"What've we got?" Kate asks as she kneels next to the body that's crumpled behind a dumpster in an alley behind a nightclub.
Dr. Evans looks up from his clipboard. "Caucasian female, age between 18 to 24. Significant bruising and open wounds, torn dress, ligature mark around the neck."
Kate eyes the smooth red line around the dead girl's neck, followed by the bruises and cuts. "Petechiae?"
Evans kneels, lifts one of the girl's eyelids. "Yup."
Kate lowers her gaze, takes in the thousand dollar Versace dress, the Jimmy Choo's, and the this-season Louis Vuitton purse that lies only a foot away. "Identical crimes," she says, looking over the body to meet Evans' eyes.
He sighs. "That's what I'm afraid of."
Kate's afraid of it too, but she doesn't say that. Instead she gets to her feet, makes her way over to the Louis Vuitton. She digs around, finds a cell phone, and then a wallet.
"Esposito," she calls, without looking up. She feels him next to her as she rifles through the wallet. "Name is Natalie Barton, twenty-one years old." She hands him the cell phone. "Get it to tech, I want to know who she's been talking to."
"Did you say Natalie Barton?" Castle asks, stepping forward.
Kate looks up. He's been hanging back since they arrived. Natalie Barton has beautiful red hair, and she's not much older than Alexis. Kate wants to send him home, but she knows he won't go.
"Yes," she says. "Why? Ring a bell?"
"Assuming this is the same killer as yesterday, which I think we're all assuming?" Castle looks between her, Esposito, and Evans. The M.E. doesn't answer. Esposito shrugs. Kate nods at him, so he continues. "Charles Barton is a very, very wealthy stock trader. He specializes in coffee. Family is worth millions."
"Identical COD and similar vics?" Esposito says. "You're saying we got a serial."
"I'm saying it's a definite possibility," Castle answers. "Look at the stamp on her hand. She was in this nightclub before she was killed. I bet if we ask around, we'll hear that she snuggled up to some guy just before she disappeared. And I bet he matches the sketch we've got."
Kate paces around the victim, still holding the purse. "But why? I know we've got two socialites. But is it really about money?"
"What else could it be about?"
"Power." Esposito looks confused, but she doesn't have time to explain.
"Beckett!" Ryan calls.
Kate turns, suddenly wary from the tone of his voice. He's jogging toward her, checking over his shoulder. Kate looks past him, sees the press and some onlookers held back by crime scene tape that's manned by two uniforms. When he reaches her, he's fumbling with his phone.
"We got a problem."
He thrusts his phone into her hand, and she looks down at the screen just as a video on an Internet browser begins. She watches as a news anchor on the local morning news announces that someone calling himself Nemesis has taken responsibility for the brutal murders of Jamie Easton and Natalie Barton, both daughters of Manhattan's rich and powerful elite. The anchor reads off a short note that explains how the killer works for "justice." He ends his letter by promising more dead bodies. Kate swears under her breath.
"Definitely a serial," Esposito says.
"Yeah, except, that's not the problem," Ryan says.
Kate frowns. "Then what is?"
He points back where he came from. "That."
Kate follows the direction of his finger. The crowds behind the tape are getting bigger, and they've got news cameras and microphones.
Ryan sighs. "We're the morning news."
X-X-X-X-X
It might've been fine if it wasn't for Castle.
The crowds of press get bigger and bigger as Kate works the scene. She tries to ignore them, wants to give Natalie Barton all the attention she deserves, but it's difficult. A serial killer who tortures his victims is bad enough. But a serial killer that names himself something as arrogant as Nemesis and then invites the press to join the dance—that's too many feet to step on and too many reporters who think they can do her job better than she can. This isn't going to end well.
The press is like a pack of rodents who multiply at exponential numbers. Kate calls for back up twenty minutes after she sees the video on Ryan's phone. By the time it arrives, the crowd of reporters has started to draw civilian gawkers too. Esposito and Ryan are staring at the crowd the way they stare at people who say they don't like video games. Kate grabs Castle and decides to make a break for her Crown Vic before things get even worse.
At first, she bullies her way through them just fine, mostly with a glare but sometimes an occasional suggestive push. Most of them move, not nearly brave enough to get in her way despite her never-ending refrain of no comment. And then she hears it.
"Oh my God, that's Richard Castle!"
She doesn't even have time to curse before the next revelation gets shouted out.
"That's Nikki Heat!"
"No, I'm no—" Castle tries, but suddenly there's a mob converging on them, splitting them up, shoving from all angles.
