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After he dropped Angel at the hotel, Al looped back towards the police station. He knew Noah would want to look over Berman's case case against him one more time before he left, and he should arrive just in time to pick him up. But unlike Angel, Noah wasn't surprised that Al was taking such a risk. Al didn't even have to ask Noah's opinion. Once Noah recognized him, he immediately laid out the facts.
"His case looks good, Al. Your M.O., your area of expertise, your style. Add on that you were in the right place at the right time for all of them, and a fingerprint at the scene, it looks airtight."
"I know that tone, Noah. What aren't you saying?"
Noah shot him a shrewd look in the rearview mirror, "It's too perfect Al. It's too neat. You're too good to pull off jobs back-to-back like that, close enough in time and place for people to be able to point to you. And I'm not too sure about that fingerprint, either."
"Oh?"
"Berman said it himself, the first time he showed it to me, it's almost identical to the one in your file. You don't get a print like that at a scene, not unless you're dealing with an amateur. Besides, you introduced me to your gloves, remember?"
"Oh, yeah." Al couldn't suppress the smirk at his memory of introducing Noah to the leather gloves he wore during jobs. He'd never worn the thin, supple leather gloves in the bedroom before, but after that time with Noah they'd both apparently developed a bit of a taste for it, from both sides. "I still have to find the real thief and prove it without a shadow of a doubt. I've got a hunch, but I won't know until later if I'm right or not."
Under the cover of reaching forward to pay, Noah squeezed his shoulder, all the physical reassurance he could give at the moment. "Just be careful, Al. Berman wants to end his career on a high note, so he'll need real proof to admit he's wrong."