I was inspired to write this story after first seeing the promotional photograph of the fourth series of Castle. The first chapter has been sitting on my computer for a couple of months now waiting to be let loose on the world. The story is set about a year or two after the end of World War Two. I hope you like it.

Castle & Associates

Chapter 1

The Japs had beaten off the last attack less than half an hour ago. In the aftermath of that attack there was no time for Gunnery Sergeant Derrick Storm to rest no matter how much his tired body screamed for it. For him there was work to do, for him there were orders to carry out. At the moment he was hunkered down behind the protection of a fallen tree looking back to the other marines pressed against the side of the hill they had been crawling up. They were all looking to him.

All around them the noise of battle continued, the whine of incoming shells and then moments later the inevitable explosions, the rapid chatter of machine guns mixed with the crack and fizz of bullets flying all over the place. Above in the air dark blue Marine Corps Corsairs dipped down on strafing runs before soaring skywards to relative safety. There were the screams of wounded men and the more urgent screams for corps-men. It was the familiar dance of battle. One that Gunny Storm knew all too well.

Gunny Sergeant Storm pushed his battered tin helmet up higher on his head and surveyed the men of his squad. They all seemed so young but battle had hardened them and had aged them beyond their years. He had lost four men from the squad in the last attack, two dead and two wounded. The wounded men had been badly shot up and would probably not survive the trip to the battalion aid post. There was no time to mourn the losses. There was never time to mourn for lost men in the thick of battle. He was down to eight men and there was little chance of getting replacements for the casualties sent up. He knew that and so did his marines.

Some one had said that taking Okinawa would not take long, that the Japs were on the run. Who ever said that wasn't a true Marine, had never faced the Japs. Had never fought them from one end of the Pacific to the other. Gunny Sergeant Storm knew how hard the Japs fought. He had been fighting them ever since his boots had landed on Guadalcanal in what seemed a lifetime ago. They were fanatical when it came to defending their ground, it didn't matter if it was some godforsaken coral island or a part of their home island chain. The bastards just kept on coming preferring to die rather than surrender, even the civilians defended their land with a fanaticism that had shocked the marines. That was something that Storm had never had encountered before. The civilians as well as those in uniform fought to the death.

His orders were to reach the summit of the hill and take out the cave where the Japs had holed up and had a commanding view of the surrounding area and were spraying machine gun and mortar fire on attacking marines. It was not a major blockage but it was significant enough to hamper the Marines from pushing onwards. Storm's orders had come directly from regiment's CO. Take the hill.

Simple as that. Short and sweet. Take the hill. Storm would have liked some air support but he knew that he would not get it. The flying leathernecks had other targets to take care of, other Marines were in dire need of close air support. No,it was just him and his men who had to take care of the job.

Storm looked at his men for a couple of minutes then motioned to Axelman who was nearest him. He watched as the man crawled up to him.

"Have Miller and Rayburn come up here with their rifle grenades. I want three men to take the right and three men on the left. We move when the first grenade goes off, understood?"

"Got it Gunny." Axelman replied in his Mid Western twang.

Storm reached for his water canteen and took a big sip of the warm metallic water. He would have liked to have poured some of the water over his head to cool himself down but he did not. He stopped the canteen and returned it to his belt. He checked the ammunition clip of his Tommy gun and found that there were only a couple of bullets remaining. He shoved the near empty clip into a pocket and put in a fresh clip. He cocked the Tommy gun.

Miller and Rayburn reached him.

"I want you two to put your grenades as close to the cave entrance as possible, can you do that?"

"Sure thing, Gunny." Rayburn drawled. Miller grinned as he nodded his head.

"Good boys." Storm said. "Put in as many as you can."

