Chapter 29

The Case of Ghosts

Part 1

Being a master of the macabre I am no stranger to the numerous ways a person can be killed. Since I have been shadowing Detective Beckett I have added some more ways people meet unfortunate demises at the hands of other people. I could list all the gruesome ways people have been murdered but if I did then you would be bringing up your lunch or dinner or something, so, I will spare you that.

Apart from the gruesome, there are the unusual. Ones which leave you scratching your head in wonder. This was one such case where the victim was pushed off their mortal coil in a most unusual manner.

The commencement of the case had its prelude at Casa Castle. I had invited Captain Montgomery, the boys and Detective Beckett over to the loft for a poker night. It had been a busy couple of weeks and I felt that they were all need of a poker night. Much to my delight they all accepted the invitation.

Mother who had nothing on this night joined us at the table to even the numbers up and entertained us in between hands with anecdotes from her years treading the boards and sprinkling in some of the more embarrassing stories from my younger years. Thank you Mother.

I have to say that it was quite an enjoyable evening where we could all relax, have a beer, exchange a bit of good natured trash talk, win a bit of money, lose a bit of money, discuss some cases, listen to Mother regale us with some of her more risqué tales from the stage, sit there with a red face as Mother recounted the tale of the time I almost burnt down the kitchen. No, you don't need to hear that story. It's best if it's only told once every couple of decades.

The witching hour was almost upon us. Esposito began to deal out the cards to everyone.

"Alright, everyone, last hand for the night." He announced.

"Oh phooey!" Mother said as she glanced at her watch. "It's not even midnight."

"Some people have jobs to go to in the morning." I reminded her.

"Oh, my son, the working stiff." She intoned, over dramatically I might add.

Looking around the table I saw everyone grinning, especially Beckett. She seemed to enjoy watching me squirm. Now there's a surprise.

Mother glanced at the cards she had been dealt and made a face.

"Ugh, phooey. I fold." she announced and pushed her cards away from her.

"If you don't mind me saying Ms R, you fold a lot." Ryan grinned.

"I just don't believe in stringing along a bad hand." Mother replied. "Why waste time?"

That was a philosophy Mother applied not only to poker but to husbands and boyfriends.

"Actually," I said with a small grin on my face. "Mother's game isn't Texan Hold 'Em. It's strip poker. Keeps things humming along, if you know what I mean."

"Well, frankly, I prefer Strip poker because even when you lose, you win." Mother said. She winked at Beckett who laughed at the remark.

"Raise twenty." Ryan said and tossed his chips onto the pot.

"Call." Montgomery replied.

My eyes were drawn to Beckett. Her face was a mask as she glanced at her cards and considered what to do. Setting the cards down she reached a decision.

"Make it a hundred." She announced. She tossed the chips into the middle.

"A hundred bucks?" Esposito questioned.

"Man up, bro." Beckett challenged.

The Captain called again.

"Really?" Esposito complained. He made a face. "I'm out."

Ryan joined his partner in folding.

"What about you, Castle? You're already in for the blind. Not scared of a little action?" Beckett taunted.

"Action, is my middle name." I replied with a grin.

I picked up chips worth one hundred dollars and tossed them onto the pile.

Mother leaned closer to Beckett and smiled.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, he's bluffing." Mother said. "Whenever he blinks too much, it means he's got a lousy hand."

"Mother." I chided.

"Well..." Mother gave me a shrug of her shoulders.

"Alright, here we go." Esposito announced and proceeded to flop three cards onto the middle of the table.

The cards that Esposito flopped over were a pair of sevens and a deuce. On the inside I was doing cartwheels because I now had a full house. The pot was all but mine. I cast a quick look over to Beckett and caught her quickly checking her cards. I caught an ever so brief twitch of her eyebrows. I'm sure none of if the others sitting at the table caught it but I did.

Observing Detective Beckett had become more than an exercise in research, it had become more than a hobby. It was one of my favourite pastimes. That ever so brief twitch of her eyebrows told me that the cards that had been flopped onto the table had not been the ones she had been hoping for.

