I will again remind readers that I can not guarantee a happy ending.*
Whoever knows which American TV show unjustly cancelled after one season starring a British actor I allude to in this chapter gets a virtual cookie.
Castle walked through his door close to midnight. After locking the door behind him and changing into comfortable clothes, he turned on the lamp in his study and slumped down into his chair. He gathered his thoughts for several moments, then opened the top drawer to reveal the copy of Sudden Risk that had remained untouched since he'd received it.
Flipping it over, he read the synopsis.
Noting the similarity with the real-life bombing, he proceeded to read the book, cover to cover.
Here we go, he thought to himself.
He woke up the next day with his head on the desk and a pain in his neck. He squinted at the morning sun and reached behind his neck as he looked down at the book, which was face down on top of the desk. He'd only had a few pages left when he'd finally succumbed to sleep, pages which he finished before he rose stiffly, showered, dressed and made a new journal entry.
A lot had happened in the last twenty four hours: he'd found Roy Montgomery alive, learned about more details pertaining to the Pulgatti case, had dinner with the Beckett family, had his heart practically torn apart by an obliviously happy engaged couple and read this book, which, well-written though it may be, was not really his style. It started out as your usual action disaster piece: a bomb threat, a savvy agent charged with finding those responsible and a ticking clock to avert disaster.
The protagonist - agent Mike Talon - appears to find those responsible but finds out too late that he was wrong, and the suspect is innocent. His mistake costs the city dearly when the bomb goes off. Talon eventually finds out that rogue government agents had been behind the bombing in order to declare war on the middle eastern country the suspects hail from but is paid off to stay silent. The government covers everything up by framing the suspect, and the point of view switches to a family man whose wife and child both perished in the blast. He uncovers the plot and is sanctioned with extreme prejudice by a black op hit squad for his efforts. The conspiracy remains hidden, the bad guys win, and justice is not served.
That was where the book ended. It was a bold, thought-provoking ending. · Nothing like the way his books would usually end. Justice would always prevail in his standalone novels. Until now, apparently. It seemed his alter ego had obviously become much more jaded and cynical. It also seemed – even though this was a fictional account - that while, as he'd found in the virtual murder board full of evidence that the other Richard Castle had put together, he had managed to find all of the information he should have needed to point him in the right direction, he'd had come to absolutely the wrong conclusion: that the U.S. Government had been responsible for framing the Alhabis and had bombed their own country to justify a war against Syria.·
It was the 9/11 conspiracy theories all over again. He felt not just sick but ashamed of his alternate self for even suggesting it. Jim's accusations now seemed much more justified than he had originally thought.
Not only that, but the thinly veiled attack on Agent Mark Fallon's integrity was not only grossly inaccurate, but downright morally wrong. Was the other Richard Castle even aware that Agent Fallon's wife had ridden the second tower down on the day the World Trade Centre was attacked? That he had been on the phone with her when it happened? That he had dedicated his life to keep that from happening again?
Had he even met Mark Fallon, or had he based his characterisation purely on the man's reputation?
So many thoughts, so many feelings, so much frustration.
After lunch, he turned his attentions to Homage to A Murder, which had filled him with much trepidation before he was sure he wasn't dreaming, thinking this might be a red band/green band situation. Now that those fears had been assuaged, he took it to the most comfortable chair in the living room and began to read that as well.
It was centred around a Wes Craven style Hollywood horror screenwriter/director who is called in for questioning by the LAPD in reference to a series of murders staged to resemble death scenes in his films. Of course, the screen-writer decides to assist the police in their investigation and finds the key evidence that solves the case.
There were many differences with the events in the investigation of the Allison Tisdale case as he remembered them, but the similarities were there and too numerous to be mere coincidence.
Castle was going through the details of the Alhabi case on the virtual murder board when Martha got home.
"Oh, no," she said from behind him.
He turned around.
"Mother," he said. "You're back."
"Richard, I thought forgetting this investigation would help you move on from it. This is not healthy. You made this your obsession. It's almost as bad as that Sophia Turner situation."
Castle froze.
"Sophia Turner?"
"She was a CIA agent you shadowed - "
"Yeah, I know who she was, mother."
"Oh. Good. Well, do you know that she was a mole who conspired to trigger world war three?" she asked, looking at him expectantly.
"Yes," Castle said.
Martha looked surprised. Apparently, that was not the reaction she'd expected.
"Really? You've been convinced of her innocence since she was killed two years ago."
"Well, I guess I can add that to the list of things I've been wrong about lately." There was a sharp edge to his tone.
"And what about Damien Westlake? Have you changed your mind about him, too?"
Castle nodded slowly. "Damien is innocent of his wife's murder but guilty of conspiring to kill his father."
"He's serving time for his wife's murder. They never had enough evidence to convict him of his father's."
Castle shrugged.
"Well, it's not exactly justice, but it will do."
Martha examined her son.
"What's come over you, Richard?" she asked.
"The truth," he replied. "What do you know about Homage to a Murder?"
Martha blinked.
"Your book?"
"Yes."
"Well it was very good, dear."
He rolled his eyes.
"That's… not what I meant, mother. I'm talking about the story. Did I base it on true events?"
"Yes. The copycat killer who was aping your books. You were rather proud of that, as I recall, until you discovered you were just a red herring to disguise the true killer. "
"So, I helped catch the killer?"
"Not exactly. You assisted with the investigation, overstepped your mark, got arrested, let off with a warning and asked to stay out of the investigation, persisted and only stopped when Senator Weldon called you into his office."
"Wait - senator?"
She nodded.
"Of course, he was still mayor at the time. It turned out, you were right about the real killer, but by the time it was proven he'd already fled the country. He's still on the run. It was very embarrassing for the NYPD. Bob was able to arrange a few ride-alongs for you. You shadowed different precincts for about three weeks before declaring it boring and simply basing your novel on that case."
"Huh," Castle said. "You've given me something to think about, mother."
Plant a seed. Watch it grow.
