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This transcript for White Collar is based on the transcriptions by Afiawri, with assistance from Photoash (hosts episodes and helped with parts of the transcripts), Wednesday_10_00 (helped with the Japanese in Home Invasion), and Tzikeh and Nightcamedown helped with the wine in Bottlenecked. Afiawri has generously granted us permission to share/host these transcripts.

Disclaimer: This transcript is intended for educational and promotional purposes only, and may not be reproduced commercially without permission from the producers. The description contained herein represents viewers' secondhand experience of White Collar.



Episode 1x12: "Bottlenecked"
Written by: Tom Garrigus
Directed by: Phil Abraham

Act 1Edit

[Cut to: Neal sorting through his mail.]

Mozzie: Realists don't fear the results of their study.

Neal: Then why don't you find me more favorable results, Dostoyevsky?

Mozzie: I hit everybody who would or could know about the damn music box. Nothing's coming up.

Neal: Well, keep looking. Moz. [He shows Mozzie a post card.]

Mozzie: Ah, your anonymous chess opponent again. Why aren't you more curious about who's sending them? Neal: I like the mystery.

Mozzie: Your girlfriend's missing. You can't find the one thing that might free her. One could say there's enough mystery in your life. Where's the postmark from on this one?

Neal: There isn't one.

Mozzie: There isn't one? As in someone hand delivered this card to your door?

Neal: This is odd. The other cards are blank, the new one has a picture of the Museum of Natural History on it. A good mystery makes life interesting.

Mozzie: You know the Chinese curse. May you live in interesting times.

Neal: Well, you know that's the first of two curses.

Mozzie: What's the other one?

Neal: May you find what you're looking for. What's the move?

Mozzie: Uh, knight to D7.

Neal: Knight to D7. [Neal makes the move on his chess board.]

Mozzie: You've done this move before, haven't you?

Neal: Moz, I know who I'm playing. Keller. This is our last game.

Mozzie: Keller. Well, looks like he's in New York. Who won?

Neal: I don't know. We never finished playing.

[Cut to: Neal at this desk at the FBI, paging through some files. Peter walks in.]

Peter: Neal.

Neal: Peter.

Peter: You're here early.

Neal: So are you.

Peter: What're you doing?

Neal: Research.

Peter: Heist of the American Museum of Natural History. Not your normal hot bed of crime and intrigue.

Neal: Yeah, it's probably nothing.

Peter: Hold on. Interesting list of times stolen. Antique cork duck decoys from the store room. They also took wax sealed supply list and French soil samples that belong to Doctor John Bartram.

Neal: Father of American botany.

Peter: Just playing a hunch?

Neal: Oh, they already have a suspect. They caught a guy stuffing his backpack.

Peter: Manuel Campos. He's out on bail today. Maybe we should go talk to him.

Neal: We could do that.

[Cut to: Neal and Peter walking down the sidewalk.]

Peter: I think it's great you've taken an interest in a small time museum heist.

Neal: History is important.

Peter: Yes, duck decoys and French soil samples. You don't want me looking into this, why?

Neal: I don't want to waste your time with a hunch.

Peter: Cut the crap. What's going on here?

Neal: Look, I'm being honest with you Peter, I don't know yet.

Peter: Okay, clearly, there's something bigger going on here. I don't believe for a minute this Campos is the mastermind and neither do you. Who’s pulling the strings and why do I give a damn?

Neal: Well, I have a theory. [A car comes charging out of nowhere.] Oh, look out, look out!

[The car plows into a man who was walking down the street.]

Neal: That's Campos.

Campos' wife: Oh my god! Manuel!

Peter: You're going to tell me what the hell is going on. [He rushes over to Campos.]

[Cut to: intro.]

[Cut to: Peter on the phone as Neal enters his office.]

Peter: Right. [He hangs up the phone.] Manuel Campos just died in ICU. His wife's a mess, says she didn't see the driver. NYPD's out of leads. Tell me who’s responsible for this.

Neal: His name's Matthew Keller. He's the blue collar version of me.

Peter: Keller. He's been on our radar before.

Neal: And he's always slipped off.

Peter: Interpol's linked him to everything from arms smuggling to stolen antiquities.

Neal: Well, yeah, but they never had anything more than hearsay. Keller's never been caught.

Peter: All right, who is he? Some kind of rival of yours?

Neal: More like an opponent. We met at the Grand Casino, cut our teeth in Monaco working the world backgammon finals. Last I heard he pulled the Stockholm airport robbery.

