I
"Is it just me, or does it smell like something the cat drug in?" Castle asked, stepping around a pile of trash as he weaved between the mounds of similar materials that surrounded them. "It's a landfill. What do you expect? Roses?" Beckett countered. Just ahead, he could see the tape which marked off the crime scene they had come to investigate and the usual crowd of officers who were busily poring over the refuse for any clues. "I'm just saying that our killer could have been a little more considerate about his choice of venues. Death in a flower shop, for instance. It has ambience, plenty of sharp objects and all sorts of leads we could follow. Out here? We'd have more luck finding a needle in a haystack," he replied. "Lanie? What've we got?" Kate asked as they gazed down at the remains. Castle could tell that it had been there for a while and listened as the medical examiner answered, "Victim is a white female, about twenty years old. There's no ID on the body. She was found at 8:15 this morning by Mister Velasquez over there when she tumbled out of this debris as he was moving it with his forklift."
"I'm guessing that he doesn't know her," Richard observed. "Score one for Castle. I put the time of death as less than a day ago, although given the decomposition caused by the environment I won't be able to be more accurate until I get her down to the lab," Lanie noted. "Alright, let's see who had access to this area," Beckett stated, turning towards Velasquez who was being interviewed by Ryan and Esposito. "You're not serious, right? It's a landfill. There aren't any security cameras out here, or armed guards. I'm surprised they have equipment which was made in this century," he remarked. "Focus on the case, Castle," Kate snapped as they reached the trio. "Julio Velasquez, this is Detective Kate Beckett," Esposito proclaimed. "Who has access to this area?" she wondered. "We have twenty-seven employees who work this area. We all have keys to the site and the machinery," the worker declared. "Have you ever seen the victim before today?" Castle asked. "No, señor," the witness told them. "Did you notice anything unusual this morning?" the Detective inquired.
"I got up this morning, caught the subway to work like usual and went to the garage to start my shift. The forklift was low on fuel so I went to get some more," Velasquez informed them. "Does that happen a lot?" he asked. "Every now and then. These machines, they run all day long and into the night. I must have to get more at least twice a day," Julio responded. "What about anyone unusual in the area? The killer could have been trying to get a feel for your security measures recently," Beckett suggested. "I do not know. The station is only a few blocks from here and once I am at work, I pay attention to nothing else until the end of the day," the worker told them. "I don't suppose there's any way to tell where that trash came from," Richard put in. "Oh yes, that I can tell you!" Velasquez exclaimed. "You can?" Kate countered. "Si! That section, it is used by Roquefort Construction. Their trucks come in all week long and dump there," Julio explained. Castle glanced at Beckett, knowing that the company would be their next line of investigation.
"Roquefort Construction, owned by one James Winthrop; aged thirty. He's got priors for assault, fraud and illegal dumping. There are at least a dozen complaints filed with city hall over the past year, citing everything from drunk and disorderly conduct by his workers to damage to this property he was working on. We've got uniforms bringing him in now," Ryan reported, laying the folder on the desk and revealing the face of a rather disreputable black man with an old scar above his left eye. "Sounds like a stand-up citizen. I'm surprised he hasn't been given the key to the city," Castle observed. "Are you still sore about being passed up for your part in stopping those terrorists?" Beckett wondered. "No. Yes. Well, maybe not so much. I mean, you think they could have at least given me credit," he remarked. "Beckett. Winthrop is here," Esposito reported and Richard rose from his chair and followed Kate into the interview room.
"James, I'm Detective Kate Beckett. We were hoping that you could help us identify a woman who was found with the debris your company leaves at the landfill," she proclaimed, taking a seat and passing the photos to him. "Yeah, I know her. That's one of the realtors who provides me with business. Her name's Marsha Simmons," Winthrop answered. "What sort of business did she give you?" he wondered. "There'd been a lot on the market, where something would need to be torn down. We'd go in and get the job done fast, so she could get top dollar from her clients. Who did this to her?" James inquired. "That's what we're trying to find out. What was the name of her company? How can we get in touch with them?" the Detective inquired.
"This is the place?" Castle wondered, admiring the sharp décor of the office they were perusing. "I called them an hour ago. They've definitely got a Marsha Simmons on the payroll," Beckett told him. "Seems rather pricey. That is, for a lady dressed like our victim. She didn't strike me as the up-and-coming type from her outfit. More of the barely scraping by sort, if you know what I mean," he observed. Ahead, the smiling receptionist waited and stated, "Welcome to Twining Realty. How can I help you today?" "We're here to see Rachel Pulaski. Detective Beckett, NYPD," Kate replied, showing her badge. "Yes, we've been expecting you. Go right in," the woman stated, gesturing to the door to her left. "This place reminds me of whenever I bought my apartment. I still say they got the better end of the deal," Richard commented as they went thru the doors and entered the waiting room.
