The Woman in Blue

Chapter 16: Celestial Spheres

Lower Manhattan. Tuesday, October 19, 2004.

Promptly at two o'clock, Peter put aside his paperwork, rose from his desk, and left the office. His destination was Thomas Paine Park across the street from the Federal Building. It was a dreary, blustery day and the small park in Foley Square had only a few visitors. Feeling distinctly silly, Peter scanned the walk for a tic-tac-toe game marked in chalk. When he found it, he sat on the bench next to it. Pulling out his newspaper, he began working on the crossword puzzle.

A few minutes later, a muffled voice behind him said, "You're not following protocol. That's supposed to be the international section."

When Peter turned his head, Mozzie hissed, "Don't look at me!"

Unbelievable. "You're the one who requested this meeting. I refuse to talk to someone I can't see. Get over here."

A moment later, Mozzie slid onto the bench next to him.

"Okay, I'm here," Peter said. "You said we have a problem. What's this about?"

"Neal. I'm worried about him and you should be too." Mozzie pulled out the sports section of The New York Times from his coat pocket and began scanning it. He added in a low undertone, "Keep your eyes on your paper. Don't look at me."

"What's happened?" Would Mozzie ever give him a straight answer?

"Someone's trying to kill him. You need to protect him." After that terrifying statement, Mozzie rose to leave.

Peter grabbed Mozzie's arm and forced him to sit back down. "You don't just say that and leave. Who's trying to kill him?"

"I don't know—that's your job, Suit."

Peter exhaled slowly. "I can't act unless I have more information, so start talking."

Mozzie glanced furtively in all directions. After apparently deciding the woman with the toddler twenty feet away didn't pose an immediate threat, he reluctantly continued, "I assume you've heard of the Leopard?"

"Yeah, what about him?" asked Peter cautiously.

"I shouldn't be telling you any of this, but Neal's your friend too. For some unfathomable reason, he trusts you. Don't prove him wrong." Mozzie paused to scan the surroundings once more. "Neal used to work with the Leopard, and before you slap him in irons, it was in the past. Anyway, some Gestapo agency killed the Leopard a few weeks ago, and now they're out to get Neal."

"What makes you think that?"

"Whispers in the dark, pings in the ether. Stir the tea leaves, Suit. The clues are obvious. First, Neal won't talk to me about the Leopard. I'm his trusted confidant. We talk about everything. Why the sudden silence? And it's not just that. He's avoiding me. I checked with June. She rarely sees him. He's hardly ever at home. You know what this means, don't you?"

"Neal does have a heavy class load," Peter pointed out.

"Use your brain," Mozzie demanded, his voice squeaking in his frustration. "During the past couple of weeks, I've observed him several times sneaking out of the mansion by climbing down the outside wall. It's obvious he's trying to protect June and me. Neal would sacrifice himself for me, for you, for anyone he cares about. By distancing himself, he's doing his best to save us. I've tried to reach out to him, but I can't get through. You see him at work. It's up to you to save him!"

"Take it easy, Mozz. I'll look into it. I promise. If anyone has Neal in his sights, I'll find out."

"I'm counting on you. Neal is too—he just doesn't know it," he said in a calmer voice. "If you need to contact me, use this number, and leave the message: 'The sparrow dies at midnight.' I'll contact you." He slipped Peter a card by sticking it in his jacket pocket.