Peter: He drove right up to a flight unloading krugerrands. Left fake bombs on the run way so no one could follow. You met him playing backgammon?

Neal: It was simpler times. If this is Keller, I'm guessing he posted Campos' bail so he could get rid of him.

Peter: All right. What's with the museum heist, the cork and the wax?

Neal: It was a bet Keller and I made a long time ago. Counterfeit a bottle of wine owned by Ben Franklin.

Peter: You and your wine, that's why people are dying on the street?

Neal: Marie Antoinette gave Franklin a bottle of Château Du Munn. It's rumored to be in private hands, but it's never gone to auction. The point is the Franklin bottle can't be counterfeited.

Peter: So it's a challenge. Figure out who can pull off the impossible.

Neal: May the best man win.

Peter: I don't care about your rivalry. If he's my killer, I want him. Let's check around and see if there's any chatter on this bottle.

[Cut to: Peter and a stuffy man sitting in the conference room.]

Peter: Mr. Cattigan.

Sir Roland Cattigan: Sir Roland Cattigan.

Peter: Ah, Sir Cattigan. You know about this Franklin bottle?

Sir Roland Cattigan: Yes. A seller will be presenting it on Friday and we will be adding it to Weatherbys auction.

Peter: Who is the seller?

Sir Roland Cattigan: May I ask why the FBI wants to know?

Peter: It's a forgery.

Sir Roland Cattigan: Oh, that's quite impossible. The Franklin bottle-

Peter: Can't be faked. Ever.

Sir Roland Cattigan: Well, my seller wishes to remain anonymous.

Peter: Then you're going to have to disappoint him.

Sir Roland Cattigan: Tell me, Agent, do you fancy yourself a wine aficionado?

Peter: I like a good pinot now and again.

Sir Roland Cattigan: Pinot. You've seen Sideways.

Peter: Your point?

Sir Roland Cattigan: My point is that my palate is insured by lords of London for a million euros. My point is that you don't understand the subtleties of my business.

Peter: I think I do. Word gets out a high profile bottle like this is fake, you're done. Now, I don't want to shut your business down and search your premises with a warrant. [He picks up a piece of paper off the table.] But I will.

Sir Roland Cattigan: I don't know the seller. But the broker for the battle is a woman named Grace Quinn. Satisfied?

Peter: I believe I am. [We see it was a menu in his hand as Cattigan leaves.]

Neal: What's this?

Peter: My search warrant. Put me down for mushu pork.

Neal: I'm a bad influence.

Peter: The broker's name is Grace Quinn. Says here she own an upscale wine cellar called Bin 903. Think we can link her to Keller?

Neal: Yeah, let me talk to her.

Peter: What?

Neal: You can’t go asking around with a badge, you'll scare them off. I'll tell her I'm representing a client who’s interested in the bottle, see what I can dig up. You know where to find me. [He lifts the leg of his pants to reveal his tracker.] Peter: Always do.

Neal: A'right.

[Cut to: An open space that looks like a living room, but isn’t.]

Neal: Château Latour. Mouton-Rothschild. Case of Pétrus 1945.

Grace: That's a serious collection.

Neal: Look, my client doesn't want his ex-wife or the IRS to know about his holdings.

Grace: That's not uncommon. We're very discreet here. If you'd like to bring him by, I'm hosting a private wine tasting to celebrate Weatherbys' annual sale.

Neal: Does that invite extend to me?

Grace: If you bring you client, it does. We'll be opening some rare bottles.

Neal: All right, I can see what I can do. Look, my client is a very cautious man, it'll help if I can give him a first hand account of the facilities. Any chance I can get a tour?

Grace: Of course. Right this way.

[Cut to: Neal and Grace descending a staircase.]

Grace: As you'll see, our vault is state of the art. Humidity is at a constant sixty-two percent, temp at fifty degrees Fahrenheit.

Neal: Nice. [He tries the door and an alarm goes off.] Ooh, sorry. About that.

Grace: It's okay. That's what it's here for. We change the code every day.

Neal: Good. I noticed you don't have surveillance cameras.

Grace: Well, we consider our clients' anonymity to be top priority. I assume it's something a cautious man like your client would appreciate.

Neal: Well, you assume right, Grace.

Grace: Shall we?

[They enter. Neal looks around.]

Neal: Château Du Munn, post French revolution. Nice. Who's the collector?

Grace: I can't say.

Neal: Wouldn't happen to be the same individual auctioning the Franklin bottle on Friday?

