Choirboy Caffrey

Chapter 1 - Prelude to a Case

St. Louis hotel room. Friday morning. Early December, 2003.

Neal Caffrey picked up the business card he'd borrowed from Special Agent Peter Burke, and twirled it through his fingers as if he were performing a card trick. He didn't need to see the card to keep it moving smoothly; instead he gazed at the Gateway Arch from his hotel room window. It still felt odd to see that landmark, to be back in the city where he grew up. He'd come here to participate in a museum heist as a favor to Mozzie, and had been shocked to find Peter here, too. Peter had been undercover as the client, and when Neal helped him maintain his cover, suddenly the sides had changed. Neal ended up working with Peter against the unhinged leader of the crew, and was instrumental in the man's arrest.

Ten minutes ago Peter had left for the airport, heading back home to New York. But Neal had a commitment keeping him here. He also had unfinished business. Turning away from the window, Neal put down the business card and dialed the number on it.

When U.S. Marshal Simon Preston answered, Neal reminded him how they had met the day before and said, "I could use your help. I need a birth certificate and a background in order to work for the FBI."

"The U.S. Marshal's Office isn't in the business of issuing birth certificates to just anyone. We only do that in special circumstances. Can you do prove you meet the criteria?"

"I think you have a good idea who I am," Neal said.

"I think I do, too. But I need proof. That involves checking your fingerprints and asking you a few questions." Simon invited Neal to his office to complete the process that afternoon. With the conversation over, Neal was at a loss. The government was being helpful. Accommodating. This was disconcerting. And boring.

"I'm bored," he said aloud, surprised. In the six years since he'd run away from home, he'd been too busy to be bored. After dealing with the basics like shelter, he explored the cities he visited. Museums, art galleries, libraries, concert halls, restaurants – there had been plenty to keep him occupied in every location when he wasn't busy planning a crime. St. Louis offered all of these same amenities. He might be more familiar with this city, but much would have changed over the years. He knew, intellectually, that he could find entertainment if he tried, the same way he had in any other city. But coming back here seemed to bring out the petulant child in him. He could imagine himself at the age of ten whining to his mother, "There's nothing to do."

Usually at that point his mother would turn him over to Ellen, which was not an option anymore. Contacting Ellen again wasn't a good idea, not if he wanted to stay on the Marshals' good side. But he could prepare for the meet she'd set up for Sunday night. Her church was hosting a Christmas concert, and she'd promised to leave a pager there for him to pick up during the event.

In theory it was simple. The church would be filled with visitors from the community. A stranger wouldn't be questioned, and could be excused for getting disoriented and wandering off the beaten path. On the other hand, members of the church would be shepherding visitors into the pews and would be likely to follow a wanderer to send him in the right direction. He'd have more freedom if he could pass himself off as a member of one of the visiting choirs. They would arrive early and stay late. They would be dressed in matching robes that made them anonymous.

A call to the church told him which choirs were participating this year. A Catholic parish in the neighborhood was sending its women's choir, and a Baptist youth choir was participating. A Methodist adult choir would perform, plus a men's choir from the Concordia seminary. And of course the adult and children's choirs from the hosting church would take part.

Neal remembered the Methodist choir from previous Christmases. They were amazing and would probably be fun to join but were primarily Black. Not the best choice if he wanted to blend in. Joining the choir from Ellen's church was risky. She'd taken Neal to her church often in his youth, and he might be recognized if he spent several hours with them. The seminary was his best bet. Students in a college choir would turnover every few years as they graduated, so members of the other choirs wouldn't be surprised to see new faces.