Of course, Mrs. Ellington

Chapter 5

The room was suddenly smaller. No air in it. The accusation sinking in just a little more. No one moved.

"And you know this how?" Matthews asked. He was composed, communicating nothing.

Peter put the file on the table, slid it across the glass desk in his direction.

Matthews took a sheet from the file. It had three names on it. One of them was his.

"Agent Burke, you seem like a smart man. I want you to think very carefully before you make your next statement. How did you come to be in possession of this document?"

"Can't say."

Matthews leaned forward, turned his head in almost a mechanical fashion and looked directly at Hughes.

"This meeting is over. Everyone out but you inspector."

They filed out in silence. Peter went to his office as Jones and Berrigan lingered outside forming a protective phalanx around their boss and friend. Exiled to his office, he let out the breath he was holding. His mind running through all the possibilities, testing them against the few facts he had available. Now the ball was squarely in Matthew's court.

Three men in mid priced suits arrived almost immediately, asking for all communications logged in the past 24 hours. Diana asked Jones to run interference as she took an incoming call. The information streaming across her cell might be the game changer they needed. She hurriedly made her way back to the bullpen.

"Do you think he's okay?" Jones asked looking into Peter's office.

"No. I don't think he's okay. But he might get there after he sees this."

She waited in the corridor for a moment, then entered Peter's office. Closed the door behind her and locked it. She recognized the look in his eyes...tactical, when he was reorganizing around a setback.

"Boss this just came in. I though you'd want to see it before Matthew's guys find it out." She handed him the cell. "Danny Flynn Jr. was found murdered, execution style just over an hour ago."

"Who sent this?"

"It's better you don't know, but there's more. Several known associates of the Flynn organization were also found murdered in separate locations. Among them Timmy, the Vest, Malone in Boca Raton. He was a former CI in the Washington Bureau."

"Does anyone else here know about it?"

"No."

"OK, lets keep it that way for now."

Their meeting was cut short as a visibly agitated Hughes knocked on the locked door.

"Peter, I need to see you in my office. Now!"

"You want to tell me what the hell just happened in there."

"Listen to me. I just got a report. Danny Flynn Jr. was found dead earlier today, executed. Three other known associates also killed. I was right. Reese, they are cleaning house."

"You better be right. Matthews is bringing in Deputy Director Bancroft. And as of now, you are no longer on this case pending a full investigation into your actions by OPR."

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She moved an errant lock of hair from his face, half expecting those baby blues to open. He seemed so young. She hummed softly to him. Susan said stimulation was important to Neal now, it would help him wake up. Near the end, she sang to Byron every day. He always believed in second chances, but some chances you lose.

It was hard to keep her wits about her when he was near. She always felt a little drunk. Lord, she loved him. More than she should, more than he let her. She wanted to stay as close to him as possible and to watch him. As terrible as his dying was, a lovely peace settled in.

"Do you remember our first date?" she was sitting by his bedside. The doctors told her it would be anytime now.

"Of course. Rao's. You had the shrimp vodka, I had the chicken."

Sometimes his mind was clear and sharp as a tack. This was one of those times. It was a good day. He wasn't feeling the pain as much anymore, he didn't labor to breathe. It didn't hurt her to watch him. He squinted at the roses, he knew they meant something.

"And you had Tony bring over that yellow rose."

"It made an impression," he smiled...he remembered.

"It certainly did," she laid her hand on his shoulder.

That night outside the restaurant, he kissed her before she could equivocate. She wanted something to hold onto. She had to keep her heart in check, but she couldn't. She was falling hard.

"You know about me, who I am."

"Yes," she whispered.

"Tell me."

"You're a con man."

"We're meant to be together. You feel it too, and that's no lie. We can take it easy or go for broke, but I promise you this. I'll never lie to you."

Maybe she had gone crazy, fallen under a spell. Why did she think he was telling her the truth? Isn't this what con men do, convince you of their lies? Maybe there was a string of girls with yellow roses he'd made promises to. How could she prove he was telling the truth? She couldn't. But in that moment she wanted to take the risk. And through everything, in all their life together the one true thing between them, he never lied to her.

She kept faith in him and he kept his promise. This was love.

"I'm tired baby," his breath was shallow. "I'm going to rest now."

Death wasn't unexpected. It was coming for him with a swift and sure cruelty. You are not taking him she wanted to scream. I'm not letting him go. I'm going to keep him safe, but she couldn't. She had to let him go.

"June?" Neal whispered.

His eyes were open and he was looking into hers. He was awake. He hadn't let go.

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"So what did Hughes say?"

"I'm off the case."

"OK, so suppose I work the murders off the book and keep you in the loop. We have intelligence on Flynn from the Greenspoint incident. Ruiz will be happy for the help, as long as he can take the credit."

"Look Diana, I have no right to ask for your help. I should never have involved you in this."

"You forget. I volunteered."

She squared her shoulders. She knew she was doing the right thing. He needed her help and it was simple as that. Before Peter could protest, a call came into his phone.

"Mozzie. This had better be important."

"It's about Neal suit, meet me at Thursday."

Peter appeared at the door to Thursday within half an hour. The expression on Mozzie's face heightened his anxiety.

"Tell me what you know."

"I got a call from a former associate in Detroit, who shall remain unidentified if you get my drift."

"Mozzie, I don't have time for..."

"You want to know about the corruption, top of the FBI?"

"How do you know about that?"

"This was delivered to me, over an hour ago."

"By who?"

