Chapter 4
The Case of Deep In Death
Part 4
Beckett had requisitioned a small black unmarked delivery van with surveillance equipment. At around eight o'clock in the evening we left the precinct and headed for Chinatown. Beckett was driving the van with me riding in the front seat. Esposito and Ryan were in the back with the equipment.
From the look on her face, Beckett was still not all that happy about me going in undercover. Me on the other hand, I could barely contain my excitement. This was going to be my first proper undercover operation.
During the ride Beckett kept getting me to recite exactly what I was supposed to do once I got into the place. I could have made a joke of it, especially after fifth time she asked me to go over the plan. I didn't though. I dutifully recited the plan of action. Beckett was a little on edge and the last thing either of us needed was to get into a fight.
A little over half an hour later, New York traffic being what it was, we pulled into a small side street that was decorated with red Chinese lanterns strung across the street and came to a halt opposite an entrance to an alley. Beckett killed the engine and looked in the direction of the alley. There was a truck parked half way down the alley and beyond that we could see some red lights and ornaments.
"Are you sure this is the place?" Beckett asked as she turned to look at me.
"Cannell has never steered me wrong." I assured her.
At the precinct when I was telling Beckett how I managed to obtain the location, I mentioned that I had been playing poker with my Writer Crew and that Cannell had given me the location when I asked him for it. I did not mention about the call to Cannell's guy because I did not think it was important. Need to know, that sort of thing.
Beckett frowned as she looked at me. There was concern in those hazel eyes.
"Let's get you wired up." She announced simply.
We both got into the back of the van. Esposito wired me up with a camera in the place of one my buttons on my shirt, and a microphone for another button. Ryan fired up the surveillance equipment. There was a bank of surveillance equipment along one side of the van that included video monitors and some audio and video recorders and a computer console or two.
"Okay. Button cam's in place." Esposito announced when he finished wiring me up. "Ryan?"
"Good for picture." Ryan replied, sounding a little like one of those guys down at the Johnson Space Centre in Houston. "And...sound."
"So remember." Esposito said fixing me with a look. "We can hear you, but you can't hear us. So once you leave this van, you're on your own, okay?"
I gave him a nod of my head.
"Alright, tell me the plan again." Beckett demanded.
"I go in. I find the tattooed Russian. I get a clear picture of him, and I get the hell out of there." I told her.
"And you don't stay any longer than you need to." Beckett added.
"I'll be fine." I assured with a smile as I moved to the back door of the van. "How many Russian poker players can there be?"
I opened the door and jumped out of the van. Esposito tossed me my jacket which which hit me in the face. I put it on before I crossed the street and made my way to the alley.
For some parts of the next passage of this story, I have to thank Detectives Ryan and Esposito for their help.
As I was slowly making my way through the alley towards where the gambling place was back in the van the tension amongst the three detectives grew noticeably as they watched the video monitors.
"Anybody else have a bad feeling about this?" Beckett asked.
Both Esposito and Ryan silently raised their hands.
"Yeah, that's what I thought." Beckett sighed.
I passed a number of fowl smelling dumpsters and countless plastic trash bags that littered the alley. I came to a corner and turned to find a wooden back stairway. A pair of big mean looking bouncers of Asiatic extraction were guarding the stairs. A little off to the side there was an old Chinese gentleman who was doing a good impersonation off a cook, one of the bouncers looked to the old gentleman. The old guy gave a nod of his head. Bouncer Number One gave me a quick pat down and finding nothing suspicious stepped back. Bouncer Number Two who was standing a little further up the stairs motioned me up.
I gave a nod of thanks to the bouncers and made my way up the stairs.
On entering the gambling lounge it reminded me of a number of Chinese restaurants that I had been to. It had the same kind of decorations and silk screens with red being the most dominant colour. Instead of tables for two or four, or set out for banquets, there were quite a few large round tables where quite a few people were sitting at playing poker. All races were represented at the tables. Waitresses moved around the gaming tables delivering drinks to customers or taking orders. There was a heavy smoky atmosphere. It seems the City's anti smoking laws did not apply here.
As I slowly surveyed the scene around me, I could not help but smile at what I found.
