Chapter 12: Undercover Assignment
Federal Building. January 31, 2005. Monday morning.
Peter scanned the group assembled for the morning briefing. In addition to Jones, Neal, and Travis, Tricia was also attending. Given the topic for this morning, Peter was particularly grateful that she could be present. Diana was on the phone with the Lynx Mountain Ski Resort and would join them later.
In his introductory remarks, Peter explained her presence. "Last week I'd submitted a request for Tricia to be assigned to the Azathoth case, but in light of the events yesterday, she's agreed to start immediately. We'll get caught up with the paperwork later."
"Up to now, our strategy for Azathoth in large measure has been a reactive one," Tricia said. "Although that approach has allowed us to fill in data points, it hasn't brought us any closer to being able to predict what his next move will be and how we can catch him. That's why I'm here. Over the past several years, forensic psychology has made significant strides in investigative behavioral analysis. We're going to use those tools to reveal the person behind Azathoth's mask."
"We're not going to wait for Azathoth to make his next move," Peter added bluntly. "It's up to us to start calling the shots. I'm challenging each of you to come up with fresh ways to tackle the problem. Azathoth has been thumbing his nose at us. That needs to end now."
"Aren't you ignoring another issue that needs to be discussed?" Jones asked. "You and Caffrey have been targeted twice. What sorts of additional measures should we take? Should we assign bodyguards for at least a few weeks?"
"What threat did he make?" Neal challenged. "A joke in extremely poor taste, yes. But did he send a letter saying I was a target? I don't think this rises to the level of a death threat."
"I agree with Neal," Tricia said. "Azathoth was demonstrating his ability to inflict emotional distress, but nothing else, at least for the moment."
"It's like a chess game," Neal added. "He's moving us around as if we were chess pieces, but we don't know why he's using this particular gambit. He won't try to take Peter or me out now because he's enjoying the game too much."
Tricia sided with Neal's assessment, and as a practical matter, having round-the-clock bodyguards for an indefinite period of time was simply not feasible.
"But that doesn't mean there aren't any defensive measures we can take," Travis said, placing a couple of watches on the table. "Here's something that should help."
Neal picked one up and studied it. "Not a bad fake Rolex. You went with the Submariner model. I might have gone with the Sky-Dweller."
"And miss the dive-time monitoring?" Travis countered. "Next time you have to make an emergency getaway from a submarine, you'll thank me."
"What capabilities have been built in that our old watches don't have?" Peter asked, picking up the other watch.
"It's waterproof to 800 feet. An expanded battery means you can record up to three hours of conversation. The GPS is more precise. This is the same model used by the CIA. It's not standard gear for the Bureau but I requested watches for you and Neal after the discovery of the USB drive. I hadn't heard back so did some calling on Friday. They arrived this morning."
Peter replaced his watch with the new one and advised Neal to do the same. "Thanks, Travis. This is standard equipment for us from now on."
When Diana arrived, Tricia grilled both her and Jones on their Lovecraft strategies. Tricia had been on assignment at Quantico when they first proposed their ideas. She was particularly fascinated by Diana's fanfiction project and wrote rapid notes while listening to her.
"If there's even the slightest chance Azathoth may read it, it's worth pursuing," Tricia commented. "Through carefully manipulating the characters and plots, you may be able to create a Lima syndrome, the reverse of a Stockholm syndrome. In the typical Stockholm syndrome, the captive expresses sympathy for the abductor. What we want is the opposite where Azathoth develops empathy toward Neal and Peter. I'd read a study of the phenomenon when I was at Quantico last month, and the results were promising. In some cases, the aggressors were manipulated to the point that they released their captives to avoid hurting them."
"In other words, 'these are not the Droids you're looking for,' " Neal said, a grin breaking out on his face.
"Exactly," Tricia agreed. "Diana needs to pull an Obi-Wan Kenobi maneuver where through her fiction she influences Azathoth to behave in a way sympathetic to us."
