This chapter follows Kate and Castle as they head back to the precinct to interview Jemma Nelson. Espo is with CSU carrying out a search and seizure at the girl's apartment, and Ryan is sulking (just a little) after Kate was mean to him. Anyway…
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of Andrew Marlowe and the team.
Chapter 37
They ordered way more pizza than they needed. That was their thing, well, one of them anyway, along with coffee, and, until recently, lingering looks, and stolen touches, and unrequited love. Castle carried the steaming, hot boxes into the precinct, drawing envious glances from staff and perps alike, the smell of warm cheese and pepperoni trailing behind them in an invisible cloud.
Kate had a telltale smear of grease glistening at the corner of her mouth from when she'd broken open one of the boxes and helped herself to a slice in the car on the way uptown. Castle waited until the elevator doors closed before he leaned over and licked it right off her face.
Kate stumbled back in surprise, and then raised a finger to her lips, gently touching the spot Castle had just licked, her eyes boring into his the whole time, pinning him in place.
Maybe not such a good move.
"You ready to show me that thing you say you can do with your tongue yet, Castle?" she asked, watching his Adam's apple pump up and down as he swallowed vigorously.
The elevator doors opened before he could stutter out a reply, and then Kate was gone, hips swinging as she made her way across the bullpen before he could register how she'd managed to get him back. In fact, the doors closed, and he ended up riding to the basement and back with the ever-cooling food still in his arms. She'd done a number on him, and damn if he wasn't proud of his girl.
"Where'd you get to?" asked Ryan grumpily, when Castle finally stood beside his desk, looking over at Kate, their eyes locked, humor sparkling between them. "Beckett said you had pizza."
"Kevin Ryan, you are not detoxing again, are you? 'Cause the wedding is over, buddy, and you almost lost it the last time you went on hunger strike. Low blood sugar is not a good look on you, Ryan. Pizza's right here, Beckett's treat," he said, sliding a pizza box across Ryan's desk.
Kate gave him a grateful smile, and mouthed 'thank you' at him, for trying to help her fix things with her younger colleague.
"Grab a coffee and some of this before we carry on interviewing Jemma?" Castle asked quietly, walking with her to the break room, carrying the slightly smaller stack of pizza boxes in his arms.
They sat shoulder-to-shoulder, thigh-to-thigh, on the couch in the break room, joking and squabbling over the merits of meat lovers' versus vegetarian. Kate was in the process of feeding Castle an extra stringy piece of cheese, her free hand at the nape of his neck to keep his head still, when Ryan entered the room. He pulled up short as the smiles dropped from the partners' faces, and they edged apart, only succeeding in drawing attention to their earlier proximity.
"Ever learn to knock, Ryan?" asked Kate, shaking her head once the snarky remark was out of her mouth. "Sorry, not your fault. What is it?"
"Eh, they've finished processing Jemma Nelson. She's in the cage downstairs. Frisky Frieda and Cherish are in there with her. So, you might want to spring her before those two scare her half to death" he suggested, referring to two of the precinct's seasoned hookers, frequent fliers at the 12th, who both had filthy mouths on them, and personal hygiene to match.
"Let's give her half an hour, let her stew a little," said Kate. "It might help break through that attitude of hers."
"You think she's going to want council?" asked Ryan.
"When I read her her rights she didn't flinch. Seen one cop show, seen 'em all, I guess. I don't think she understands just how real this is about to get."
"Kids are just so hard these days, think they're untouchable. It's just so depressing," said Castle mournfully, grateful that Alexis seemed to be swimming against the flow.
"You find out anymore about her background, Ryan?"
"DMV lists her next of kin as Margaret and Peter Nelson, the parents. I did a bit of digging, and turns out daddy's a bigwig in a software company and mommy's part of the country club set. They live in Westchester. Neither of them have a record, they're just wealthy, respectable, up-standing citizens, living the American dream. Daddy pays Jemma's tuition and the rent on her apartment, though god only knows what she's doing living in a fifth floor walk-up on Avenue D. It's a long way from Westchester, is all I'm saying," replied Ryan, when Kate gave him a curious look.
"So, Jemma's the rebel. Good girl gone bad?" asked Castle, thinking back to the Goth hairstyle, the pierced ears and tongue, the black nail polish and smudged black eyeliner; all attempts to make herself look different, to shrug off her upbringing, and piss off her parents no doubt.
"Well, I've been there," said Kate, rising from the couch to pick up their trash and pack up the leftover food.