"I'm in." I whispered.
I turned to my right and saw a Caucasian male emerged from the rest room, I think. What caught my attention was that he was speaking Russian, and he sported a number of tattoos.
"Tattooed Russian." I said in a low voice. Then I spotted another tattooed Russian. "Uh, there's another tattooed Russian."
I watched the second tattooed Russian as he made his way across the room towards one of the poker tables. My eyes widened with some surprise.
"There's a whole table of tattooed Russians." I whispered. "Apparently, there are a lot more tattooed Russians in Chinatown than I thought."
So as not to stand out like a sore thumb I turned and made my way over to the bar. There was a white guy with a hat leaning against the bar. The guy in the hat had already had a few drinks under the belt and I struck up a friendly conversation. The guy in the hat was more than happy to provide information, quite a bit of information. I might have helped things along the way by buying him a drink or two.
I thanked the guy with the hat and left the bar.
"So, the Russians are regulars here." I whispered into the microphone. "But only a handful of them play at the no limit table, which is where John Allen would have gone." I slowly started making my way towards the table where the tattooed Russians were sitting.
"The guy said they're card bullies, pushing up pots, forcing their opponents to bet more just to stay in the game." I added.
In the van outside, Beckett and the boys were wearing earphones to listen in on what the microphone had been picking up. Beckett was sitting in the middle, her eyes glued to the video monitor.
"You think he has any idea he's recapping a conversation that we heard in its entirety?" Ryan remarked.
"Give the guy a gadget, he thinks he's Bond." Esposito replied.
"Let's hope he remembers he's wearing a camera before he goes and takes a leak." Ryan said.
Esposito looked across to his partner. "Why would you ever..."
"Trust me." Ryan interjected sharply.
As Esposito and Ryan were having a conversation, I spoke again, and voice came through the headphones.
"...what kind of trouble I can stir up." I whispered. "I'm going to sit at the table, see if I can find anything out."
"What did he say?" Beckett said.
"He just said he's taking a seat." Ryan informed her.
"That's not the plan. That's not the plan, Castle." Beckett shouted at the monitor.
I swift walked to the table where the tattooed Russians were sitting and planted myself down on the empty chair. I flashed a charming smile at the grim looking tattooed Russians sitting around the table.
"How's it going?" I said amiably.
"This is a no limit table." Tattooed Russian number one said.
I grinned at him as I removed my jacket.
"Which is perfect, because I'm a no limit kind of guy." I replied.
Having reached into my pocket I slapped a rather large stack of cash onto the table. I looked to the female dealer sitting on my immediate left and smiled.
"Change twenty thousand please." I said.
There was a flicker of surprise from all the tattooed Russians around the table at the amount of cash I had just placed on the table.
Back in the van Beckett was shouting at the monitor.
"No, no, no, no! What's he doing?"
"Dropping half my yearly salary like it was pocket change." Ryan remarked sourly.
I looked across to the tattooed Russian sitting on my immediate right.
"Nice tatts." I remarked as I reached for the poker chips that had been passed to me. I noticed all the Russians staring at me.
"Tats...tattoos. That...tat...it's nice. What do they say?" I stammered.
"It says mind your own business and play cards." Tattooed Russian number two replied sharply.
"Alright. Don't mean to pry." I said quickly. "I'm actually just a writer. I'm just doing a little bit of research."
"A writer, huh?" Said the tattooed Russian who was sitting directly opposite me. I later found out that his name was Sasha. Sasha looked a little like the British actor Terrance Stamp, only a little more bulkier and meaner, with far more tattoos and without the refined English accent.
"Anything, we might have heard of?" Sasha asked.
"Uh, Storm Fall, Storm's Last Stand." I said.
"Derrick Storm?" Tattooed Russian number one said, a little excitedly.
"Yeah."
"I love this guy. Why did you kill him?"
"It's a long story. But I'm working on a new one, about underground poker." I informed the tattooed Russians. "Very hush-hush, I just kind of came down here to get a feel for the world, you know."
"And you want it to be authentic." Sasha said with a small smile on his face.
"Exactly." I agreed.
"No problems."
