Disclaimer: I do not own Castle or any connected material
John Irving
Once in the Roach Coach, the two partners made their way across town toward the home of Dr. Charles Nelson. Due to the high snow volume, the side streets were a no go. Plows had to push the hastily fallen snow somewhere. A snow emergency was in effect for the entire state of New York as well as the rest of New England. It had come down from the mayor's office the night before that side streets were going to be off limits to everyone driving so to keep the main roads as clear as possible.
A squad car hung back four car lengths from them. The two uniforms seemed afraid to get closer and that would crash into the Roach Coach on these slick streets. Raley and Ochoa agreed to call their collective tails 'John Irving.' It seemed fitting for the duo following the duo to have a nickname too.
Raley was given the honor of driving by his partner, knowing that even a simple thing like keeping his eyes on the road would be enough to keep his haunting thoughts at bay. Each intersection was a gamble, there was no telling if a vehicle would come sliding through due to the heavy amount of ice that was now buried under the layer of snow.
Once they reached the address of their new suspect, they slowly pulled to the side of the building. They exited the car, just as John Irving passed them. They too were looking for a spot to pull over. They decided not to wait, and headed up to the doctor's apartment.
Once inside they shook off the flakes that had accumulated on them during the short journey from their car to the building. They had to hoof it up the stairs, seeing no elevator to ease their ascent to the seventh floor. They had a climb before them.
Raley knocked.
"Dr. Nelson, NYPD, open up," Ochoa shouted through the door.
Silence.
Detective Raley knocked louder. "NYPD! Charles Nelson!"
They both leaned in as close as they dared. A very odd sound coming from the other side of the door prompted an exchange of curious looks. It was a slow squeak, almost like an old window being forced open. The detectives drew their service pistols. Ochoa took an aggressive stance in front of the door, as Raley leaned to the side of the entrance. Ochoa kicked the door open. It swung wide on its hinges. If anyone was inside, they were now clearly aware of their presence.
Roach entered quickly. The interior of the apartment was in shambles. It was clear that someone had tossed the place. The partners held their guns at the ready, moving quickly to separate areas of the room.
"Charles Nelson! NYPD! Show yourself!" Raley took the path to the bedroom and surveyed the contents of the bathroom along the way. Once he cleared each room, as well as checked all corners he yelled, "Clear!"
Ochoa took the path to the kitchen, checking both under the table and inside the pantry, "Clear!"
The detectives holstered their service pieces and surveyed the area fully.
"Our doctor doesn't appear to be home," Ochoa commented as he reentered the living room.
"I'd say. What a pig sty. What do you suppose happened?" Raley asked emerging from the bedroom.
"You would think someone with a Doctorate would have a nicer place."
"I would venture a guess, that his run in's with PETA have him hurting a bit."
"Too true," said the younger detective.
Detective Ochoa reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pair of crime scene gloves. He knelt down to pick up a piece of paper that caught his eye. "This may have something to do with it." He held the paper up to his partner, so he could read it.
"It's a work schedule for Gillian Baker? So it would seem that the man had been following Ms. Baker after all." He took a glove from his jacket pocket and took the paper from his partner.
Ochoa continued to sift through the pile of paperwork. He brushed away a stack of papers and spoke. "Stalking would be more accurate a term." A collage of snapshots devoted to Gillian Baker appeared on floor below him on a poster board. "It doesn't look like she gave him permission to take these photos." He pointed to the picture of a long shot of her from her bedroom window, she was half dressed.
"Great. A perv. This case just gets better and better."
A sound from the kitchen window made them reach for their Glocks. Snow fell from the roof and landed on the window and fire escape. A loud squeak from the fire escape made a sound similar to the one that they had heard earlier.
A different noise from the entryway of the apartment made the two detectives turn toward it with their guns drawn.
John Irving stood in the doorway, their guns cocked and at the ready. Roach breathed simultaneous sighs of relief when they recognized the officers and lowered their guns. Unfortunately for them, the cops from the 13th precinct didn't mimic Roach's actions.
Johnson and Irving both fired their pistols toward the detectives. Ochoa pushed his partner down to the hard floor and behind the living room couch for some cover. They both heard the first bullet strike and shatter the window behind them and a howl of cold air emanated from it. Not a millisecond had gone by, when the second bullet hit a much softer target.
The second bullet hit Ochoa and he felt the blood start to steam down.
He fell hard on the wood floor below, staining part of it crimson.
"Och…!" Raley's shouted desperately. But he was barely heard because his voice was muffled by additional gunfire. The thought finally graced the detectives mind, Johnson and Irving were dirty.