Diana exhaled noisily. "I'm a new author, guys. I haven't had the benefit of a Jedi Master's guidance."
"I'm no Yoda," Tricia said, "but if you don't mind, I'd like to help with the character design and plot structure."
Despite Tricia's disclaimer, Diana's enthusiastic agreement couldn't have been stronger if she'd been the Grand Master of the Jedi Order.
At the conclusion of the meeting, the team agreed to schedule weekly briefings with Tricia. Peter hoped they'd use any off time at the resort to refine their strategies for an enemy that up to now was acting with impunity.
Afterward, Neal and Travis approached him. "Travis and I'd like to talk privately to you about another tactic that may not be ready for prime time," Neal said.
When the three of them were sitting in his office, Neal explained, "This is really Travis's idea. Richard had called for an emergency meeting with Aidan yesterday before the band session and we explored it there."
Peter stopped him. "Wait a minute. You told Richard and Aidan what's going on?"
Neal looked uncomfortable as Travis fielded the question. "Richard insisted and I agree. There's no harm in having extra eyes watching for any signs of the glowing branch or other Lovecraft references."
"Such as tentacle-face," Neal added with a grin.
Travis didn't treat it as a joke. "That's right. If tentacle-face is walking around on campus, you wanna know about it, don't you?" Turning to face Peter, he said, "You know that Aidan works in cybersecurity, right?" At Peter's nod, he continued, "He feels that Azathoth is vulnerable to a software attack, specifically a Trojan horse. Azathoth's malware may be the chink in his armor that we're looking for."
"You got my attention," Peter said. "What are you proposing?"
"One of our difficulties has been our inability to predict which museum Azathoth will hit next. But what if we could lay a trap for him by embedding in museum security software an antivirus program that would not only defend against his malware but also infect it? Ideally, it would create trackers that would lead us to the source. It would also send us a signal when the malware has infected a security program. We may not want to quarantine the malware but simply override it. We could not only prevent the theft but also collect data exposing the hacker." In his enthusiasm, Travis's words began speeding up. "It could be like Enigma during World War II when the Allies had cracked the Enigma code but didn't reveal they were intercepting the messages till they were ready to strike."
Peter nodded slowly. "Tantalizing concept but how practical is it?"
"Aidan and I've talked shop during breaks at band sessions," Travis said. "He has the creativity and depth of knowledge of viruses and the software used to prevent them that could make him the right candidate for the job."
Chats during band breaks weren't the only way Travis had become familiar with Aidan's work. Peter was convinced that Aidan and Travis had somehow hacked Neal's anklet during Fowler's frame attempt. If that was the case, Travis would have acquired first-hand knowledge of Aidan's ability. Peter wished he could ask exactly how they'd managed to accomplish that feat but realized that was one of those annoying secrets about Neal he'd probably never learn.
"Travis and I discussed it with Aidan on Sunday night," Neal added. "We explained the nature of the problem and what sort of solution we'd like to have. The company he works for is a small group of programmers. They met at MIT and decided to go into business for themselves. An advantage to using them is that they're so small, they won't be on Azathoth's radar."
"I like the idea," Peter said. "Travis, start the vetting processing immediately and work with Jones to prepare the formal proposal. I'll speak with Jones about it today. You may have some time at the resort to work on the proposal when you're not watching Neal and me make fools of ourselves."
"Speak for yourself, Peter," Neal retorted. "This week we nail Rinaldi and the Dutchman. Next week we take it to Azathoth."
Diana knocked on the door and Peter waved her in. "Take a seat, Diana. I believe we're through."
Travis and Neal got up to leave, but Diana told Neal, "You better stay put. This concerns you too. I just got off the phone with the resort. I had to convince them to take Peter on as a ski instructor. Fortunately those talking points you'd supplied me with gave me what I needed. Boss, you're scheduled to begin on Friday morning as Peter Lamoureaux."
"Lamoureaux?" Neal grinned. "The French meaning should set Lily's heart on fire."
"Do I want to know what lamoureaux means?" Peter asked.