Storm looked to the other men and held up his hand indicating that they would launch the attack in five minutes. He was pleased to see all the men checking their weapons. All but Axelman were replacements since they had landed on Okinawa. The fighting had been savage with the Jap defenders suicidally fanatical in trying to push back the invading Marines. Storm did not need to read the casualty figures to know what a toll it had taken on the liberators. He merely had to look at the men he commanded to know how many he had lost and how many he would lose before the island was in their hands.

Within minutes they were all ready to go.

Storm checked his watch. He could feel his heart start to beat rapidly like it always did before the start of any attack. This was the way it was ever since he had landed on Guadalcanal. He took a deep calming breath and looked to Miller and Rayburn. Slowly he rose from his crouch and brought up his Tommy gun resting it on the tree trunk.

"Let's give these bastards a true 1st Marines greeting." He called out.

Miller and Rayburn rose up and pointed their rifle grenades in the direction of the summit and fired simultaneously. They ducked down as a hail of machine gun fire erupted from above. Moments later two explosions came.

"Let's go!" Storm shouted as he started firing his Tommy gun...

Castle paused in his typing and pulled out the sheet of paper from the typewriter. He started reading what he had just written. He had read only the first paragraph when he lowered the sheet and his mind drifted back to that time on Okinawa. In his mind he pictured once again what really happened as the attack was launched. Absently his hand rubbed his left thigh where a piece of shrapnel had hit him.

"Castle."

Castle continued to stare into the distance and did not hear his name being called. He was lost in that battle.

"Hey, Writer Boy!"

Castle jerked his head around and found Lanie Parish standing by the door. The petite dark skinned woman had her arms folded across her chest and did not look all that impressed with his day dreaming.

"We have a customer."

"They are called, clients Lanie, not customers." Castle corrected her. He set the page beside the typewriter. He would re read the page later, make whatever corrections were needed and then have Lanie type it up again.

"Whatever they're called, there's one waiting to see you now." Lanie nodded in the direction of the outer office.

Castle let out a sigh. At the moment he did not need a new client. What he needed was to finish the book he was writing. His publisher was screaming for it and had been on his back almost on a daily basis. The book needed to be finished and soon. All ready he was several weeks behind and he still had another four or five chapters to go.

What he had not told his publisher or anyone else for that matter was that he had grown tired writing about the exploits of Sergeant Derrick Storm. Despite the enormous success of the first five Sergeant Storm USMC books Castle hated having to relive those battles on the islands in the South Pacific, it pained him to see the parade of faces of all those comrades who had fallen on some godforsaken coral island or some hellish jungle. He hated to remember the images of the bodies of dead marines stacked like cordwood on the beaches. He hated the nightmares that came whenever he wrote these books.

He had written the first Sergeant Storm book when he and his comrades of the 1st Marines were sent to Melbourne Australia to rest and refit after Guadalcanal. He had picked up the pen one day when he had nothing better to do. The story came so quickly and easily, the scenes of battle still vivid in his mind. It was part therapy and part documentary and part an outlet of the numerous ideas that had been swimming around in his head. He sent off the manuscript to his mother who passed it on to his publishers. The book was an instant hit, and more was demanded.

It was only during the third book that he came to realise that writing these books took more out of him than he was willing to admit. He longed to go back to writing crime fiction novels like he used to do before the war.

"Castle, are you with us?" Lanie demanded.

Castle looked over to Lanie and gave her a small smile.

He pushed away from the small writing table where he had been typing the next chapter of his latest Sergeant Derrick Storm novel. He rose from the chair and took his jacket from the stand behind his desk and put it on but left it unbuttoned and then sat down behind his desk. He gave Lanie a nod to send in the new client.

Lanie turned and left only to return a moment later with the new client.

"Mr Martin Armstrong." She announced.

Castle could not help but notice that Armstrong barely acknowledged Lanie as he entered the office. He rose from behind his desk putting on a smile of greeting that he reserved for a prospective client and held out his hand. He was greeted with a limp handshake. Castle motioned Armstrong to the empty chair before sitting down.

