fashion designer another one of your careers?" Peter was surprised.
"I don't want to go into any details. Let's just assume that one could make a lot of money with counterfeit designer accessories. Allegedly. I'm not talking about those cheap Chinese copies but quality goods." Neal beamed at the memory of his former deeds.
Agent Burke rolled his eyes and couldn't believe that criminal activities still turned up in Caffrey's life that he didn't know anything about.
When the ex-forger went to his apartment to collect the paintings, he was mulling over the missing anklet. He was still off anklet, and it would be a perfect opportunity to escape. If only he wasn't worried sick about Mozzie, who was still missing. On top of that, he wanted to solve the case to prove that he wasn't the pathetic wimp Peter saw. For whatever reason, he was looking forward to his handler giving him the much-deserved credit.
Later that day, Neal entered Orlov's apartment carrying a selection of his paintings, all of them copies of famous art pieces. He was hired on the spot, and his new boss unveiled the plan to con the insurance company. Obviously, he had hired a frontman before. By all appearances, that guy had tried to deceive him. Orlov left no doubt that he didn't tolerate betrayal.
Neal nodded consent. "Got that. Can you show me the icon painting that I'm going to present to the insurance company? I wanna make sure it's genuine."
He wasn't surprised to see the very same icon Mozzie had shown him some days ago. It went without saying that this wasn't a forgery, but the genuine icon. The conman tried to find out what had happened to his predecessor in the job. But the only information he got from Orlov was that the guy had disappeared. Whether he disappeared by his own free will or disappeared with the help of a bullet was left out.
They agreed to meet on Monday, when George Devore would pick up the icon and bring it to the insurance company for the upcoming expertise.
Neal was aware that the FBI team in the van had listened to the conversation. They had agreed to meet at the Bureau to discuss the next steps. On the way back, the ex-criminal was getting worked up about Mozzie's disappearance. He was caught between a rock and a hard place. How could he ever trust his handler again, after all he had done? On the other hand, Peter had been helpful in the past; furthermore, the FBI would have the means to find Mozzie.
Finally, he managed to make up his mind. He saw Peter sitting in his office, lost in a report, and knocked at his door. "Am I disturbing you?"
His handler looked up and smiled wryly. "When did that keep you out before? Come in." He leaned back and signaled Neal to take a seat.
The conman entered and sat down in an empty chair. Peter waited for him to start the conversation. After a while, when Neal hadn't said anything, his handler joked, "Hemingway once said that it takes two years to learn to talk and a lifetime to learn to shut up. Obviously, you've mastered that art already."
The CI cleared his throat. "You've listened when I was talking to Orlov?"
Burke nodded. Neal continued speaking. "The guy who cheated Orlov. The one who had disappeared ... Most likely, that was Mozzie." It cost him quite an effort to confide into his handler. He didn't trust him, how could he? But then again, maybe it was time to take a leap of faith.
The FBI agent reacted surprised. "Mozzie? Why do you think it was him?"
"He told me some confusing story involving icons, Russian clients and a sure-fire method to make a fast buck. He sounded less enthusiastic when I talked to him last Tuesday. I haven't been able to get a hold of him since then. I've been checking all his safe places as well as my street contacts." Neal was visibly troubled.
Burke concluded the obvious. "He's the reason why you wanted this undercover job so badly."
Neal nodded. "I let him down. He asked for my help, but I refused. Now, he might be in danger, and I need to find him."
Peter tried to reassure him. "It's Mozzie! So, I wouldn't worry too much. He's probably hiding somewhere safe and keeping a low profile until the coast is clear." Still, he promised to look out for the little man.
Elizabeth offered some help with the case too. An old friend of hers worked at the Tzarev Gallery. She was able to provide 16th century wood panels and the pigments needed to mix egg tempera in addition to some rare art books on Russian Icon paintings as inspiration for Neal. The latter asked his handler to give thanks to his wife. He appreciated the unexpected help.
### Saturday ###
Thanks to El's help, Neal was able to start working on the icon forgeries right after sunrise. The light was perfect, and he enjoyed the act of painting wholeheartedly. He felt completely at ease, not spending a single thought on anything else but the icon, the right colors and painting technique.
It was already afternoon when he checked this watch for the first time that day. When he was painting, it was as if he had fallen through a rabbit hole, and from that moment on, he was disconnected from reality, living in a fantasy world without rules or obligations. It was pure bliss. Without art, the crudeness of reality would make the world unbearable for him.
Neal was wondering why he hadn't painted or sculptured for ages. However, he couldn't think of any convincing reasons. Art had always enabled him to both find himself and lose himself at the same time. It was as if he had built on failure, used it as a stepping stone. He should probably close the door to the recent past. Not to forget the hardship, but not dwelling on it either. He wouldn't let it have any more of his energy, or time, or his space.
Now, there were the more mundane parts of art forgery lying ahead. Aging a wooden icon was somewhat more difficult than aging a watercolor. But then again, he was still one of the world's best art forgers and handled the delicate task to perfection.
That evening, Neal went to bed with a sense of elation. Painting all day, he had been immersed in the work. Strangely enough, he hadn't spent any thoughts on his missing friend – who was ultimately the reason why he got entangled in this case in the first place.
As he cleaned the brushes in the evening, he felt a certain sereneness, being absolutely certain that Mozzie was still alive and well. When you start using senses you've neglected, your reward is to see the world with entirely fresh eyes.
It wouldn't have been the first time that he had gone underground, cutting all means of communication to reappear once the danger had been averted. Things would fall into place.
AN:
Thanks to larura who has once again beta read this chapter. I'm so glad about her help.
If anyone entertains doubts about Neal being able to forge an icon painting in just one day: he is able to carve a solid block of marble over night into a sculpture. Therefore, he won't fail to complete such a simple task.
There are 4 more chapters to come. Please stay tuned :-) and review.