Grace: I can't comment on that bottle. But, uh, no, it's not the same individual.

Neal: Mm-hm. Seems more his speed.

Grace: That I can neither confirm nor deny.

Neal: Let's be honest with each other, I know you're brokering the sale.

Grace: You shouldn't.

Neal: If I didn't, I wouldn't be very good at my job, Miss Quinn.

Grace: Your client must be well connected.

Neal: That I can neither confirm nor deny. I'd love to meet the seller of the bottle sometime. [He spots a postcard sticking out of one of the books stacked in the corner.] He's been here recently, hasn't he?

Grace: What makes you say that?

Neal: A man of his taste, I'm sure he has an appreciation for history. As do I. May I...?

Grace: Be my guest.

Neal, opening the book to the marked page: King's Crown. A tavern once frequented by George Washington, now long buried under Water Street. Fascinating. [The card reads "8 PM."] I get the message.

Act 2Edit

[Cut to: A sign that says "WATER STREET CLOSED FOR CONSTRUCTION"]

[Neal's phone rings.]

Neal: What's up, Peter?

Peter, on the phone: How did your chat go with Miss Quinn?

Neal: Oh, I didn't find anything on Keller.

Peter: You think he finished the forgery?

Neal: Maybe, look, I don't know. Did you find anything on your end?

Peter: I might know why he's running this scam and it's got nothing to do with you.

Neal: Am I supposed to feel relieved?

Peter: I would be. I contacted Interpol, their sources say he's got a big bullseye on his back.

Neal: Yeah?

Peter: Yeah. That Stockholm heist he pulled? Was bankrolled with Russian mob money. Seems the comrades got a little upset when he skipped Europe without giving them their cut.

Neal: If they catch him now, they'll kill him.

Peter: Unless he promised the Russians their money back and then some.

Neal: He's going to pay off his debt with the money from the bottle.

Peter: I want you here first thing in the morning. I want to find Keller before they do.

Neal: Me too. [He hangs up. He approaches a man behind the construction fence.] Matthew Keller.

Keller: So you got my post cards.

Neal: Thanks for keeping in touch.

Keller: We never did get to finish our game. Aren't you curious to see who wins?

Neal: Not anymore. Manuel Campos died today.

Keller: I'm sorry, who?

Neal: Your thief. He had a wife.

Keller: Still afraid to get dirty, huh, Caffrey?

Neal: Violence requires no imagination. Anyone can use a gun. Or a car.

Keller: That's why you'll always be second rate. Yeah. You're too weak to do what's necessary to get what you want. Including Kate, from what I heard.

Neal: Nice try. But you officially lost that one.

Keller: You were in prison for what, four years? Missed a lot of Valentines Days. I forgot how endearing it was when she talks in her sleep.

[Neal runs at Keller, but his tracking anklet goes off. Neal steps back.]

Keller: I should've warned you, but we're, uh, at the edge of your leash here. Might want to take it easy. Imagine how I felt when I found out you of all people, working for the feds?

Neal: I step forward and a dozen FBI agents will be here in minutes.

Keller: That right? Be my guest. The only one they'll have sufficient cause to arrest is you.

Neal: Really?

Keller: Yeah.

[Neal gestures to a no trespassing sign.]

Keller: Trespassing? Ugh, come on, Neal, you're clutching at straws here.

Neal: They got Al Capone on tax evasion.

Keller: You flatter me with the comparison.

Neal: What do you want?

Keller: I want to play the game.

Neal: The Franklin bottle?

Keller: Yeah. I want to know who's the best.

Neal: You've already submitted yours for the auction. I guess you won.

Keller: You never could follow through, Caffrey. That's why Kate went looking for someone else. I'll give you the first piece. [He tosses Neal a bottle.] Now let's play the game. You got ten days.

[Cut to: Mozzie holding the bottle and walking with Neal down the street.]

Mozzie: What is this?

Neal: A challenge.

Mozzie: Okay, where'd you get it?

Neal: Keller. He wants a face off. He gave me the first piece to forge my own Franklin bottle.

Mozzie: Awfully sporting of him.

Neal: Well, not exactly. Gave himself a big head start.

Mozzie: Why do I get the feeling this isn't about the bottle?

Neal: Moz.

Mozzie: It's about Kate. It always was between you and Keller. Like he ever had a chance.

Neal: It doesn't matter what it was about, Keller killed a man.

Mozzie: Oh, sure, sure, now you're the noble warrior. Okay, what's the plan?

