Pierre Hotel. Thursday morning. July 15, 2004.

Edmund and Irene Caffrey arrived in New York very early in the morning, and checked into the Pierre Hotel again. Noelle, Henry, Angela and Neal joined them for brunch and brought Dor and Dressa up to speed on the kidnapping, although they had all agreed on the elevator ride up that they would skim over some of the more distressing elements. Then they moved on to an overview of Urban Legend and the Masterson Music case.

"The public knows about all of this?" Edmund asked.

"A lot of it," Neal said. "Late yesterday afternoon the FBI held a press conference in D.C., where they announced that Robert Winslow is a wanted fugitive, and they described the kidnapping as an example of his crimes. Reporters asked why the kidnapping wasn't announced right away, and the FBI spokeswoman explained the fears it might have been politically motivated to influence you, and that it was kept quiet until we knew for sure."

"And the Urban Legend piece?"

"That wasn't announced by the FBI, but with photos of Henry and Angela being splashed around in the press release and subsequent news stories it didn't take long for music fans to recognize them. The rumors that they're Shawn and Grace Legend were already appearing on sites first thing this morning, and we're actively spreading the word online. In addition, The New York Times is going to interview them after an Urban Legend performance this evening."

"And when the press convenes on this suite to ask me about my perspective of the events in Switzerland and about the kidnapping, am I supposed to tell them I condone the involvement of my grandchildren in this Urban Legend?"

"Yes," said Neal.

"No," said Henry.

They swapped looks. "Both," said Neal. "We don't want to do anything to hurt your reputation, in fact we want to ride on your coattails to some extent. So it's best if you come across as sympathetic."

"But be honest about the fact you don't approve of us taking this from a hobby to a potential career," Henry added. "For the sting to work, Masterson needs to know we don't have your money or backing. He could be afraid to approach us if he thinks you'll supply top-notch attorneys to review our contract."

Edmund nodded and continued asking questions of Henry and Angela.

Irene pulled Neal aside and said, "He's making sure they're all right. He worried about them. He doesn't want to make a fuss, but he won't let them stop talking until he's accepted that they're safe and well."

Neal nodded in understanding.

"There's coffee and biscotti on the buffet," Irene told him. "We could beat them to it and have a chat of our own."

"Lead on."

When they had cups of coffee and the plate of biscotti in front of them, Irene kicked off the chat with, "Is art what you truly want to study at Columbia? Don't let Edmund discourage you if music is your passion."

Neal swallowed a bite of biscotti. "No, it's art that's in my soul. But Angela's another matter."

Irene slid a glance toward her granddaughter and then returned her attention to Neal. "Majoring in music, minoring in business. It wasn't simply to annoy her pushy grandfather?"

"No, I don't think so. She's the most talented of the three of us. Sometimes she collaborates with Miranda Garza – she's a professional songwriter – on the piano or keyboard parts of songs. And Julliard is interested in her."

"Hmmm." Irene took another sip of coffee as she considered that news. "I wonder what Columbia's music program is like these days. We might win Edmund over if she pursued a master's degree in music there."

"His alma mater," Neal agreed.

"Yes, and he'd like knowing you're there to keep an eye on her. He'd worry about the other music students leading her astray."

Neal picked up another biscotti but paused when Noelle walked up. "What are you two conspiring about?" she asked.

They looked at each other and then looked blankly at Noelle. She laughed. "Oh, such a picture of innocence you are. You both gave me the same look on the last Christmas Neal spent with us, when I found you in the kitchen eating the cookies Meredith had just iced and had told everyone not to eat until the icing set."

"That was a simple misunderstanding," Irene said loftily. "We were checking to see if they had set."

Neal grinned. He was coming to understand what Noelle had said about the special bond Irene had developed with him as the grandchild who had lived closest to her. He didn't remember sneaking cookies with her as a child, but it certainly felt natural now.

Noelle laid a hand on Neal's shoulder. "You'll need to leave soon. We expect Tom Brokaw and his crew to arrive in the next half hour to set up."

"Tom Brokaw?" Neal asked. "Really? This is mostly a fluff piece, right? All the official political announcements happened in Geneva."

"Oh, we met Tom in 1989," Irene said. "Edmund had spent part of his military career in Germany, and he wanted to see the Berlin Wall come down. We stayed at the same hotel as the American press. We still meet Tom for dinner whenever we can, and swap stories. It's good for an ambassador to have a friend in the media, and vice versa I suppose. He's going to retire at the end of this year, and this is his last chance to finally get Edmund in front of the camera. He interviewed us there in Berlin, you know, but that was the only time Edmund ever did a sit-down interview. His only other television appearances were in press conferences, with the Secretary of State taking most of the attention."

