Note from the Phoenix: Thanks to ButtermilkCavalry for betta testing this difficult chapter for me and making a few key observations! Hugs.
White Collar: The Eye of Sita
Chapter Nine
By the time Peter was done questioning Diana about the DNA results Neal had been given a ride from the Federal Building. Walters and Neal both assumed that Peter had decided against hanging around. Alone in the office Peter was able to have Diana fax him a copy of the DNA testing and the original police report on Robert Caffrey's death. Peter read through the report with a critical eye.
"Sloppy work." Peter muttered in frustration. "The entire forensics team needs to be fired."
Peter leafed through the surprisingly slim report on the 1995 murder. The killer was identified as Daniel White. The report had very little to say about the killer or the victim. In fact the case report seemed to have no theories or statements about what had happened that night. However, one piece of information jumped right off the page.
"Robert Caffrey, found shot to death in his home by Daniel White, October eleventh, 1995...Neal's eighteenth birthday."
Not one to believe in coincidences Peter pulled out his cell phone and called Diana.
"Hey, Boss. Did Neal have a good explanation?"
"I haven't talked to him yet." Peter admitted. "I need to know what happened to this 'Daniel White'."
"Sorry, Boss, the rest of the report and the records on Daniel White are all sealed."
"I don't care how you do it, get those records unsealed."
"You got it."
Ending the call Peter put his cell phone back in his pocket and fished out his car keys. On his way back to the hotel Peter debated on if he should confront Neal about the blood tonight, or if he should wait until he had the sealed records. Waiting would give him a better idea of the whole picture, but he wasn't sure if this could wait.
"He's probably at Sara's anyway and I shouldn't drag him away from her twice in one night."
Peter wanted Neal's relationship with Sara to succeed. He felt that Sara would be a good stabilizing force in Neal's life. Something to help him settle down in one place and reduce the temptation to continue any criminal activities. Peter had known Sara for years and knew she was not the kind of girl to stand for illegal activity or stolen gifts.
Getting to the hotel room Peter was surprised to find Neal sleeping soundly on the couch. He'd either been too tired to make it all the way to the bedroom, or he had tried to stay up waiting for Peter to come back and had fall asleep. Either was he was completely passed out.
Walking over to Neal Peter didn't have the heart to wake him up. He looked far too peaceful to be disturbed. Peter reached down, loosened Neal's tie and undid the top button to make him more comfortable. Going into the bedroom Peter pulled the comforter off the bed and brought it out to the living room. Covered in the thick blanket Neal seemed to settle deeper into a dreamless sleep.
Being wide awake Peter wandered out onto the patio and closed the door behind himself. He spent a few minutes searching the patio for any listening devices. Neal had already pointed out a few of them in the room itself. Peter wasn't sure if they were actually on or recording, but he decided against taking any chances. A full sweep of the patio didn't show up anything. Peter pulled out his cell phone once more and dialed Mozzie.
"Is Neal alright?" Mozzie answered anxiously.
"He's fine, Mozzie."
"Then why are you calling?" Mozzie demanded.
"I need some information."
"I'm sorry, you must have the wrong number. Good b..."
"Don't you dare hang up on me." Peter threatened. "Who is Robert Caffrey?"
"Robert? I have no idea. Neal doesn't have any brothers, and unless something has changed he doesn't have any children either, and I doubt he'd name a son 'Robert' even if he did."
"I don't have time for lies, secrets or jokes, Mozzie, this is extremely important."
"I've never heard the name. My best guess would be Neal's father."
"You don't know Neal's father's name?" Peter asked surprised.
"I never asked, he never told."
"Mozzie, please..."
"I honestly can't help you." Mozzie said in a tone that suggested he was telling the truth. "I know exactly as much about Neal's parents as you do."
"He's old enough to be Neal's father, but DNA says that Robert Caffrey is not related to Neal genetically. Could he be a step-father?"
"If Neal had a step-father he never mentioned him to me."
"You have to know something." Peter insisted.
"There is only one way to get Neal to talk about his past, Suit."
"What's that?"
"Torture."
"What?"
"I know all you Suits take water boarding classes. The hotel where you're staying must have a bath tub."
"Mozzie..."
"Slow, agonizing torture is the only thing that will get Neal to talk about his teenage years, and even then you only have a slim chance of getting anything useful out of him."
"Unlike you, where I have absolutely *zero* chance of getting anything useful."
"I am unbreakable." Mozzie said proudly.
"That's not what I meant."
"Peter, you know as well as I do that as far as Neal is concerned other than a birth certificate and a social security number he basically doesn't exist until his eighteenth birthday."
