Ian
Chapter 10
Kate looked up from her desk as Castle bounded out of the elevator carrying a canvas bag. "Castle you're early. We don't interview Claudia Peterson for another half hour."
"I know," Castle acknowledged. "But there's something..." The elevator doors opened again. "Oh, here he is." He waved at the man wheeling a dolly bearing a large box. "Follow me."
"Castle, what the hell?" Kate called after him as Castle led the box bearer to the break room. Castle looked over his shoulder at her. "Detective, you're gonna love this!" When they reached their destination, Castle watched as the delivery man unloaded the box and slit it open to reveal a commercial espresso machine. "You're going to help me put this together right um...," Castle checked the name on the man's uniform. "Nico?"
Nico consulted his paperwork. "Yup, you paid the set-up surcharge. Where do you want it?"
Castle hastily rearranged the grunge encrusted coffee maker and canisters of flavor disguising agents on the counter. "Here." The men maneuvered the machine together, making sure all the parts were in place.
Captain Montgomery strolled in and clapped Castle on the shoulder. "Rick, I'm looking forward to sampling something from that thing. We haven't had decent coffee in here for ten years. And," he added, "Beckett does have a soft spot for lattes."
"I know," Rick agreed. "I've heard her order off the Latte-Wow truck; non-fat milk and two pumps of sugar-free vanilla." Rick unpacked the contents of his tote, revealing the ingredients he needed, and set to work preparing Beckett's custom brew.
Kate suppressed a smile at the happy face Castle had crafted in the foam, but sipped appreciatively at the mug Castle handed her. "Castle how did you know my latte order?"
"I'm a writer. Observing is what I do. That's why I'm here, Detective. But believe me, I've got nothing on Ian," Castle confessed. "He could probably figure out what you had for breakfast this morning by the spot on your blouse. But I can't tell, is that ketchup or hot sauce?"
Kate looked down at her shirt and then at the huge dial on her wrist. "Damn, I've only got a couple of minutes to get that out before we meet with Claudia Peterson and her lawyer."
Castle pulled a stain lifting stick out of his pocket and handed it to her. "Part of parenthood and unexpected encounters with paparazzi; always be prepared." Kate attacked the stain over her left breast, admiringly regarded by Castle.
She glared back at him, handed him the stick, and picked up a file. "My face is up here, Castle. And if you want to join me in Interrogation, you'd better keep your eyes where they belong."
"Message received," Castle responded, and followed her the short distance down the hall.
Claudia Peterson and her lawyer Carter Wainwright were waiting when Kate and Castle arrived. Without greeting, Kate took a seat across from them at the table, with Castle beside her. Kate opened her file and slid a small stack of papers to Wainwright. "Copies of the latest lab results, counselor. Our lab was able to sort through the fingerprints on the handle of the dryer containing Sarah Manning's body. Your client's were there. And before you suggest that might have occurred from doing laundry, they were not found on any of the washing machines or the other dryers. If you'll look at the second sheet, you'll see that a spot of saliva on Sarah Manning's cheek contained your client's DNA as well."
"She must have been spitting mad," Castle quipped.
Kate ignored him and continued. "The third page contains the analysis of the bleach residue on a dress and a pair of shoes, both of which contained your client's DNA. It is a match with residue from a bleach bottle found at the murder scene. Adding to that your client's unexplained absence from work at the time of death, and the fact that Sarah Manning was having an affair with your client's husband, you can be sure that any jury will get the picture."
"The case is still strictly circumstantial," Wainwright asserted. "My client was known to have previous contact with Sarah Manning. Her fingerprints could have been cleaned from the washing machines by the maintenance staff, and thousands if not millions of bottle of that bleach are sold. You have no witness and no video that put my client in that laundry room at the time of death."
"Look at the fourth sheet, Mr. Wainwright," Kate instructed. "Our crime scene unit went back and inspected the path from the laundry room up the stairs and into your client's apartment. There are tiny, almost imperceptible bleach marks forming a trail over her entire route. There are even bleach marks on the carpet in the apartment. They bear witness to what happened."
