Chapter 3
Neal had lost track of time. He had been alone in the interrogation room for hours. The Captain cuffed him upon leaving and he had to fight the urge to free himself from the restraints. Stay put. Wait. Prove to Diana that he did not intend to flee. That he was willing to tell her what he knew, even if it wasn't much. That he was ready to explain what happened all those years ago, why he had to lie to everyone and leave New York and never come back. But in order to do so, he needed someone to talk to.
The door opened behind him. He fought the urge to turn around. He simply kept staring at the wall in front of him. He heard heels coming closer, and Diana appeared beside him. She sat down without a word. Her gaze was full of reproach, but Neal did not look away. He didn't want to be the first to speak. He hoped she would uncuff him as a sign of trust, but she didn't move. Motionless and silent. Finally, he could not stand it anymore.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I know that you think I betrayed you, but I only wanted to protect you. You, Jones, Peter and Elisabeth. Even Mozzie doesn't know that I'm alive. It was the price to pay."
This introduction surprised Diana. She had expected the con man to find a huge lie, an incredible story to explain the situation. She also thought that he would claim his innocence regarding the crimes she was investigating. In fact, she expected anything but excuses.
Faced with his friend's muteness, Neal kept talking. He was desperate to help her understand what happened.
"I knew that Woodford would seek revenge. I knew that betraying the Panthers came with a price. I knew that if I survived, they would come after the people I cared about. So I decided to die. I had everything planned. Keller's reaction, the gun loaded with blanks, the blood bag, the ambulance woman whom I paid so she would pretend I had really been shot. The pill that made me look dead. The safe house where I stayed afterwards. The drive out of New York and the flight out of the US. I knew there would be no coming back. Even behind bars, the Pink Panthers would seek revenge against all of you if they ever found out I was alive. I'm so sorry."
Diana had been staring at him while he was talking. She knew him enough to realize that the con man was sincere. But she was also aware of the fact that he was a very good liar, who could convince anyone he was telling the truth, even the best of cops. But his story sounded real. The gang would never let a traitor go on with his life. And there were still the art thefts. Who other than the great Neal Caffrey could perform such heists without leaving a single trace? Probably no one. She had to ignore her feelings, it was her duty.
"We're not here to talk about the past, Caffrey. Where were you on July 12th, August 14th and September 19th? We already know you stayed in the cities where the heists took place. What were you doing there?"
Neal was hurt when he heard Diana called him by his last name. He wasn't Neal anymore, just Caffrey. A criminal, not a friend. He kept silent for a little while, he needed time to think this through. He could call a lawyer. Something he had never done before, not even the first time Peter caught him, such a long time ago. That memory broke his heart. He was good, he knew how to answer without lying and with no risk of incriminating himself. Ask for an attorney would make him look guilty. He had nothing to hide. Since he supposedly died, he had done nothing illegal.
"I was searching for inspiration. I've used a lot of sketchbook pages. I painted too, even so my original work does not sell as easily as the copies I once made," he explained, a small smile playing on his lips.
"How do you make a living?"
"I have some savings. I don't need much."
Diana was skeptical. Neal Caffrey always had a taste for luxury and he lived in a mansion in the 16th District. His house probably cost him a fortune.
"Where do these savings come from?"
"There was a time when I had a very profitable job, but I retired," he answered, not even flinching.
"Do you have anything to do with these heists, Neal?"
Coming back to a first name base took him by surprise. He answered on a smoother note.
"I have nothing to do with it, I swear. I've done a lot of things in my life, but I have not stolen anything since I left New York. I do my best to be the man Peter would like me to be, even so he will never know."