White Collar - as an unofficial novel - part 3

The benefactor

When Peter awoke the next morning he heard voices and laughter downstairs. El's side of the bed was empty. He got dressed and peeked inside the guest bedroom. It was empty, but he knew who the other voice he heard belonged to. He walked down and into the kitchen, only to find Neal and El in the middle of making breakfast.

"Morning, hon," his wife smiled at him.

"Morning, Peter," Neal beamed.

Peter felt he could not have a better start at the day. And whatever troubled Neal last night, it seemed to have passed.

"You said you'd cuff me after breakfast, right?"

"Yeah. I did."

They had a pleasant morning together, though it had something of a surreal mode about it. When they finished, El left for her work. Peter suspected that she did not wish to see Neal restrained. He pulled out his cuffs. Neal put on his jacket and held out his hands without fuss.

"Does this makes it 3 and 0?" he asked when Peter locked them.

"No. Turning yourself over to me doesn't count."

In the car, Peter called Jones who confirmed Tulane was in custody. He shared a smile with Neal, who heard since the phone was on speaker.

"But no sign of Caffrey yet," Jones remarked, with a hint of the unspoken underlying question.

"He's sitting right beside me," Peter told him. "In cuffs."

"That's good to hear. No offense, Caffrey."

"None taken," Neal grinned.

"I'll leave Neal in a holding cell on my way up. Jones, can you have Tulane ready for me?"

"Sure thing, Peter."

They hung up and Peter arrived in the FBI garage. Neal was so confident, so trusting, that this would turn out well. With every right, Peter thought. He left Neal in the holding area and told the agent on duty that Neal's presence was just a formality and that he should be treated nice.

Then he walked up to the office and talked to Jones who showed him a bag belonging to Tulane. Peter grinned at walked into the interrogation room, showing the bag under the table, out of sight.

He sat down in front of the waiting Tulane. The young man reminded him of Neal, and still not. What he had instantly liked with Neal was missing. And he had not needed three long years to chaise this man either.

"How did you know which vault the diamond would be in?" Peter started.

He just got a smirk in return.

"Silence won't help you," he told his suspect, "but maybe I can."

Tulane snorted.

"Tell me everything, and I can talk to the prosecutor about immunity."

"Why would you give me immunity?" the young thief asked as if he had offered water to a sailor.

"Believe it or not, I don't think you're the brains behind this operation."

"Playing on my vanity?" Tulane laughed. "Please! You have some video that proves nothing."

It was Peter's turn to smirk.

"Search warrant helped us find this..." He hoisted up the bag he got from Jones on the table. "In a townhouse of one of your... puzzle girls."

From the bag, he brought out a black velvet pouch and from the pouch, he pulled the necklace with the pink diamond. He placed it on the table between them.