White Collar: The Eye of Sita
Chapter Six
After Peter left Neal spent some time deciding what his next move should be. He knew that if Art Crimes really did have something on him concerning the Nazi treasure that he should be trying to figure out the quickest way out of DC. He had not come unprepared, the false back of his suitcase held all the ID and cash he'd need for a hasty departure. Neal took out his cell phone and thought about calling Mozzie.
"Let's not over react just yet." Neal said to himself as he put the phone away again.
Feeling trapped in the luxury hotel Neal went into his room. Opening the secret compartment on the suitcase he pulled out the new passport that Mozzie had gotten him. It was a brand new allis that had been cultivated by an ID pharmer for years. It was bulletproof, a new life, a new start, a new person.
"I did it once, I could do it again."
Unsure if he meant the words he'd said Neal slipped the passport into his breast pocket. He left the cash behind. The passport was in case of an emergency, it was the one piece that was not easily replaced. Cash was something he could get just about anywhere. It was a risk to walk around with the passport, but at this point the greater risk seemed to be in not having it readily available.
Needing a distraction from the fact that he might not be returning Neal wandered across the Mall to the National Gallery of Art. The masterpieces on display quickly cleared Neal's thoughts of what the future held. Eventually Neal found himself standing in front of 'Before the Ballet' by Degas. He hated the fact that he enjoyed looking at the one locked up in the storage unit more. There was an added thrill when looking at the stolen Degas that this public display couldn't match.
"See something you like?"
Neal looked over at the middle aged woman who had just addressed him. A quick look at her apparel and the glimpse of a lanyard in her collar told him that she worked here. Neal smiled at her, but she remained cold.
"I was just admiring Degas' use of negative space."
"As long as you keep your hands to yourself."
"Excuse me?"
"I know who you are, Mr. Caffrey. I have been in charge of security here for fifteen years."
"I'm not here to cause any trouble."
"I can't officially tell guests they aren't welcome here, but I can inform you that you will be watched closely."
"I do love a challenge." Neal smiled.
"Is that a threat?"
"No. It was a joke."
The older woman clearly didn't find the humor in the situation. When she told Neal that he was going to be watched carefully she was not exaggerating. She stood near by and stared at his every move for the next few hours. Years of having his every move tracked by the F.B.I had made him pretty much numb to watching eyes.
As the day passed Neal made his way out of the Gallery of Art without incident and made his way over to the Smithsonian. Whoever was in charge of security at the Smithsonian didn't seem as concerned to have Neal wandering around. Just another tourist in the crowd Neal went back to the gem display.
The gem collection was just as attention holding this time as the first. It was later in the afternoon and the museum was busy. A few buses worth of middle school kids were running around the various displays, having more fun with hide and seek than learning about rocks. Neal noticed that the Hope Diamond display was open now.
The display was in the middle of a small room with more jewels in cases lining the walls. At night the entire room became a vaulted safe. Neal stepped up to the famous jewel and furrowed his brow. Something about the stone seemed wrong the instant he looked at it. Despite being beautiful the large blue gem didn't sparkle quite enough for a diamond and held a little too much fire. Neal shook his head to try and clear it. There was no reason to believe the stone wasn't real, and even the most trained gemologists needed more than a naked eye look at a stone to determine if it was real.
"Still...something seems wrong." Neal muttered as he looked closer.
"Impressed?" A deep voice suddenly whispered in Neal's ear.
Neal nearly jumped out of his own skin. Beyond being unexpected the voice had sparked a memory that Neal had long tried to forget. He instantly turned towards the voice, but the speaker was already gone. Neal searched the crowd, but he didn't recognize anyone. Instantly forgetting the diamond Neal went on the hunt for the owner of the voice. The distinctive Texan twang to the man's voice had firmly tied a knot in Neal's stomach.
