The Woman in Blue

Chapter 11: Exploring Options

Neal wasn't conning Peter when he said he had to be at Columbia that evening. Granted, he may have overplayed the meeting with the professors. Conceivably one or two would come by and critique his work. But there was no denying the plain and simple truth that he wasn't ready to meet with Peter. What had gone down in Queens had been a disaster. He'd rather not blow it twice in one day.

The studio assigned to him at Watson Hall had become a welcome refuge from everything else going on in his life, and he'd never needed it as much as now. Neal tallied the damage from the past twenty-four hours as he walked from the subway exit to the building.

Problem Number One: Mozzie. Although he knew about the Leopard, he wasn't aware of Neal's involvement, and Neal intended to keep it that way. Eventually Mozzie would fixate on something else, and the problem would go away. But for the short term, the prudent course was to keep him at a distance. Mozzie knew him so well that conning him was a challenge. Besides, it left a bitter taste in Neal's mouth to deceive his old friend.

Problem Number Two: Peter. Neal continued to believe his instincts were right. If he hadn't gone after ninja-dude, they wouldn't know anything about him. And he wouldn't have handled it any differently if he'd been armed. But if Peter required that he be armed to do his job, so be it. He'd carry a gun but never use it.

Problem Number Three: Klaus. Guilt over his death had almost led him to take a nosedive into the dumpster. Last spring, he'd subjected his friends to unnecessary pain when issues from the abuse he'd suffered as a child resurfaced. The last thing he wanted was to put them through the grinder again. The Bureau could write him off as being psychologically unfit. So he'd handle the Klaus mess on his own. The therapy sessions with his aunt had given him the necessary tools. He'd face up to his fears and not let some ghost wreck everything he was trying to achieve.

So where did that leave him? For Problem Number One, the plan had already been set in motion. For Problem Number Two, the day of reckoning would be tomorrow. Problem Number Three still needed work, but a little extra training could do wonders to boost his morale. For instance, he could scale down the outside of June's mansion rather than take the stairs. Making sure no cops saw him added an extra element of risk. Neal smiled. Operation damage control was ready to launch.

At the entrance to Watson Hall, he paused to scan the bulletin board. The accumulation of a month's worth of notices gave the board the appearance of a large shaggy dog. Flyers were tacked on top of earlier notices. Political clubs, dance groups, LGBT meetings, athletic groups, roommate-wanted appeals, pizza coupons, the diversity was astounding. Somebody needed to recreate it as a collage sculpture if it hadn't already been done.

Neal had made a game of scrutinizing the board every time he went to his studio. Picking out the new flyers was a good technique to practice pattern recognition. Today it was easy to find the new arrival since it had been tacked on with a small plastic sword. He awarded the Columbia Fencing Club an extra point for originality. 

He had joined the Chelsea Fencing Club in lower Manhattan over the summer. Under his Gary Rydell alias, he was known to be an expert. The club had proved to be a useful hangout for Gary. But once his classes started, finding the time to practice had been next to impossible. He hadn't thought about fencing at Columbia but it would be more convenient.

As he tore off a strip with contact information, a student with red curly hair approached him. "You fence?"

"I dabble," Neal said. "You?"

"Fenced as an undergrad. Joined the club last week." He held out his hand. "I'm Aidan Phillips."

"Neal Caffrey. Are you in Visual Arts too?"