"Which leads me to my next question: is 'Caffrey' really Neal's name?"
"What do you mean?"
"What do you think I mean?" Peter growled in mounting irritation. "Is 'Neal Caffrey' an alias?"
"No." Mozzie said firmly. "Absolutely not."
"What makes you so sure?"
"Because the only way to get a real birth certificate and social security number is to take one from a child that died at birth and that is the one step too far that Neal absolutely refuses to take."
"So you've suggested it to him in the past?"
"Just trust me, 'Caffrey' is Neal's real name, it has to be."
"Has Neal ever mentioned a Daniel White?"
"Not that I can recall. What is going on?"
"I have no idea."
Peter hung up on Mozzie. It had been a long shot that Mozzie would have any useful information that he was going to be willing to share. Peter put his hand in his pocket and realized that he still had the diamonds there. With the new information he'd almost forgotten the problem with the Hope Diamond. He went into his bedroom and put the diamonds in the briefcase. Keeping the black diamond out he turned it over in his hand as he inspected it.
"I can't imagine these being worth anything."
Curious about the diamond's value Peter sat down on the bed and pulled out his laptop. Peter was surprised to find that the plain looking black diamonds often sold for close to or above white diamond prices. Assuming the stone was stolen Peter logged onto his Federal account and started searching for a report. It didn't take long to find it. He was surprised to find the stone used to be in New York. He and Neal had been busy on an embezzling case when the stone had been stolen. The case file for the diamond was probably sitting on Peter's desk waiting for him.
"The Kaala Diamond, also known as 'The Eye of Shiva', a fifty-nine carat radiant cut black diamond was reported stolen one week ago from a private collection in New York, New York." Peter read the report summary. "There are currently no leads on the theft, a diamond of this size and color would not be easy to resell and has most likely been cut into smaller stones. Appraised value at time of theft: 900,000$."
Holding the black stone in his hand Peter had no doubt that he was holding 'The Eye of Shiva'. He also had no doubt that both stones were taken by the same thief. What he didn't understand was why anyone would use such a valuable rock to send Neal a message. Peter also doubted that Neal didn't know the name of the person who gave it to him. Peter spent an hour researching the stone's history before he became tired enough to turn in for the night.
The next morning Peter woke early. When he went out into the living room Neal was still sleeping. Peter made a quick call to Diana, but she still didn't have the sealed records. Not sure how much information Walters had behind where the paintings had come from Peter decided that he needed to confront Neal about the other Caffrey today.
Knowing that Neal would never even begin to talk in the bugged hotel room Peter went downstairs to ask the front desk for a favor. Using his badge Peter managed to get the keys to the penthouse suite for the day. When he returned to the room Neal was sitting up. Leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees he was staring vacantly at the floor.
"Neal?"
Peter couldn't remember a time when he'd ever managed to sneak up on Neal, but he nearly jumped to his feet when Peter spoke. Recovering quickly Neal looked over and smiled. Peter noticed once again that Neal's smile was forced. The corners of his lips rose, but his eyes remained dull.
"Where did you go last night?" Neal asked.
"What?"
"You were gone after the interrogation and then you weren't here when I got back. I tried to stay awake, but I was really tired."
"I got lost on my way back."
"That's what your GPS is for, it works in DC just as well as in New York." Neal pointed out. "I found out what Walters really wants."
"I know. I was in the observation room. I saw the whole performance."
"It was good, wasn't it?" Neal chuckled.
"Award winning." Peter said dryly.
"Peter...what's wrong?" Neal asked suddenly as he got to his feet.
"What makes you ask?"
"You look like you want to say something, something I'm not going to like."
"How can you tell?"
"When you have bad news you always tighten your lips and put your hands on your hips knuckle side down in a fist rather than palm side down like normal."
Peter looked down and found that he did have his hands in fists on his hips rather than the more relaxed pose. Neal's keen observation skills never ceased to amaze. Taking his hands off his hips Peter looked around the room.
"We can't talk here, but I have somewhere that we can."
Understanding about the listening devices Neal nodded and followed Peter into the hall. Going to the elevator Peter used the key that the front desk had given him to allow him to push the button to the top floor penthouse. The elevator opened directly into the lavish room. Neal instantly started inspecting the upgraded room. While he was distracted Peter pulled out his smart phone and reset Neal's anklet. It was a setting that Neal didn't know about, it caused the anklet to beep out a warning if he went more than twenty feet from the phone.
"I take it the DEA doesn't own this room?"
"No, way out of even their price range." Peter said as he walked over to the love seat that was set up across from the couch. "Have a seat."