"Cloves and wet flannel?" asked Castle, their verbal shorthand puzzling Ryan.
"Mmmm," said Kate non-committally. "Let's keep the parents on the back burner for now. She's over eighteen, and, if it's what she wants, we'll talk to her without a lawyer. I'm going to paint a fairly graphic picture of life inside, hopefully use that as a way to get her to open up. My gut tells me she's not as hard as she's making out. Anyone who can create art as beautiful as she can feels more deeply than most people. We just need to break her down to get to it."
"She had copies of Jane Eyre and Romeo and Juliet on her bookshelf, so I think you're on the right track," said Castle, never tired of witnessing how insightful Kate could be about complete strangers.
"Ryan, can you get hold of the A.D.A. for me? I need permission to misd her felony charge, just in case I need the leverage," said Kate, heading for the door.
They went back to their desks and Kate checked her voicemail and emails, while they gave Jemma Nelson time to think her situation over. Castle plopped down in his chair, checking in with Alexis and then Martha, before snatching up one of Kate's Post-It notepads to sketch and scribble on.
"What are you…?" asked Kate, leaning over to steal the yellow stickies away from him.
She stared at the graffiti he'd etched onto her stationery, her eyes growing wide, a blush spreading up her neck and across her cheeks, until she slid her eyes back up to meet his blue, too blue, pools.
"I'm keeping this," said Kate, her voice a little strangled with emotion as she peeled the top sheet off the pad and wedged it in between the pages of her daybook.
"How do you know it's about you?" he asked, teasing her, the attempt failing when she looked at him again, the unguarded tenderness in her eyes completely undoing him.
"Whoever she is, she's one lucky girl," said Kate, rising from her chair, leaving him bereft, already missing her presence as she headed to the ladies' restroom before beginning their interrogation.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Jemma Nelson looked even smaller, if that were possible, when one of the Uniforms brought her upstairs. She was hunched, fiddling nervously with the hem of her shirt, until she caught sight of Kate. The defiant look returned to her eyes immediately, and her shoulders squared up, spine uncurling, head raised, her small, perfect chin jutting out.
Kate gathered her papers together, nodding at Officer Gibson, and inclining her head towards an interview room, while she prepared herself.
The officer led Jemma to interview room 2, and settled her inside, offering her water, before closing the door to stand guard outside.
"Kate," said Castle, catching her arm as she was about to head towards the interview room.
Ryan looked up from his desk, watching them curiously.
"Yeah? You ready?" she asked, puzzled by the delay.
"Yes, it's just…" Castle trailed off, unsure how to express what he wanted to say.
"What, Castle? Something bothering you?"
"I just watched Jemma…the change in her when she saw you. I think maybe, and don't blow my head off, this is just a theory," he said, as Kate tapped her foot impatiently.
"Just what? What's your theory, Castle? She has to be arraigned in less than forty-eight hours and the clock is already ticking."
"I think maybe you remind her of home, of her past," he explained, watching Kate frown, not understanding. "Look at you. You're tall, glamorous, stylish, well-dressed, drop dead…"
Kate coughed to drown out the rest of Castle's soliloquy on the merits of Kate Beckett, painfully aware that Ryan's ears were flapping nearby. She took him by the elbow and steered him out into the hallway.
"Sweet as that was, Rick, you need to pull it together in there," she said, chastising him gently, where a kneecapping would have been her reaction of choice just a few weeks ago.
"That was not some love haiku…not that I don't…"
"Castle!"
He sighed. "I'm serious, Kate. Her demeanor totally changes around you. This rebellion thing she has going on, I think you trigger it. Maybe you remind her of her upbringing; the money, and the country club set, everything she's fighting to escape?" he suggested.
"Castle, just hold it right there," said Kate, raising a hand to silence him. "Have you ever seen me in a twinset and pearls, huh? Or dressed head-to-toe in…in Lily Pulitzer?" she spluttered.
When Castle shook his head, she said, "No, I didn't think so."
"I just mean you don't look like any cop I've ever known. You're hardly the big-assed, butch…"
"And just how many cops did you know? Before we met, I mean," asked Kate, her eyebrow arched, not mad exactly, but keen to explore his point for her own amusement, if nothing else.
"I…"
"Yes?"
"Well, none I guess. But look at Cagney and Lacey. Christine Cagney was a boyhood pinup of mine, but Mary Beth totally makes my point," he said, gesticulating enthusiastically.