Cameras are thrust into her face, the whirr of dozens of clicks sounding like a great horde of insects that she can't see because the flashes are blinding her, making her see spots when she closes her eyes against the assault. Half of the questions are about Nemesis and the two dead girls, the other half about Nikki Heat and whether reality mirrors fiction. Irritation whips through her blood, hot and sharp. She reaches out and savagely shoves the nearest cameras out of her face.
With her vision clear she sees that they've surrounded Castle just as badly. He's much more accustomed to being mobbed by the press, but when he meets her eyes, he looks a little terrified. Even that she could handle, but then he yelps loud enough that she can hear it over the roar of questions. He leans down and then suddenly disappears from view with another loud yelp. She snaps.
She barrels her way through the crowd, bolstered by a glimpse of Esposito, Ryan, and some uniforms dashing toward the crowd from the crime scene. She doesn't hesitate to Heisman them out of her way, glaring at them when they round on her incredulously. Finally, finally, she gets through the crowd to find Castle cowering on the pavement in the fetal position.
If she wasn't so furious, she'd laugh. She bends over him, wraps her fingers around his forearm, and he flinches.
"Castle," she huffs at him.
He cracks open one eye, sees her, and then yelps. Again. "Kate, thank God," he says dramatically, scrambling to his feet. "One of the vultures," he spits this word at the nearest reporter, who responds by snapping a picture in his face, "stepped on my toe, and then I bent to check on it and they pushed me, I swear, this is barbaric—"
"Let's go," she cuts him off, still holding onto his forearm. Esposito, Ryan, and the uniforms have made it through to them and are hollering about arresting the next person who puts a toe out of line. Kate starts for her Crown Vic, leading a still-pouting Castle, when a brave reporter darts forward and snaps a picture that leaves her momentarily blinded.
"Cute the way you rushed back in there to save him," the reporter sneers at her. He steps toward Castle and raises his camera for another picture. "She that sacrificial in bed, too, Castle?"
Kate reacts without thinking. She grabs the camera out of his hand and sends it smashing down onto the pavement with a violent whip of her arm. The reporter stares at her, wide eyed, and then splutters, "You broke my camera, you bitch!"
Kate steps closer to him, right up in his space. "Want me to break your face, too?"
"Okaaaay," Castle says, dancing in between them, "Let's just go back to the precinct, shall we, Beckett?"
She doesn't move. The reporter glares at her. "You're going to pay for a new one."
"Like hell I am."
"You broke it."
"That's not what I saw," Esposito says, stepping up on one side of the reporter.
The reporter jumps back, only to run into Ryan. "Not what I saw either," Ryan says. "I saw you drop it while assaulting a detective. Javi?"
"Oh, definitely," Esposito says. "At least that's how it'll go in my arrest report for obstruction of justice."
"Precinct?" Castle squeaks.
"Yeah, precinct," Kate says. She lifts an eyebrow at the reporter. "Wanna come with me? My handcuffs are real comfy."
The reporter glowers but backs down. "No."
"Bye then," Esposito says to him. "Have a nice day."
It isn't until the reporter walks away and the rest of the mob starts to turn back to the crime scene that Kate turns on her heel and heads for her Crown Vic.
When the doors of the car are shut and she's starting the ignition, Castle turns in his seat to look at her. "That was really hot."
The fury melts right out of her with a smile.
X-X-X-X-X
Kate has barely stepped off the elevator at the precinct when Gates calls her into her office. Castle offers to make coffee, and Kate nods and smiles at him before making her way to the captain's office.
"Give me the scoop," Gates says, looking over the rim of her glasses as she makes her way around her desk.
"We're looking at a serial," Kate starts. "Same COD, same type of victim—"
"Which is?"
"Pretty young women who come from affluent families. Yesterday was the youngest daughter of Henry Easton, and this morning the oldest daughter of Charles Barton."
"The coffee trader?"
"Yes."
"And she was tortured the same way as the other victim?"
"Looks like it. Evans will have to get her on the table before we know for sure if all the details are the same, but I'm going to operate under the assumption that it's the same guy. The crimes are too similar."
Gates nods, taking it in. Kate waits. When the captain speaks again, she looks at Kate pointedly from behind her glasses. "I saw the news this morning."
Kate flushes. She hadn't even thought about being caught on camera. "Sir, I—"
"They didn't show an altercation in any footage I saw," Gates interrupts. "But they hinted at a famous detective having words with an unknown journalist. Any idea who the famous detective is?"
"No idea," Kate deadpans.
Gates purses her lips in annoyance. "If I remember correctly, you assured me you could handle the press."
"I can," Kate says. "And I did. We've got to keep this under control, especially since the killer got in contact with them."
"Hm," Gates hums noncommittally. She looks over a file on her desk. "What is it he called himself? Nemesis?"
"Yes, sir."
"As in an enemy?"
"I don't know."
