Chapter Twelve
Keeping Up With Mr. Jones


"Get a girl's hair wet and they never let it go."
Vulcan Simmons: Castle 6x22 Veritas


Previously

As much as Lady Harriet Makepeace had wanted him to be tried and sent to the Isle of Wight in connection with the death of her husband, former NYPD Lieutenant James Dempsey. Part of her found it fitting that her husband's former employer would have the privilege of putting away the murderer of one of its own. At least Pizer would be in a cage where he belonged.

James would have felt a certain vindication in that. She'd had the extradition paperwork filed in the Queen's court half an hour before closing time. They would be done almost before an extradition request could be filed. Pizer had apparently been involved in the abduction and attempted murder an NYPD Detective there, but she wanted to meet this Detective Beckett first, get the measure of her, see if she was the type to let him walk on some sweetheart deal like the now-disgraced Senator Bracken had been willing to hand down. If Harriet liked what she saw, then she would smooth the way for John Pizer's extradition.

If Lady Makepeace couldn't put the bastard away for her beloved James' murder, at least justice would be served...and served cold. She had heard that the winters in Ossining, NY were very cold indeed.


September 13th 2014

When Kate had gotten up that morning, she hadn't expected to be packing her rolling suitcase to board a flight, nor had she figured on Rick being so gung-ho to go with her. That was until she had gotten a phone call from Captain Gates that John Pizer was in a holding cell at New Scotland Yard and were holding him pending extradition hearings. This might be her one chance to interview him. If he fought extradition and won, he'd be in the wind.

"Castle, you realize they might not even let you into the interview room with me... you aren't a cop." Kate stated while he packed his weekend bag and quietly debated whether to bring his laptop or his tablet... before sliding them both into his messenger bag.

The flight to and from their honeymoon had been tense to say the least, Rick's distaste for enclosed spaces since his accident had been fully evident. She was trying to give him an out.

"I'm your partner, Kate. Where you go, I go," Rick replied, a look of fierce determination on his face, "besides, Dr. Swann told me that I needed to face my fear if I'm going to beat it."

Kate's face softened. She knew there wasn't a chance in hell that Rick would even contemplate getting on a plane if she wasn't going to London. She worried about him. He still held the passenger door handle in a near death-grip even on the short drive to the precinct and she wasn't certain how he was going to be able to handle an eight hour flight. The flight to and home from their honeymoon she'd had to medicate him. On the other hand she wasn't sure she could handle being away from him for nearly seven days either. The last time she had gone someplace without him at Captain Gates' urging she had almost been killed, so she could understand his desire not to be left out this time.


When they'd boarded their flight after a brief and slightly mortifying trip through security, during which she certain the TSA agent had groped her a bit too long on purpose - even after she had shown her badge - Castle had hustled them past the stewardess jump seats after noting a very familiar-looking blonde already buckled into one of them.

Blessedly, Rick had upgraded their seats to first class. He had seemed as mortified as she was at the possibility of Jacinda being on their flight, but at least whomever it was appeared to be flying as a passenger and not as flight staff. He looked a bit nervous to be flying as it was.

"Castle...was that...?" she began to ask, but cut herself off when she saw there were more important concerns. Castle was white as a sheet.

Kate helped him into his seat, whispering comforting words while she buckled him in before taking the seat next to his. He seemed determined to gut this out... to be her partner again in more than name and she hoped the flight wouldn't set his emotional recovery back. Thankfully, they had made plans to stay for a week, she hadn't been sure how long it would take for the State Department to work out extradition, especially if Pizer decided to fight it. She wanted to be able to interrogate him, just in case they couldn't get him back to New York.

She knew she didn't want to be the one to accompany the man for his return to the U.S.. Not with Rick in this state. She wanted to be around Pizer as little as possible after she interrogated him. He was the last loose end from her time in that cold, dark basement and she wanted to finally be able to put that horrible experience behind her, like she had with her mother's case.