Whoever had spoken to him had blended perfectly into the busy museum crowd. The kids running around were being chased by weary chaperons as the other visitors pointed at displays and chatted casually with one another. Giving in Neal put his hands in his jacket pockets to look for his phone. Neal's fingers brushed against something that turned his blood to ice. With his heart racing Neal tried to walk calmly to the nearest exit.
No one stopped Neal as he stepped out of the museum and out onto the grassy Mall. Neal walked briskly over to a small group of trees before reaching into his pocket again. Neal looked around anxiously before pulling the out of place object out into the sun. Neal looked down at his hand and his breath hissed across his teeth.
Unsure of what to do Neal started walking aimlessly. He knew that every second that went by that he didn't go straight to Peter was just going to make things worse. At the same time going to his friend might be a waste of time. Neal continued to pace through the monuments of DC without seeing any of them.
It wasn't until the sun started to set that Neal realized how long he had been trying to figure out what to do. Reaching into his breast pocket Neal froze when he discovered that his passport was missing. Neal looked once more at what the pick pocket had left behind while lifting his passport.
"Drop my guard for five seconds, and this is what I get."
Finally making a decision Neal reoriented himself so that he could head back to the hotel. He wouldn't be surprised if he was back behind bars before morning, but running now would just confirm what everyone was going to soon be suspecting. Neal didn't mind being accused of crimes he'd actually had the privilege of committing, but he hated trying to defend himself from a set up. He kept going through the names of enemies he'd made over the years, but one name kept coming up.
"Not possible." Neal muttered to himself.
Neal kept trying to run through other scenarios as he walked back to the hotel. Whoever had talked to him had been right, he was impressed. Stealing the Hope Diamond was long considered impossible. Safe in the Smithsonian it was unreachable, however, the stone had been out of the museum's thick walls recently while it was being placed back in its original setting.
"And where else does it go to get reset?" Neal asked rhetorically. "My own backyard."
The stone would have been in New York at the Harry Winston Jewelers for the change. Neal tried to remember exactly what he'd been doing over the past week and realized that he had been off his anklet for several days during an undercover assignment. He briefly wondered if whoever was working this had known that.
Wishing he had just stayed in New York where he belonged Neal arrived at the hotel. Coming to the door he could hear Peter talking with someone. Feeling cautious Neal held his breath and held his ear to the door to hear the conversation better. When he heard Sara's voice he remembered that he had promised her dinner.
Neal stepped into the room with an apologetic smile. Peter and Sara were sitting across from one another at the large glass coffee table, having just finished dinner. The set up suggested something having been brought up from the kitchen. Peter looked up with a brief look of concern that he quickly concealed in a wry smile.
"Your date was hungry...so we got room service."
"Sorry, Neal," Sara apologized "I really was starving."
"Sara tells me you've yet to take her out on a proper date." Peter admonished.
"The last time I tried you 'commandeered' it." Neal accused.
"Oh right, if I recall correctly you were the one who got me in that mess to start with." Peter said. "So I don't hold much guilt over what happened."
"And in all fairness I did have fun." Sara chuckled.
"You two kids should go off and find dessert somewhere." Peter suggested.
"Actually I'm not feeing particularly well." Neal said truthfully.
"Neal?" Sara asked in concern.
"I'll be okay, just tired."
"Oh, alright." Sara said as she got to her feet. "I should go."
"Thank you. I'll call you later."
Sara walked up to Neal, but at the last moment she decided to keep her distance and stepped around him to reach the door. Neal though briefly about going after her to apologize, but at this point he was fairly certain that a simple 'sorry' wasn't going to be enough. Peter got up from his place on the couch and walked over.
"Neal, you're going to lose Sara if you keep this up. She's already confused on where you two stand with each other."
"That makes both of us." Neal admitted. "Let's take a walk, we can talk about it."
"You want to talk to me about a relationship of yours?" Peter asked doubtfully.
"Is that so hard to believe?"
"Yes it is."
