A/N: Welcome to the death of Sam Canston ;)

Chapter 11 - Thou shalt not kill

He disconnected the call and tossed the burner phone after he had removed the sim card and had folded it in half. It was time to find out who this Gina Cowell was, that had called Sam Canston. He thought her name had rang a bell. He needed to make sure she didn't suspect anything or alerted the police too early when the photographer didn't call back in an acceptable time span.

He decided to look into the persona Gina Cowell and to be hot on her heels.

Arlene Francis hadn't been able to sleep that night. One of her neighbors obviously stayed up all night as the light in the apartment was left on, shining brightly into her bedroom. She had considered to call the police several times but since she didn't have a noise complaint, nothing would have happened, right? Not until there would be a law against leaving your light on at night. Arlene had read about several interesting laws in the U.S., such as men not being allowed to wear a bathrobe without a waist belt publicly in Miami or a small town in Idaho where men are not allowed to wave at women whom they don't know. Somewhere might actually be a law that said not to leave the light on at night, especially if you don't seem to be at home. Arlene swore to herself that she would do some research on it. For the night she was content with closing her blinds fully and wearing an eye mask. You never knew.

When she awoke at 7:30 am the following morning, she completely forgot about the light in the apartment across the street that had lit up her bedroom. She got dressed, made herself a small breakfast and got ready for work when she realized that she had left her phone on her nightstand. Unable to leave it there for several reasons, she made her way back into her bedroom, quickly made the bed and then opened the blinds. She recalled why they were completely down and upon moving them back up again, she was curious to see whether the neighbor had still left his light burning. As far as she knew he did this often, his photography jobs required changing schedules and late night work. Arlene Francis glanced out of her window to find the light still burning in the apartment, in every room that faced her building.

She made a mental note to check if this was still the case later and left her apartment for work.

At the same time the answering machine in Sam Canston's apartment took another message: "Look, Sam, I know you're quite busy but this is actually getting more urgent by the minute. Can you please call me back as soon as possible? Oh, it's Gina Cowell again!"

He saw himself as a mixture of Robin Hood and God- taking from those that had to much and giving it to those, that deserved it way more. On top of that he had the arguable privilege of choosing who would continue to live and who wouldn't. He knew that others would find it arguable if they had known that he did what he did, he couldn't deny that morally there were several views to be considered in his case. He saw himself as a caretaker, a creator and a chastiser.

On his desk five manila folders lay, each labeled with different numeric codes, fogging the identity of the person in them. One folder was currently flipped open and a picture of Tori Ellis was attached to the left side of the folder with a black paper clip. The contents of the folder consisted of work records, health records and other collected personal information which served for character analysis. After all he needed to be sure to find the right employees for his business.

'Rent a Solution' was his tale of the rags to riches tale of someone that worked his way up to the top, or to what he considered to be the top, to be the most lucrative. Tori would be his diamond, his best-trained employee ever. He could feel it, most certainly she was a brilliant addition to his team. He contemplated when to tell her who was behind her abduction, her hiring, who wanted to see Jerry Tyson dead and who had basically chosen or pre-determined her to do it in the end. It was against his policies to reveal the name of the person behind the work that they were doing. Thus no one was in danger of being caught. No records, they were stored in his mind only. He kept his own identity a secret to everyone he was in contact with. Everything concerning 'Rent a Solution' was secretive, starting with who he was. Although he was fairly certain he must have made some mistakes in the early days of his business career that might be traceable. But not for the regular police forces, maybe not even for higher governmental forces. Nothing in this more and more capitalistic and ego centrical world could be taken for granted- so all secrets were game and in use.

He softly touched the outline of Tori Ellis' face on the picture he stored in the file and an almost gentle expression could be seen on his furrowed face, his youth withered away by the things he had seen and done. She was daughter he never had and never would have, Tori represented what he would have loved his daughter to be- strength, passion, willpower, trust, loyalty. The ability to love passionately and deeply, against all odds. The fascination to kill.

He would go down to her room again to talk to her, see if she had made up her mind in the meantime. Jerry Tyson still faced trial, granted, but surprisingly no other state in which he had committed a murder had stepped up and demanded an official transfer to one of their state prisons. This ultimately meant that Tyson might be lucky to escape a trial for death penalty anytime soon. Bureaucracy was a necessity in a country as big as the U.S. but he sometimes wondered when it had become the destructive gigantic monster it was now. Going at the speed the official negotiations were currently being processed, Jerry could be waiting for an official trial for a couple of years. Given his background, the violence he had shown, the twisted logic with which he approached things and the deadly precision that plastered his way, it was highly likely that Jerry Tyson had a backup plan. One that would help him out of prison.