"Perhaps that should be one of the first leads you follow. I'm sure it means something. Keep me posted."
Kate can tell she's been dismissed, but she isn't done yet. "Sir, I need more manpower."
Gates looks up. "Manpower?"
"My team does a hell of a job, but if this is a serial, and the press is already this involved, I'm going to need more than just Ryan and Esposito."
"Well who would you like?"
Kate's taken aback. She'd expected to fight for more hands on deck, at least until a third body dropped. "Allen from Vice," she says immediately. She's known him since she was a Vice detective herself, and he's one of the best. "And Lennox from Robbery," she adds. "A couple uniforms."
Gates nods. "They'll be here in an hour."
X-X-X-X-X
Gates keeps her word. In less than an hour, Detectives Harvey Allen and Jimmy Lennox are sprawled in desk chairs and laughing at Castle like they've been part of the team for months. In addition to the new detectives, her team now includes five uniformed officers who are practically vibrating with excitement, each of them hoping that this will be the case that gets them promoted to detective.
Kate caps her Expo marker and turns to face her team. Castle is the first to notice that she's finished filling in the murder board, and he immediately straightens and gives her his full attention. Esposito frowns at him, but follows suit after a glance in her direction. Ryan is next, then Allen and Lennox and the rest. Kate stifles a smile and gets right to business.
"I want to keep this brief so that we can get right to work. As of now, we have two victims: Jamie Easton and Natalie Barton. Jamie was killed in a hotel room at the Waldorf during her sister's wedding. Natalie was killed in a back alley behind a nightclub called Lumos."
Kate gestures to each of their pictures when she mentions them, then points to her notes written in red marker.
"Each of the vics is in the 18 to 24 age range and comes from an affluent and well known family. The Eastons own a successful department store chain, and Barton's father is a well known stock trader."
"You think the murders have something to do with money?" Lennox asks.
"I'm not ruling it out," Kate answers. "The nature of the crime certainly indicates a lot of rage, so we could be looking at resentment of the families' status. Our first vic was given a dose of pancuronium, a drug that paralyzes the body but leaves the person fully conscious and aware. There's no needle marks on her body, so we have to assume she ingested it."
Kate flicks her gaze over the uniformed officers, watches the horror register on their young faces. She remembers being that young, though she doesn't remember being quite so bad at hiding her reactions.
"What'd the sick bastard do with her then?" Allen asks gruffly.
One of the uniformed officers, a pretty blonde, winces. Kate doesn't mince words. It won't do the officer any favors.
"He raped and tortured her. We don't have proof that Natalie Barton ingested pancuronium, but judging by the state of her body when we found her, it's a good assumption he treated them both the same."
The entire team is quiet, soaking it in. Kate gives them a minute. When she speaks again, her voice is measured. She can't stop thinking about the chill in her veins when Evans first explained the pancuronium. The chill hasn't gone away yet.
"I'm sure I don't have to explain that we need this guy off the streets, and we need it done quick. This is the only description we have of him." She points to the sketch that Jamie's estranged boyfriend helped create. "We know nothing else about him so far."
"Tell us where you want us, Beckett," Esposito says with his shoulders squared.
"Esposito, I want you to run the MO through the Real Time Crime Center. See if there's any that match ours, and look at recent prison releases especially." Esposito nods, and Kate turns to his partner. "Ryan, I want you to go through the security footage we have from Lumos and the Waldorf. Look for anyone matching our sketch, but go broader too. Anything that seems out of place. Use Hamilton as another set of eyes."
A tall and gangly uniformed officer jumps to his feet when Kate says his name. Ryan eyes him warily, and Esposito snickers. Kate ignores him.
"Allen, I want you to take these four officers and canvas all the transit areas around both crime scenes with the sketch. See if anyone recognizes him. He had to get home somehow. Lennox, find out where that pancuronium came from. Hopefully our killer is an idiot and ordered it in bulk with his credit card. Let's get to work."
Everyone is up and moving, the uniforms chattering excitedly as they follow an already-exasperated Allen toward the elevator. Kate watches them go, rolling the Expo marker between the palms of her hands.
Castle sidles up next to her. "That was hot too."
Kate shakes her head and whispers, "One night without sex and you're a lascivious mess all day."
"Did you just say lascivious?"
"Concupiscent?"
His mouth falls open. She smirks.
He leans in conspiratorially. "Guess you'll have to tend to my needs if you want me to be useful for the rest of the day."
She prods him in the chest with the marker. "Who says I need you to be useful? I can solve this one all by myself." She meets his gaze with a smoldering look. "Maybe you should try doing something by yourself too, Castle."
He glares at her. "I hate you."
She grins. "Make sure you lock the door behind you."