"There it is." Esposito declared.

"Uh-oh." Mother said, looking at me.

"What?" Beckett inquired.

"He's not blinking, but now he's tapping." Mother confided to Beckett. "This means he might have the nuts."

I was tapping on the cards as I was thinking but I did not appreciate Mother revealing that to everyone else at the table. I was also a little disconcerted about the terminology that she used. I did not call her out on that because I was thinking about what to do.

Beckett looked at me. I grinned back at her.

"What's the matter?" I asked her. "You're not afraid of a little action, are you?"

It was amusing to throw her words back in her face just to see her reaction. Beckett regarded me a moment.

"All in." She announced. 'Challenge accepted Mr Castle', the look she gave me seemed to say.

I watched as she pushed the healthy sized collection of poker chips that she had accumulated during the evening, across the table shoving it against the already large pile that had been sitting in the pot.

"Whoa" Esposito gasped.

"Ooh! Take him down Beckett." Montgomery said with a laugh.

"Yeah, make him pay." Esposito cheered.

"Can't write your way out of this one, huh, Castle." Ryan chuckled.

I'm a pretty good poker player. Who am I trying to kid? I'm a very good poker player. Good enough to have played in some of those big money poker tournaments in Vegas, winning even one of them. One thing about playing poker is that I don't like to lose but being a very good poker player, I don't lose all that often.

I glanced down at my cards. It was probably one of the best hands I had for the entire evening. I looked across the table to where Beckett was sitting. Her stoney-faced expression told me a lot. It told me that she had a bad hand and she was trying to bluff me.

So it was just me and Beckett, all in. What to do? Well, I have to tell you, for the first time I could ever remember I found that I did not want to win. If my writer crew poker buddies ever found out about what I was thinking they would have slapped my face. I looked at my cards one final time. So let them slap my face, I thought. I folded as I put a suitably disappointed look on my face.

Both Captain Montgomery and the boys cheered Beckett on her victory. The delighted look on Beckett's face as she scooped up the winning pot was well worth throwing away a good hand, a winning hand.

"Maybe some one should change their middle name to 'loser'" Beckett chuckled.

"Loser." Captain Montgomery chorused and laughed.

"What can I say?" I shrugged unhappily. "This just wasn't my night."

I rose from my chair and gathered up the empty beer bottles and took them into the kitchen.

While everyone was starting getting ready to leave, Beckett's phone started ringing. She stopped gathering her chips and answered the call.

"Yeah, we'll be there in twenty." Beckett told the caller and then rang off. She saw the boys looking at her expectantly.

"Homicide on Henry Street." She announced.

"I'll take care of this for you." Mother said as she started stacking Beckett's winnings.

"Thank you." Beckett said with a smile.

"Well, at least you guys are already downtown." Montgomery remarked.

The boys had gotten to their feet and were pulling on their coats. They did not appear too enthusiastic to have gotten a late night call out to a homicide.

"But it's after midnight!" Mother declared.

"Murder never sleeps, Ms R." Ryan informed her.

"Yeah and neither do we." Esposito said, sourly.

I was just returning from my little trip to the kitchen when I saw the guys getting ready to leave. I also noticed that Captain Montgomery was still sitting. My eyes lit up with excitement.

"Whoa, did someone say 'murder'?" I said unable to hide my excitement. "Hold on, I'll get my coat!"

I turned and dashed in the direction of the hallway closet.

"Look at him, all exited." Esposito smirked.

"Yeah, like a kid at Christmas." Beckett observed, with a smile on her face.

"With a dead body under the tree." Ryan added.

That last remark made Beckett laugh.

Having put on my coat I was holding open the front door for Beckett and the boys. I followed them out after waving to Mother and Captain Montgomery.

XXX

The location of the murder scene was the bathroom of a SRO of a rundown looking hotel not far from Chinatown. On arriving we found Dr Lanie Parish standing by the bathtub where the body lay, making notes on her clipboard. The body of a woman was floating in some thick black liquid that seemed to fill most of the tub.