"It's a French-Canadian name meaning lover," Diana said with a decidedly wicked glint in her eyes.
"Wasn't there a Lamoureaux hockey player?" Neal tossed in hurriedly before Peter could object.
"Mitch Lamoureaux," Peter confirmed. "Since when do you follow hockey?"
"I don't. It was research for a job best forgotten."
Neal and hockey? That called out for details, but Diana was trying to move them back on track. "I checked on your status too, Neal. The resort is thrilled that Neal Legend is available for the weekend."
A click of heels was heard outside, and El stuck her head in. "Am I too early?"
"Not at all," Diana said. "I was just preparing to discuss the proper attire for Peter Lamoureaux."
"Lamoureaux?" El smiled as she stepped into the room. "My heart is beginning to flutter already." Neal stood up to offer her his chair and she murmured to him, "You don't know how happy I am to see you alive and unharmed."
Neal tapped his jacket pocket. "Cell phone's on, fully charged."
Sunday had been a wake-up call. When Peter returned home, he gave El his full-throttle lecture on safety measures. So far Azathoth had shown no inclination to go after family members, but that could change at any moment. Perhaps it was for the best that El would also be at the resort. That way he wouldn't have to worry about her being alone in Brooklyn.
#
El had surveyed discount clothing outlets on the Lower East Side in the morning. By the time she met Peter at work, she'd zeroed in on a store where Peter liked the clothes, and the prices didn't make his head swim. And since the store was close to Little Italy, it made sense to stop off at Luna's Restaurant on Mulberry Street before returning to work. After a meal of black mussels, they lingered over cannolis and espresso.
"I feel caught in a weird disconnect between the threat posed by Azathoth and going off to a mountain resort as Peter Lamoureaux, ski instructor," Peter admitted. "Tricia and I discussed it before the briefing. She and I both agree that it will take time to develop an effective strategy against Azathoth. In the meantime, if we miss this opportunity with Rinaldi, who knows when we'll have another one."
El set down her fork and gazed at him with sympathy. "This is a good time for us to be away, but I'm not worried about our home security. Thanks to the upgrades Mozzie put in place both for us and June, Azathoth will be out of luck." She fingered her espresso cup for a moment. "From what you said, June handled your unexpected arrival well."
"She did. I wish Fiona hadn't been present. The way Travis and I stormed in, it's no wonder she was shaken."
"It wasn't your fault. Azathoth could have been holding all of them prisoner."
"It was Fiona's first time to be in an armed confrontation. That I should be the one—"
"Better you than Azathoth," El interjected.
"It makes me appreciate more than ever how you cope with the stresses of my job."
El shrugged. "When you were first assigned to White Collar, I wanted to believe you wouldn't be placed in as many dangerous situations as would have been the case if you'd been in Violent Crime, for instance. But I've been forced to accept that there are no guarantees for any job in the Bureau. It's something that families have to learn to deal with. Some aren't able to. It's no surprise the divorce rate among FBI personnel is so high."
He reached across the table to squeeze her hand. "You're proving yet again how lucky I am to have you."
"Do you think it would help if I talked with Fiona?" El suggested. "I can relate to how she felt. I remember my reaction all too well when I discovered you were carrying a gun on a date. That's when your job became real to me."
"I'm sure Fiona would appreciate hearing from you. You should first discuss it with Neal though. Don't be surprised if he declines the offer. Neal's been shielding his work activities from her."
"I'm not surprised," El said. "There's a lot of Sir Gawain in Neal. He's cast himself as the knight-errant and is determined to keep her safe in a castle. But Fiona may want somebody who trusts her enough to let down the drawbridge."
Was El speaking about Fiona or herself? Ever since Neal had brought up the subject, Peter had been weighing it over. He was guilty too.
"Peter, what is it?"
Looking into her understanding eyes, Peter knew what he had to do. He told her about the evidence found on the flash drive in the apartment in Flushing. El took it well, as he knew she would.