"I don't suppose you saw the Berlin interview," Noelle said. "You would have been very young to have much interest in the news back then."

Neal shook his head. "I don't think I watched the interview, but Mom did. I remember the fall of the Berlin Wall as the time she wouldn't let me change the channel to watch something else. I never understood why she found it so fascinating."

"Oh, my," said Irene, her eyes wide. "It might have been the only time she saw her father after the marshals took you away from us. I should have encouraged him to do more interviews."

###

Not wanting to be identified yet as the third member of Urban Legend, Neal left before the news crew arrived, and stopped by Theo Guy's studio. He was glad to see Samantha Weston had started working there part time, and she led him to a space where he could watch the session Theo was recording. It was for Cassie Blanca again, the songwriter who had needed him in the role of keyboardist a few weeks ago. The cast had been removed from her arm, and she was playing the drums. Interesting. Urban Legend could use a drummer.

He considered ducking out of sight when the session was finished. Last time he'd halfway convinced Cassie he was a ghost. But he decided it was time to bring her into his crew officially. He hung out in the hall where Cassie couldn't avoid seeing him, and her reaction was as shocked and boisterous as he expected from the redhead.

"You!" she said, gaping at first. "It's you! You're real." She latched onto his arm. "Really real. My God, the rabbit hole I went down looking into Urban Legend and trying to find out what happened to you. Are you that Neal Legend? There are finally pictures being posted and it sure looked like you, but some people said it must have been my imagination. And now you're here again!" She practically dragged him into Theo's office. Theo, of course, followed, with Sam trailing behind.

Theo glanced at his calendar as he sat at his desk. "I didn't have you scheduled for a session today, did I?"

Neal sat down and gestured for Sam and Cassie to do the same. "No, I dropped by hoping you'd have a minute. I need to talk to you – all three of you if you can stay– about Masterson Music."

Cassie and Sam frowned at the name. "I told you, don't get involved with them," Cassie warned.

Sam looked puzzled. "Shawn told you my history with them, and I know mine isn't the only story he's heard. I can't believe you'd want to work with them. What's this really about?"

Theo remained quiet, his expression a mix of anger and resignation. Neal was certain the man had a past with Masterson, but didn't know what it could be. When Theo performed with the chart-topping rock group Local Devastation, it had been before Masterson Music existed.

"I am that Neal Legend, Cassie. I want to take you into my confidence to explain what's going on and get your help. But first I need your promise that what I tell you won't leave this room. No posting it online or sharing the information in any way at all. Okay?" He looked around the room at Cassie, Sam and Theo for their responses.

They all agreed, with Cassie adding, "Just tell us already."

"I left Urban Legend a few years ago but recently I've been working with Shawn and Grace... Well, you've seen the news, right? I've been working with Henry Winslow and Angela Caffrey as part of my new job. At the end of last year I was hired by the FBI, and I've convinced them to investigate Masterson's business practices. Part of the plan is to get a lot of attention for Urban Legend, enough to convince Masterson to offer us a contract. I've already got experts pouring over Masterson's publicly-filed financial statements, and we're working with a legal team who'll go over the contract to look for anything suspicious. Once we gather enough evidence, we can obtain search warrants and get access to all their records to find evidence of accounting fraud and other illegal business practices. Finally all the singers and musicians who couldn't take on a behemoth like Masterson Music will get justice."

"What do you need from us?" asked Sam.

"Whatever it is, sign me up," Cassie added.

"The more evidence we can get, the better. I'd like to have you make an official statement to the Bureau as part of our case file, describing your experiences with Masterson. I'd also like names of others with similar experiences who might be willing to testify once we make an arrest." He paused to take in their reactions. He knew they still felt like David going after Goliath, but they were nodding. "Once we get a contract, it may take a few days – maybe even weeks – to gather all the evidence we need. We'll probably need to start recording an album, and we could use people we trust to act as backup singers and we could really use a drummer. Sam, Cassie, since you're already under contract to Masterson, they should be fine with us using you in our sessions. Theo, I'd like to use your studio, if you don't mind. And more than that, I'd like to know why you look so worried. What's your connection with Masterson?"

"Can I see your FBI ID?" Theo asked. He waited to look at Neal's consultant badge, with the girls peering at the badge with unabashed curiosity.

"Neal Caffrey," Cassie said. "So you are related to the members of the band?"

"Yeah, I am." Neal paused. "Theo, anything else you need? We can call my supervisor, or even talk at the Bureau if you prefer."