Armstrong remained standing as he took in the office he had just walked into and from the look on his face what he had found did not come up to his expectations. He tried not to sneer at what he saw.

The office was spartan with a few framed photographs adorning one wall. Two were group photographs of Castle's marine unit. One taken on the first day he had joined the 1st Marines and the other was taken day before the the regiment was sent into Okinawa. A careful study of the two photographs would reveal that not too many of the people in the first photograph were there in the second. A silent testament to the cost of the war. There was also a framed picture of the logo of the 1st Marine Regiment with the regimental motto underneath. Beside the regimental logo were a row of combat ribbons and decorations that had been mounted and framed. A four drawer wooden filing cabinet stood in the corner. On the other side of the office in the corner was another four drawer wooden filing cabinet. Beside that filing cabinet was a low cabinet with a fan sitting atop it which was switched on and providing a small cooling breeze. On the wall above the fan was another framed photograph showing Marines raising the Stars and Stripes on Iwo Jima. In the space between the two windows behind Castle's desk were two posters of the old Broadway shows, Pal Joey and By Jupiter. The floor of the office was bare of carpet and the wooden floorboards were in need of sanding and a polishing.

Armstrong was of average height and build with black hair that had been slicked back with pomade, his slightly rounded face had that look of having been recently barbered. He was dressed in a dark blue hand tailored suit that spoke of money. The shirt was pale blue and silk and just like the suit was hand tailored. A navy blue silk tie completed the ensemble. His shoes were polished to a mirror finish. Above the pocket of the jacket where a silk handkerchief sprouted he sported two campaign ribbons, the American Campaign medal and the European Campaign medal. To Castle those ribbons looked out of place on a business suit but it told him that the man had served in some re echelon posting and wanted the world to know that he had done his bit during the war. No doubt he had held some officer's rank. He pegged him as some junior officer.

Armstrong focused his attention to the pictures on the wall and in particular to the campaign and combat decorations. A look of envy flickered across his face. After some moments he finally sat down and removed his hat placing it in his lap.

"What can I do for you, Mr Armstrong?" Castle inquired with a smile.

Armstrong glanced in the direction of the combat decorations.

"You were in the Marines?" Armstrong asked.

Castle nodded his head. "1st Marines." He supplied.

"See much action?"

"A bit." Castle said, shrugging his shoulders. "Guadalcanal, Cape Gloucester, Peleliu, Okinawa."

A look of wide eyed surprise appeared on Armstrong's face.

"Got yourself a few ribbons there."

Castle nodded his head.

Armstrong pointed to the Iwo Jima photograph.

"Were you on Iwo Jima?"

"I missed that particular party."

"Oh, why's that?"

"Recovering from combat wounds."

"Oh, I see."

Suddenly Armstrong's face lit up.

"Are you Castle the writer of the Sergeant Storm books?"

"One and the same." Castle smiled.

"Hey, I love those books." Armstrong said excitedly. "They're great, the combat scenes are so realistic."

Castle was used to meeting people who were excited in telling him how much they loved his books and ask him questions. Most of the questions came from people who had never been near a battlefield and wanted to know what it was really like. Castle had stock standard replies to those questions. They were benign answers which skirted over the real gory details. They did not need to know how bad it could get but his books did give some glimpse into what it was like. Combat veterans had no need to ask such questions they had been there and done that in all its graphic horror. Most of the time Castle was happy to meet a fan and even take the time to answer any questions they may have. Today was not one of those days. The smile on his face did not reach his eyes. He decided to change the subject.

"So Mr Armstrong, what can I do for you?"

The sharpness of Castle's tone had Armstrong looking directly at the private investigator. His face hardened a little as he fixed Castle with a hard look.

"I need the use of your services, Mr Castle." Armstrong said crisply.

"What exactly is the nature of your need, Mr Armstrong?"

Armstrong's confident outlook faltered a little. He looked over his shoulder to the door which had been closed by Lanie as she had left and then looked back to Castle.