Neal: I'm going to beat him. He gave me the bottle, now we need to fill it, cork it, seal it, and label it. You like scavenger hunts?

Mozzie: I've been known to uncover an Easter egg or two in my time. What's on the list?

[Cut to: Peter's office.]

Peter: You saw Keller?

Neal: I did.

Peter: Damn it, Neal, we could've done this right. I could've taken him down-

Neal: On what, exactly? He's completely clean. That's how he works.

Peter: Doesn't take away the fact that you should've cleared it with me first.

Neal: You're right, I should've.

Peter: You should've. Weatherbys received Keller's bottle this morning.

Neal: Wow, it's good.

Peter: Yeah, it's also our only piece of evidence linking Keller to Campos' murder and it's locked in a vault. Might as well be at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, considering how circumstantial all of this is.

Neal: I'm assuming a take out menu won't fly this time.

Peter: Nope.

Neal: Unless we can convince him it’s a fake.

Peter: That Cattigan guy won't stop the auction just because you claim it's a fake, and when you prove that it is...

Neal: We can submit a Franklin bottle of our own. There’s only one bottle in existence, right? If I turn in a fake that's just as good as Keller's, they'll have to test them both.

Peter: What kind of test?

Neal: Standard stuff. Carbon date the cork, run a molecular test on the wax, spectroscopic refraction on the glass.

Peter: Stuff that they got from the museum heist.

Neal: Right. His bottle and mine will pass those and so will mine. That'll force the auction house to run a cesium test. They don't like to run them because they're so expensive, but it's a way to determine the age of the wine in the bottle without opening it. Cesium 137 doesn't exist in nature. After they detonated the first atomic bomb, it spread around the world. Anything that was bottle before 1945-

Peter: Like the real Franklin bottle.

Neal: Right. Is cesium free. If Keller's bottle has it, it's a fake.

Peter: Why can't I just get some hundred year old wine and fill it up?

Neal: There's the rub. They'd know you just added it because the oxygen content would be too high. That’s why it can’t be forged.

Peter: And you think you can beat this cesium test?

Neal: No, nobody can. It’s impossible. That's the beauty of it.

Peter: You force the test, you both fail, it proves that Keller's bottle’s a counterfeit. We got him on fraud.

Neal: Yeah, it's not murder, but it's a start.

Peter: How are you going to put the bottle together?

Neal: I already got a man on it.

[Cut to: Mozzie working in Neal's apartment.]

Neal: How's it coming?

Mozzie: AAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Neal: Moz. Overreact much? What're you going to do with tweezers?

Mozzie: The shonobi ninja can fashion a weapon out of anything.

Neal: You're not a ninja.

Mozzie: And that's exactly what I want you to believe.

Neal: How's the bottle coming?

Mozzie: Oh, I, uh, paid off a guard at that Maritime exhibit for French cork made before the industrial revolution.

Neal: We got our newspaper. Let's see, New York Gazette from 1785.

Mozzie: They use it for insulation in the walls at the Colonial Ale House.

Neal: That's perfect.

Mozzie: There's only one egg missing from our basket.

Neal: Wax.

Mozzie: Preferably eighteenth century beeswax from the Château Du Munn vineyard.

Neal: Well, Grace, Keller's broker, has a few Château Du Munn in her vault. How much wax do we need?

Mozzie: Not much. I can make it work with just a few shavings. How's the security there?

Neal: Good. Keypad with a rotating code. Biometric scanner plate

Mozzie: Oh, so you can just-

Neal: With pulse monitor.

Mozzie: Oh, that makes it trickier. So how do you get in?

Neal: Have her open the door.

Mozzie: For you?

Neal: No, for my client. Carlton Lead.

Mozzie: Who's that?

[Cut to: Peter's dinning table.]

Peter: No.

Neal: That's your favorite word, isn't it?

Peter: It's a classic. Nope, never, forget about it. What makes you think I would break into any place with you and steal anything?

Neal: We are not breaking in. You'll be shown around. And we're not stealing anything. Of value. All I need are some wax shavings. It's like taking a lock of hair from the floor of a barber shop.

Peter: Theft is theft.

Neal: I'm a CI, not an agent. I don't have the same restrictions. We can call this one a gray area.

Peter: Nada.

Neal: Come on. You can get all dressed up, hobnob with pretty people, drink a fine glass of Port.

Peter: From everything you know about me, what makes you think I'd enjoy any of what you just said?

Neal: Because this is about catching a killer. A wax shaving for a murder.