That was why 'Rent a Solution' had secretly been contacted by an influential, wealthy man. Someone who wanted, needed, had to see Jerry Tyson dead.

The employer got up from his chair and closed Tori's folder. It was time to speak to her.

Kate hadn't seen the sun rise this morning, sitting on her desk even before it had peeked out. The bullpen was busy already, incoming calls blocking their lines since the news of Eddie Potter's death had leaked through. The variety of the calls was outstanding: Starting with those calls that demanded several police officers to repeatedly confirm his death, those that requested the release of the death certificate- requests that had to be politely but also repeatedly denied in the course of the last few hours. Then there were the obligatory screamers, those that blamed the police for Eddie never being arrested for the things they accused him of- those people screamed at the top of their lungs at 6:30 am, asking for superiors, yelling, giving (screamed) lectures on how to be a proper member of the police force. The amount of lunatics calling in that reported having seen the ghost of Eddie Potter at various places of New York City reached a peak of by then unknown numbers. Kate could have sworn it was Halloween, the day of the year the density of lunatics was traditionally the highest.

And then Arlene Francis had called. Normally, no one would have paid attention to a woman in her forties who reported the fact that her neighbor had illuminated his apartment with all lamps possible last night. But Arlene's call had been put through to Kate Beckett. And the name Sam Canston had rung a bell. So Kate was now working on a hunch once again but she decided to give it a go. Sam Canston hadn't been reported missing just yet, still she was preparing to make a move s soon as possible. The opportunity to act on her hunch was presented to her as soon as Castle arrived at the precinct.

"I just got off the phone with Gina," he said, still fuming with rage. Something must have been upsetting, his laid-back conduct interrupted by the conversation.

"What did she want?" Kate casually asked, feigning interest in Castle's second ex-wife.

"It's rather 'what did she do'. Guess who called Sam Canston against my explicit wish? Against everything we've discussed? Once she broke the news to me the only thing you could hear was me yelling at the inappropriateness of her behavior. People turned their heads as I was doing this buying you a bear claw at the bakery. But I didn't mind. She has crossed a line now. I've made crystal clear that she is on probation from now on. I am more than willing to find myself other employees if necessary."

Kate had listened to his little monologue with little to none interest since her mind was busy thinking that something might be wrong with Sam Canston, the photographer that Gina had called last night.

"When did she call him?"

"Hum?" Castle hummed and handed Kate the bear claw which she accepted greedily.

"I said when did she call him?"

"Why would...?"

"Castle, please, just answer my question, when did she call him?"

"Last night around 11, why?"

"And he didn't answer?"

"No, the answering machine picked up and Gina left him a note. She tried again this morning but he didn't pick up either."

"Something is wrong," Kate said, matter of factly and bit into the bear claw.

"Why would something be wrong? Maybe the guy was out for work?" Castle suggested a - surprisingly possible - theory.

"I would have said the same," said Kate between two bites, "but I just had a call from an anxious neighbor of his, Ms Arlene Francis who told me that she had to close her blinds because her dear neighbor - who turns out to be Mr Sam Canston - must have switched on every lamp he owned. She was literally blinded by the light. She also says that his light hasn't been switched off all night, it was still there when she got up earlier. She had contemplated calling on for this but I am glad she did. I am working on a hunch now, he is not reported missing but this really sounds odd."

"Sure does," Castle mumbled, eating a sprinkled donut, "and since your hunches have been quite powerful lately, I'd say we give it a go."

"Whoa there cowboy, I gotta go see Gates about it to get jurisdiction for what I am planning to do. I, however, have asked Esposito to check if he can find any business meetings Sam might have missed yesterday, or even today..."

"Think I can help you with that," Esposito cut in, approaching her desk.

"You can?" Kate asked, being surprised herself.

"Sam Canston was scheduled to take photographs at an engagement party in SoHo last night. He was supposed to arrive at 9pm but remained a no show. The couple called him and left an outraged voicemail on his machine. Turns out, he hasn't picked up this morning either. UPS was scheduled to pick up some packages from his apartment this morning, too, they report that he hasn't opened the door."

"Okay, something IS up, I am going to go see Gates. Prepare to go over to Canston's address and have paramedics on standby, we might need them."

"A hunch?" asked Castle and smirked.

"A hunch, Castle, yeah. Just a hunch."

A/N: More tomorrow, I can't keep my eyes open.