"I wasn't exactly checking ID's. They said it would help a friend. They mentioned Neal by name. And now you know what I know."

They both stared at the brown envelope sitting on the table.

"Whatever is in here is going to change everything suit. These guys who gave us this, aren't exactly in the business of helping out the Feds. Leverage is like mother's milk to them. Loyalty is everything. Imagine Navy Seals and multiply times 100. Which means as much as they want this, they want you to have it more."

"So why give this up now?"

"Someone's calling in a marker."

Peter opened the envelope. He was focused so intently on the contents that, until Mozzie gave an uncomfortable cough, did he realize he had stopped breathing. He banged his fist on the table.

"Suit, the men who are behind this tried to kill Neal. Be careful."

As he returned to the Federal Building, details turned over and over in his head. Everything fit. He fished his cell phone from his pocket and dialed the Marshals.

He entered the conference room unannounced and uninvited, flanked by the Marshals. The agents gathered there visibly started. Hughes was clearly unhappy.

"Deputy Director Bancroft, Inspector Matthews," he acknowledged the lead agents.

"Have you thought of something to tell us?" Matthews asked, unable to get a read on Burke. There was something in his expression that wasn't there before.

"Yes, I have. Not only are the men responsible for poisoning my partner in this room. They are the same men who have been behind a thirty year cover up of the death of a Washington DC policeman, the deaths of two federal witnesses and a multimillion dollar extortion scheme."

"Interesting speculation, Agent Burke. But do you have any facts to support this fantasy your spinning." Matthews was obviously shaken as he struggled to support control of a situation rapidly shifting from under him.

Peter lifted the brown envelope's flap and slid two photographs out. The first was a long lens shot, a little grainy, but a viable photograph nonetheless. It showed a much younger Matthews when he was just getting started at Organized Crime receiving a suitcase from Danny Flynn Sr, with Timmy Vest looking on. The second photograph was a closer shot, same men but in the background was another man, helping to count what seemed like a large amount of cash. The then young and rising star of the Office for Professional Responsibility...Deputy Director Bancroft.

Hughes sat back in his seat.

"Once in a great while there is a difference between the law and justice. Sometimes justice has to step outside the law, Peter said calmly. It's taken thirty years, but today justice has been served."

The Marshals moved in and began reading the suspects their rights.

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He wasn't afraid of death. He was afraid of going back and disappointing the people who had faith in him. Could he stay on the path he'd chosen? Could he? Could he hold onto himself and let the other things go? She said it wasn't his time. She said hold on.

"Neal, honey can you hear me?"

He was visible. He saw relief in her face. He recalled the first time he met her at the thrift store. She spotted him when he thought he was being invisible. It scared him the first time she did it. He had become so practiced at hiding in plain sight. And when she saw right through the con, it took his breath away. It almost broke his heart, he had been so alone for so long.

"June?"

"I'm right here."

"What happened to me?

"You were poisoned."

"Was it bad?"

"Bad enough," she smiled.

"Where's Peter?"

"He's on his way over here now. He found the men who did this to you. The men who set up your father. Everything is going to be fine now. I'm going to get your doctor."

"June, how is he? I came as soon as I could."

"Dr. Kaplan is finishing up with him now. He says his prognosis for a full recovery is excellent."

"Thank God."

"He's been asking for you. Why don't you go in. I'm sure the doctor won't mind."

Dr. Kaplan finished typing his notes. He looked up at Peter and smiled. He said Neal was recovering nicely and tomorrow he would be moved out of ICU. He told Neal what had happened to him was traumatic and if he wanted to talk to someone, he could call in a psychologist. Neal didn't protest.

"How are you buddy?" Peter sat down next to his bed.

"A little sore."

"You gave us a real scare," the adrenaline had finally burned through him. The magnitude of what might have happened crashed down on him. He struggled for control.

"I was afraid we were going to lose you."

"Why? You always find me," Neal's mouth curved in amusement.

"That's four for four. Not that anyone's keeping score."

"Don't make me laugh. It still hurts."

"Then lets talk about sad things. Mozzie's closing Thursday. Says it's been hopelessly tainted..."

The food carts were coming down the halls. It was time for the new shift, the noise and motion of the hospital was in full swing. She watched as the two men talked, partners, friends.

"Sorry to interrupt boys. But this old body needs to rest. Neal, you're in good hands. I'm going to go home, and I promised Mozzie I would help store some things for him."

She smiled down at him and kissed his forehead.

"Good night Neal."

"June, thank you so much for taking care of me," he reluctantly let her hand go.

When she reached the hospital exit, there was a black limousine waiting, the engine running. Sitting in the front seat was a man in his early fifties. Lean and dark, the expression in his eyes sharklike. He was a dapper dresser, not flashy. He stepped out and opened the door.

"Mrs. Ellington."

"Thank you," she stepped into the back.

"Mr. Disomone sends his regrets, he could not be here in person. He asked me to give you this." He reached a long stem yellow rose to her.

"The matter with the Flynn Organization has been taken care of?" she asked.

"Yes, as you requested."

"And the FBI?"

"Done. I don't think your friend has anything more to worry about."

She held the yellow rose as tears filled her eyes. Neal was safe. She had kept him safe.

"Would you take me home please?"

"Of course, Mrs. Ellington."

The End.

Author's notes: Thank you so very much to all of you have stayed with my story. Those of you who have reviewed with words of encouragement and advice, and those who added it your alerts, follows and favorites. It so helps to hear from you, as I work to become a better writer.

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