Sasha then spoke to his cohorts in their native tongue. They all laughed. I smiled around the table. I had no idea what he had just said but it must have been something funny, so why not smile? Just to show them I'm friendly.
"Seems like he making friends." Ryan said with some amusement.
I may not have known what Sasha had said to his cohorts, and Ryan and his partner may not have known either but there was one person in the van who actually did.
"They just said that they're going to take him for everything he's got." Beckett announced.
"What, you speak Russian?" Esposito said in surprise.
Beckett looked at Esposito.
"Semester in Kiev between junior and senior year." Beckett informed him. Then she put on a fake Russian accent. "Sometimes, when I am bored, I go to Glechik Cafe in Little Odessa and pretend to be Muscovite."
"Now, that's kind of hot." Esposito said as he stared at her.
Beckett shot him with one of her glares that had Esposito turning his attention back to the monitor.
"Raise." Sasha announced as he tossed some chips into the pot in the middle of the table.
"Call." Said the tattooed Russian sitting to Sasha's right. I later learned that his name was Illya.
I began to fake stretched and I shifted my chest from one side to the other, allowing the camera to pick up all the tattooed Russians at the table.
"Check the players hands." Beckett ordered. "See if there's anything that will explain the bruise patterns on our vic's neck."
I called on this hand and tossed the appropriate chips into the pot.
"Mr Castle, tell me a little bit more about this book." Sasha asked. Actually the way it came out it sounded more like a command. I was in no position to refuse.
"Well, it's about a Russian mobster with a taste for cards." I started off. "He, uh, preys off of desperation, luring people into betting more than they have."
"And why would he do this?" Sasha questioned.
"Because he's also a loan shark. See, he fronts his victims and makes bank on the vig."
In the van Beckett frowned at the monitor.
"What the hell's he doing?" She said.
"He's playing poker." Esposito replied. "He's trying to provoke one of these guys into giving up their hand."
"Or he's trying to tip off our killer."
At the poker table I could see I had the attention of the tattooed Russians, so I continued with the story.
"But this one guy, a family guy, he gets in a little too deep." I said slowly. "He can't pay the loan back. So the mobster has no choice. Has to kill him, send a message to anyone else who owes. So one night, he lures him into an abandoned building, strangles him to death and throws him off the building."
Sasha nodded his head slowly. "Sounds like a lot of work." He said. "Why not just put bullet in his head?" He said. "More simple." Sasha made a pistol of his fingers. "Bang."
All the tattooed Russians started laughing and I joined in the laughter, even if I felt a little uneasy on the inside.
"Oh my God." Beckett muttered.
"Hey, Ryan, check this out." Esposito said pointing at the monitor, Illya in particular. "What's he doing with his finger?"
"Punch in on that." Beckett ordered.
Ryan quickly punched a couple of keys on his console and the screen zeroed in on Illya's pinky finger. It revealed that Illya was twirling it around and around.
"It's a prosthetic. That's why it didn't leave a mark on our vic. That's our guy." Beckett declared.
"Hey, if he thinks Castle a threat, he's..." Esposito said.
"We got to get him out of there now." Beckett announced.
She rose to her feet, concern creasing her face.
"Their security's pretty well armed." Esposito pointed out. "We go in there as cops, it might get messy."
Beckett started moving for the back door.
"Whoa, where are you going?" Ryan asked.
"Uh, I'm going to go in there. And if I'm not out in ten minutes, you guys call for back up." Beckett said. She turned to Esposito. "Can I have my purse please?"
Esposito passed over Beckett's purse.
"What are you going to do? Lip gloss him to death?" He asked.
"Something like that." Beckett replied as she stepped out of the van.
About five or so minutes later the boys were stunned to see Beckett doing a catwalk strut along the alley towards the back entrance of the poker lounge. You see there were a couple of cameras mounted on the outside the van. What made them speechless was not the actual catwalk strut but what she was wearing, or in this case, not wearing.
While Beckett was doing a quick change into Russian Beckett, things had gotten very interesting at the poker table.
"All in." Sasha announced as he pushed a large pile of chips into the middle of the table.
"It's a big pot, Mr Writer Man. All that money, but what is money to a millionaire, huh?" Sasha chuckled. "You can just write it off on your taxes as, uh, research."