Kate took Rick's right hand in her left, stroking his knuckles lightly as the Boeing 767 began to taxi to the runway and did her best to keep him focused on her and not a burning car in Long Island. Hopefully she could get him to relax enough so he could sleep through at least some of the flight, otherwise she would have to try to keep him calm. Kate never did know how long Rick had been trapped in the car before he'd managed to free himself, but it had obviously had a lasting effect. She had remembered similar feelings after their plunge into the Hudson River on her Crown Victoria and the thought made her shiver, even in the warmth of the aircraft.

Once the plane had reached cruising altitude and the "fasten seat belts" sign went out Rick seemed to relax a little. The first class seats did gave him the illusion of space and once he was free of the seat belt his spirits improved. As soon as he was able to get up and move around freely he seemed to feel more like himself. He even pulled his tablet from the overhead compartment and started playing Angry Birds Star Wars II to entertain himself.

Kate smiled in spite of herself and got up from her seat. At Rick's look of concern, she patted his shoulder and kissed him on the cheek.

"I have to pee," she whispered with a smile. "If the flight attendant comes for the in-flight meal, feel free to order for me."

Kate ambled back toward the restroom, trying to look more casual and relaxed than she felt. She eyed the curtain that led to the section where the flight attendants sat, and considered her options. She still felt a mild surge of jealousy over Rick's fling with Jacinda, even after all of this time. She had come close to having a fling of her own with Colin Hunt, but she just hadn't been able to bring herself to go through with it. She was certain that this was around the time he had found out that she'd lied about remembering his declaration of love at her shooting. She couldn't prove it, and they had never really talked about it directly, but she was certain of it.

They never discussed their fight in her apartment before she and Espo had gone after Maddox, either. That incident and Jacinda were two items on a very short list of topics they'd mutually agreed to file away as "water under the bridge" that never needed to be discussed again. With that in mind, she decided against finding out if the woman she had seen was indeed Jacinda and turned back toward their seats. Since Jacinda, if that was her, was obviously not working this flight there was no need to stir up trouble that was long ago put to rest, she decided to let sleeping dogs lie.

When Rick saw her walking back up the aisle so soon after leaving, he looked mildly confused.

"False alarm," Kate offered, smiling.


Rick set up his tablet for Skype, over which he managed to catch Alexis at home and have a wonderfully engaging conversation with her for the better part of an hour as Alexis regaled him with her latest adventures at Columbia. The news that she had renewed her friendship with Sara El-Masri was welcome indeed and showed that Alexis and Sara were both finally making progress after their ordeal. She seemed to be genuinely excited to be attending classes and being back on the campus social scene again.

Rick had made a point not to ask if Martha was up to her usual shenanigans and Alexis didn't offer, but it was clear from the blush in the girl's cheeks and the way she fidgeted on the screen that - even within the short time they had been gone - something hinky was going on in the Castle loft. Kate rolled her eyes, some things never change. She and her father would have great fun at Rick's expense at their next Sunday brunch with him.

The rest of the flight was uneventful, though Rick had clutched the armrests of his seat with white knuckles as the plane passed through some turbulence toward the midway point. Other than that, the long flight had gone much better than she'd had any right to expect.


After they retrieved their luggage from baggage claim, passed through customs and got their entrance visas stamped, they managed to get aboard the Heathrow Express train for the fifteen minute ride to Paddington Station in central London. A brief taxi ride later they arrived at the Soho Hotel, where Rick had booked them one of the Penthouse Suites.

Kate had begun to object to the lavish room until she walked inside. The décor was exquisite and the chairs were all done in purple. Her reaction was not dissimilar to the one she'd had when she had walked into the loft for the first time. The large floor to ceiling windows bathed the place in light and the view was astounding.

"I knew we'd need a place to decompress after the flight, and after being cooped up in the plane, I needed someplace light and open. We can get in a nap and get dinner in the restaurant later. Deal with some of this jet lag," Castle explained.

Kate decided to let it go. She'd fallen in love with the suite as soon as they walked into it, and Castle seemed to be happy and more relaxed. Rick was trying to teach her to live a little and they had come to a compromise after their wedding. Rick had agreed that he wouldn't go too far overboard trying to spoil her, and she had agreed not to raise a fuss when he did decide to spend money on her. Christmas and their anniversary were, of course, considered fair game. Other holidays, Kate had veto power over.

