I cursed inwardly as I made a startled face and turned around with my hands held high. The man in front of me had meticulously combed hair and slight wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, wearing a regulation suit and leather shoes and holding his gun smoothly in both hands.

"f...fbi?! I'm...I'm just a normal student! Not some suspicious person!" I said, pretending to be incoherent.

At that moment, the two men who had been in the watch shop also pushed their way out, the man in the gentleman's hat taking it off, his black, slightly wavy hair rippling, his magnificent light blue-green eyes intimidating. It was damn familiar.

He looked at the FBI who had their guns pointed at me and said, "The old man is dead, we're too late." With those words, Peter looked in my direction with a sharp look in his eyes.

I, however, stared at the man and exclaimed out of breath, "Neil Caffrey?!" It looked like a reaction of surprise, but the thought had actually been going through my head the moment I saw Neil take off his hat.

I had met him by chance in New York during the America's Next Top Model auditions and had helped the careless master scammer, Mr. Neil Caffrey, catch a suspect who was about to get away. I remember wondering at the time what kind of character Tom was who had caught this cunning Jerry, but now it seems to be the FBI in front of me who doesn't look good at all to talk to.

Now this was a situation that could be described as a nuisance and a good opportunity.

If you can get in touch with this master of fraud and learn a thing or two from his hands. In the future, even when trying to get close to Dexter, he wouldn't have to worry about being suspected by some intuitive animal. You should know that Dexter's latest ambition for his exams is medical science, and he plans to take up a forensic position in the Miami Police Department after graduation.

Nowhere, more than in the police department, are there more intuitive animals. A keen self-awareness of criminals, and old-fashioned experience.

Being able to understand the psychology of others, and being able to easily fool them and manipulate the psychology of the pair put in place are two different things. I am well read in various psychology books and practice profiling in my life. But to manipulate the other person's psychological changes requires a master of deception like Neil Caffrey, with ever-so-subtle verbal skills that hit the weaknesses of the other person's heart.

Even if I couldn't get him to teach me by example, if I could have more contact with him, I was sure that I could learn the art of language and the use of my own charisma from observing him.

Neil Caffrey, hearing me call out his name, turned to me in confusion and said suspiciously, "You are...? Ah! Aren't you the chap who gave me the heads up in the New York big box store a while back?"

"Yeah, for the sake of me helping you guys out once, could you ask this fbi gentleman to put down the gun he's pointing at me for a while?" I put a nonchalant smile on my face and watched as Peter finally removed the gun pointed at me and lowered the safety. Although he was still looking at me with a wary look on his face, ready to strike, at least I was no longer being poked in the face with a loaded gun.

"How did you tell it was Nala Brown in the first place and give Neil the tip?" Peter pressed, seeing the stitch.

I made an innocent face and explained, "Yikes! Don't you guys know yet? I was sitting at the table next to Mr. Caffrey, and my angle gave me a clear view of Gerard Brown's hand. His hand on the side of his thigh was tapping rhythmically, and since I used to be a dancer, I'm sensitive to rhythm."

"And then it so happened that I also had an interest in Morse code. The rhythm of his finger tapping made me realise that he was using Morse code to send messages to others to get out, evacuate and so on. Then with a little scanning of the people in the book bar at the time, I could see that Nara Brown's demeanour was very unnatural. Then after that, I went to the front desk and confirmed her name, and my suspicions were correct."

Both Peter and Neil Caffrey were obviously very surprised at my headlong explanation. Peter reacted by turning his head and mocking his family's peacock: "It seems there are plenty of people smarter than you in this world! You're the only one who doesn't have to be on the right track!" A sentence that ended with a bit of a biased grumble.

Looks like this criminal and FBI partner relationship is pretty good?

Neil Caffrey instantly barked like an exploding fox when he heard Peter's words, "I just habitually stare into people's eyes and talk, that's why I didn't notice the small movements in his hands, okay! It's polite to look someone in the eye when you're talking! Politeness!"

Tricks too, I added in my mind surreptitiously. Looking someone in the eye and speaking makes the faint-hearted nervous, makes strangers feel respected, and in short makes the words that come out of one's mouth more impressive.

And when trying to deceive or persuade someone, it is more convincing to speak in a calm tone and at a steady pace. Here's a summary I once read in a book on how to make a more effective sales pitch.

"You also noticed, through your own observations, the unnaturalness of Nala Brown among so many people in the book bar at the time? You know, old Brown was a veteran of scams, and I can't believe that Nara Brown didn't pick up that knowledge, from her old man. That's not something that the average person can do!" Neil said in a seemingly snide and complimentary manner.

