A/N: Hello again, my dears! I'm back with a brand new story. This time it's a collaboration with my friend 'Purplewaters' (Tumblr). I came up with one idea and she made up all the plot. I just had to add it some drama and type it out. I've had a great time writing this first chapter and I'm sure I'm also going to enjoy those that are still to come.

This story is intended to be a 'narrated episode' of Castle, which means a full developed case and, of course, lots of Caskett-y moments. We hope you enjoy the reading! :)

DISCLAIMER: We own nothing but the words below.

Chapter 1.

The chill of the night had fallen over the city of New York, still hauling the low temperatures of the late winter. The back door of 'The Jack of Diamonds' opened to let out one of its finest customers. The man walked along the deserted alley, trying to keep himself upright using the walls on both sides of the path. He stopped a second, the buzz of the whiskey blurring his vision. When he looked up again, a dark figure was standing in front of him, he could see the low lights of the street reflecting on the glasses he or she was wearing, he couldn't tell if it was a Jane or a Joe.

"Hello?" he said. Nothing.

The strange silhouette took something out of its pocket and suddenly, everything went black. Breathing became impossible and his eyes refused to stay open.

A couple of minutes later, one of the most distinguished citizens of the Big Apple died in a dark alley with three gunshots to his chest, falling over the trash bags piled beside the back door of a club.

The night was being busy at 'The Jack of Diamonds', a club where people with too much money spent their engorged salaries on poker games and other bets. Most of those people had a name in the community and the privacy policy of the club was ferrous. Some of the clients had their own 'security forces' in the shape of brainless, almost ever drunk thugs.

Two of the goons got a little too carried away that night with a meaningless dispute, letting their guns show and taking the party to the back alley.

"You're dead, you fucking bag of shit!" one of them yelled with an alcohol-drowned voice.

Goon number two walked closer to his offender, taking his gun out of its holster and pointing it towards him. "Yeah? I'd say it's you who's dead, you asshole!" he said, pulling the trigger twice.

Despite the fact that he was less than seven feet away from his target, he failed the shots, hitting the wall of the other side of the alley.

Due to the shock, the guy who was the target of the shots tumbled backwards, falling over a mound of trash bags. When he tried to stand up again, his hand found someone's cold fingers tangled with his own. He let out a yelp, finding himself in the standing position far much faster than his buzzed brain felt comfortable with. He and his attacker looked at the lifeless body lying there between the rubbish bags and wastes; they shared a frightened look and ran out of there before anyone could see them.

It was 4:30 am when Detective Beckett's phone came to life, driving a low groan out of her mouth. She had been rolling back and forth all the time since she had gotten into bed almost four hours ago, praying to the gods for a body-less night. No such luck. Her stupid body was exhausted, it had let her know of it during the day, making her grumpy and slow, but when she gave up and let it rest, it took revenge on her, making the night a long and maddening torture.

She picked up the insulting device and put it to her ear. "Beckett." She let out with a throaty voice. "Mhm… Yeah, ok… I got it… I'll call him, yeah. See you in half an hour."

She ended the call before pressing the speed dial to her partner's phone. She knew he wasn't going to be happy having to leave his warm bed at this hour, but she didn't care. If she had to get up, he sure as hell had to get up too.

"These people don't have any kind of respect for our sleeping cycles." He grunted as he picked up his phone.

She couldn't stop the smile that curled her lips. "Yeah, you're right. Psychos should learn that it's much better killing people in daylight." She retorted.

The writer let out a chuckle. "I'll be downstairs in ten, coffee in hand." He said.

"All right. Make mine a double." She told him before hanging up.

Fifteen minutes later detective and writer were on the Crown Vic riding their way to the crime scene.

Lanie Parish was hovering over the body, wrinkling her nose due to the smell of the trash bags the man was lying on. She was fine with the smell of rotten skin and decomposing bodies, but the smell of common rubbish made her nauseous. Talk about irony.