"So, you're saying…what, exactly? That I'm the Christine Cagney of the 12th?" asked Kate, trying to keep her face straight.
"This is coming out all wrong," moaned Castle, running a hand through his hair.
"You don't say," replied Kate, deciding to take pity on him. "Look, I think I understand where you're coming from, and I'll bear it in mind when we talk to her. But it could just as easily be both of us…together. In locus parentis," suggested Kate.
Castle grabbed her hand, squeezing it briefly as an image of the two of them as parents, sometime in the future, appeared in his head. At the look of panic that crossed Kate's face, he dropped her hand and coughed, stepping away from her. Got to stop the over-sharing, he told himself. She's not ready to see your vision of happily-ever-after, Rick.
"Right, then. Let's get on with it," said Castle, a little awkwardly, turning back towards the bullpen, catching Ryan watching them again.
"Lead on, Mary Beth," said Kate, a little snort escaping her lips when she saw Castle' shoulders twitch, the difficult moment now behind them.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Kate entered the interview room first. Old habits were hard to break, and new ones, specifically Castle's hand at the small of her back, were welcome, despite the setting.
"Jemma, good to see you again. Have my colleagues been taking good care of you? Can we get you something to drink? Water, coffee, a soda, perhaps?" asked Kate breezily, watching the shutters come down just as Castle had predicted, the girl's hands clasping together on the tabletop, knuckles turning white with tension.
Silence.
Castle pulled out a chair, scraping the metal legs against the floor, breaking the oppressive quiet of the soundproof room. Kate let her folder slap down against the table, pulled out her own chair, and sat down opposite the girl.
"I have some questions for you. But first, I want to check that you understood your Miranda rights when I read them to you earlier?"
Jemma nodded slowly, then looked back down at the table, her face betraying no emotion.
"So, just to confirm. You're happy to proceed without legal representation? Please answer for the tape, Jemma."
"Yes," said the girl, sounding exasperated.
"Fine. Glad we cleared that up. Now, you have been charged with a class E felony today, as I explained at your apartment. Your previous violation for drug possession counts as a first offense. That means that you're now looking at a mandatory six months prison term, plus a fine. At the informal arraignment the judge will confirm the charges and decide whether or not you will be eligible for bail. If you cannot make bail, or if bail is denied, though that's unlikely in this case, you will be held on remand at a nearby facility until your case can be heard by the court. Are you with me so far?" asked Kate, checking for any level of understanding.
When Jemma remained impassive, Kate continued. "The preliminary hearing usually takes place 7 to 10 days after arraignment. You'll be able to enter a plea at that point. At a subsequent hearing, roughly a month after that, the judge will decide how much additional time to add onto that sentence, up to a maximum of four years. Jemma?"
Still no reaction.
"You're what, twenty-two?" asked Kate, consulting the file in front of her, and then leaning back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest. "So, I guess getting out of prison when you're twenty-six doesn't seem that bad to you, right? You'll still have your best years ahead of you. Eh, Jemma?"
The girl shrugged but never looked up. Castle shifted uncomfortably in his seat, torn between throttling her and pleading with her to save herself.
"Wrong!" barked Kate loudly, slamming her hand down on the table for emphasis, causing both Castle and Jemma to jump. "You might only be four years older when you get out of jail, but those years inside are like dog years, Jemma. You will be a totally different person. Changed forever. The things you'll have seen, the experiences you'll have endured at the hands of your fellow inmates. You think male prisons are bad places, Jemma? Huh? 'Cause let me tell you, women are more than capable of rape and a whole other spectrum of nastiness that men haven't even thought of yet, I can assure you," said Kate coldly.
At this last statement Castle risked a glance at his partner, wondering just what terrible things she knew, what crap she carried around in her head. He turned back to watch Jemma when Kate continued her onslaught.
"That's one thousand, six hundred and forty-two days of powerlessness. Thirty-nine thousand, four hundred and eight hours of not being able to shower when you want to, and then being too afraid to, when someone tells you that you can. And all those hours in-between spent doing little or nothing. No gallery trips, no control over what you watch on TV, eating only what you're given, and sharing a cell with some brick of woman called Steve, who snores, steals your care packages, and will let you sleep alone in the bottom bunk once a week if you're really lucky."
If she didn't have a point, Castle would have laughed right now, but Kate's words were starting to have an effect. Jemma was biting her bottom lip, and Castle could feel her knee bobbing up and down under the table, shaking it, making Kate's folder vibrate against the surface.