"I don't know how to say this, Mr Castle." Armstrong said. "It is embarrassing."

Castle leaned back in his chair and affected a look of world weariness.

"I can assure you Mr Armstrong, there is nothing you can tell me that I have not heard before."

Armstrong cast his eyes to his hat sitting in his lap both of his hands gripped the brim tightly. Castle watched and waited. After some moments of awkward silence Armstrong lifted his gaze to the private investigator.

"I think my wife is having an affair."

Castle's suspicions had been confirmed. He almost nodded his head but remained motionless watching the man sitting in the chair opposite. In the short time he had opened the detective agency there had been a parade of men walk in to his office who believed that their spouses were having affairs and wanting him to get the evidence. He had taken up the cases only to find out of all of the cases he'd investigated there were only less than a handful of occasions where the spouses were indeed conducting affairs.

It was a fact of life that the war had changed a lot of things. With the menfolk fighting in Europe or the Pacific the women who had remained at home had taken up important war work. They flocked to the factories to help produce the war materiel for the fighting men, everything from bullets, artillery shells right up to fighters and bombers to aircraft carriers and everything else in between. For many of these women this new found freedom was a liberating experience. When the war ended and the men came home countless thousands of women were more than happy to return to the life they had known before the war. There were others who found they liked the freedom they had discovered and did not want to return to what they had before the war. Many of the men folk could not understand it. Many of the men folk did not like it. Many men thought that their spouses were having affairs.

"How do you know she's having an affair?" Castle asked.

"I just know!" Armstrong shouted.

"Okay." Castle said in an even tone.

For the next few minutes Castle asked questions that provided him with information on Armstrong's wife, Susanna. It was a very familiar story, one that Castle had heard countless times before. Theirs had been a wartime marriage. Armstrong had met Susanna at some party in early 1943 just after he had graduated from Officer Candidate School and was awaiting his first posting. Susanna Armstrong had been a part time model and actress who had attended the party with a girlfriend. They had fallen in love and less than a month later had gotten married. Armstrong's family disapproved of the marriage but the uncertainty of wartime was enough for Martin Armstrong to ignore his family's wishes. Not long after they got married Armstrong was posted to Washington and then later on to SHEAF head quarters in London where his expertise in shipping was put to good use for the coming invasion of Europe. Armstrong's family owned a shipping line.

"So will you take the case?" Armstrong asked after he had finished briefing the private investigator.

Castle glanced in the direction of his old Remington typewriter. His latest book needed to be finished and taking up a new case would delay him completing the book. He was catching all kinds of hell from his publisher and any more delays would mean more of that.

"I don't care how much it costs, Mr Castle." Armstrong added. "Money is no object do you understand?"

"I think I get the picture." Castle replied.

"I just want you to get the proof."

Castle nodded his head.

"You will take the case?" Armstrong asked hopefully.

Castle glanced briefly in the direction of the typewriter. The book would have to wait he decided. He rose to his feet and came around his desk. Armstrong rose form his seat.

"I will take the case." Castle informed him.

Before leaving the office Armstrong passed over to Castle a small photograph of his wife. After showing Armstrong out Castle returned to his desk and sat down. He studied the photograph of Mrs Susanna Armstrong. He glanced up to see Lanie filling the doorway.

"You took the case?"

"Yeah."

"Gina aint gonna be pleased about that, Writer Boy."

At the mention of his ex-wife and publisher Castle gave Lanie one of his boyish grins.

"I survived nearly four years fighting the Japs, how bad could she be?"

"You're the one that married and then divorced her, you tell me?" Lanie retorted.

"I think I would prefer to face a Jap Banzai attack." Castle said soberly.

"Uh-huh." Lanie raised an admonishing eyebrow in his direction before she moved off.

XXXXX

Well dear reader what do you think of this chapter? I truly would love to know what you think.

Con