The ME was leaning in to take a look at the bullet wounds when a voice startled her. "Hi, Lanie. What do we have?" Kate asked.

"Jesus, Beckett! You want me to join Mr. Still here? You almost killed me, girl!" The doctor snapped at her friend.

Kate lifted and eyebrow and looked at Lanie quizzically. "A little prickly today, aren't we? You ok?" She asked, concern dying the detective's words.

"Yes, fine. Sorry about that." The ME said, waving her hand in the air as if trying to erase the last two minutes. She turned to look at the body again. "White male in his fifties, around six feet tall. Three gunshots to the chest." She said, pointing to the three entrance wounds on the man's torso with her pen. "I guess you don't need me to ID him for you?"

Beckett walked closer to the dead man to take a look at his face. "Ronald Lazzaro. What was a man like him doing here?"

"Probably losing his copper to another Richie Rich. This is a well known place among the New York's finest." Castle informed them.

Beckett looked at him with a smirk. "Oh, really? And how do you know about it?"

The writer gave her a glare through narrowed eyes. "Funny!" He said, and turned to Lanie. "Can you tell us the TOD?" Castle asked.

"Well, he's not too cold so I take it that he's been dead for no more than 6 hours. I'll tell you something more accurate later. But there's something weird. I think the scene has been compromised. The body was somehow pressed against the bags, like something had fallen over it, and the blood is smeared all over him." Lanie told them.

Castle's face contorted into a grimace. "That is weird." He said.

Beckett nodded. "Yeah. It's not like the killer would take the time to do that, but who knows…" She shrugged and said goodbye to Lanie. "Ok, let's talk to the boys, see what they know."

Castle and Beckett walked inside the club where Ryan and Esposito were talking with the customers and staff. The place was big, a long bar on one side and several poker tables sprinkled in the diaphanous room. There also was a huge TV screen hanging from the wall with some tables around it.

There were not many people left in there. Beckett's guess was a general stampede when they heard the sirens getting closer. She walked towards Ryan, who was talking to a tall guy with glasses and dyed white hair.

"Hey!" She said, making the young detective excuse himself from the man to talk to her.

"Hey! I don't have much." Ryan said reviewing what he had written on his notepad. "Lazzaro was a regular. He came twice or thrice a week, drank some whiskey and played poker. Mr. Hill there, saw the vic. walking out the back door around 1:00 am. He never came back."

Beckett nodded. "There was nothing that could make him think anything was wrong?"

"No." Said Ryan shaking his head. "He says that Lazzaro drank a little more than usual last night, but he seemed to be fine when he left."

"Ok, I'm going to talk to Espo-…" She was cut mid sentence by the view of Castle taking down a big frame off the wall. "Castle, what the hell are you doing?" She asked, walking towards him.

When Kate got near him, a disappointed Rick greeted her. "Nothing. I had heard that there was a secret safe hidden behind a painting in this club. They say the first owner, Lazlo Trovatelli, hid his fortune there."

"Seriously?" She couldn't fight the skepticism that showed in her voice. "Secret safes and hidden treasures, Castle? Again? Don't you ever learn?" She asked rising her eyebrow.

He gave her a shy smile. "Yeah, you're right."

While Castle put the frame back on it's place, Beckett left to talk to Esposito.

"Hey, Espo. What do you have?" The detective asked.

Esposito walked closer to her. "Well, a uniform's told me that they were called because someone heard gunshots around 3:30 this morning. The witness swears there were just two blows but our victim has three bullet wounds on his chest." He paused to take a look at Beckett before he went on. "I talked to one of the bar-men. He says he saw a couple of guys fighting around that time. They took it out of the club after the manager told them to get the hell out. Maybe things got tricky and Lazzaro was caught in the middle?" He asked.

Beckett pursed her lips and shook her head. "No. Ryan says Lazzaro left the club at one."

Ryan interrupted them. "Ok, I know where Lazzaro was before he came here. There was a private party at the Waldorf last night. The host was Daniel Taylor, the 'boss' of Wall Street."