"I can understand why you didn't tell me, but you're not going to do that in the future, are you?" she said, not belaboring the point. "I want that drawbridge to stay lowered."
Peter winced and took a breath. "Are you ready to face another dragon? This dragon isn't as fierce but could present as much of a challenge."
El looked at him in surprise. "After going that far, you better go ahead and tell me what's going on."
Peter proceeded to explain his concerns about Henry. El listened in silence as Peter told her how Henry had been researching Fowler and was now denying it.
"And Neal knows nothing about this?"
"Correct, at Henry's request. Tricia believes if we don't put pressure on him, Henry will eventually do the right thing and fill us in. But we haven't heard anything so far. He's down in South America, doing who knows what. He's Joe and Noelle's responsibility, not mine, but this is getting into a very gray area. I don't have any evidence, only suspicions. Am I doing the right thing to remain quiet?"
El considered his question. "Tricia could be right. Henry would prefer to work on the case openly with you and Neal. Perhaps he's seeking a means to make it an official case. Working with you and Neal is a lure that Henry's too much of a honey bear to resist. If you don't scare him off now by telling others, he's going to come in for the honey."
#
Jones spent the morning reviewing the recordings from the Rinaldi household. When Peter returned from lunch, he called the others together for Jones to brief them.
"What we learned is that Mandy Rinaldi is one spoiled daughter," Jones said. "We were only able to place bugs in the dining room. The other rooms all had live detection devices. Luckily for us, the one in the dining room had been disabled for the party. The trip to the ski resort is ostensibly to celebrate Mandy's birthday, but Max Rinaldi is taking advantage of the weekend to meet with several real estate investors on a proposed golf course community in Westchester. It sounds like his daytime schedule is fully booked."
"Diana, see if you can find out which rooms have been reserved for his use," Peter requested. "I want dates, times, and names."
"I'll also get the names of all those holding reservations," she promised. "We'll run background checks on them."
"What did you learn about Lily?" Neal asked.
Jones exhaled noisily. "She likes to party. Big drinker. She was talking with someone—apparently a close friend—and they discussed what hunks might be present at an upcoming bash. They'd had a party a couple of weeks ago and rented The Full Monty." Jones looked pleadingly at Peter as Neal grinned. "Is it absolutely necessary to repeat their conversation about it?"
"In the interest of thorough preparation, I'll need details," Neal said solemnly.
Peter sighed. "Make the full transcript available to everyone, Jones. That should be adequate for now."
"What were the relations between Max and Lily like?" Diana asked.
"Practically non-existent. The only time they were recorded in conversation was during the toasts. Rinaldi dotes on the girl. During the toasts, he got up and sang 'Thank Heaven for Little Girls' to her. If Rinaldi has a soft spot, it has to be for his daughter."
"We'll drive in a Bureau van to the resort on Thursday morning," Diana said. "We should arrive early afternoon. The Rinaldis are flying in late in the day. They were recorded mentioning that Mandy had to attend school on Thursday. We'll have plenty of time to get into position. The Rinaldis have booked a suite on the top floor. Maintaining my cover of a wealthy writer, I've booked a suite a few doors down from theirs on the same floor. The rest of you will be staying in staff quarters in the basement."
"Neal Legend is used to a higher standard," Neal commented, looking chagrined.
Diana was unfazed. "Oh really? I remember hearing tales of you and Henry sleeping in his car on more than one occasion. Now at least you'll have heat. I assume your wardrobe is already well in hand. Do you need it to be vetted?"
"Not necessary. Fiona and June have already weighed in. How's Peter's look shaping up?"
"Once Elizabeth and I are finished with him, he'll be the best-dressed man at the resort," Diana said confidently.
#
The next day, Peter planned to take advantage of not having any meetings to catch up on paperwork.