"Remember last night when you said I was making you nervous?" Neal asked rhetorically. "Now you're making me nervous."
"Just sit down."
"Peter, what is this about?" Neal asked, staying on his feet.
"Please, Neal, sit."
Neal still hesitated and looked around at all of the possible exits. The only real was out of the penthouse was the elevator, which didn't require a key to leave the same way it needed one to get in. Peter waited patiently and eventually Neal came over and sat on the edge of the couch. He was visibly tense with a wariness about him that reminded Peter of an abused dog, willing to come closer, but ready to run if he had to. It was so far from Neal's usual relaxed state that Peter started to have second thoughts about trying to talk about the blood now. Neal was already on high alert.
"Peter?" Neal asked when Peter didn't say anything.
"The Monet painting, the one of the Water Lilies...I found traces of blood on it."
The conversation was over before it even began. Neal's usually warm eyes turned to ice as his jawline sharpened from clenching his teeth. He got to his feet and went straight back to the elevator. A few feet from his goal Neal's anklet made a shrill sound. Startled Neal automatically took a step back and it fell silent again.
Neal tested his new range once more before turning a truly murderous glare on Peter. Keeping calm in hopes of salvaging the situation Peter waited for Neal to either sit back down or return to the elevator despite the noise. Neal stayed rooted to the floor while he made the decision. Eventually he returned to the couch and sat down. Crossing his arms over his chest Neal refused to make eye contact and just stared at the floor.
"Neal..."
"I want a lawyer."
"A lawyer?" Peter repeated in shock.
"You can't ask me any questions without a lawyer if I ask for one."
"Neal, this isn't an interrogation."
Clearly not convinced Neal continued to stare at the floor. Peter got the feeling that Neal would remain there motionless for hours if he had to. Trying to convince him that he wasn't looking to press any charges Peter took out his badge and tossed it onto the coffee table. Neal glanced at the universal symbol for their conversation being off the record but continued to stay silent.
"Neal, if I found the blood it is probably only a matter of time before Walters does. I want to help you, but I need to know what happened. I swear this conversation is just between you and me, strictly off the record."
"Don't make promises you can't keep."
"I'm not." Peter said honestly. "Who is Robert Caffrey?"
Peter might as well have just shot Neal through the chest. The name drained the color from Neal's face and physically stole his breath. Concerned by the violent reaction Peter leaned forward. Neal pulled back and looked over at the elevator before turning his attention back to the anklet.
Peter held his breath, praying that Neal wouldn't force him to draw his weapon. When Neal shifted his weight Peter's instinct caused him to bring his hand up into his jacket where his shoulder harness was. Neal saw the motion and stared at Peter in horror. Peter put his hand back down, but the damage had already been done.
Still locked in shock Neal was begining to pant for breath. Peter could swear that he could hear Neal's pulse racing until he realized it was his own heart pounding in his ears. Peter cused himself silent for reaching for his weapon. Any trust they had between them seemed to have disappeared in an instant. Neal's eyes brightened with unshed tears, but before any were shed he bowed his head in defeat.
"Are you afraid of me now?" Neal asked sadly.
"No. I'm sorry, it was just instinct."
"I wouldn't blame you if you were."
"I know you're not going to hurt me..."
"You can't know that."
Neal wrapped his arms over his stomach, looking like he was going to be sick. Peter was feeling nauseous himself. He wished there was something he could do to ease the obvious pain Neal was in. However it was too late to go back. If Neal wouldn't accept help now it would be too late later if Walters got a hold of any of this. Neal didn't look like he was anywhere near wanting to speak. Peter only had one card left to play.
"Neal," Peter said softly "is your real name 'Daniel White'?"
"No." Neal answered quietly.
"Who is Daniel?"
Neal just shook his head. He looked more unable rather than unwilling to talk. Peter gave Neal a few more minutes to think about answering. Looking completely shut down it didn't look like it was going to happen anytime soon.
"Neal, I wouldn't be asking you this if it wasn't important. I think there is a good chance that if you're not Daniel White that he is the one who sent Walters those paintings. He might be looking for revenge."
"No." Neal shook his head. "No, that's not possible."
"Why not?"
Once again Peter gave Neal time to answer. Eventually Neal looked up. He stared at Peter with an unreadable expression. He took a breath several times to say something, but each time he lost the courage to find his voice. Peter risked reaching out to rest his hand gently on Neal's arm in a silent show of support. A sad smile twitched at the corner of Neal's mouth, but it quickly faded.
"Neal?"
"Daniel's the reason I hate guns."
"I'm sorry, I don't understand."
"Daniel White is dead...I shot him."