Chapter Three
Old Foes and Escalations.
"You, you're my mask
You're my cover, my shelter
You, you're my mask
You're the one who's blamed
Do, do my work
Do my dirty work, scapegoat
Do, do my deeds, for you're the one who's shamed"
Metallica: "Sad, But True"
It was early in the day, especially for Richard Castle, as he arrived at the crime scene in Central Park. This was the first crime scene he had been to since his doctors had cleared him to take up pursuits more strenuous than warming a booth at "The Old Haunt". The litany of "Hey Castle!" and 'Good to see you" as he crossed the police barricade made him feel as if he really were part of the action. In spite of the fact that he was here to help investigate a murder, he really was glad to be back in action.
Lanie was kneeling next to the body, checking liver temp, lividity, and her numerous other crime scene tests, with Alexis standing just over her shoulder fully decked out in her CSU attire, dutifully taking notes on a clipboard. Though part of him still didn't like her being at crime scenes, and probably never would, he just couldn't contain how proud he was of how professionally his headstrong dutiful child was carrying herself. He couldn't resist the urge to pull out his cell phone and snap a photo of her for his digital scrapbook, to which he was met with the obligatory "Daaaaaad! I'm working here!" and a playful cuff on the back of his head from Beckett, who then pantomimed a phone and mouthed "send me a copy" Lanie merely rolled her eyes, shook her head in amusement, then went back to work, a satisfied smirk on her face.
Castle's enthusiasm waned quickly, replaced by a darkening sense of dread as he took a closer look at the body of the pretty blonde woman carefully posed on the running trail with her hands crossed in front of her chest as if for viewing in a funeral parlor, and the dark red ligature mark around her neck.
"What've we got?" He asked.
"He's back, Castle." Lanie said, "The ligature marks and the posing definitely fit the profile for 3XK, AKA Jerry Tyson, but he seems to have taken more time with this one before he strangled her." This woman suffered before she died."
"How do we know it's him," Castle reasoned, "and not some overly violent copycat?"
"Because he left this with the body" Lanie said handing him a 4x6 index card in an evidence bag she had obviously gone to some lengths not to show Alexis. Castle looked at it, and the color drained from his face, then showed it to Kate, and they shared a haunted look between them. In block letters it said:
Good morning, Detective Beckett!
Can Rick come out to play?
Jerry.
Several hours later
Back at the morgue, Lanie had completed her autopsy of the woman, now identified via dental records as Vera Robinson, age 24. She had sent Alexis out of the room, at Castle's urging, to catalog personal effects before she began to lay out her findings for Rick and Kate.
"Though the method of strangulation, the ligature marks, and the posing of the body, are consistent with the M.O. For 3XK, Lanie said, falling back coldly on the jargon of her profession to hide her obvious distress. "I have clear signs of peri-mortem scarring on her torso and nearly all of her extremities other than her face and hands. They are consistent with tool marks from at least 3 different tools, one of which I have tentatively identified to be needle nosed pliers. Electrical burns are also evident in multiple locations. This is indicative of the intentional infliction of pain. He definitely took his time with this one."
Rick and Kate shared a very dark look between them before blurting out in unison. "He's escalating."
In spite of her stomach's desire to make her re-examine her lunch, Lanie couldn't help but crack a smile at their outburst, and said, "You have no idea how much I've missed seeing the two of you do that!"
They both blushed slightly as they walked out the door and headed toward the elevator, and Lanie muttered to the dead woman on her table, while covering her body with a sheet, "I just wish for your sake, it had been under different circumstances."
As the elevator doors opened, admitting them into the 12th Precinct, Castle said, "He must have had a pretty rough ride in prison, as he seems to have picked up a few new tricks."
"Yeah," Kate replied darkly, "and he's taking out his rage on his victims. He's not killing them in their homes anymore, he's taking them somewhere, and slowly torturing them."