"Well, hopefully her employers will be able to give us something more to go on. So far all we've got is a name and since it wasn't in our database; we have nothing to go on but dead ends," Beckett said. "Well at least one thing hasn't changed," he noted, pointing to the table, "I don't see a single magazine that was printed in the last decade." Then the doors opened and a woman walked in and said, "I'm Rachel Pulaski. I understand you're here to talk about Marsha?" "Excuse me, but you two are related; aren't you?' Castle put in. Rachel sighed and removed the glasses she'd been wearing until then as she responded, "Most people don't notice right away. We're twins."
"Twining Realty. I'm guessing you were partners. How come you're in the office and she's just getting by?" Castle asked. "Marsha thought that money would change her somehow. Her life had never been easy. Not since she was given up for adoption," Rachel stated. "When did the two of you meet?" Kate wondered. "About three years ago. I'd already made my name as a realtor and she showed up out the blue, looking for any relatives. Our parents had never told me about her. The only way she knew was by getting a court order for her adoption papers. I insisted that she go to work for me, but Marsha was stubborn. She thought being rich had made me conceited and didn't want the same thing to happen to her. That's why my sister was so poor. She refused my help," Pulaski proclaimed. "Do you have any idea how her body might have ended up in the debris dumped at the landfill by Roquefort Construction?" he inquired. "I can't think of anything. I'm sorry," the realtor asserted.
"We're going to need her personal information. Where she lived, who she dealt with on and off the job. Anything could be significant," Beckett maintained. "Of course. I'll cooperate in every way," Rachel told them, rising and moving into the other room. "You know, with the preponderance of identical twins in the world; I'm surprised that we haven't run into more of them," Castle pointed out. "That's all you've got? Normally you'd have run off half a dozen wild theories by now," she remarked. "Well, let's see. Maybe Rachel and Marsha aren't twins. Perhaps Marsha was from an alternate universe and was traveling from one reality to the next in order to recruit her doppelgangers for a war against cosmic forces bent on destroying reality as we know it," Richard suggested. "Where do you get these ideas?" Kate inquired. "Hey, it worked for the Fantastic Four," he countered.
"Let's just focus on the facts. When Doctor Doom shows up, then I might consider your idea," she retorted. Rachel came back in holding a file and passed it over to them saying, "This is all we have on my sister, Detective." "When was the last time you spoke with her?" Beckett wondered. "Actually, she left a message on my machine the day before yesterday. I kept a copy because it sounded like she was in trouble, but I couldn't get her to answer any of my calls afterward. When I told the police, they said they would need more information before anything could be done," Pulaski declared, clearly fighting back tears. "We're going to need that recording. Also, did your sister keep any records at home? A notebook or computer?" Kate asked. "I'm not sure. But if they were there, she probably removed them," the realtor reported. "Why is that?" Castle shot back. "She'd just moved out and it was scheduled for demolition the other day. With the speed her contacts have, they have probably already finished the job," Rachel told them. "Marsha's body was found with construction debris. Maybe her killer left her remains in the house, knowing it was about to be torn apart and hoped that the evidence would either be buried or lost as a result," Richard suggested. "I guess there's only one way we'll find out which. Head over there and take a look," Beckett decided. "Just for the record, if this breaks the case; let Captain Gates know it was my idea," he requested.
"You know I don't even Dorothy took this much of her house with her on her trip to Oz," Castle commented, looking about at the slab where Marsha Simmons' house had been. "Yeah, well; it wasn't a bad idea. But any proof that Marsha was here before she died was probably eliminated," Beckett replied. "Sure you don't want to call in CSU and have them do a sweep of the place?" he wondered. "Until we have a crime scene, there's nothing for them to investigate. I doubt the Captain would want to waste our time chasing down blind alleys," she responded. "Still, you have to admit it does make sense. Whoever killed our victim was almost certainly someone close to her. We don't even know whether she had a man in her life yet," Richard pointed out.
"Well, I don't see any blood. And signs of a struggle would have been erased along with the body," Kate observed. "So I guess all that's left to do is track down the people who did the work for her and find out when this place was razed," Castle said, turning around; then stopping in his tracks. "What is it?" his companion inquired. "These boards… they've been replaced recently. You can see that the wear patterns are different than the others. Why would someone go to that much effort for a house which won't be here for much longer?" he asked. In reply, she pulled out gloves and passed them to him. Together, they heaved at the wood; eventually pulling it out to see what was underneath. "I don't believe it," Beckett breathed once they'd succeeded. "I guess Marsha Simmons wasn't the only body buried here," Castle remarked, wondering if the remains they'd found had any connection to the death they were investigating.