White Collar: An unofficial novel - part 10

Archives

"Hey," Neal greeted Sara, who waited at the corner they agreed upon.

"Hi." She smiled when she saw him these days. When did that happen? Had she really been ready to shoot him once? It seemed too far away.

"Anyone follow you?" he asked as they got moving across the crossing with the other pedestrians.

"No. You?"

"All clear."

"They said over the phone that it could take up to four weeks for us to get access to those files," she said with a sigh. Yeah, he guessed so.

"That's all right." He smiled at her. "I got a plan."

"Are you gonna share that plan with me?"

He held out his hand, and she grabbed it.

"I suppose you didn't tell her you come from the FBI."

"Because I don't."

"That's right. But I do."

"You're a consultant," she pointed out, but she had that thrilled, curious look about her.

"So we start with the one you spoke with on the phone," he said, guiding her inside the archives as if that had anything to do with him not being a fully-fledged FBI agent.

"As I told you on the phone, you need permission," the lady answered.

"The FBI has permission," Neal said, beaming toward her. "And it's rather urgent that we get to the archives."

"Of course, if that's the case," she said and walked ahead of them. Neal had wished she would ask for credentials so he could flash his badge.

They walked down a staircase.

"Any chance you can tell me a little more about what you're looking for?"

"Only that it's regarding an individual who may have come through Ellis Island in 1946. We need to look through files to match a physical description."

"The rest is national security," Sara filled in.

"You understand." Neal beamed again.

"Of course. Sorry I wasn't more helpful over the phone. She didn't say she was with the FBI."

"Oh, she's not," Neal said, pulling out his badge and showing it. "I am."

"Please, follow me." She moved ahead of them once again. Sara had an eyebrow raised.

"Peter knows," Neal said, returning the badge to the pocket. "The broad strokes." Sara chuckled. They followed the lady into a big, windowless room with plenty of old busts and portraits.

"This is it," the archive lady declared. "Records. Ledgers. Card catalogs." She gestured to three different parts of the room.

"Which ones are from 1946?" Neal asked, smiling, hoping for help.

"All of them. Excuse me." She left them to attend something else.

Neal glanced at Sara and then around the room. One guy among a million?

"Yeah, we can do this." They had to. Somehow.

"We have no idea when in 1946?" Sara asked.

"No."

"Okay. So we start from left to right then." She walked to a shelf and picked up a pile of files, and handed it to Neal. Then she picked a pile for herself and sat down. He looked at her and at the files. He felt bored before he even started. It was as if his whole life was nothing but files no matter where he went.