I regarded Sasha a moment and then at the other tattooed Russians before looking back at Sasha.
"All in." I announced suddenly, then pushed all my chips to join the others in the middle.
"You are like character in your book, in too deep." Sasha chuckled, setting his cards down. "Three queens."
I nodded my head slowly as I stared at the cards Sasha had laid down on the table.
"That's very impressive." I said. "Not a lot can beat three queens."
I turned over my cards. "Except an inside straight, maybe."
None of the tattooed Russians were happy to have lost, Sasha most of all. They looked at me with stoney-faced disbelief. I did not care all that much. I was feeling rather pleased with myself at having beaten the tattooed Russians. I knew that they were trying to beat me out of my money and were ganging up on me to do so. I may not have understood Russian but I can smell a set up when I see one.
"Sweetheart this is for you." I said the dealer, giving her a large tip. "Would you change this into something smaller that I can carry?" I indicated to the pile of chips I had won. I then looked over to Sasha and grinned.
"Now that is a big pile of money. But what's money to a mobster, right?" I said.
Having collected my winnings I nodded my goodbyes to Sasha and his cohorts. I rose to my feet and started walking away. I had not gone too far when Illya suddenly rose from the table came around it and followed me. He shoved a gun into my back.
"Walk." Illya growled.
I could only obey the command and Illya pushed me into the kitchen. Unluckily for me there was no one else in here. I was trying not to panic but it was pretty touch and go.
"Who are you?" Illya demanded as he waved the gun at me.
"I told you, I'm...I'm a novelist." I told him.
"The story. The dead man, the roof. Who told you? Who knows?" There was more waving of the gun in my direction.
"His family knows. His children know."
"If he had paid what he owed, he'd be home with them now." Illya said, desperation showing on his face. "But he crossed me. And now you have crossed me."
"No, no, no, no I'm just a writer." I assured him.
"Do not lie! You are cop." Illya shouted.
"Him, a cop? Don't make me laugh. He's barely even a man."
I turned in the direction of the door way at the sound of the accented female voice. Surprise does not even begin to describe my reaction on seeing Beckett standing there. I was sure that my eyes were going to fall out of their sockets. My mouth certainly fell open. I distinctly remember her wearing stretch jeans, a dark shirt and a jacket. She was now wearing a buttoned sweater with more than a few buttons left undone to reveal a lacy red bra. The sweater struggled to cover her thighs. Where did she get that sweater? And those legs! Wow! Where has she been hiding those legs! And the way she moved...Wow!
"Beckett?" I squeaked out.
"But you are a man, aren't you?" Beckett said in that accented voice she had affected as she approached and came to stand just a little behind me, running her hands over my shoulders. "A very handsome man. Richard are you bothering this handsome man?"
I will swear on a stack of bibles or any other holy relic that you care to put in front of me, that Beckett was purring, purring in a Russian accent. My beautiful and ever inspiring and extraordinary partner in life will deny it, of course but I know what I heard. She was so hot that she was scorching. I will readily admit that at this particular moment my normal brain function such as it was had shut down at the sight of sexy Russian Beckett.
"Go away." Illya shouted, still waving the gun directly at my chest.
"Okay, boys and their guns." Beckett said, she moved away from me and a little towards Illya. "Am I supposed to be impressed?"
"It doesn't concern you." Illya told her.
"Actually...it does..."
Beckett moved swiftly she reached out and grabbed Illya's hand that held the gun and twisted it while at the same time with her free hand hit him hard in the face. In the blink of an eye Illya was face planted on the table with one arm twisted behind his back and his own gun just inches from his head.
"Is it just my imagination or did you change?" I inquired, unable to drag my eyes off her.
"Castle, could you get some back up please?" Beckett requested.
"Yeah...yeah." I stammered as I started moving out of the kitchen.
"Sssh, quiet." Beckett said to Illya. "Thank you."
I think the 'thank you' was directed to me not to Illya.
