The Mirror

Chapter 7: Spinning Plates

Federal Building. Thursday, February 17, 2005.

"Croque-monsieurs? Peter, I'm impressed." Neal took the lid off the cup of French roast coffee and sniffed it appreciatively.

"Man doesn't live on deviled ham alone," Peter said complacently. He would rather have picked an offsite location for lunch but the topic was too confidential to be discussed outside the office. He chose instead one of the smaller conference rooms that had a different view from the standard room they used. Peter had overheard Neal recommend the French Café Gourmand down the street from the Federal Building, and just as important as the recommendation was the fact they delivered.

Having broken the ice, Peter waded into the turbulent waters of having Neal explain yet one more time why it was a wonderful idea for him to commit a burglary in the Hamptons. This week had steadily gone downhill ever since the first mention of Keller.

"It's all about exchanging favors," Neal explained airily, still entrenched in his European personality. "Favors are a favorite—and reliable—currency in my old world."

Peter paused taking a bite of his sandwich to remark with admirable restraint. "You're putting an awfully elevated spin on larceny."

"If it makes you feel better, call it a covert operation to uncover a possible agent of Ydrus. I'm acting as James Bond here, not James Bonds. We need Raquel's help to advance to the next step with Keller, so the decision's a simple one."

"But the execution isn't," Peter countered. "You're refusing any assistance from the team."

"This has to be off the books," he replied with a shrug. "You can't get a warrant on hearsay evidence from a woman you suspect of being a criminal."

"You realize if you're caught, you'll have no protection."

"I won't get caught. I'm going to ask Mozzie to case out the place. If Huber's away as Raquel believes, then it should be a straightforward job. In and out. No one the wiser."

Neal projected such confidence, it was difficult not to go along, but Peter had one more card to play. "Use that chess brain to tell me what traps are lurking out there. And don't tell me you haven't thought about them."

Neal considered as he chewed his sandwich. Swallowing, he said, "It's conceivable Huber will come back early or someone else would drop in, but Mozzie can serve as a lookout. The biggest concern is the time factor."

"Elaborate."

"Look at it from Keller's perspective. Yesterday he told me to steal Raquel's ring. He expects me to complete the job by Saturday at the latest, not pull off a heist on Long Island. Once I get the cat and return it to Raquel, I can start on the ring forgery but it will take a few days. Add to that, we haven't even talked to the Met yet. The earliest we'll be able to execute the sting is late next week. Keller's not a patient man." Neal picked up the remaining half of his sandwich and began breaking it into small pieces. "Will he think I need a little extra incentive? Will he make a play on Fiona?"

This morning Neal had been bouncing off the walls like a balloon. When he returned from the meeting with Raquel, his balloon had sprung a leak. And now Peter understood the cause. "Let's go with the worst-case scenario. What if he does? You've already warned her. He got nowhere with Kate, after all." Neal looked up at him sharply, making Peter do a double-take. "He got somewhere with her?"

"I don't know for sure," he admitted unhappily. "She'd never go into the specifics, but Keller gave me enough details to make me believe they probably did." He picked up one of the pieces and eyed it gloomily. "When Fiona and I started dating, we promised each other there'd be no strings, no drama. Now I'm hanging an evil eye around her neck."