Rick may have toned down his womanizing playboy image to suit her, but Kate knew that, to some degree, he still had a certain lifestyle to live up to in order to keep his publisher and publicist happy. One ex-wife visiting the loft had been quite enough, she really didn't need an angry, overbearing Gina showing up at their door next, likely with the abrasive publicist from Queens in tow.

That he'd put his foot down with both Gina and Paula about not showing up to release parties with arm candy nor signing chests was proof enough of his commitment to their marriage.

She had remembered that phone call at their breakfast bar the week after the wedding quite well. She and Alexis had quietly fist-bumped when he got to the "...I'm happily married to the love of my life and I'm no longer signing other women's chests..." part of the phone conversation.

Alexis had told her how mercenary his wedding to Gina had been, especially toward the end. She'd even sent him to do a book signing on their honeymoon. The more Kate learned about his ex-wives, the less anxious and more secure she felt about her own marriage to Richard Castle. Having Alexis firmly in her cheering section certainly helped. No matter how much he grumbled about the two of them "conspiring against him in his own home."

Kate put a stop to her introspection when she realized just how tired and wrung out the two of them were and getting herself all worked-up thinking about his playboy image and his two ex-wives was not helping. They took a long, luxurious hot shower together then collapsed into bed, too jet-lagged and worn out even for sex; in spite of how hot and heavy they had gotten in the shower and their best intentions. Kate knew she would use some of that frustration to power herself through the next day.

As she fell asleep that night wrapped snugly in Rick's arms, her last thoughts were of what was to come the next morning when she would be confronting a man she hadn't seen outside of her nightmares in over five months. She closed her eyes to an uneasy sleep, haunted by images she had long kept buried.


September 14th 2014
8:45 AM London time

Kate woke with a start, a silent scream on her lips, the dank feeling of that dark basement all over her skin, her night clothes wet and clammy causing her to shiver uncontrollably. She'd been awakened only once before that night and it had taken Rick the better part of an hour to get her calmed down enough to go back to sleep.

She felt around in the darkened room for her husband but he was nowhere to be found, which ratcheted up her anxiety. In spite of his mild claustrophobia, Rick had pulled the drapes closed to make her feel more comfortable after waking from her nightmare last night. Her shooting and the basement had gotten crossed up in her dream and she had recalled being more than a little paranoid.

She relaxed exponentially when a moment later he turned the corner into the bedroom fully dressed with two cups of coffee in his hands. One look at her and he rushed to the bed, set the two steaming travel cups on the end table and swept her into his arms. She buried her face in his shirt as he held her, brushed a kiss to the top of her head then rested his chin into her hair while she composed herself, breathing in his scent deeply.

The solid warmth of his body helped Kate to relax and push away the images of Rick being tortured in her place... his head being shoved under the water while Simmons and Mr. Jones held her down and made her watch... simply to make her bear witness to his suffering because she didn't have the information they wanted.

"Same dream?" Rick whispered into her hair and she nodded her head, unable to form the words.

"I could go with you," he offered, "my appointment with Scotland Yard's records office isn't until after lunch. You don't have to do this alone."

"This time... I think I do babe," Kate said quietly, her voice not quite a whisper, but it wasn't quite the authoritative voice of Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD Homicide either, "I need to be in that room, and stare this bastard down... show him that Simmons didn't break me."

Jim Beckett's tale of little Katie Beckett refusing a night light as a child because she needed to stare down her fear of the dark herself sprung immediately to mind. She needed to face her fear on her own terms. He could respect that. She didn't want to appear weak, or give Pizer something to use against her like Simmons had years before.

"He didn't break you, love, you have nothing to prove, either to me or that son of a bitch," Rick said, his voice having taken on the low and dangerous rumble it had when he was protecting his own. Kate didn't have to see his face to know the dangerous glimmer in his eyes.

She had seen it before when he had beaten Hal Lockwood's face bloody four years ago, again when he'd asked to be alone with the getaway driver after Alexis' kidnapping and on that dark night on the bridge when Jerry Tyson had held a gun to her head. Very few people knew how violently dangerous Richard Castle could be when someone he loved was under threat. He could be very lethal when he needed to be. She was more afraid for him, that he would act out of anger and get himself in to trouble than she was of being in that room alone with Pizer.