I raced out of the kitchen for the front door to get back up. Detectives Esposito and Ryan had already burst in with the cavalry, a heavily armed TAC team. They had seen via the camera what was going down with me an Illya and called in for back up. We raced back to the kitchen to find Beckett still holding Illya down. The boys quickly took over cuffing the tattooed Russian and dragging him out.
We returned to the precinct where Beckett changed back into her other clothes much to my disappointment, and the disappointment of both Esposito and Ryan. Then she and I went into the interrogation room where Illya was waiting. This tattooed Russian was a tough nut to crack but then again he had never come up against someone like Detective Beckett. It took her a couple of hours but she finally got him to talk. It certainly helped matters that we had his confession on tape. Soon after Illya was on his way to Central Booking.
XXX
The following day I arrived at the precinct in the afternoon. I had a couple of meetings in the morning so there was no great urgency to be at the precinct not unless I wanted to watch Beckett doing paperwork. When I arrived I found Beckett was not at her desk. Looking around I spotted her in the interview lounge speaking to Sandy Allen, no doubt informing her that her husband's killer had been found and charged.
I decided not to intrude on that scene. I returned to Beckett's desk and sat myself down in the chair that pretty much had become my own. I waited patiently for Beckett to finish with Mrs Allen. From where I was sitting I had a view of the interview lounge.
Half an hour later the door to the interview lounge opened and Mrs Allen emerged escorted by a uniformed officer who took her to the elevator. Beckett followed them out and she came into the bullpen. She reached her desk and sat down.
"So, how is she?" I inquired.
"It's hard when everything you thought you knew turns out to be a lie." Beckett replied.
"Well not everything was a lie." I pointed out. "Not her husband's love. I mean, sometimes we do the wrong things for the right reasons."
"So, case closed." Beckett said with a smile. "I guess your Cosmo story gets a happy ending."
"Speaking of happy endings, thanks for saving my life." I said.
"I just trying to avoid paperwork." Beckett's smile deepened a little more.
I nodded my head in understanding.
"We make a pretty good team, you know." I pointed out. "Like, Starsky and Hutch, Tango and Cash, Turner and Hooch."
Beckett leaned back in her chair a little as she narrowed her eyes at me. A small smile on her lips.
"You know, now that you mention it, you do reminded me a little of Hooch."
I made a face at her trying not to laugh.
There was one subject that we both had studiously avoided discussing through the case but now that the case was over I chose this moment to venture into dangerous waters. I could not leaves things the way they were. I wanted to resolve it.
"It's because you're afraid, isn't it?" I said gently. I saw her stiffen a little but I continued on. "You're afraid that if you look into your mother's death, that you'll go back down that rabbit hole and lose yourself again. But it's different this time."
Beckett looked at me but did not say a word. There was a glint of anger in her eyes.
"We have good leads. We have strong leads." I said. "And you won't have to do it alone. We can do it together."
For some moments Beckett remained silent just staring at me. I could see the spark of anger in her eyes had grown into a blaze.
"What if I don't want to know? Did you ever think of that? What if I'm not ready?" Beckett said glaring at me. "What if the idea of catching my mom's murderer and then having to sit there and watch as he cuts some deal that puts him back out on the street in ten years makes me nauseous?"
She paused to take a breath but continued to glare at me but as well as the fire of anger in her eyes, there was a mixture of sadness and disappointment as well. A look that I had not seen for a few months, not since that time in the hospital corridor.
"You dredged up my past for you, Castle, not for me, and you're too selfish to even see it." She accused. She hardened herself against the tears that threatened. "The case is closed, Castle. We made a deal, and I expect you to honour it."
I had no come back to all that she said. She was still angry at me. Operation Get Back Into Beckett's Good Books had failed. She was banishing me from the precinct. Yes, we had made a deal but I had been hoping that she would take me back. It turned out to be a false hope.
I was devastated. There was nothing I could say or do that would change her mind. So I would honour the agreement we had made. With great sadness I rose to my feet, gave Beckett one final look then turned and walked out of the bullpen for the last time.
I wandered the streets for a couple of hours. Where I went or what I did I have no idea, my mind is a complete blank on that score. All I kept thinking about was how Beckett had banished me and how dejected I felt.