"Is that motor oil?" Beckett asked the medical examiner.

"Looks like it." Lanie replied. "But I'll have to pump out the tub and run some tests to be sure."

Esposito had moved over and opened a wooden cupboard and found it full of empty motor oil containers. Quite a few empty containers. He picked a couple up in his gloved hands and showed them to us.

"It's motor oil alright." He informed us. "10w-40. Empties in the closet."

"What kind of freak drowns a woman in motor oil?" Ryan asked, distaste writ large across his face.

That was good question Detective Ryan posed. I was looking at the body in the tub. Only the woman's face was above the surface. It reminded me of that scene from Star Wars where Han Solo was encased in carbonite. I shook off that thought and returned to pondering the question that Ryan had posed.

Like I said there are some methods of committing murder that leave you scratching your head in wonder. Well I offered up an answer to the detectives.

"Someone's trying to send a message." I announced.

Beckett and I left the boys in the bathroom while we headed downstairs to speak to the night manager. The lobby of the hotel looked seedy and in desperate need of a fresh coat of paint which judging by things would be any time soon.

The night manager was stationed behind the front desk which was caged, I'm not sure what for to protect him from some of the inhabitants of this establishment or them from him. He looked like your run of the mill jaded night manager straight out of central casting, in his mid forties, overweight, unshaven and a bored expression permanently etched on his face.

"I already told the uniforms, once people check in, I don't know what they do up there." Night manager said.

"Her purse was missing and she didn't have an ID on her." Beckett said. "Any chance she paid for the room with a credit card?"

The night manager moved over to the ledger sitting on the bench and flipped through the pages. Finding the right page he gave it a quick look before he answered.

"All I can tell you is, whoever rented the room on Friday paid cash for a five day stay." The night manager said. He looked up at Beckett. "They were supposed to be out tonight, so near midnight I went up to check if the place was empty, and I found her in the tub. Gonna be a bitch to clean it."

Night manager guy's compassion for the demise of a fellow human being was so underwhelming.

"So if anybody was meeting her her..." I said.

"It's not like the guests arrive and I ring them up." Night Manager guy snapped. "This aint the Ritz."

"Clearly." I shot back.

"What about tonight?" Beckett asked him. "Anyone strange coming or going?"

Night manager guy shook his head.

My attention was suddenly drawn to a transvestite hooker who saunted past the front desk. He/she was well over six feet tall with a fake blonde wig, a mini skirt that should have been a crime for being so short, high heels and an unshaven face. The sight sent a shudder through me.

"Hey Bill." Said the hooker in a low as he/she walked past.

"Jasmine. How they hanging." Night manager guy replied nonchalantly.

I turned to look at Beckett. She did not seem too perturbed at the sight of the tranny hooker.

"I think he just described half their clientèle." I remarked.

An amused smile swept across the face of Detective Beckett as she took another look at the departing hooker. After getting all we could get from the murder scene and the rest of the hotel it was getting on to pretty late. Beckett called a halt to proceedings and sent us all home.

On returning home to the loft sleep proved a little elusive initially. The sight of 'Jasmine' kept popping into my head, disturbing my sleep. Thankfully I had a surefire standby to send me off to dreamland. The memory of Kate Beckett in that hot red dress. Better than counting sheep, let me tell you.

XXX

Early next morning Beckett and I found ourselves in the morgue standing by the table where the body of the woman lay. I noticed that the body looked far different than what we had seen early this morning. She had been cleaned up and given a little more dignity than her killer had done.

What I also noticed was that Dr Parish looked as fresh as daisy and I could not help but wonder if she had gotten any sleep. More likely she had worked through the night doing the autopsy and have a report ready for Beckett and then she would head off home.

"Unidentified woman, early forties. Good health." Lanie reported. "She's wearing a wedding ring, but there's no inscription."

"Cause of death?" Beckett asked.

"Drowning." Lanie replied. "And there's a nasty contusion on the back of her head."

"So somebody hit hear hard enough to know her out and then gave her a motor oil bath." Beckett surmised.