"So, Jerry Falconio," said Kate, deciding it was time to change direction, keeping the girl on her toes, off balance. She withdrew a crime scene photo of the deceased from the folder and slapped it down in front of Jemma. "Want to tell me how you know him?"
Jemma's eyes flew to the photograph, widening, a look of panic and disgust appearing on her face, before she quickly turned the image over and slid it back towards Kate, a tiny whimper escaping her lips.
"I already told you. I don't know him. I've never seen that guy before, I swear," she said, her voice more plaintive this time.
"He was an accountant, Jemma. A husband, a brother, and a father of two daughters," said Kate, turning the photograph over again and sliding it back towards the girl, forcing her to look at it. "He was strangled and left outside to hang, until the life drained out of him. Your fingerprint was found on the communication that lured him to his death. I want to know why and I want to know now!" said Kate, banging the table again.
If Jemma was considering opening up, then she had the best poker face Castle had ever seen. She perhaps looked a little paler. However, under these lights, everyone looked bled of color. Except Kate, it appeared. She now had two bright spots of high color on her cheeks, betraying the frustration she was feeling towards this girl. Her efforts to help her, by scaring her, barely seemed to touch the surface.
"You know, our lab is already testing the ink and paper we took from your apartment. So it won't be long before we can prove conclusively that these items were used to carry out this crime, and premeditation just makes things a whole lot worse. Do you want me to add murder to that charge sheet?"
No reply.
"Well, do you?" asked Kate, her tone cold and challenging.
"No," replied Jemma, a barely audible response.
"So, start talking. I want to hear how your fingerprint ended up on an invitation sent to Jerry Falconio, an invitation that drew him to the scene of his own death. I want to know why the calligraphy on that invitation bears a striking resemblance to your own style, and I want to know why you seem wholly disinterested in helping yourself here, Jemma? Because, I cannot stress strongly enough how big a hole you are in right now. So, if I were you, I'd stop digging and start talking."
Before Jemma could utter another word, there was a tap on the two-way glass. Kate rose from her chair, leaving Castle alone with the student as she went to answer the door. Captain Montgomery was outside. He'd evidently been listening in to the interview, and now he wanted a word. Kate poked her head back into the room, and called Castle to join them.
Montgomery's face was stony and serious. "Wrap this up, detective," he said, sounding tired and weary. "Send her to central booking before her rich daddy shows up with some fancy lawyer in tow, screaming harassment and calling for your badge."
When Kate opened her mouth to protest, he held up a hand to silence her.
"You've got her on the drugs charge. Pass it to the A.D.A. and move on. Until you get forensics back on the items you seized from her apartment, there's nothing to be gained from brow beating her. The girl isn't prepared to talk, that much is clear, but she's not going anywhere. Once she's in the system we can get access to her at any time."
"But, sir, I was just getting started," said Kate, only to be interrupted again as Ryan appeared at her elbow holding out a cellphone.
"Beckett, it's Espo. I think you're gonna want to hear this," said Ryan, handing her the phone.
Kate turned her back on the little group outside the interview room, and wandered away from them a little to take the call.
"Espo, I hope you have good news for me? 'Cause I could use some, right about now."
"Well, I don't know about good, Beckett. But you're gonna want to see this. We just broke into the boyfriend's closet, and let's just say I'm not surprised the guy wanted to keep his stuff under lock and key. I think you should come down here and see this for yourself, before CSU packs it all up."
"We'll be right down," said Kate, walking back over to Castle and instinctively taking hold of his sleeve.
Since when was that okay?
"We have to go. Esposito has something to show us. They opened up the hall closet. Ryan, can you put Jemma back in holding for now? Sir, I don't think we should pass her over to central booking just yet. Let's wait until Castle and I have seen whatever it is that Esposito has found in her apartment. We still have plenty of time left on the clock. Just…trust me?" asked Kate, and Castle felt for her, having to beg her Captain to trust her judgment again after he'd messed things up.
"Go," said Montgomery, after a beat. "But keep me in the loop, Beckett. If what you find down there has no bearing on Jemma's interrogation, call Ryan and we'll move her on."
"Thank you," replied Kate, nodding in appreciation at her boss. "Ryan, call me if the lab comes back with anything conclusive on the ink or the paper," she instructed, a figure in motion, back at her desk now, gathering together her bag and her jacket, her keys and her partner, and hurrying for the exit.
A/N: Another cliffhanger of sorts. Please don't hate me. Such is the life of an NYPD detective (well, in my make-believe little world, anyway).