White Collar AU Siegel

Desk Drawer

Neal sat at his desk ostensibly looking over a mortgage fraud case. It had been five minutes since the last of the white-collar division staff had gone to lunch including Peter. Except for Agent Siegel; he was still in his private office with the blinds shut all the way around the windows. He had done this every day at lunchtime since he'd arrived. But whenever Neal arrived back from his own lunch, the blinds would be open again, and Siegel would either be settling back in for work after seeming having been gone for lunch or else would come in shortly afterwards. Neal had come back about 10 minutes early and noticed that Siegel consistently returned 5 minutes before 1:00.

Neal looked up to the noise of an opening door, and watched his new handler come down the steps. "Not gone to lunch yet, Mr. Caffery," he said, "I was told a nasty rumor that you dislike mortgage fraud cases, but you seem really invested in this one. Perhaps I should rethink things and keep a few cold cases on the back burner to give you as performance rewards."

Neal grimaced at his handler's quip and said, "Actually, I loathe mortgage fraud cases, so please do not use them as a reward. I'm just trying to, well, you know, just end the suffering sooner."

"One thing I have had to learn is that staring at a case file too long can make the case harder to crack. Go to lunch and come back with a clear head. You have spent enough time with this one for now." The two men walked toward the elevators and Neal pushed the button. However, Agent Siegel turned and went into the restroom instead. Neal rode the elevator from the 21st floor till it stopped on the 17th. Then he took the opportunity to get off when another passenger got on. He walked to the stairwell and jogged back up to the 21st floor.

Bursting noisily into the main office, he called out, "Hey, Agent Siegel, have you seen my hat? It's not on Socrates!" Neal had accidentally left it in the conference room earlier and was annoyed with himself when another meeting he wasn't a part of took over the room before he had a chance to fetch it, but now he was glad for his misstep. "Oh, never mind. Here it is," he called while retrieving his hat and tossing it on his head with a flourish. He popped into the bathroom and there was not a sound or movement. It seemed Siegel had finally gone. Smiling to himself, Neal strode to his handler's office door. He would be able to find out if the agent had figured out about Mozzie. Trying the door, he found it unlocked. The light was off but there was plenty to see by from the window, so Neal left it off in case someone came into the main office unexpectedly. He crossed over to the agent's very clean desk; apparently, he had returned whatever he had been working on to his desk drawers. Neal tried the top drawer. It was locked. So, Neal pulled his lock picks out of his inner coat pocket and set to work. Even though he was sure no one was in any part of the White-Collar division office, Neal worked quietly. It was good practice for anytime he needed to surreptitiously open locked doors or drawers when there were people about. However, when the mechanism unlatched it popped open with a resounding "tunk," which filled the private office. Neal shook his head and said, "I need practice."

Then from the side of the desk opposite to the door, there was a loud sigh. Neal froze as his heart pounded loudly in his chest and his ears rang viciously. Through the ringing, Neal heard Siegel's voice coming from the side of the desk, "Remember me, O Lord, when you come into your kingdom. Remember me, O Master, when you come into your kingdom. Remember me, O Holy One, when you come into your kingdom." The agent rose and stepped around the desk to Neal. The conman, still recovering from the shock of Siegel's presence, did manage to unfreeze and lace his fingers behind his head. "You were unfortunate that I was lazy today, Mr. Caffery," he said evenly, "Had I been kneeling for my meditation, you would have seen my head over the desk and turned around and walked away." The man smiled graciously. "You may take your hands off your head. I am not arresting you. Subsidiarity, you know. I am competent to handle this indiscretion myself." Neal, his ears still ringing like they had been boxed, dropped his hands to his sides and starred at the man who had the look and sound of someone chattering pleasantly with a close friend. Reaching into his top desk drawer, Agent Siegel pulled out a file and opened it, revealing two pieces of sketch paper. One was the picture Neal drew of Mozzie. The other was the drawing he had had shown to Peter. His ears rang louder, and the room briefly dimmed to his eyes; at least Mozzie had refused to take a body from the morgue. "We will discuss this in more detail in the future, but yes, I am aware." Placing his hand on Neal's upper arm, Agent Siegel said, "Come on, let's go stop by your desk." The two men headed out of Siegel's office toward Neal's desk. The ringing in his ears had not subsided and he felt dizzy. As they moved down the steps, Neal stumbled. Siegel gripped his arm, stopping his fall. "Hey, easy now, I've got you," the agent's tone was softer and slightly deeper than normal. As he looked at Neal, his forehead creased slightly, making him look somewhat like a concerned Peter Burke.

