White Collar: An unofficial novel - part 9

Burke's seven

"I can scare him," she nodded.

"I know. You're gonna do it in front of this phone booth."

"Jones," Peter said. "You'll install a transmitter which will reroute any call that he makes to us. And a camera. Make sure you look like a repair guy."

"Yeah, but nobody uses payphones in New York anymore."

"Agreed," the kid nodded. "Mozzie, do you still have your cellphone scrambler?"

"Russian surplus with a two-block radius. But it's cumbersome. Plus, it needs to be hidden in something that's motorized with a power... source." The short guy just realized that he sat on a motorized wheelchair and grinned. "That's where I come in."

"Very good, Ironside," Peter said.

"Thank you."

"You sit in your wheelchair as a homeless, begging, with a jar with coins, alright?"

"So he'll have change in case he needs it, good thinking," Mozzie nodded.

"He's a prince. He must have change." Peter had coins in his pocket. Of course, a prince must have a quarter.

"People don't use coins anymore," Neal said. "I'll bet you a twenty, that our prince will need Mozzie's coins."

"Deal," Peter said.

"We knock out his cell, force him to make the call on our payphone. He's gonna know it's not Larssen on the other end." Diana sounded skeptical.

"That's where Sara comes in," Peter said. "We're using her voice-modulation software."

"Oh, that stuff never works," Mozzie snorted.

"Well, the software that's legal in the U.S. doesn't," Sara said. Peter sighed. He wished he had not heard that, and decided that he had not.

"Oh. A lady who colors outside the lines." Sara obviously rose several notches in Mozzie's eyes. Sara did not look like she appreciated it fully.

"Once we catch Bilal smuggling red-handed, we flip him on Larssen," Peter thought he finished the story.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait." Mozzie of course. "A true con gets you everything you want. Suit, once this is all finished, we may have Larssen, but you're still framed for planting the gun."

He exchanged a look with Neal and then back at the cute little man.

"One con at a time."

And he had said 'con' and not 'sting'. He sighed.

The next morning, Neal sat ready to go on Peter's couch. They got visuals from Jones's installation, seeing the inside of the phone booth and the surroundings, with Mozzie as a homeless beggar.

"Sara, you ready to go?" Peter asked.

"Yep. Neal, remember... only the words on the board."

"All right." Neal watched the board and was glad the conversation was supposed to be short. There were not that many words.

"I have eyes on Bilal," Jones said. "Right on time."

"Okay," Peter confirmed. "Get out of there."

"I'm out." They saw Jones hanging up the phone in the booth.

"Diana, Mozzie, you're up," Peter told them over the radio. They had Bilal within camera view and saw Diana walk up to him. Flashing her badge.

"All right, Mozzie, now," Neal said over the radio. Mozzie pushed a switch and Neal saw a nearby man stare at the phone he had just been talking into.

"Houston, we have a problem." Mozzie's voice. The man walked into the phone booth.

"His call is redirecting here," Peter muttered and handed Neal the ringing phone. "You need to talk him off the phone."

"All right." Neal answered the call. "Hello?"

"I must have dialed the wrong number."

They saw him hang up and start over. Diana could stall for just so long. The phone booth needed to be empty when that time happened.

"Your turn," he said, handing the phone back. "Lose him."

"Hey, man," Peter said and the man hung up. "I think he's expecting a woman."

"Hand me that," Sara said. "I'll dump him."

"No, you're not," Elizabeth objected, answering the phone. "Hello?"

"Angela, is that you, sweetie?"

"Honey, I can hardly hear you. Can you call me back later?"

"We can't leave our conversation the way we did."

"Okay, honey, this is what I want you to do. I want you to go, and I want you to buy me some flowers. You know the ones I love. When you walk through the door, I want you to kiss me. Then you're gonna sweep me off my feet, and you're gonna make love to me. Can you do that?" Neal exchanged a baffled look with Sara. Peter was married to a genius.

"Uh...Yeah, I can," the man in the phone booth answered.

"Good. I'm gonna pretend this conversation never happened, and so are you. Now get off the phone and go." She hung up. The man hung up, smiling all over his face, and left. "Now it's the Burke Seven."

Mozzie nodded to Diana and she finished her conversation and left. Bilal pulled out his phone. Which of course did not work.

They could see Mozzie shaking his jar.

"Come on. Look around." Peter was ready to scream at Bilal he was standing next to a phone.

Then Bilal saw it and saw Mozzie. He pulled out his wallet and pushed a bill into Mozzie's jar and took a quarter from it.

"Told you," Neal smiled. "New Yorkers don't carry change any more."

Peter slapped the twenty into his hand.

"All right," Sara said as Bilal grabbed the phone in the booth. "Neal, you're up. Watch your S's."

"All right." He rose and answered the call. "What?"

"Julian, we must talk."

"Why?"

"The FBI just paid me a visit. They're looking into your shipment."

"Not over the phone. Too dangerous." He glanced at Sara who smiled and nodded.

"No, I'm going to get rid of it."

"No!" Neal said without checking the list, but 'no' was there. "No! I will pay you..." He searched for the right word. Sara gestured and mouthed the word. He got it "Bubble"

"Double?"

"Yes."

"We're going to need a new rendezvous for the exchange."

"4268 Fifth Avenue. Now." The address they had found that worked with the words they had. He hung up and took a deep breath.

"Let's hope that worked," Peter said nodding in approval.