It was snowing outside, with light flakes coming down. Conditions at the ski resort were the best they'd been in years. It had been a season of near-record snowfall. Although Peter wouldn't admit it to the others, he was secretly looking forward to hitting the slopes of Lynx Mountain. Normally about the only time he was able to ski was over the Christmas holiday, but this year they'd gone to Hawaii instead. As soon as the paperwork was done, he planned to watch ski instructor videos and prepare to assume the identity of Peter Lamoureaux—master skier and suave ladies' man.
As he reached into the drawer for another file, his phone rang. "Peter, this is Sara. Did I catch you at a bad time?"
"No, I'm glad you called. How's the investigation going?"
"We haven't found anything to indicate that it wasn't an honest mistake. The authenticator was interviewed and is deeply embarrassed. Up to now his record has been spotless, so our inclination is to take him at his word. In an ideal world we should reevaluate the other works he's done for us, but ..." her voice trailed off.
"Trying to accomplish that would be a challenge," Peter agreed. "The works are now at museums or with individuals. You'd have to go to them and explain the first mistake which would be an embarrassment and perhaps cause you to lose customers." He doubted Sterling-Bosch would ever get around to it. Their reputation would be too badly damaged.
"Exactly. We've been told to confine our investigation to the Corot." Peter could hear the frustration in her voice. "And even if we had the works reauthenticated, that's no guarantee. I'm developing a deeper understanding of how murky establishing provenance is. Have you been able to piece together any evidence about who did the forgery?"
"The painting appears to have been made by a master forger who's been operating for several years, but so far we don't have a name."
"Klossner doesn't seem like the type to have used a master forger."
Peter hesitated about how much to reveal to Sara about the upcoming operation. Normally details would be kept confidential, but in her role as liaison to Weatherby's she could trace any other dealings Max Rinaldi might have had with either Sterling-Bosch or Weatherby's. If Rinaldi had been involved in selling something else, it could have an important bearing on the case. He decided to go ahead and ask her to research Rinaldi's name for any transactions.
She promised to look into it. "Weatherby's has requested that I be their primary contact with Sterling-Bosch, so I'll come to New York more often in the future. They want to conduct a reevaluation of their authentication procedures, and I'll represent Sterling-Bosch on the advisory panel."
"Congratulations. That sounds like a promotion."
"Thanks, I think. I'll certainly be racking up the frequent flyer miles."
"Neal told me the life of a globetrotter was what you wanted."
"Airport hassles, jet lag, and flight delays are combining to make it not quite as attractive as I thought it would be," she admitted ruefully.
Peter wasn't going to dispute what she said. Not having to travel was, in his opinion, one of the tangible benefits of his current job.
On Wednesday, Neal was back at work after a day at home rehearsing songs. When Diana challenged him about his ability to be a club singer, he'd given an impromptu concert in the bullpen, moving around the desks, singing a cappella, and making smarmy eyes at the women. His actions were so outrageous that everyone was in stitches, Peter included. And after the scare on Sunday, Peter wasn't about to give him grief for dialing down the tension. The kid was a natural ham. He was singing those Frank Sinatra songs as if he were old Blue Eyes himself. From the reactions of the female agents, Neal was going to have no trouble winning over Lily and Mandy.
Peter and El had stayed up late the previous night discussing the weekend. El would drive up with her friends on Friday. They were staying in a different wing of the lodge, so the op shouldn't have any bearing on their activities. El would take Satchmo since the resort had a dog kennel on the premises. Based on the brochure she'd shown him, Satchmo's quarters would be luxurious enough to spoil him for any other kennel in the future.
One of El's friends was a travel agent and had been able to get them a special rate, but even so, it was expensive. El was trying to finesse a way for it to be called a business expense. She planned to speak with the resort's management about using their facilities for event planning. Peter was rapidly acquiring expertise in the many tax incentives afforded to small businesses. He should take some of their tax savings for them to go on vacation after the op was over. El was already asking him to teach her how to ski. Someday they might return to Lynx Mountain. The guest rooms had fireplaces. He could see them sitting by the fire late at night after being on the slopes ...
Diana knocked on the door, rousing him from his daydreams. "You free, boss? We have one last training session planned."