"Shame that," Castle added. "Having to replace all that carpet. High end stuff too. What does that carpet sell for, a hundred dollars a square yard?"
Without changing expression, Kate kicked Castle's ankle under the table. "Mr. Wainwright, what happened will be clear to even the most obtuse juror. Your client will be convicted. But Mrs. Peterson can spare her son the trauma of a trial by confessing."
Castle caught Claudia firmly in his gaze. "Mrs. Peterson, I have a son too. Parent to parent, do you really want to put Justin through that?"
Claudia turned to Wainwright with a questioning look. "We'll need the room with the recording devices turned off, to discuss this," Wainwright requested.
Kate motioned at a uniformed cop at the door. "Fine. You have officer Harrison call us when you're ready. She'll be right outside the door." Kate flicked a switch on the microphone and rose from the table. Castle followed her through the door.
"The lab sure did a lot more work since the last time you filled me in," Castle remarked.
"That's what they do, Castle. You may spin scenarios, but they have to prove them," Kate responded.
Castle did his best to ignore both her jab and his still smarting ankle. "Want another coffee while we wait?" he offered as Kate headed back to her desk.
Kate shook her head. "As skillful a barista as you are Castle, I don't think you'll have time to make another round. We have Claudia, and Wainwright knows it. He'll convince her to take a plea. From her face, I think she might have heard what you said about Justin too."
Castle's eyes narrowed. "Nice to know I performed some small service."
Kate's analysis proved to be on the mark, and officer Harrison summoned her a few moments later, reporting that Carter Wainwright was ready to talk deal. Kate got A.D.A. Toni Gonzalez on her cell to facilitate the process, and returned with Castle to Interrogation.
After Claudia Peterson had been led off to holding, Castle sank down in his chair next to Kate's desk. "Is this your brooding writer mode, Castle?" Kate asked. "You figured out who the killer was and we nailed her. I would think you'd be ecstatic."
"I was thinking about Justin Peterson," Castle confided. "He's going to be growing up with a mother in prison. Howard Peterson may not be a murderer, but he's no prize as a father either. It's going to be tough for the boy."
"We see that all the time, Castle," Kate replied, "things in real life don't tie up all nice and neat like they do in your books. Sometimes they don't tie up at all."
"Is that what happened with your father?" Castle asked.
"My father? What are you talking about, Castle?"
Castle pointed to her watch. "I saw that. Doesn't exactly match the spike heels. I thought it might have been your father's."
"It was, Castle. But he is alive and well - now." Kate pulled a ring on a chain out from under her blouse. "This was my mother's. She was stabbed to death. It wasn't even a mugging. She still had her wallet and her jewelry. The police chalked it up to a random killing. And you were right. Whoever did it, was never caught. After I graduated from the academy, I spent the next three years trying to solve her murder, but I never could. My dad took it pretty hard. While I tried to lose myself in work, he tried to do it in a bottle. He's been sober for five years. So this," Kate explained, pointing to the watch, "is for the life I saved." She lifted the ring, almost pressing it to her lips. "And this is for the life I lost. So now your character has a back story, Castle. Does that make you happy?"
"Well I was actually thinking about cop by day and hooker by night," Castle teased, "but I can make a dark troubled past work." Castle was silent for a moment, absently pushing back a lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead. "Maybe I can make something work for Justin, too," Castle murmured. He pushed himself up from his chair. "I'll see you tomorrow, Detective."
When Castle let himself into the loft, Ian was grating a mass of cheese over tortilla chips to microwave for nachos. "Hi Dad! Did you get the killer?"
Castle sighed, laying his jacket and scarf on the chair by the door. "We did."
"You don't look happy about it." Ian observed.
"No, I am, it's just that there was some collateral damage. Say, maybe be you can help me do something about that. How would you like a new friend? There's a boy who can really use one right now. He's a few years younger than you, but I hear he's had a lot of practice at video games."
Ian tilted his head appraisingly at his father. "Yeah, sure Dad. We nerds can always use another friend."