"I need to prove it to me." she finally whispered, and left it at that.


New Scotland Yard
11:30 AM London Time

Detective Kate Beckett strode confidently into New Scotland Yard, her impossible four inch heeled boots clacking on the floor as she walked into the building like she owned the place, wearing the same crisp suit and severe hairstyle she had worn to her interview in Washington DC last year. Her badge was prominently displayed on her belt and her Glock 19 holstered in it's customary place on the back of her right hip.

She knew she would likely have to hand it over to security before being allowed out of the lobby, but she wasn't concerned. Even in the 12th she knew better than to bring a sidearm into an interrogation. But if John Pizer (aka"Mr. Jones) thought she was going to come before him like some doe-eyed frightened child, then he had another thing coming. Kate was taking back her power from him, just like she had with his boss the year before that, Rick's words from so long ago ringing in her ears.

"There is no such thing as fear in this dojo."

Kate didn't know how Rick had managed to wrangle the British Consulate and MI-6 to clear her to carry her service weapon in the UK, (he'd made it clear she didn't want to know, either) but she wasn't going to question it, nor was she sure if said "guy" had any connection to Rick's father, but she decided that was something she didn't want to know either. As long as Jackson Hunt, (or whatever name he went by this week) didn't show up to turn their lives upside down again anytime soon she was fine with it. She was touched that her husband had thought of her need to feel powerful in this situation.

After removing the magazine from her Glock (her backup piece was locked in the safe back at the hotel) and displaying there was no round in the chamber, Kate placed them both in the pistol box provided, signed the ledger, and pocketed the printout that would permit her to redeem it when her business was concluded. Shortly after that, a young, female constable appeared to escort her past the security cordon and into the elevator.

Today, Mr. Jones was going to meet a wounded animal in a dark basement, he was going to meet the huntress.


Homicide and Serious Crime Command
New Scotland Yard

Inspector Colin Hunt had arrived at his desk in Homicide an hour ahead of schedule. He had spent the better part of six weeks on suspension after his foray into New York, investigating the death of his god-daughter and Lady Harriet had thrown the book at him. The fact that she would have done much the same once upon a time - or if she'd had a shot at the rat bastard who had murdered her husband - was probably why his punishment hadn't been more severe.

That particular right nasty piece of work had been found floating face down in the Thames not a fortnight after the incident while she had still been on bereavement leave in official mourning. There were at least a half dozen people, two of whom were members of the royal family, who could vouch for the fact that she could not have been involved in that piece of business. He had spent the last several days since Pizer's apprehension in Heathrow Airport trying to solidly prove Pizer's connection to both murders with little success. He was a slippery bastard who certainly knew how to cover his tracks.

Arrangements had still been in the planning stages for the full honors funeral for which he was entitled. Lady Harriet's former boss, Sir Gordon Spikings KVCO (who had given the eulogy at Dempsey's funeral) had offered later to come out of retirement to investigate Dempsey's murder personally. She had refused Sir Gordon's offer and instead brought him back from suspension nearly two weeks early to take point on the case because she wanted somebody who could, as the Americans say, think out of the box.

Hunt had only personally met Inspector James Dempsey once or twice, but he thought the man was a pretty good chap for an older fellow, even a Yank. If his own experience with the NYPD was any indication, that seemed to be a common quality with them. But it wasn't the fact that an American police detective was coming in to interview his prisoner that had him up bright and early dressed more smartly that he usually did unless there was an official inspection, it was the identity of said Detective.

Kate Beckett.

The two of them had worked well together, especially when they had gotten away from that Mystery Writer who was carrying quite a bit of repressed feelings for her, considering he was seeing somebody else at the time. For a brief few minutes when they had that drink together he thought she'd been tempted to take him back to her place before she had shut herself down and fled the bar, a seedy little place called 'The Old Haunt".

