The Mirror

Chapter 3: An Unexpected Valentine

He slipped an arm around her. "Of course. It reminded me of you all day."

"Then you should wear it every day," she declared as they headed for the stairs. "We're in luck. Weatherby's won't need me at the auction on Saturday. I went ahead and purchased tickets for the exhibition on the way to class."

"Let's make a day of it. Dinner afterward. We could go to La Palette. It's close to the Met."

"Thank you for not asking me to cook!" she said with a laugh. They continued to make their plans as they took the stairs down to the first floor. 

Most Mondays Neal accompanied Fiona to the taxi stand before heading home since her seminar on nineteenth-century photography was held in the classroom next to his. As they passed the student lounge, Neal noticed a man leaning against the doorframe. His face was partially obscured by a tweed hat, but Neal didn't need to see his face to know who he was.

He felt the muscles in his neck tighten. Matthew Keller. At Columbia. On his home turf.

Keller nodded as they passed, but Neal was careful to give no sign that he recognized him. He had to first get Fiona out of harm's way. He continued to chat with her till they reached the building entrance. There he made an excuse that he'd forgotten to turn in a form to his advisor and needed to go back upstairs.

"More paperwork for your PhD application?" she asked.

"Yeah, it never ends. Sherkov's sponsoring my candidacy but his offer doesn't extend to the paperwork."

She squeezed his hand. "No problem. I'll see you tomorrow at class."

He waited till she'd walked several yards away from the building before returning to the lounge. Keller had taken a seat in a sectional in the far corner.

Neal sat down beside him. Because of Valentine's Day, the lounge was quieter than normal. One student was working on his laptop but Keller had chosen the opposite corner. They could talk without being overheard. Neal had prepared his script on the way back to the lounge.

"Sweet gig you got running, Caff," Keller commented.

His voice rasped like a fingernail along a blackboard. Neal hadn't thought about how much he hated the grating sound of his voice in a long time. "Why are you here?"

"Can't an old buddy visit you? You get my card?"

Neal nodded. "Not a long message on it."

"Those were good times. You and me on the Cote d'Azur. You must miss those days." Keller looked around the lounge. "I gotta say, though, I'm impressed. The Registrar was very helpful. Dual master's, huh? Art history, visual arts? Well played. You even joined the fencing club. What's your angle?"

"Long con," Neal said shortly.

Keller grimaced. "I can see that. You could be a little more forthcoming. You've been at this for what, over a year now? Living in a mansion. Enjoying the good life. Art exhibits in SoHo. Not too shabby, although insects aren't my thing."

"You're telling me stuff I already know. New York's not your normal territory. I repeat, why are you here?"

"You know what an art lover I am. I've been taking in the sights. Speaking of which, that's a sweetheart you were walking with. You should have introduced us."

"She's just another student. No one special."

"Is that so? The two of you looked pretty tight when you hailed a taxi for her on Sunday morning."

"Just one of many, Keller. So, you need my help getting around the art exhibits?"

"Maybe. But here's the thing. I see you at the FBI. You've been there for over a year. So I'm saying to myself, has my pal Caff flipped? Are you playing both sides of the game now?"

Neal gave a short, humorless laugh. "They were going to imprison me. They had me nailed for a forged bond. I made a bargain. It's like a work release. I have a few more years to go. It's turned out to be a great deal. I have an inside track of how they work." Neal made sure his expression hardened. "I can screw them whenever I want."

Keller eyed him appraisingly. "Not bad, if it's true. Not your style, though. You're not that ruthless."

"I'm not the young, naive kid you knew."

"Maybe not. Then again, maybe you're trying to pull one over on your pal. But, hey, it's Valentine's Day. I'm feeling generous. I'll get back to you in a few days and we'll talk more." Keller got up. "Go find Fiona. You two kids have fun."

Neal snorted. "She's already had the Caffrey thrill. I got a redhead lined up for tonight." They walked out of the building together. Neal gave Keller the number to a burner phone and watched as Keller got into a cab on Amsterdam Avenue.

Had Keller bought it? Acting like he didn't care about Fiona was the only way Neal knew to keep him from making a play for her. The nausea he felt from turning himself into the mirror image of Keller was worth it if he'd succeeded. Neal hoped the stench from his words would wash off in the shower.

As he headed home he considered calling Peter, but it was late in the evening on Valentine's Day. Tomorrow would be soon enough to give him heartburn.

* * * * * * * * * *

Notes: The Mirror of Tutankhamun is fictitious. I based the description on an Ancient Egyptian mirror of the same dynasty.