Lanie reached over to a side table and picked up a plastic evidence bag and held it up so that we could see.

"And I found this in one of her pockets." Lanie said. "Ticket stub for the Metro-North. Our victim took the train from Westchester yesterday morning."

That piece of news raised my eyebrows.

"Westchester to lower Manhattan? That's a long way to go for a lube job." I remarked. I turned to look at Beckett and grinned. "See, when married ladies go to cheap hotels, it's always about sex."

"Or drugs." Beckett replied swiftly.

"The sample in one of the glasses tested positive for Remian." Lanie announced.

"The sleeping pill?" Beckett said, her brow rising up a little.

"Mm-mmm" Lanie nodded.

"This was not a crime of passion." I asserted. "That room was rented for five days, and someone stocked the place up with motor oil. That takes planning."

"And nice suburban ladies don't just take the train into the city and return without somebody noticing." Beckett added.

Thanking Lanie for the information she had provided, Beckett and I left the morgue and returned to the precinct.

XXX

Once back at the precinct I assumed my favourite past time, watching Beckett. She was at her desk doing some work and I was sitting in my chair beside her desk nursing a cup of coffee and watching her.

Esposito approached Beckett holding a sheet of paper in his hand. Beckett had given him to job of checking out all the missing person reports for the past week or so. Judging from the small grin on his face, I got the feeling he had struck pay dirt in his search.

"Irvington PD logged a call last night from a Michael Goldman." He announced on his arrival. Both Beckett and I looked up at him. "Wanted to report his wife, Allison missing. Clothing and description match. Said she went into the city for work and never came back. Said he 'knew' something was wrong."

"Poor guy." I said. "Unless...he's the killer, and he's covering his tracks by calling the police before the body is discovered."

"How about we question him before we convict him?" Beckett said arching an eyebrow at me.

Beckett rose to her feet and picked up her folio and looked at Esposito.

"You got an address?"

Esposito passed over to Beckett a folded piece of paper. Beckett nodded her head in thanks.

I quickly set down my cup of coffee and got to my feet and fell into step beside Beckett as we headed out of the bullpen.

XXX

The trip up to Westchester county and Irvington in particular was uneventful. I was actually on my best behaviour. Hard to believe, I know but it's true. I did not feel the need to change the music station that Beckett had playing. We actually spent the time discussing the case.

Michael Goldman was a man of average height, aged in his early fifties. Grief covered his face as he studied two photographs of his wife Allison that Beckett had passed to him to look at. One of the photos was one of Allison laying on a slab in the morgue.

We were sitting in the Goldman's living room. It was a large room furnished with furniture that could be bought at any discount furniture place. It was neat and tidy with the right amount of mementos and family photographs.

"I don't understand." Goldman said looking up from the photos. "Where did you say she was found?"

"At an SRO in the city." Beckett informed him.

Goldman frowned in confusion.

"It's a single room occupancy." She explained. "It's like a transient hotel."

"Why would she be in a place like that?" Goldman asked.

"Can you think of anyone she might have been meeting?" I asked.

"No." Goldman said firmly. He glanced at Beckett before speaking again. "My wife and I were happily married, Detective. We had no secrets."

"You told the police last night that your wife went into the city for her job?"

Goldman nodded his head. "She was working part time." He said. "We'd some financial setbacks last few years. I'd been laid off. Then we had to give up the apartment."

"How did your wife handle the suburbs?" I inquired.

A wave of grief passed over Goldman's face before he spoke telling us that his wife missed the city. So a couple of months ago she got herself a job working three days a week at a clothing boutique in Manhattan, a little place on 72nd called Lehanes. Goldman paused again as he was overcome with emotion. Gathering himself he went on to say that she had told him that working there reminded her of the good old days.

Beckett asked Goldman a couple more questions before winding up the interview. Before we jumped into the car to head back into the city Beckett pulled out her phone and made a call to Esposito and told him to contact Allison's employer.

XXXXX

Your thoughts on this effort would be greatly appreciated, Dear Reader.

Con