Peter: This won't affect the value of anything in Grace's collection?

Neal: Nope, no, nada.

Peter: You know, for the record, I hate Port. It's syrupy.

Neal: There will be other options.

[Cut to: Peter and Neal climbing some stairs.]

Peter: I still say this tie is ridiculous.

Neal: It's Italian. And it looks good.

Peter: I feel like I should be flossing my teeth with it, not wearing it around my neck.

Neal: All right, the sooner we get Grace to show us the cellar, the sooner you can get back to your favorite pair of sweat pants. Now, I know wine isn't your thing-

Peter: It's a tasting, Neal. I nose a bottle, take a sip and say something pretentious like rich with nice body.

Neal: Speaking of.

Grace: You made it. You must be Mr. Lead.

Peter: Please, call me Carlton.

Grace: Grace Quinn. I hear you're a man of discriminating taste, I hope we find something to your liking today. I love your tie. [She walks off.]

Neal: She loves the tie.

Peter: Yeah.

Grace, handing them glasses of wine: We'll be starting with a 1985 Château Pétrus Pomerol.

Neal: Great year. You're not holding back.

Grace: what do you think?

Neal: I'd say it's woodsy with a medium body and hint of-

Peter: The lady asked what I thought. The use of wood is evident in it's broadness of flavors. Great persistence in the mouth. It opens up well in the glass.

Grace: I would agree.

Peter: I understand you have a more... substantial, private collection.

Grace: Would you care to see the vault?

[Cut to: the vault.]

Grace: Your friend's not coming?

Peter: Oh, no, I don't need a baby sitter. Please, allow me. [He holds the door open for her so he can place a piece of duct tape over the latch.]

Grace: And you're a gentleman, too. As you can see, our security system is state of the art.

Peter: Really?

[Cut to: Neal watching a conversation.]

Old man: Yes, he's quite an expert.

Woman: Ah, yes, so.

Old man: Absolutely.

Grace: Would you like to try something else?

Peter: I'd love some, thank you.

[Cut to: Neal opening the vault door.]

[Cut to: Peter watching Grace descend the stairs with a client.]

[Cut to: Neal opening a box of wine.]

Neal: There you are. Château Du Munn, post French revolution. [He scrapes off some wax, sees them descending the stairs and ducks behind a shelf.

Peter: Miss Quinn, I have a question about the Château Pétrus. Sorry to interrupt.

Keller: Oh, please. Don't I know you?

Peter: I don't think so.

Keller: I guess you just have one of those faces, huh? [He finishes the wine in his hand. [To Grace:] Mind filling this up for me?

Grace: Of course.

Keller: Thank you. Now I got it. Yeah, I saw you earlier. You, uh, came in with your friend. Where'd he get off to anyway?

Peter: I don't know, I'm not his keeper.

Keller: You’re not, huh? See, I think you are. And now I'm wondering what would happen if I asked a security guard to check the vault. Right now. And I’m wondering what that does to a lawman's career when his errand boy is caught breaking into somebody's private property.

Peter: And I'm having a hard time figuring out why I don't book you for murder one. Right now.

Keller: Is that right?

Peter: Yeah.

Keller: How about I get Grace to lock this vault down? What are the cops going to find when they look inside?

Neal: A cellar full of dusty, over priced wine. [He walks out of the vault.]

Keller: You know what, I'm glad you brought in the FBI, Caffrey. Makes it exciting, right? Be that much richer when I beat you.

Neal: Oh, I forgot to tell you, he's a big fan of himself.

Peter: I noticed that.

Keller: By the way, I heard that somebody mowed down a citizen? Right in front of an FBI agent? What a shame. I mean, that's got to be embarrassing for the bureau, right? Good luck with that investigation.

Peter: I spent five minutes with the guy, I want to punch him right in the face.

Neal: Imagine how I feel.

Peter: You'll feel better when we take him down.

[Cut to: Hughes knocking on Peter's office door.]

Peter: This can't be good.

Hughes: Why does everyone say that when I walk into their office?

Peter: So you have good news?

Hughes: No. I contacted the auction house, they're closed to new entries.

Peter: Closed. We can't submit our bottle.

Hughes: Sorry, Peter. Now quit the fool's errands and catch this guy.

[Cut to: Neal holding the bottle.]

Neal: You've outdone yourself, Moz.

Mozzie: Flatterer. What's next?

Neal: All right, set up the vacuum pumps and transfer the wine.

[There's a knock on the door.]

Mozzie: Expecting someone? Keller, maybe?

