White Collar: An unofficial novel - part 10

A friend of Byron

At least there were two people buried in the largest mausoleum in North America. While Washington D.C. had many memorials of the presidents of his country, few were actual graves. General Grant National Memorial was. Neal waited for Moz in the shadow on the top of the stairs. He must have been lost in thought because he realized that his friend was waiting for him. He walked down to him

"How goes the construction of our treasure map?"

"Oh. The antenna?" Mozzie asked and handed him a file and started walking, never interested in lingering in one place long. "Slow and steady. I'm trying to build everything as close to the original 1940s designs as possible. Do you know how hard it is to find vacuum tubes these days?"

"I'm sure you'll figure it out," Neal mumbled as he checked the photos of the parts. It was impressive. "Good work, Moz."

His friend's nose crumbled as if he has smelled something bad.

"I don't like that expression."

"'Good work'?"

"Well, 'work' implies I have a job."

"Apologies." Neal closed the file. Had he changed, or had Mozzie just become more sensitive?

"A careless word may kindle strife."

Neal handed the file back and grinned. He could not believe they would ever fight. Not due to a choice of words at least.

"See you later."

He walked back home.

When he opened the front door and walked inside he heard someone moving inside the living room.

"June?" he called, continuing inside. Sounds were not right. A man in June's dignified age sat at the table, spinning a coin.

He rose when he saw him.

"Oh, you must be Neal."

Neal frowned and walked closer. Anybody could know who he was, renting the apartment in the building. It was something overly charming about the man, like himself but much older. And he did not trust him.

"You know my name, but I don't know yours."

"Ah," he heard June's voice and she appeared, "I see that you have met Ford."

"Hi. It's a pleasure." The man stretched out his hand and Neal shook it.

"Ford is an old friend, and he's just moved back to Manhattan," June continued, smiling, happy. Neal watched her. She was not suspicious.

"I missed the old neighborhood, to say the least," Ford said.

"I think you'll find that you two have quite a bit in common."

"Is that so?" So his first hunch was right, Neal thought. "So you'll be around for a while?"

"June has been kind enough to make a few donations to my new apartment. We both know how generous she is."

"Thank you," June beamed.

"That looks like one of Byron's suits," Ford said unable to take his eyes from Neal's appearance.

"That reminds me..." June said, "I have some more jackets in the back room. Come."

He waved for Ford to come along.

"How'd you know June's husband?" Neal asked as the man passed him. Ford stopped and looked at him.

"Byron and I worked together."

"Mm. Partners in crime?"

"Something like that." Ford smiled and flipped him the coin he had been spinning. Neal caught it. He watched the man follow June. He held the coin along its edges and walked into the kitchen where he find a zip-bag to put it in.