White Collar: An unofficial novel - part 8

The Music Box

Peter fetched the music box at Diana's home.

"So, you're finally going to tell him?"

"He found out," Peter admitted. "Did you by any chance had the sheet of music in your bag while you were working with Mozzie?"

"That son of a bitch!" Diana cursed. "I can't believe he snooped in my bag!"

"He's a likable man," Peter smiled. "In his own way. Makes you relax." He remembered the drink they had had together the first time he met Neal's friend.

"No, he does not make me relax," Diana protested. "Did you know he has an elaborate ceremony to even start a computer?"

"No, but I can imagine."

"Boss?"

"Yes?"

"I like Neal. And I am worried where this box might lead him."

"Me too." Maybe it was just a valuable music box after all. But someone had wanted it badly. It was not likely it was just ordinary.

He placed the bag on the passenger's seat and drove to the kid's place.

Neal had confronted him. If he had lied in return, the trust and faith the kid had in him would probably be lost for good. Peter valued that trust highly. It was remarkable to have it from a con man when he was a federal agent. They were also friends. A friend who had saved his life, and done the right thing, and saved the bad guy as well.

He could have denied Neal to take a look at it. Where would that have lead? Neal would not let it go. Since the kid knew as much as he did, it was plausible that he or his friend would have stolen it from Diana.

How could he have thought that he could protect his pet convict by hiding it from him? And lying? Had he actually lied, by the way? Peter was not so sure. But then again, he was not sure, and that said more than he really wanted to admit. If Neal had chosen something else than confrontation, it would probably have led to trouble.

Neal opened the door and let him inside. What was that look in the kid's eyes? Was he triumphant? Or did he cause himself to feel like a young schoolboy returning a late book to the library?

Peter opened the bag, lifted it out, and placed it on the table.

Neal sat down, watching it with that strange affection that Peter had seen when the kid handled certain beautiful items.

"How come there was a rumor that you had stolen it?" Peter asked, suddenly curious.

"I guess I don't incriminate myself too much by telling it was my plan, but once there the plan didn't work out." He made a face at the memory but the second later he beamed at Peter. "When the rumor said otherwise I didn't correct them. Even Moz thought I had it. But..." he continued, the smile was gone gesturing towards the box, "thank you, Peter."

"I didn't tell you everything for your own protection," Peter said, feeling the need to defend what he had started to consider as a bad choice. "I don't know what you're gonna do, and neither do you."

Neal studied the amber box on his kitchen table. It felt so long ago he saw it last time. Alex had given it to him and he had packed it in a bag and given it to Fowler. What was so important about it? What secrets did it keep? Then he had been so eager to get Kate back to see anything but what he needed to see.

"How come there was a rumor that you had stolen it?" his handler asked.

"I guess I don't incriminate myself too much by telling it was my plan, but once there the plan didn't work out." It had been Alex's idea from the beginning and once at Amalienborg in Denmark, she had not followed the plan. "When the rumor said otherwise I didn't correct them. Even Moz thought I had it. But..." he paused, watching the box and then his friend, who listened to him and brought the box there, "thank you, Peter."

"I didn't tell you everything for your own protection," Peter said, like a broken record. Neal was quite tired of hearing that. But even if it was annoying it was also from someone who cared for him. "I don't know what you're gonna do," Peter continued. "And neither do you."

Who does, ever, Neal asked himself. That was part of life.

"I know my options."

"Revenge or justice, right?" Peter sighed. "Neal, as long as I'm involved, it's going to be the latter."

Of course. And that was his intention. He wanted to keep his friendship with Peter and he wanted to become a free man one day.

"What if justice isn't good enough?" he asked.

"It has to be," his handler said. "It will be."

Neal hoped so, but he did not understand how it could be.

"What'd you find?" he asked, nodding towards the box, changing subject to something more pleasant.

Peter pointed at the corner of the missing putti.

"There's a piece of the box that's still missing, right here. Now, at first, I thought it was one of the cherubs that had broken off. But if you look more closely, it hasn't broken off. It's a keyhole." Neal leaned forward and noticed the same thing. "The missing piece is a key."

He put his hand inside the inner pocket of his suit and bought out the little golden putti that Alex had given him. He showed it to Peter. Who stared.

"...Which you have," Peter finished, smiling as if he should have known.

Neal placed it in the keyhole by the corner where it fit perfectly.

"No more secrets, Peter."

"No more secrets."

He turned the key and the other three putties turned as well. They looked at each other. Then Neal opened the lid.