Neal: June?

Peter: No.

Neal: Peter, hey. What're you doing here?

Peter, chewing a sandwich: Got some bad news. The auction house is closed to new entries. I appreciate your A team run here, guys, but I can't let you take your bottle to Weatherbys. It's Hughes. He pulled the plug.

Neal: If we don't, they won't run the cesium test. Keller will get away with a half million dollars and probably murder.

Peter: What if he wins? Or worse, what if you win? This guy will stop at nothing.

Mozzie: That's why we have to stop him. No offense, but your team... hasn't.

Peter: You're right. Keep going. Let's take him down. [Offering Mozzie his sandwich:] Finish?

Mozzie: Lactose.

Peter: See you in the morning. I'll call Jones and figure out a way to get this bottle into the auction.

Neal: Let's go, Havisham.

Act 3Edit

[Cut to: FBI office.]

Jones: Morning, Peter.

Peter: Morning.

Jones: I got nothing on the auction house. Weahterbys looks pretty damn legit.

Peter: Damn. I need some kind of leverage so Cattigan will let our bottle in.

Jones: Keller really got to you, huh?

Peter: Yeah, he's a piece of work. He and Neal may be rivals, but he's the anti-Caffrey, the bizzaro Neal.

Jones: You got something?

Peter: Yeah. Yeah, they had lousy weather in France this summer. Couple of blazing hot months. The grape harvest came up short.

Jones: That's good?

Peter: Yeah, 1947 was not a good year.

[Cut to: an auction.]

Auctioneer: Forty thousand dollars? Forty-five thousand dollars, thank you very much. Fifty thousand dollars, thank you sir. Fifty thousand dollars with the gentleman on my right. Fifty thousand- fifty-five thousand dollars. Fifty-five thousand dollars with the lady in the back, fifty-five thousand dollars. Fifty-five thousa- sixty thousand dollar, thank you sir. Sixty thousand dollars. I have it at sixty-five thousand dollars.

Peter: I see European nobles and a handful of hedge fund managers, but no sign of your buddy Keller. It's hard to arrest him on fraud if he doesn't show up.

Neal: Keller wouldn't miss the chance to see my face when this goes down. He must be watching.

Peter: So he could be anywhere.

Neal: No, he'll be nearby just in case anything goes wrong.

Peter: Doesn't help us much.

Neal: You think we can get this into the auction?

Peter: I have a move up my sleeve.

[Cut to: Cattigan examining two Franklin bottles.]

Sir Roland Cattigan: I'm sorry, I can't submit your bottle, since clearly it has to be counterfeit.

Neal: One of them has to be. How do you know it's not yours?

Peter: We have reason to believe this is the real bottle.

Sir Roland Cattigan: Where did you get it?

Peter: We're not at liberty to say.

Sir Roland Cattigan: Ah. I won't admit it to the auction.

Peter: You sure about that? Last year you sold six magnums of 1947 Château la Fleur. At about fifteen thousand dollars a bottle?

Sir Roland Cattigan: That's public record.

Peter: I talked to the vineyard. They only produced five magnums that year. You don't want people knowing you got scammed, do you? Bad for business.

Neal: I guess you'll have to test them both to find out.

Sir Roland Cattigan: I can't. It would take at least three hours. The auction-

Grace: Can wait. Three hours. My client welcomes the challenge.

Neal: Figured he might.

Peter: Oh, while we wait, why don't you give me the IP addresses of everyone watching on your internet feed. Thanks.

[Cut to: Peter talking on the phone.]

Cruz: Hey boss, how's it going?

Peter: They're running the test now.

Cruz: Congrats.

Peter: Yeah, not celebrating yet. How's it going in there?

Cruz: We're tracing those IPs.

Peter: Any hits?

Cruz: Three locations. The Carlisle, the peninsula, and a parking garage. Who'd be watching from a parking garage?

Peter: Somebody who wants to be on the move. Send units to the hotel, but put the bulk of our guys on the parking garage.

Neal: They're about to announce the results of the test.

Peter: We're about to move on Keller.

Neal: Sounds like checkmate to me.

Sir Roland Cattigan: Thank you again for your patience. We apologize for the delay, but as some of you are aware we have had to conduct a cesium test to verify the authenticity of the two bottles we have been presented with. The test shows that one of the bottles is a forgery.

Peter: One of the bottles?

Sir Roland Cattigan: The other, represented by Miss Grace Quinn, is authentic.

[The assembled bidders make interested noises.]