By the time he had paid the cheque and made it outside,she was already piling into a taxi and was gone. He never thought he'd ever get the chance to see her again, but now fate had brought her to his side of the pond, and he hoped maybe they could pick up where they had left off. He was determined to give it a throw anyway. She was still listed as Beckett on her passport, so he figured he at least had a shot with her.

Little did he know his opportunity had long since passed.


Colin Hunt was on his feet as soon as Kate had stepped out of the elevator. Dressed for business, she seemed even more alluring to him as she had been in that full-length ball gown she had worn to the Gala at the British Consulate. He was actually even more besotted with her than before, if that were possible. It took a lot of self control to stay at his desk, not to mention sit down.

PC Mitra was leading Beckett straight to Lady Harriet's office and he knew better than to approach before he was asked for. He'd made that mistake once before - the day after he'd returned from New York to be precise - and it hadn't been pretty. She'd had to call in a lot of old markers from her SI-10 days simply to allow him to keep his job after the stunt he'd pulled at that Gala. He'd stormed into her office that day like a real wanker after everything she had done to save his job and she'd set him straight on that score before suspending him for six weeks.

He would have been on suspension longer if she hadn't needed him on the Pizer case. As much as he wanted to renew his acquaintance with the lovely Detective Beckett, he had far too much respect for the woman who was his boss to not defer to her judgment. His previous boss when he was still in uniform, DCI Tennyson would never have gone so far out on a limb for him like Lady Harry had done and he knew it.

To put it mildly, he owed her and he always paid his debts. His private life could wait a few minutes.


Kate's interrogation of John Pizer had been a lot more uncomfortable than she had realized , but not for the reason she had originally feared. John Pizer was not the monster he had appeared to be in her nightmares of that night in the basement. It hadn't taken a fool to realize that she had transferred most of her fear from that night from Simmons and "Mr. Harten" to him, because they were dead and he was still running loose.

It was the fact that Inspector Colin Hunt had somehow gotten it into his head that working one undercover case together as his "date", the drink they had shared and twenty minutes of seeing her at her lowest had somehow given him the right to take certain liberties with her.

He had asked her if they could go out for coffee or drinks later at least twice since Chief Inspector Makepeace had asked him into her office and assigned him to accompany her on her interrogation and then sent them on their way. She had, at first, thought to object, but hadn't wanted to rock the boat in an unfamiliar police force. By the time the interview was over and Kate had determined that he was likely not their prime suspect in her murder case, she had come to regret that decision.

She'd had to remove his hand from her knee at least three times when things had gotten heated between herself and Pizer. What would have been a calming gesture from Rick had had the opposite effect on her coming from Colin Hunt. By the time that Pizer had been lead out of the interrogation room, she'd had quite enough.

"What the hell is your problem, Hunt?" she hissed at him after pushing him against the wall.

"You were getting a bit emotional, Kate," Inspector Hunt replied, "I was trying to be supportive."

"In what universe did you think that our previous history entitled you to get handsy with me?" Kate seethed. As much as she wanted desperately to throw her marriage in his face, she wanted to handle this professionally. She was representing the NYPD in a foreign country and she was trying hard to be taken seriously.

"I would like to think that you can at least behave professionally in your own workplace, Inspector Hunt," Kate stated harshly, poking a finger in his chest for emphasis. "We worked a case and shared a drink three years ago, when I was feeling vulnerable. That does not entitle you to treat me like a piece of meat."

Colin Hunt had realized in that moment that he had misread Kate's signals since they had left Lady Harriet's office entirely. He had thought she had left an opening for him to pursue her, when in reality she was trying to be professional in spite of the fact that their previous experience together had made her uncomfortable now that she was on his turf. He still smarted a little at the rejection and wondered what had changed since that night in the American pub, but he was wise enough to let the matter drop for now. He knew from grim experience that the walls do in fact have ears.

As he followed Kate out of the interrogation room, he was stopped sharply from following her.

"Inspector Hunt, might I have a word?" Lady Harriet said, exiting the observation room.

"Oh, bollocks," Hunt thought to himself. From the expression on her face, things seemed to have gone from bad to worse.

"Mum,." he stated, bringing his posture straight as he turned to regard his superior officer. He could tell that she was not quite pleased with his less than professional performance either.