Theo huffed out a humorless laugh. "No, the last thing I want is to be seen entering the FBI offices. But maybe... You're a consultant? Is there an agent in charge of the case?"

"Sure. The case agent is my boss at the White Collar Crimes Unit. He's also an accounting expert who'll go undercover as Urban Legend's business manager. You want to talk to him?"

"It wouldn't happen to be Agent Peter Burke, would it?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess. He called me a couple weeks ago, and I never got back to him. I've been too scared of Masterson to take the chance." He leaned forward, elbows on his desk. "Opening this studio was my dream, and the thought of losing it kept me from speaking up. But the thought of taking Masterson down, of having a real shot at it, I can't pass that up. I'd like to go ahead and make an official statement, provide whatever records you need. Can the agent come here and, well, not look like an FBI agent?"

"I can get him here," Neal promised. "No FBI vehicles, no flashing his badge, I promise. I can even ask him to change into something more casual than his usual Brooks Brothers suit if you want."

Theo sighed in relief. "Yes, thanks."

###

After Neal called, Peter left his office, heading toward the stairs. There was a locker room adjoining the restrooms, where the team kept extra clothing for a quick change if they needed to go undercover without much warning. He could easily trade his jacket, dress shirt and tie for a polo-style shirt El said didn't look too out of place with suit pants.

At the top of the stairs, he paused. Ideally he'd take someone with him to help. They'd want to record Theo Guy's statement and start going through whatever records he had. Since Neal said the man was scared of Masterson, it would help to show the FBI was taking this seriously enough to send two agents. He looked down at the bullpen, wondering who would be best for this assignment.

Jones looked up and noticed Peter's scrutiny. "Looking for something, boss?"

Several others from the bullpen looked up. Peter decided to make it a general question. "Who on the team looks least like an FBI agent?"

Jorge Badillo raised a hand and said, "Umm, Agent Miller? When he's in the van, anyway."

Of course. Travis Miller had a reputation for showing up in the van in jeans and a T-shirt, especially in summer. Sometimes he didn't bother to shave if he was going to spend all day outside the office. "Good answer," Peter said. He returned to his office to look up where the van was located today. Not all that far from Theo Guy's business. He called Travis and, confirming there hadn't been much activity from the suspect he'd been assigned to watch today, sent him to the studio. Then he asked Badillo to take his place in the van for a couple of hours.

At the studio, Neal introduced Peter and Travis to Theo Guy, Samantha Weston and Cassie Blanca. "They're all part of the... the sting," Neal added. Peter smiled. Neal still thought of it as a con, but he was making an effort to treat it as a case.

Theo's office couldn't hold so many people, and they congregated in a kitchen area instead. It seemed to be some kind of breakroom for the musicians who came to the studio. Theo gave permission to record his statement. Then they heard a story of how Masterson Music had approached Theo to "certify" his studio as being of high enough quality to be used for recordings for artists under contract to Masterson. It had started as a simple inspection of the studio's equipment and a glance at the financials to be assured the studio was viable enough to stay in business. The Masterson representatives said they didn't want to bother establishing a relationship with a business that couldn't stay afloat, and Theo had shown them his profit-loss statement and earnings projections to prove his business was stable.

What followed was a classic extortion scheme, with the victim so unprepared for such a thing that he didn't realize what was going on until it was too late.

"It started with a certification fee," Theo said. "They hadn't mentioned it when they were here, but sent a bill a month later saying it was a minor fee to cover their record-keeping. It was tiny at first, maybe ten dollars a month. But it kept going up. They said it was because they were sending more business my way. Getting their business had been great, and I didn't want to complain when things were going so well, so I kept paying."

Theo shook his head. "But now it's to the point that I barely make enough after paying their fee to pay my other bills. I asked them to get rid of the fee or at least reduce it, since I'd proven I was a good and steady partner, but they wouldn't budge. They said I had to pay or they'd refuse to let anyone they have under contract do business with me. They told me they had relationships with suppliers, and I could find it hard to get any parts or repairs for my equipment if I made a big deal out of paying the fee. And they implied that my business might suffer an accident – a fire maybe – if I tried to shift more of my business to independent artists or musicians under other labels."

"They used that review of your financials to see how much you could afford to pay without going under," Peter explained. "They want you to stay in business, otherwise they don't make any money from you."

"I spoke with the owners of other studios, casually, to see if the same thing happened to them. They wouldn't talk about the fees, but several said they were also 'certified' with Masterson. And at least one of them told the company I was asking around. I got a visit from a scary dude a few months ago who said I needed to shut up. He made it clear that I'd regret it if I talked to the cops or any other legal authorities about this certification program."

