White Collar - as an unofficial novel - part 2

Gerard Dorsett

Peter knocked on the doors to the closed art gallery. A beautiful young brunette approached on the other side, smiled and let him in.

"Hi, Peter, what brings you here?" Taryn Vandersant greeted him.

"Haustenberg."

"Yes?"

"Has anyone been here, wanting to sell one?"

"Actually, yes. Yesterday. Dorsett. I've been buying from him before."

"Girl with a locket?"

"It's stolen, isn't it?" Peter nodded. "I thought so."

"What did you say to him?"

"You don't say no to a man like him," she replied with a shiver. "I said I should return to him if I found a client interested. What do you want me to do?"

It was an eagerness in her voice.

"Do?"

"You want to catch the guy, don't you? I can get him here, and you can arrest him. And me to, to make sure Dorsett doesn't know I set the trap."

"It's dangerous, Taryn. Why would you want to do that?"

"I deal with art, Peter. Though I love it, it's hardly what you can call excitement in your life. Besides, men like Dorsett..."

"Alright," Peter's mind worked fast. "Set up a meeting with Dorsett tomorrow. Tell him you've got a buyer."

"He'll smell an agent, Peter."

"I'm not sending in an agent," Peter grinned. "I'm sending Neal."

Peter picked up Neal on his way to the office. As he drove he called Jones.

"Gerard Dorsett has the painting," he told him and Neal who sat beside him. "Jones, check with the other units. He's got fingers in lots of jars. Maybe someone got him on tape."

"I will," Jones returned.

When they stepped out of the elevator they walked straight to the conference room.

"Yeah, we got him. We've been sitting on him for two days," Jones confirmed showing surveillance footage on the screen. "They were going to every high-end gallery in Manhattan offering the Haustenberg."

Peter knew Dorsett from before, but he had a large guy with him.

"Who's that?" Peter asked.

"The big guy? Joshua. Ex-military, the muscle who stole the painting."

Jones sure was good at his job, Peter reflected. It has been less than an hour since he made the call to Jones. The big guy had a large bruise in his face.

"Julianna wasn't kidding about the punch," Neal noted who had seen the same thing.

"The girl has an arm," Peter grinned.

"And the other guy, that's Dorsett, French expat," Jones told Neal.

"What's he into?" the kid wanted to know. "Besides shaking down stockbrokers?"

"High-end loan sharking," Peter answered. "Although calling him a loan shark is like calling Oedipus a mama's boy. He makes questionable loans with big corporate money. Get behind on your payment, he'll firebomb your office."

"Ouch," Neal frowned.

"The good news is, you get to meet him." Neal's head turned at once. "Tomorrow."

"How did you arrange that?" the kid wanted to know.

Peter saw who was coming into the office. They smiled at each other.