Neal's heart stopped. "Then why let me in?"
"Victor Harlow," Neal read. "He collects art. Badly. He bought a 'lost' Caravaggio last year for twelve million. It was a fake—my fake, actually. He never noticed." CRIMES.DO.COLARINHO.BRANCO.1--TEMPORADA.DUBLADO
"For now," Neal said, walking toward the exit. "But I'll see you next week. Harlow wasn't the big fish. He was just the bait." Neal's heart stopped