"Matthew Keller," Peter said to the assembled in the conference room. "Neal's ex-partner."
"That's stretching it," the kid commented.
"As most of you know, last year, Keller broke out of prison during his transfer to a maximum-security facility."
"He also arranged to have you kidnapped," Jones pointed out.
"I remember that," Peter said, but that was irrelevant at the moment. "Unfortunately, he got away then. But up until this week, his trail was cold. Jones?"
"Keller recently turned up on some security footage in Egypt," he said and arranged for images on the TV screen, where they saw Keller do a classical and unsophisticated smash-and-grab in a museum.
"Apparently, he's been taking advantage of the political unrest in the region," Peter said.
"While the people and police take to the streets, he takes priceless pieces from museums," his pet convict said. "Classic Keller."
"Well, this time, he did well for himself," Diana said, handing the kid some documents. "He stole this… You're looking at a one-of-a-kind 3,500-year-old amulet."
"Once in the tomb of Narmer the First. The amulet of the lost pharaoh."
Was that greed or simple awe of a historical item in the kid's voice? Peter was not sure.
"The new Egyptian government considers it a national treasure and, obviously, irreplaceable," Peter said.
"Do we have any leads on where Keller may be?" Neal asked.
"He's off the grid again," Diana said, "but the Egyptians believe the amulet's been smuggled into Manhattan."
"The Bureau wants us to find it and return it," Peter made clear. "We exercise extreme caution, given Keller's involvement. He's in our city; we bring him to justice. Neal, let's talk."
The kid followed him into his office.
"It's nice weather. Let's go for a walk."
"Okay."
They walked to the elevator.
"What did Sara have to say?" he asked on the way down. The kid sent him a look.
"Is that not something between me and Sara?"
"I guess," Peter sighed. "I was just glad to see you both in the same spot again. I didn't mean to pry."
"Yes, you were, Peter." There was that little smile in the corner of the kid's mouth.
"Yup."
"Did you take me out on a walk to discuss Sara?"
"No." They walked down the street. "What do you think Keller's up to?"
"It's too early to tell. Whatever we think he's doing, he's probably three steps past it by now."
"Why risk doing business in the U.S., with someone in New York?"
"Oh, he's always been brazen."
Peter stopped by the newspaper stand he had passed on the way to the office. He pulled out the newspaper that had caught his attention then. He showed it to Neal.
"Think they're on to us?" The headline said, 'Nazi sub discovered off coast of U.S. Alien Technology inside?' His friend chuckled. "Has Keller contacted you?"
"No. Why?"
"As hard as we've tried, versions of what happened to Adler's sub have leaked out."
"It's hard to keep a secret that big." Peter watched Neal's face, looking for undertones, hints of something else, but there were none.
"Yeah," Peter nodded. "Keller's a smart guy. He starts putting those rumors together..."
The kid got where he was aiming.
"You're wondering if he made the same assumption you did," he said.
"If he's thinking you're in possession of one billion worth of lost artwork, that's a reason big enough to draw him back. For it, and for you."
"If he thinks I stole the treasure," Neal said, "let's use it to take him down."
Peter nodded. It was something they could use. He put the paper back in the rack. When he turned back, he blinked and looked again.
"What?" Neal asked.
"It's nothing." Peter shrugged. He had thought he had seen Keller. But just in the corner of his eye. It's just something his brain made up. The man had not been there when he had looked closer.
"We found it," Peter said when Neal entered the conference room. "The New York connection between the Egyptian stolen amulet and Keller."
"Great," the kid grinned. "Anybody we know?"
"You tell me," he said, turning on the TV with an entry from Interpol Watch List. "The Egyptians believe the shipment was sent to an ancient civilizations expert in Soho named Raquel Laroque."
"I know the name," Neal said. "She's an Egyptologist."
"Apparently, that's her day job." Peter handed him a file. He glanced at it.
"She's a fence?" he asked.
"And a damn good one," Peter grinned. "Check out her concealment technique. The shipments she gets look like Egyptian gift shop tchotchkes. But in reality... They're highly durable X-ray-proof molds built around real, priceless artifacts."
"The mummy returns. Sexy."
"Thought you might like that." Peter glanced at the con man, wondering if he was feeding the beast instead of taming him. "Ms. Laroque has put out word that she's in the market for a restoration tech."
"She needs someone to extract the artifacts without damaging them," Neal concluded. "It's challenging work."
"Mm," Peter agreed. "Know anyone who can pull it off?" Neal looked at him with that look of confidence he had hoped for. "Talk to your crime super-friends and make it happen. We get this amulet, we're one step closer to Keller."
"All right."
Neal had every intention of making Peter's plan happen. That didn't mean he did not use the opportunity to do something else with Mozzie. As it were, his friend was heading towards a more deserted part of the docks. They were meeting a common friend and fence.
"Hey, what do you know about Raquel Laroque?" he asked.
"Not much beyond she's an Egyptologist," Mozzie answered. "I hear she's spicy."
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know. Not all my information's helpful."
They were there.
"Hale!" Neal greeted the warm and friendly man, and they hugged and laughed. "What's up, man?" Hale and Mozzie had their greetings. Neal glanced at the man's car. "I heard Moz did some work on your mobile office."
"Yeah, I'm still learning all the bells and whistles. Mozzie refuses to write down instructions."
"Obviously, we don't want any public record of our modifications," Moz said.
"I'll settle for that Degas you keep promising," Hale said.
"It's coming." Mozzie sent him a glance, which Neal returned with a firm 'no.' "Soon."
"Yeah, we had a minor complication," Neal said. "What if we could get you something better?"
"Well, my buyer has his heart set on that Degas—"
"Before we can move any of it, do you know a fence named Raquel Laroque?" Neal asked.
"I do," Hale nodded. "She has this intricate concealment technique."
"Yeah, that's what I'd like to talk to her about. She's in the market for a new restoration tech."
"If you get the job, that will help eliminate your delay with the Degas?"
"Uh, yes," Moz said. "Uh, you vouch for Neal; it will expedite the sale."
"Neal?" Hale asked.
"It will," Neal lied. Getting Keller was far more important. That Degas would stay where it was.
"All right, then," Hale smiled. "I'll set up a meeting."