But I knew if I couldn't give a proper response to that one line of reply, the suspicious label was probably going to be written all over me. I blinked and looked a little embarrassed, "I'm just observant, because I'm a psychology student and I've always been interested in micro-expressions. Usually when I'm bored I like to gawk at the people around me."

Apparently satisfied with my answer, Neal Caffrey came over to me and extended his right hand for a formal introduction. "What's your name? I'm Neil Caffrey, you already know that." With that he smiled and winked.

"Carl Black!" I laughed out my eight teeth. A double whammy, now even if I got searched for that fake passport, the name on that fake passport would be my real name as long as Neil didn't talk through it. And a name that had also been authenticated in front of an FBI agent.

The fbi division that Neil Caffrey worked for was the white collar crime section. There was very little contact with those criminal case departments like the bau team that I had contact with.

"Well Neil, we now need to question this Mr. Carl Black about the old man." Peter rolled his eyes skyward in disguise exaggeratingly, clearly unable to see Neil's failure to follow fbi procedures.

He turned to me with a serious expression and asked, "Can you tell me why you came from New York to San Francisco and wandered into this watch shop on this out-of-the-way side street? I am now questioning you as a suspect in that murder inside."

"Okay, fine!" I made a helpless face, "First of all, I'm really here on a trip. I happened to be hiking around the old streets of San Francisco today and saw this rare watch shop in the metropolis and on a whim I planned to go in and take a look."

"When I got inside, I saw that no one was in the shop and the door behind the counter was still wide open. I called out to the owner several times, but no one answered. I was curious and wanted to take a look inside. I thought the owner of the clock shop was just asleep, so I could wake him up and ask him to introduce me to the antique wall clocks in the shop."

"I'm still interested in this little vintage thing, and how can he fall asleep at a time when it clearly says it's open." I spread my hands, "Who knew going in I'd see that body." I saw Neil Caffrey give me a meaningful look with a smile when I mentioned that I was interested in vintage trivia.

"So why didn't you call the police the first time you saw the body?" Peter continued to enquire with a frown.

"Because I was afraid of trouble!" I made a face like I'd been caught in a mess. "Look, this is the situation now. If I'd called the police on the spot, I'd have been taken to the station for a statement. It would have ruined my holiday, I came over here for a holiday, not to find myself more things to do." Selfish and afraid of trouble, I put the best possible spin on the mentality of an unreliable young man.

"...... And I didn't intend to leave it completely alone, I just wanted to turn around and find a payphone to call the police anonymously." I said innocently, "Who knew you guys would come in as soon as I turned around, I was afraid you'd see the body too and still see me as a suspect that's why I wanted to get out of there."

Peter was silent for a moment and then suddenly said, "Show me your papers." Sure enough, he was waiting right here!

I bowed my head helplessly, pulled the fake ID I had just gotten out of my bag and handed it over. Peter took it in his hand and flipped through it for a moment before handing it over to Neil, who was standing next to him. Apparently, he too wanted the real master imitator to authenticate the authenticity.

"Speaking of which, I really like that old wall clock from '93 in the shop. I heard from a friend who used to patronise the shop here that there's a very special story about the hour hand stopping at 11.03." I said casually as I looked at the wall clocks in the shop, looking very relaxed.

An old wall clock from '93 with the time stopping at 11.03. This was the shopkeeper's unified code word for picking up the goods, and when I heard Neil call out this shopkeeper's Taoist name, Lao Weng, just now, and the sad expression on the face of the short, fat man who had followed him out without saying a word until now, I knew that they must be acquainted with the shopkeeper.

I knew that they must be familiar with the owner of the shop, and that they would not make things difficult for the owner's customers.

Sure enough, Neil gave me a traceless glance after hearing my remark, and once again a hint of interest flashed under his eyes, but after taking the document in his hand and looking it up and down, he said, "It's true, and he doesn't look like a guest of the old man."

My remark elicited a reaction from Neil aside, the short, fat man standing behind him also turned his head to look at me.

Eventually I was picked up high and put down gently by Peter, they were clearly tracking a criminal gang and my suspicions were cleared by Neil confirming that he had seen me at East End University. I really did look like a student visiting San Francisco from New York.

Neil left me his mobile number and said he would take me out to dinner after the case was finished. Peter gave me a look as he gave out that mobile number.

I guess Neil had left his mobile phone number that was bugged by the FBI. This was obviously done to reassure Peter. I accepted it with a smile, naturally knowing what he wanted to talk to me about.