"A great occasion for the King to be surrounded by the rest of the nobility." Castle added.

Beckett rolled her eyes at him before she spoke. "Ok, you and Espo go back to the precinct and start tracking down those guys the barman told you about. Castle and I will go have a word with the 'King'." She told the boys, putting on a funny face.

They had to wait for a while until Taylor's maid opened the door to them. It was barely six in the morning and the woman looked like she had been dragged out of her sweetest dream.

"Good morning." She said. "May I help you?"

Beckett showed the woman her badge and introduced themselves. "Hi. I'm detective Kate Beckett and this is my partner, Rick Castle. We need to talk to Mister Taylor."

The woman shook her head furiously. "No! Mr. Taylor is in bed. I can't disturb him now."

"Look ma'am. I understand you don't want to disturb your boss, but a man is dead and we need to ask him some questions. Could you please tell him we're here?" Kate was starting to get pissed.

The maid turned around, leaving the door open for them to come inside. She disappeared through a corridor and left them there.

It took Daniel Taylor over thirty minutes to grace them with his presence. The Wall Street tycoon appeared through a mahogany door, wearing an expensive robe and looking perfectly wakeful, given the hour it was.

"Morning, detectives." Taylor said with a rasp tone. "I've been told you needed to talk to me. I take it that this couldn't wait until a more reasonable hour?"

Beckett moved closer to him. "I'm sorry about the inconvenience, sir. We're here to ask you some questions about Ronald Lazzaro. We've been told he attended your party last night."

"Lazzaro? Yes, he was there. Why? Is he in any kind of trouble?" The man asked, more worried about his own reputation than about what could be going on with his 'friend'.

Castle looked at Taylor through narrowed eyes. "He's dead." He said.

Taylor gulped. "Dead? Ronny? Wow, that was unexpected. I always thought he would hit the papers when someone discovered his gambling problem, but this…"

Kate tilted her head to the side. "Did he tell you about any kind of problem with people of ill repute? Lenders, mobsters… Money problems?" She asked.

"No. He played poker and hit the casinos regularly but his bank account was perfectly fine. I don't think he was involved with that kind of people." Taylor explained. "You should talk to his assistant, though. I'm sure she knows better than me."

"We will." Beckett assured him. "Now, could you give us a list of the people attending your party last night? We are going to need to talk to them."

"All of them? There were over two hundred people at that party." The businessman said skeptically.

Castle smiled. "We know. We have time and we're keen to know all that they have to say."

Taylor gave him a death glare and nodded. "Ok, I'll go check in my office. I'm sure my assistant left a copy of the guest list for me there. Wait a minute, please." And he walked away leaving Castle and Beckett alone in his living room again.

Castle turned on himself looking around. "The guy's a jerk but we can't deny he's got good taste. Look at this place!" He said admiring the paintings that hung of the wall.

Beckett smiled, checking the room too. "Yeah. I've read he's a connoisseur of art. No wonder that his living room looks like a museum."

After a couple of minutes Taylor came back with a thin stack of papers in his hands. He handed it to Beckett and walked them to the door.

"Thank you, Mr. Taylor. We appreciate your cooperation." Beckett said, before walking out of the luxurious apartment.

They made their way back to the street and towards the car, walking side by side. Beckett was checking the papers while she walked and Castle had to stop her before she ran into a parking meter.

She looked up a little and blushed. "Thanks." She mumbled, and shook his hand off her shoulder. "We should head to the precinct and divide the work with the boys. It's going to take a while to interview all these people."

"Yeah, you're right. Maybe we could get something to eat on the way back? We're running on just one coffee and my stomach is starting to eat itself." Castle whined.

Beckett chuckled. "Ok, Castle, but just if you get me a bear claw and another coffee. My caffeine levels are dropping drastically. "

"That's a given, detective." He said with a grin, as they got into the car and made their way back to the 12th.

TBC.

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