The thought caused her to shudder involuntarily, and Castle took her hand in his and gave it a comforting squeeze. She returned the gesture, affectionately, giving him a grateful look for the comforting gesture before slowly pulling her hand away. She was grateful for his comfort and support, and it showed all over her face.
"He's made his first kill now," she said sternly, as she looked at the murder board, "we need to get him, and soon, we know he's going to get three more before the week is out."
"Don't worry Kate," Castle said in a low whisper, "We'll get him, and we'll do it together.
His mind traveled back to the night he and Ryan had been held captive, by Jerry Tyson, and Kate had run headlong to their rescue. Familiar guilt wormed its way back into his heart.
"If only I'd figured out the truth sooner. He's still be in jail and this woman wouldn't be..."
Kate put her fingers to his lips to silence him, and said, "This isn't your fault, Rick, he had all of us fooled. Till Tyson took you and Ryan hostage, we were all certain it was his cellmate, Marcus Gates."
This time, she reached out to him, took both of his hands in hers, and continued, "We're going to track him down, catch him, and put him back in a cage where he belongs."
Impulsively, she leaned in and kissed him. It was just a quick peck on the lips, but it send a surge of electricity through them both. It took the two of them a great deal of self control to pull back from making a larger display, before the two of them picked up their coats and headed for the elevator. They both knew this might be the last good night's sleep they got for a while.
Unseen by the two of them, Ryan and Esposito had been watching them from the other side of the window the whole time. Ryan sheepishly handed his partner a folded dollar bill, after which they both grinned conspiratorially, bumped fists, then grabbed their coats and headed out. Mom and dad were back.
Elsewhere in Manhattan:
Simon David Anderson sat at his heavy mahogany desk after hanging up the phone with his inside source within city hall. Jerry Tyson's first victim since returning to the city had just been made public. Though he did not particularly like the idea of entrusting his carefully laid plans to a sociopath, his former employer had temporarily cut him off from hiring the type of professionals he preferred to employ. Once the phrase "sanction with extreme prejudice" had filtered through the mercenary grapevine, none of any decent quality would take jobs involving the NYPD or anyone associated with them.
He needed Detective Beckett silenced before her boyfriend could could manage to find anything truly damaging to him. Lockwood had managed to reach out to Tyson shortly before his incarceration and untimely demise last year. When he'd asked what had prompted this move, he simply stated in his usual matter of fact manner, "Sometimes blunt instruments can be useful."
Had he known what the fallout over her shooting would have entailed, he would have had her killed instead of simply incapacitated for nearly a year. Lockwood would probably have advised against it at all. His council would be sorely missed. It was hard to find solid, dependable people in this line of work.
The recent attempt inside the 12th Precinct squad room had been poorly conceived and even more clumsily executed. Not to mention ineffectual, as it had missed the intended target completely. It had, however, exposed a critical weakness on the part of Detective Beckett. She was emotionally dependent on Richard Castle. He was her Achilles heel. His shooting had also caused his one-time employer, "Archangel" (in the ten years he'd worked under him, he had never learned his name, only a list of pseudonyms) to show his hand. Richard Castle and his family are important to him, somehow.
He could now kill two birds with the same stone. Sidelining Castle, would not only isolate and distract Kate Beckett, but it might also throw his former boss off balance as well. Which may buy him the time he needed to consolidate his gains, and cultivate his own resources. Another one of Lockwood's odd maxims occurred to him, "When dealing with a more powerful opponent, sometimes a landmine can be more useful than a surgical strike."
He picked up the phone and dialed another number. When the other line picked up, he said imperiously, "It's a go, isolate the little redheaded girl."
He mused to himself about his previous life in Archangel's employ. He too, had come to be known by many aliases and nicknames over the years. Vulcan Simmons, for one. Though the one that has stuck with him the most, not to mention brought him the most satisfaction was "The Dragon". He leaned back in his seat, propped his feet on the desk, and thought to himself, "The game's afoot, old man."