Sir Roland Cattigan: Thank you for your patience. The bidding will commence shortly.

Peter: You said it was impossible to fake.

Neal: It is impossible. Unless he had the real-

Peter and Neal: bottle all along.

Peter: If Keller had the real bottle, why would he go through all this? Why pretend to have a fake?

[Neal gestures towards the ringing phones and excited bidders.]

A bidder: This changes the game completely.

Peter: He wanted to drive up the price. Damn, that's it.

Neal: Surround the bottle with controversy, now everyone in here's dying to get there hands on it.

Peter: It'll go for double, even triple the price now.

Neal: Which gives him more than enough money to pay off the Russians. He used me to do it.

Peter: This was his plan the whole time. He is good.

Neal: We have to arrest him now. As soon as this auction ends, he's gone.

Peter: What are we going to arrest him on? I mean, we have nothing on him now.

Neal: Trespassing.

Peter: What? I can't believe I'm going to ask you this, but have you seen him trespass?

Neal: I have, actually. At a construction site. It had a no trespassing sign and everything.

Peter: We may not be able to hold him for long, but finding Keller's going to take a bit.

Neal: All right, well, I'll stall until you can get him.

Peter: Nothing-

Neal: Illegal, I know.

[Cut to: outside the auction house, Neal dials his phone.]

Mozzie: Yo.

Neal: Hey, Moz, it's me.

Mozzie: Is the auction over?

Neal: No, I just stepped outside.

Mozzie: So, how's it going?

Neal: Not good. Keller's bottle is real.

Mozzie: He has the real bottle? You're kidding me.

Neal: Nope.

Mozzie: Then why?

Neal: To drive the price up.

Mozzie: Brilliant. And we took the bait. Did they test both bottles?

Neal: Yep.

Mozzie: How'd our bottle do?

Neal: Passed every test except the cesium. You did great, Moz, now focus. I need your help. We can still this guy.

Mozzie: On what?

Neal: I'll tell you later. We got to find him first. Remember how I told you Keller has a debt to the Russians?

Mozzie: Of course, I have perfect recall.

Neal: Well, I'm trying to stall the bidding. Keller's going to want to pay these guys off as soon as possible.

Mozzie: Which must mean that they're in town somewhere.

Neal: Exactly.

Mozzie: I'll ask around.

Neal: Well, do it fast. You find anything, meet me at Weatherbys. I'll leave a pass for you in the front.

[Cut to: Peter getting out of his Taurus next to a parking garage.]

Peter: Anything?

Cruz: Yeah, signal's coming from the Northwest corner of the garage. We've sealed off every entrance and exit.

Peter: All right, good. We're doing a floor by floor search, people, starting now. I want everyone prepared. This guy could be armed. Nobody gets out.

[Cut to: Weatherbys.]

Sir Roland Cattigan: I must say it appears this spot of intrigue has whetted appetites, so without further ado we'll open the bidding at one hundred thousand dollars. One hundred thousand and twenty.

Neal: What'd you find out?

Mozzie: I did follow up on your suit's intel. Turns out the Russians are indeed after

Keller. They want their money now. And Sergey himself is in town. He wants personal assurance from Keller he's going to get paid the moment this auction is done.

Neal: I got an idea.

[Cut to: parking garage.]

Peter: Anything?

Cruz: No, nothing yet.

FBI agent: Clear!

Cruz: Clear over here.

Peter: Damn it. All right, next floor. Let's move.

[Cut to: Auction.]

Sir Roland Cattigan: Three seventy-five, ladies and gentleman. Three seventy-five from the gentleman on my right.

Lady accepting calls: Here.

Sir Roland Cattigan: Four hundred thousand on the phone. Do I hear four twenty-five?

[Cut to: Garage. Peter, Lauren, and another agent approach a car.]

Peter, frustrated: No one inside.

Cruz: Look at this. [There's a computer in the car watching the auction live.]

Peter: Son of a bitch must have seen us coming.

[Cut to: Auction house. Neal is on the phone.]

Peter: He's not here. Security cameras have him fleeing the scene. He hot wired another car two minutes before we cordoned off the building.

Neal: So you have no idea where he is.

Peter: We're pulling surveillance footage on him now with traffic cams. Putting together a time line. Couldn't've gotten far. Didn’t have time to take his things with him.

Neal: His things?

Peter: Yeah, he had a laptop that he was monitoring the auction from.

Neal: He's not watching the auction anymore?

Peter: Probably not. Too concerned with getting the hell out of here.