I got home around six o'clock and went straight to my office where I powered up the laptop and started writing. I had finished the first book but I had ideas for the second book and I wanted to get it down before I forgot it. There was no guarantee that there would be another Nikki Heat book but I needed to write.
"You're writing?" Alexis said, sounding a little surprised.
"It was time." I replied without pausing in my typing.
"And Beckett?"
This time I did pause in my typing. I looked up Alexis as she approached the desk and shook my head slowly, unable to hide my disappointment.
"I'm sorry, Dad."
"So, how was the movie?" I asked, wanting to change the subject.
"We didn't go." Alexis shrugged her shoulders.
"Why not?" I asked frowning.
"Owen."
I was started to get concerned for her. "What happened?"
"He was playing video games and lost track of time." Alexis explained. "By the time he showed up, it was too late."
"Sorry sweetie."
"And then when he did show up, he tried to act like it's no big deal. Like I'm overreacting. I mean he didn't even call." Alexis sighed. She looked at me. "Why do boys do that? Why do they have to justify everything? Why can't they just say they're sorry?"
Out of mouths of babes.
The parting with Detective Beckett was raw and painful. I tried to ease the pain by losing myself in the world of Nikki Heat. It was all my fault. I had finally come to the realisation that I had overstepped and I had hurt her in a way I could not even begin to imagine. I had lost her trust. Her words still echoed in my ears when she banished me. The disappointed look on her face was burned in my memory. All because of what I had done.
It was my darling daughter who made me realise why I had done it. And it was my darling daughter who showed me what I had to do. In all of this I had not done it and I needed to do it.
I rose from my chair and came around from the desk and took Alexis into my arms and hugged her. I planted a kiss on her forehead.
"Thank you."
"For what?" Alexis asked as she looked up at me with a curious look on her face.
"For just...being you." I told her, smiling.
Once releasing her from the hug I informed Alexis that I had to step out for a little while. Alexis did not ask where I was going. Minutes later I was flying out the front door.
At this time of the night there were very few people in the bullpen, most of the people had gone home for the night. I was not surprised to find Beckett still at her desk, finishing paperwork from the case we had solved and closed more than likely.
I came to stand by her desk and for some moments she ignored my presence. She had to know that I was standing there, her paused pen was a bit of a give away. I could not blame her for that. I deserved it and probably more.
Finally she looked up. The anger I had seen earlier had cooled but the hurt was still there in her
hazel eyes. I did not like seeing that hurt there and I felt even worse because I was the reason for that hurt.
"I'm sorry. What I did was wrong. I violated your trust, I opened old wounds, and I did not respect your wishes." I said. "And if we're not going to see each other again, then you deserve to know...I am very, very sorry."
Beckett did not respond. What was I hoping for, a smile? A word? An acceptance of my apology?Something, anything? I don't know. Beckett did not speak. That was okay. I had made my unreserved and heartfelt apology. I turned from her desk and slowly walked away leaving her to her paper work.
I had almost reached the main hallway.
"Castle."
I stopped and turned to look back at Beckett.
"I'll see you tomorrow." She said.
Those four words lifted the weight of remorse off my shoulders. Her acceptance of my apology lightened my heart like you would not believe. My spirits lifted. A small smile appeared on my face. I gave her a small nod of the head before I turned and resumed walking out of the bullpen.
XXX
Now you might be wondering if sexy Russian Beckett has ever made a reappearance? Let me just say that we have visited Glechik Cafe in Little Odessa a few times over the years. That sexy hot little outfit that she materialised in at that poker lounge has not appeared again but that hot accent certainly has many, many times.
If I ever need to see her in that sexy hot little outfit again all I have to do is look at the surveillance footage from that night. I have a full copy of the surveillance tape thanks to Detective Ryan. The DA was given a slightly edited version of the tape. What, you think I wouldn't want to have a tape of Russian Beckett? I have only seen it once though, it was to assist me in writing up this case file. I have it safely ensconced in the Castle archives, somewhere. Some time in the future I might pull it out and take a look at it again but not any time soon though. Why would I, when I have the real thing close at hand?
XXXXX
So what did you think of this first case from the second volume of the Case Files? Drop me a line to let me know, I would really like that.
Con