"If you are quite done trying to add to your social calendar today," she stated, her displeasure with his attitude quite plain in her icy tone, "you might want to try turning those keen observational skills of yours to more than Detective Beckett's athletic physique. If you had been paying attention, you might have noticed the wedding band on her left ring finger."

"Bugger me," he whispered under his breath. She had made her point, but it would seem that she wasn't quite done driving it home.

"So," she continued, "not only were you so keen on treating a visiting detective disrespectfully, which reflects poorly not just upon me, but upon the entire Met, were you also blissfully unaware that not only was she married, but that her husband is also inside this very building?"

"Bollocks," Colin whispered, a little louder than he had intended.

"Bollocks indeed," Lady Harriet stated firmly, the word sounding slightly more profane to Hunt coming from her, "I would suggest that the next time you happen to be in the same room with her, should she even desire to be anywhere near you after your display in there, that you apologize not just for yourself but on behalf of the entire unit and pray she doesn't decide to lodge a formal complaint. Given who her husband is, even I might not have enough pull to save your job this time. Understood?"

"Yes, mum," He replied, feeling like a prize ass, as Lady Harriet turned on her heel and left him to stew.

"Married?" he whispered under his breath, "To whom?" As he pondered the idea on his way back to his desk, the idea finally struck him to do a Google search where he quickly found her wedding announcement.

"Bollocks!" Hunt exclaimed under his breath when he read the wedding announcement attached to the photo of Kate and Richard Castle and thought to himself with a chagrined smirk, 'I guess the old sod pulled his head out of his arse after all.'


Soho Hotel
5:00 PM London Time

Kate had been waiting for the better part of an hour for Rick to get back to their suite. The interview with John Pizer had gone as well as could be expected, in spite of Colin Hunt's poor judgment and unprofessional advances. A brief chat with Lady Harriet had ended with an apology for her subordinate's behavior and her assertion that she would work to hasten John Pizer's extradition back to New York to face charges for money laundering and narcotics trafficking, not to mention conspiracy in the abduction and attempted murder of a New York City Police Detective. It had just been a long way to travel to have her suspect alibi out.

She was overjoyed beyond words to see Rick when he bounded into the suite, his messenger bag stuffed full of photocopies. He had obviously found something worth sharing.

"So, lover," Kate purred seductively, letting her hair fall around her shoulders and her unbuttoned blouse fall open to reveal her lacy black bra underneath, "find anything interesting in your research today?"

Castle let his messenger bag drop to the carpeted floor after pulling the door closed.

"Nothing more interesting than what I found waiting here for me," he replied, his eyes transfixed at the sight of her, "I may need investigate this lead further."

"Good answer." Kate said her eyes full of lust, and need.

"I'll tell you all about the... rest of it..." Castle whispered seductively in her ear as he walked her backwards toward the crisply made bed, slipping the blouse off of her shoulders to the floor, fingers moving to the front clasp of her bra, "later."

Further conversation drifted away in favor of wandering hands, discarded clothing and soft moans of pleasure as the Rick and Kate's bodies came together, washing away all traces of their day apart. The long difficult flight notwithstanding, Kate was truly glad her partner had insisted upon coming along.


Two hours later

Rick and Kate lay tangled in the sheets enjoying a meal brought to them by room service. Four rounds of intense sex had left them keyed up and hungry so Rick had called down. He hadn't even let the young lad who brought their meal into the room, simply paid him along with a generous tip. And they sat curled up enjoying a selection of finger foods and wine.

As promised, Rick was detailing what he'd found in Scotland Yard's files, including the confidential section where he'd had to turn over all of his electronic devices, including his cell phone. He had recorded everything on his tablet as soon as his things were returned to him. What he'd found here had sent him on a veritable treasure hunt of information about the 1888 Whitechapel killings. Including the mention of the two suspects he had found most notable in his research, namely, Montague John Druitt who had purchased a steamship ticket to New York within days of the last murder in 1888 and a man named James Kelly, who had been in and out of asylums prior to the killings but had disappeared from British records shortly afterward.

Kate lay curled in his embrace enjoying the way Castle weaved the information into his theories.

