I had started writing this all the way back by easter. Unfortunately I just never finished and I decided it might be time to update. Sorry all! Its summer and I will try to update as much as I can but I do have a life, and so far this is one of the best summers ever! Sorry! But here is the long awaited chapter.
"So the only way to get the kid back is for me to work the case?" Neal asked. He and Peter were in the elevator on the way up to the office, and Peter was briefing Neal on the case.
"Yep. The ransom note said that you would be the only person that would be able to find the painting." Peter told him. Neal just looked at him.
"Why me? There isn't that many people I know that would do this, and last time I checked, most of them were in Europe."
"Well, you can take a look at the note. It might narrow down a few suspects." Peter told him, as their elevator reached their floor. They stepped off in sync and made their way to the conference room, Neal stopping for a moment to set his bag by his desk.
"Diana, the case file please." Peter ordered upon entry to the room, Neal only a few steps behind.
Diana slid it across the table and Neal caught it, opening it in a swift motion. Peter watched Neal carefully as his eyes widened as he read the note, recognition obvious in his blue eyes.
"So you know this guy." Peter stated. Neal nodded, and looked up at Peter, a small trace of fear shone in his eyes.
"Yep. This is the work of Mathew Keller." Neal said confidently.
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"So let me get this straight," Peter said, pinching his forehead with a scowl on his face "you have a rival, but you're the good guy."
Neal nodded.
"And this Keller guy, he's your age and willing to kill to get what he wants."
Neal nodded.
"And he kidnapped a girl, stole a painting, then requested you to find it because he thought it would be fun."
Neal nodded.
Peter threw his hands up in the air. "That's it, no more teenagers after this. They are all crazy."
Diana and Jones, who had been in the conference room the entire time, chuckled, then turned serious. Peter turned back to Neal.
"So how can you tell it was him?" Peter asked. "There's no signature, no figure prints, nothing! The note is typed for god's sake!"
"Because, read it." Neal said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
The agents gathered around him as he read out the note.
"I've got the girl. Get your boy Caffery on the case and I'll send her back in one piece. I also have the painting. Lets see if you've improved on your chess game. Come and get me kid." Neal looked up at the agents with some hope, before something occurred to him.
"All that time spent looking into me, and Keller never showed up?" Neal questioned. Peter just glared at him.
"I thought I made that pretty obvious when I asked you to explain who he was." Peter said. Neal just shrugged.
"I allegedly worked with him several times in my alleged scores across Europe. Last I saw him, he shot a guy who just happened to stop us to hand us back one of our alleged thefts. He was just a random guy who bumped into Keller, and Keller dropped the package. The guy picked it up and apologized, Keller smiled and took it, then shot him point blank. I ran and tried to stay off his radar since. Last I heard he was working with some Russians." Neal explained.
"So how do you know it was him?" Peter still questioned.
"It's just a feeling. I've worked with him enough to know that he would pull something like this, and if we don't cooperate, he will kill that girl."
"So how do we find him?" Jones questioned.
"He left us a clue." Neal explained. At the agents questioning glance, he sighed. "The first time I met him, it was right here in New York. 'Lets see if you've improved on your chess game.' When I was 12, I made a living playing chess in Central Park. No one thinks a kid can beat him or her, so I earned money by betting on the game. It made decent money, plus with Mo- *cough* my friend was teaching me how to make a few extra bucks a different way, I got by. One day while I was practicing, I saw a guy who looked like an easy mark. He was only a few years older than me, and was chatting on a cellphone. The second I used my 'special skills' he grabbed my hand with one of his, and had a gun pinned to my chest. Don't ask me what he did with the phone, but I had about two seconds to think of a way out. So I thought of the first thing that popped into my head: chess. The guy agreed, stakes being that if I won I got half the cash in his wallet, if I lost, well, he never finished that sentence. I lost, but it was close. After the game, the guys introduced himself as Mathew Keller, and said he would be in touch. A few weeks later he sits down at the board again and says he has a job for me. Whenever he needed to contact me, he would stop by at the same table we first played at. He left something at that table. That's where to start."
"Okay. I'll drive him to central park. Jones, set up a command center here. I want you to look into anything about this Keller guy, see if we can find him without playing his game." Peter ordered, grabbing his jacket. "Neal, lets go."