"Another one?" Peter groaned. "What hasn't been covered?"
"Logistics drill. We need to synchronize our moves."
"For gaining access to the Rinaldi suite?"
"Right, of course." There was something about Diana's tone that heightened his suspicions. "We'll use Conference Room L," she added. "It's more convenient." Conference Room L was a seldom-used space at the end of a long hallway at the back of the building.
Peter descended the stairs to the bullpen and was surprised to see El there. She hadn't said anything in the morning about coming to the Bureau. She was deep in conversation with Neal who had a handwritten list he was pointing at. El waved him a greeting when she noticed him standing at the foot of the stairs. She was wearing a pleated skirt with her heels. It didn't look like her normal business attire. Red alarm sirens blared in his head and when Neal turned to him, he knew something was up. That mischievous glint in Neal's eyes was the only confirmation he needed.
"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Peter asked when he greeted her.
"You owe it to me," Diana said smugly. "In my role of op coordinator, I asked her to come. Jones is meeting us in the conference room. He's preparing the equipment."
"And what equipment are we talking about?" Peter muttered to Neal.
"Highly specialized technical equipment," Neal said. "I wouldn't want to bore you with the specs."
El patted his arm. "Relax, hon. You're going to like this, and even if you don't, I'm going to."
She refused to give any further explanation till they entered the room and the conspiracy became obvious. The table had been moved to one end and the chairs pushed against the walls. Jones's "highly specialized technical equipment" was a small stereo system. Diana pulled out a CD from her bag and inserted it into the player.
"Jones, care to explain yourself?" Peter demanded.
"Diana and I realized yesterday afternoon that we'd failed to prepare for one of the main activities being held at the resort, and one which we feel may play a key role in the success of the op."
"Vital role," Neal corrected.
"Exactly," Diana said with an approving nod. "This is an area where we felt El's assistance was needed, and when I called her yesterday, she graciously agreed to come in. The resort is holding a dance on Saturday evening"— Peter let out a loud moan, causing El to clap her hand over his mouth—"and this will be one of our best chances for you to make a connection with Lily. We don't know which one of you two studs she'll be most interested in, so you both need to be prepared. Dancing is not something Caffrey needs to practice. You on the other hand ..." Diana finished the thought with a shrug.
What had El told them?
"Diana called me to ask about your level of expertise, and I had to be honest," El said with a regretful shrug. "You have to admit you haven't exactly been enamored with the thought of going dancing. The last several times I mentioned it, you begged off, and even when we were dating, getting you to dance with me was an ordeal."
What followed was not as bad as Peter feared. Diana had made a CD of dance tunes. They started with "Are You Ready for Love." As the upbeat song began playing and the others started snapping their fingers and jiving, Peter found it impossible not to join in.
After the first dance, Jones cut in to dance with Diana, and Neal assumed the role of dance instructor. "Move those hips, Peter."
"I am moving my hips."
"Not like that. Swing 'em like you mean it." Neal demonstrated with a set of gyrations Peter had no hope of imitating.
"I am swinging 'em," Peter protested, getting frustrated. "It's just my pants aren't as tight as yours so you can't tell."
"You want to lower your center of gravity." Neal shoved him closer to El.
"Is this close enough?" Peter yelled back, wrapping his arms around her.
"Oh yeah, babe," El murmured in his ear. "I'm melting for you."
"Keep talking like that," Peter whispered back, "and I'll take you dancing more often."
Notes: Thanks to Penna Nomen for creating a fascinating backstory about Neal and Henry's adventures as Urban Legend in the years after Neal ran away from home. The details can be found in Caffrey Disclosure. At the end of Caffrey Disclosure, Peter had arranged to keep Neal's alias of Neal Legend available for future use, and Neal's taking advantage of it now. There are a few references to The Queen's Jewels in this chapter. The hacking of Neal's tracking anklet by Aidan and Travis and the upgrades Mozzie made to June and Peter's security systems both occurred in that story.