The Queen's Jewels

Chapter 4: A Matter of Equipment

Federal Building. November 16, 2004. Tuesday afternoon.

When Peter left Neal, he called Jones, Diana, and Travis into the conference room for a briefing. This was the first official word the others had received of Neal's status. Peter couldn't recall ever having conducted a meeting so somber. As his agents reacted angrily to the news, he was challenged to keep a lid on his own emotions.

"OPR is in charge of the operation now," Peter reminded them. "We are not to interfere, no matter how much we'd like to."

"Neal wouldn't have stolen those earrings," Travis said, his jaw hardening.

"I can't believe it either," Jones said. "I was with him when we apprehended Bolotnov. There was no indication he was even briefly tempted."

Peter locked eyes with each of them in turn. "As his supervisor, I'm going to make absolutely sure the proceedings are conducted fairly."

A knock was heard on the conference room door. Fowler strode in a second later without waiting for an answer and dropped a folder on the table. "These are the copies of the evidence you requested, Agent Burke. If you see any discrepancy, I'd like to hear about it."

Peter passed the photos around once Fowler exited the room. The first image was of the metal evidence box that had contained the earrings. The fingerprints had been found inside the box. The other images were of the fingerprints. It was the first time any of them had seen them. Along with the images were reference photos of Neal's fingerprints from his file.

Travis quickly scanned the printout of the analysis results and said, "The fingerprints were all from the right hand—index finger, middle finger, and thumb. Although somewhat smudged, there's no doubt they were Neal's."

"Something's not right," Peter muttered.

"Neal never would have left incriminating fingerprints," Diana said. "I don't know him well enough to say with a hundred percent certainty that he wouldn't have stolen the earrings, but he's not an idiot. Reckless, yes, annoying, yes, stupid, no."

"I was chatting with him about taking my nephew to his fencing match just before Fowler led him off this morning," Jones said. "We were joking around. He was being typical Caffrey."

"That's it!" Peter slammed his fist on the table so hard it rattled the coffee mugs. "Did any of you notice Neal had a bandage on his right thumb? I asked him about it. He said it was from a fencing accident. Travis, grab your camera and meet me outside the holding room."

A few minutes later, Peter, along with Travis, a nurse he'd commandeered from the medical clinic a floor below and an OPR agent to act as witness, entered the small room.

Neal was finishing a sandwich when they stepped inside. "Sorry, they only brought me one sandwich. If I'd known we were having a party ..."

"Not now, Neal," Peter said shortly. "This is an official interview,"

Neal watched the nurse warily. "Any news?"

"That's what you will provide right now," said Peter. "Your sandwich can wait."

He waited till Travis began recording. "You have a bandage on your right thumb," Peter said. "State for the record the cause."

A smile flitted across Neal's face. "My thumb was injured in a fencing accident at Columbia University on Friday evening, November 12, at approximately 7 p.m."

"Were there witnesses to the accident?"

"Several members of the club were present, and my thumb was bandaged by our coach."