Theo didn't have much in the way of physical evidence, other than his bank statement showing the checks he'd written to Masterson Music. Theo had a copier in his office and Peter sent Travis to make copies of those bank statements. Peter made a list of the people Theo had spoken with at the other recording studios, and the names of the people Masterson had sent to talk to him. "I'll run names to see if any of them have a criminal record," Peter promised.

Neal led a discussion with Theo, Sam and Cassie about how to get Masterson interested in Urban Legend, and Peter excused himself to check on Travis. It shouldn't take that long to make the copies. Maybe the copier was malfunctioning.

He found Travis standing at the copier. The originals and copies were in neat piles of equal height, so the job appeared to be done. But his stance was unusually tense. "What's up?" Peter asked casually, trying to ease into the question of what was wrong.

Travis took a deep breath and asked without turning around, "We're not really doing much on the Robert Winslow case for a while, right?"

"That's right. Jones is adding the evidence we gathered at Enscombe to the file, so we can get a conviction on the kidnapping, but there isn't much else going on until the Coast Guard retrieves him."

Travis turned around. His normally thoughtful expression was more fierce than Peter had ever seen from him. "Please put me on this case, Peter. This is why I joined the FBI, to fight the bullies of the world. These people have to be stopped."

Peter nodded. "When Neal first told me about them, I had no idea how corrupt they were. I'm sure we'll throw a lot of resources at going through their files once we get a warrant." Looking at Travis' face he added, "But you want something more than that. Okay. How about this? Neal has a plan to get invited into Masterson's offices. We won't have much time, and I suspect they won't let us take any contracts or other paperwork out with us, because they know their terms are too predatory to be legal. We need a device we can take with us to scan copies of documents, and it has to be small and inconspicuous enough that it won't make anyone suspicious. That could be crucial to gathering the evidence we need to get a warrant and make an arrest."

"Thank you," Travis said. "I can put that together for you."

###

Neal accepted Peter's offer of a ride back to the Federal Building.

"I have to ask," Peter said as he pulled away from the curb and floored it into the afternoon traffic, "why bring me in? I know you could have convinced Theo to tell you everything."

"And I'd planned to do as much as I could without FBI support, yeah. But you're part of the crew now, and this is your area of expertise."

"Speaking of the crew, is there anyone else I haven't met?"

"Well, other than Yvette as our lawyer, I think that's it. June's part of it, too. Did you know Byron was a musician? June sang with his group in some of the top New York clubs, back in the '60s."

Peter checked his mirror and executed a lane change that had Neal holding on for dear life. "Wait. Byron Ellington. Any relation to Duke Ellington?"

"So the story goes. June said she can get us some famous jazz musicians if we really start to record an album. With Cassie on drums, if we can get a few horn players we'll be set. Miranda has songs she'll let us record, so we'll have a full band and original music."

"Theo Guy have any other suggestions for you?" Peter asked. He signaled for a left turn and Neal closed his eyes rather than watch as the oncoming traffic closed in on them.

"You realize most people actually slow down going into turns?" Neal opened his eyes again. "Theo was so grateful he had several fantastic ideas. He'll need to run it by his old band members, but if they go for it, Henry's going to be so excited he won't be able to sit still. He'll be jumping all around June's music room when I tell him."

"This sounds promising."

"The Local Devastation reunion concert is coming up later this month."

Peter looked at Neal in surprise.

"Eyes on the road!" Neal insisted.

Looking forward again Peter said, "That's the benefit concert to raise money for drug rehab programs, right?"

"Yeah. He's gonna see if Urban Legend can perform a song with Local Devastation at that concert. And he'll ask if one or more of them would be willing to be featured in a song on our album. He even said he'd ask if Michael Darling has a song we can use. There's a possibility..." Neal trailed off, feeling dazed. "Michael wrote a Christmas rock ballad that's amazing. I saw the sheet music when I met him in St. Louis last December, and had a chance to play it through on piano. I remember thinking it would go to the top of the charts at the holiday season if someone recorded it. I asked Theo... Well, he's gonna see if Michael would let us record it as a single."

Peter chuckled as he pulled into the Federal Building parking garage.

"What?"

"I was thinking about how you said Henry would react. Do you want to jump around the parking garage before we head inside?"

Neal realized he was grinning and couldn't stop if he tried. "Thanks for the offer, but we don't have that much time."

A/N: The band Local Devastation and Michael Darling's Christmas song were introduced way back in the story Choirboy Caffrey.