Though most of his theories had been absolute fiction, she had always secretly enjoyed seeing how his mind spun seemingly inconsequential or trivial facts into the most elaborate of theories. Though far-fetched, this theory was starting to grow on her. Since she had nothing better to go with after John Pizer had alibied out, she was content to enjoy the workings of her husband's mind.

"I went to the White Star Line offices off Trafalgar Square, after I left Scotland Yard," Castle continued, "and asked to peruse their records for the SS Republic. The lovely young lady in charge of the records room was a fan. Though I refrained from signing her chest out of deference to my daughter and my lovely wife..."

"You better have," Kate replied icily with her best death glare in place. An afternoon of spurning the propositions for dinner and/or drinks, and other inappropriate behavior by an apparently clueless Inspector Colin Hunt left her in no mood to hear Castle make jokes about the flailings of some British fangirl which, thankfully, he seemed to pick up on.

"...she was overjoyed to allow me to peruse their records." Castle finished, realizing he'd misread the situation and likely pushed his attempt at their usual banter a little too far.

"Not only was there no record of a James Kelly sailing on the Republic, but there was no record of anyone by that name on any White Star or Cunard ships on the North Atlantic run at that time."

"What happened to this Druitt character?" Kate asked. "Didn't he have to board the ship to appear on the passenger manifest?"

"Druitt's lifeless body was found floating in the Thames seven weeks later." Castle replied, producing the photocopied report. "James Kelly seems to have appeared out of thin air in New York Harbor when the Republic docked..."

Kate finished the sentence for him, "...then not four weeks later, the killings started up again in Rochester."

"I think we've established a connection," both of them said in unison as they looked into each other's eyes and shared a long searing kiss. They hadn't been this in sync since before Rick's car accident, and this time there was a "do not disturb" sign on their door, and Ryan or Esposito were on the other side of the ocean and could not interfere. Even their cell phones were blessedly silent.

They had a couple of days to kill before Scotland Yard and the U.S. State Department got back to them about extradition. They decided between them they would use the time as the respite from the case they sorely needed. Ryan and Esposito would get back to them if anything turned up.

Neither of them was ready to think about the plane ride back yet as they dove back into the blankets for another round of over-the-top monkey sex. Nor did they wish to give John Pizer or Colin Hunt even a cursory second thought for a couple days.

They decided to just be.


**Author's Notes** I would like to thank Liv Wilder for her many contributions to this chapter, including but not limited to the References to Lady Harriet Makepeace (from the 80's British TV show "Dempsey and Makepeace), the Soho Hotel (which actually exists, and looks exquisite from their website), her knowledge of London and putting up with this silly Yank asking her damn fool questions at odd hours of the night for a fanfic that wasn't really her cup of tea(pun intended).

As always, an enthusiastic thank you to Cofkett, my Beta, who was away volunteering her time at a summer camp for disadvantaged children with no WIFI this past weekend. So feel free to re-read ch 11 if you want to check it out with her corrections now that she's back online. And for Dtrekker for the lovely cover art. If I keep on pumping out long chapters like this, I just might make it to 50K by September 28th.

Historical notes:

Montague John Druitt (15 August 1857 – 31 December 1888) actually existed and was, in fact, found floating in the Thames River after being in the water for nearly seven weeks(which would have put his time of death shortly after the last of the murders). He was a possible suspect in the Ripper murders, but not considered a very credible one. The coroner's inquest listed his death as a suicide.

James Kelly (20 April 1860 – 17 September 1929) was also a genuine Ripper suspect. In a Discovery Channel program called "Jack the Ripper in America", retired NYPD cold-case detective Ed Norris claimed that James Kelly was Jack the Ripper, and that he was also responsible for multiple murders in cities around the United States.

The White Star Line steamship SS Republic also actually existed. She was launched on 4 July 1871, and set sail on her maiden voyage from Liverpool to New York City on 1 February 1872. She was the first White Star Line command of Captain John Smith (of Titanic fame) from 1887 until January of 1889 when she was sold to the Holland America Line and renamed SS Maasdam.

There you go, entertainment AND a history lesson...all in one place. Can I be any LESS of a history nut?

Enjoy.