"Then let's just say I need some fresh air." Neal looked around at the few places that he already knew had bugs listening in.
"That I can believe." Peter nodded.
Peter didn't ask any questions as they made their way out of the hotel. It was dark out, but the city was so full of lights that it was barely different than broad daylight. Neal lead Peter across the Mall and over to the steps of the closed Smithsonian. Neal looked around, there were a few tourists walking by, but no one who looked like they cared about two men meeting outside a museum.
"Neal, you're making me nervous."
"I need you to promise me that you're going to listen to me and not instantly arrest me."
"Now I'm really nervous. I don't like it when you start conversations like this." Peter replied. "I thought I told you to stay out of trouble."
"I tried, it found me."
"Of course it did. You're like a super electromagnet for trouble. Sometimes I wonder why I even try with you."
"Peter, promise me."
"Fine, I promise not to arrest you instantly. I can't be held responsible for what I do ten seconds after that."
"I guess that will have to do."
Neal put his hand in his jacket pocket and looked around once more. Bringing his hand out in a fist he turned his hand palm side up and opened it. Peter instinctively took a step away from the high quality diamonds that Neal had just revealed. Even in the artificial light of the street lights the clear flawless diamonds glittered brightly. There were sixteen mid sized diamonds, half pear-shaped, the other half cushion cut. There was also a very sizable black stone with a radiant cut. Neal tensed when it looked like Peter was reaching for his back pocket to get his hand cuffs. However Peter was just putting his hands on his hips and counting to ten in his head.
"Peter..."
"Neal, why do you have a handful of diamonds?" Peter asked sternly.
"I didn't steal them." Neal said quickly.
"Did you buy them?"
"No."
"Were they a gift?"
"Sort of. Someone put them in my pocket as a message."
"Expensive message." Peter said, clearly trying his hardest to remain calm. "What's with the black rock?"
"It's a black diamond." Neal corrected.
"What's the message?"
"There is a Tibetan belief that when you die your deeds are weighed out on a scale in stones, the black stones are for evil deeds, the white stones are for your good deeds."
"Well there is only one black rock." Peter pointed out. "So they must not know you very well."
"The weight of the black stone does not even come close to being outweighed by the white ones."
"Neal..."
"There's more." Neal interrupted. "I don't think they are just any diamonds."
"What do you think they are?"
"I...uh...I think they are the sixteen colorless diamonds that surrounded the Hope Diamond."
"That's impossible, if that were true it would mean that the Hope Diamond has been stolen. ...Please tell me that hasn't happened."
"'That hasn't happened'."
"That didn't make me feel better the way I thought it would."
"That's because you know it was a lie."
"Neal, no..."
"I'm sorry, Peter, I believe the Hope Diamond has been stolen."
"By someone you know." Peter stated in frustration.
"Or at the very least by someone who knows me."
Peter sighed heavily in the manner that he always did when things started going from bad to worse. Neal stood with the diamonds and just waited for Peter to ask the obligatory questions. Peter hesitated before taking a step closer and narrowing his eyes as he stared down Neal.
"I have to ask Neal..."
"I didn't take it."
"Do you know who did?"
"No. I have a few ideas, but I don't have a name."
"Alright, give me the stones."
"Are you going to take them to Walters?" Neal asked as he handed over the stones.
"I don't know what I'm going to do...we already had enough problems before this happened."
"Maybe if we just ignore the problem someone else might take care of it." Neal smiled.
"That's actually not a bad plan." Peter mused.
"I was joking."
"I'm not."
"Peter?"
"I'm not the only Agent in the Bureau. It might be best, for both of us, to let someone else handle this case."
"That'll never work."
"Why not?"
"Because you and I both know they are going to need our help to solve this one. Plus we can't just let a National Treasure disappear."
"When did you suddenly become the voice of my conscious?"
"Since you started ignoring evidence."
"You're just annoyed that there's a jewelry thief out there better than you."
"Maybe a little."