Neal: All right. Find out where he's headed.

Sir Roland Cattigan: The bidding is now eight hundred thousand dollars to the gentleman on my right.

Mozzie: This is a lousy idea.

Neal: Do it, Moz.

Mozzie: These people don't take IOUs.

Sir Roland Cattigan: Fair warning. I can sell for eight hundred thousand dollars.

Neal: Do it!

Mozzie: One million dollars!

Bidders: Oh. Oh, we have a bid at one million. Yes.

Sir Roland Cattigan: Thank you, sir! One million dollars. And sold!

Mozzie: What did you get us into?

Neal: [He gets up and dials his phone.] Peter, where are you?

Peter: Still in the garage. What happened?

Neal: We won the bid.

Peter: What?

Neal: Don't worry, I've got a plan.

Peter: You usually do.

Neal: What's the status on Keller?

Peter: Headquarters is monitoring his movements in real time from traffic cams. Looks like he's headed South on Park.

Neal: South on Park. Thanks. [To Mozzie:] I know where Keller's going.

[Cut to: Keller approaching a helicopter.]

Neal: Bravo, Keller! Seriously.

Keller: Wow. So you came by to see me off, huh, Caffrey? Who knew you were such a gracious loser?

Neal: I have to admit using the real Ben Franklin bottle, did not see that coming. Stroke of genius, really.

Keller: Thanks. That actually means a lot coming from you. Only wish Kate was around to see it, I mean we both know she always loved a winner, right? We knows, maybe I'll look her up, see if she still does. So, I'm curious, how'd you find me?

Neal: Checked Sergey’s travel plans.

Keller: Ah.

Neal: See he does it in style. I also hear he doesn't take it lightly when somebody owes him money.

Keller: Owed. As in past tense. Hey, see our little go around with the bottle cleared my debts. In fact, I just got a 37:49??? from my broker. Bottle went for seven figures.

Neal: Wow, congratulations man.

Keller: Thanks, thank you.

Neal: Yeah, yeah. So it was a two birds, one stone thing? Humiliate me, turn a hefty profit while you're at it.

Keller: See, now you're catching on, Neal. Listen, I'd love to chat, buddy, but unless you've got anything else, I've should get going. All right? Be good.

Neal: I haven't made my offer yet.

Keller: This should be good.

Neal: I'd like to offer you the opportunity to offer a full confession for your crimes. The robbery at the natural history museum, murder of Manuel Campos, anything else you want to add in.

Keller: You know what, I was wrong. This isn't good. This is sad, man. This is a moment I'll cherish, seeing you at your most desperate.

Neal: The winner of the Franklin bottle. It wouldn't happen to be bidder number fifty seven, would it?

Keller: Why?

Neal: Now this is just awkward, but I don't have a million dollars. Luckily, the auction house said they'd give me a week to put the money together.

Keller: A week, huh? Know what, a week's not that long. I can buy that.

Peter: Did you tell him I'm launching a full blown federal investigation on the bottle?

Neal: Oh, yeah, there's that too. How long can a federal investigation go on for?

Peter: Not sure. Years.

Neal: Oh, years, wow.

Keller: Son of a bitch.

Neal: How patient are Sergey and your Russian friends?

Peter: You could take a helicopter ride and find out. Or you can come with us. Your choice.

Keller: Well played.

Neal: Good game, Keller.

Keller: Game ain't over.

Peter, to another FBI agent: Help this gentleman into the car.

Neal: Looks that way to me.

Keller: Yeah? Well you were locked up, broke out. Maybe it's my turn to accept a challenge. Best two out of three. I'll see you around, Caffrey.

Neal: I'm counting the days.

Peter: Poor Sergey’s going home empty handed.

[Cut to: Neal looking out over the water.]

Mozzie: Did I miss Keller? Damn, I wanted to see him do the perp walk.

Neal: Sorry. Good news is he won't be bothering us for a while.

Mozzie: How long is a while?

Neal: Maybe long enough to finish our chess game.

Mozzie: Think they have a prison that can hold him?

Neal: I don't know.

Mozzie: Okay, so what's the bad news?

Neal: You won't be drinking a million dollar bottle of wine tonight.

Mozzie: I'll live.

Neal: You were right. Could use one less mystery in my life.

Mozzie: Oh, I rescind that comment. There's suddenly been a lot of chatter about the music box. You need to talk to Alex.

Neal: She won't tell me anything while I work for the FBI.

Mozzie: Then make it worth her while.


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