Neal gave a slight smile and said, a little weakly, "You sound like Peter."

"Things change, but they can be for the better. Agent Burke will still be important in your life but give yourselves time to adjust." At the desk, Agent Siegel pulled out Neal's chair and helped him to sit. "Stay put," he said and turned and walked into the breakroom. He returned carrying two coffee mugs and a brown sack. "I assume you never ate." He placed a water-filled coffee mug in front of Neal and pulled out a paper wrapped sandwich from the bag. Opening the paper, revealed the sandwich was cut in half. He lifted one half and slid the other to Neal. As the two men ate the agent's lunch, Neal's ears stopped ringing and Siegel's concerned expression melted away. After they finished, he smiled broadly and said, "Here is what we are going to do, Neal. You are going to sit inside that interrogation room alone for the next hour and 15 minutes," he pointed to, ironically, the first one Neal had ever been in, "then I will come join you for 15 minutes and we will talk. You can tell me why you were breaking into my desk if you like or about whatever else or nothing at all, it is up to you. Then, I will leave you alone again for another hour and a half. After that, you will have a little over an hour of the day left to write a report to me concerning your perspective on the case you were examining this morning."

"I really wasn't concentrating very well," Neal interrupted sheepishly.

"I bet not. Nevertheless, you will have enough time to put something together for me. Then tomorrow, we will simply start wherever we leave off. Please lock your phone and wallet in your desk drawer, and otherwise empty your pockets. No ball or paper and pencil in there. I just want you to sit in there alone with your thoughts, no playing or working with anything and no pacing. Do you understand?"

"I think so. But before I spend 3 hours in the box, can I go…" Neal looked toward the restroom.

"Of course." When Neal returned, Agent Siegel was standing beside the interrogation room, now with blinds closed. Pausing by his desk, Neal shot Siegel his best smile and made a show of putting his phone, wallet, miniature sketch book, and charcoal pencil into his desk and locking it. Then he placed a rubber band ball on top of the desk and walked toward his place of confinement. As he was about to step inside, Agent Siegel stopped him. "Hands on the wall, please," he said. Neal complied and the agent frisked him. He withdrew another rubber band ball from Neal's inner jacket pocket. "I thought you had another of these," he said, "I want you to know that something like this in the future would mean another 15 minutes on the end of your assignment." David Siegel stared at him sternly then said, "All right, inside with you. Sit quietly. I will see you in a hour and 15." As Neal entered and sat, he heard Siegel setting his watch. "Oh, hello Agent Burke. You are back from lunch early."

"I am. Anything you want to share with me?" Burke asked.

"No sir, nothing to report."

"Why is he in there?"

"Completing a task for me, sir."

"I see. Is that task related to the lock picking tools on your desk?"

"If it is, then I believe that would be between Mr. Caffery and me."

"Protecting a man who appears to have just been breaking into your desk seems odd for a man who recently put his old CI away for forging lottery tickets."

"I can hear you!" Neal finally said.

"Hush!" ordered his handler. "Agent Burke," he continued, "the situation with Hunter Ruin was more complicated than it appears on paper."

"But the door…" protested Neal, "It's awkward enough knowing your talking without hear…"

"I will shut the door when I see fit," Siegel replied sternly. "Call out again and you will stay in there half an hour longer. I beg your pardon sir. He is currently finishing out his sentence in a facility off the coast of Oregon specifically for long-term criminal informants unable to keep their contract for the duration of their sentence. I visited him there twice before coming to New York and am satisfied with what I saw. Knowing that he is safe and in community gives me tremendous peace of mind. If ever I am forced to cancel Mr. Caffery's work release, please know that I would move heaven and earth to send him there as well."

"Thank you, David. After spending time in protective isolation myself, the thought of Neal possibly spending years there has been weighing more heavily on me than usual. Knowing him like I do, this current assignment you've given him will be difficult enough."

"And on that note," the younger agent said. Neal heard him stepping closer. Then the door clicked shut, blocking out any further conversation between his old and new handlers.