The Marlowe Prep Murder

Chapter 20

"I found a newspaper account of the death of Laurie's parents," Rick announces as Kate makes the drive from Tenafly back to New York City.

"Probably just the official story, but what does it say?" Kate queries.

"Not so official. This reporter is raising an eyebrow. She says it was a dry day, no reason for a vehicle to skid. The sun was behind the car, so it wouldn't have been in Mr. Morelli's eyes. According to the M.E., there were no signs of driver intoxication or illness. And there were unaccounted for marks in the paint on the driver's side door. The article suggests that the Morelli's might have been forced off the road and calls on the police to investigate further."

"According to Laurie, they didn't," Kate recalls.

"Maybe the investigation was short-circuited somehow. This lists the name of the detective in charge, Martin Simpson."

"Right. I can check him out as soon as we get back to the precinct."

Kate scrolls through the information on the screen of her desk computer. "I have an address for Simpson. It's an assisted living facility out in Flushing."

"Anything else about him?" Rick wonders. "Something that might make him susceptible to the mob? Mother has several friends, working actors, not stars, who wanted to go into assisted living but couldn't afford it, at least not around the city. Some of those places can run to some real money. Would a cop's pension cover that?"

"It could if he didn't pick a luxury institution. If we live long enough to draw a pension, we make out OK."

Rick presses a quick kiss to her hair. "Nice to know, if my books ever stop selling and I have to depend on your largesse. So as a cop, he could probably afford to retire at some decent level of comfort. Anything else?"

"Nothing here, but I can't get access to personnel files without special permission, and we don't have enough to justify a request. We'll have to see what we can get out of Simmons."

Rick consults his watch. "It's almost 1 o'clock. If we're going out to Flushing, there's a Japanese barbecue place I've been meaning to try that's right on the way."

Kate grabs for her purse. "Sounds like fun."

Martin Simpson's bushy white brows descend toward clear blue eyes. "A car accident with a couple named Morelli," he repeats. "Yeah, I remember that one, but there was a lot of heat to forget about it."

"Heat from where?" Kate asks.

Simpson's thin shoulders shrug. "Upstairs somewhere. That's about all my watch commander said. I was supposed to wrap it up as fast as possible and move on. But you know, things were different back then. Some of the brass had their hands out big time. Some of the guys lower down did too. If whoever caused that accident spread the green around, they could have had me called off easy."

"So you believed someone caused the accident?" Kate presses.

"I was sure of it. The Morelli's car looked like it had been sideswiped by another vehicle, one with blue paint. The victims' car was green, an Oldsmobile Cutlass. There were skid marks on the bridge showing that Mr. Morelli had tried to brake hard to keep from going over the side of that bridge. I put all of that in my initial report. Then my sergeant informed me that the case was over and put me on another assignment. There was nothing more I could do."

"Do you have any idea what the blue vehicle might have been or who was driving it?" Castle inquires.

"As a matter of fact, I do. After the newspaper account came out, I got a call from a woman who claimed to have seen what happened. She described a blue Camaro. She got a partial plate too. I kept those letters, EVK, on a card in my desk for over a year, in case the pressure eased up, and I could revisit the case. I never got the chance. After a while, I had to let it go."

Kate leans forward in her seat. "And the driver?"

"The witness could only tell me that it was a woman with dark hair. After all these years, if she's still around, you'd have a hell of a time tracking her down."

Castle grins at Simmons. "Kate's cracked harder nuts than that."

"Doesn't the DMV just keep accident records for four years?" Castle asks as Kate threads her way through traffic, back to Manhattan.

"If you're talking about the abstract of a person's driving history, it only goes back that far," Kate agrees, "but lifetime records go back forever. The DMV even keeps them for deceased drivers. We know what Vera looked like from the picture we got from the school. We have to find someone with that description who drove a blue Camaro with that partial plate. Simmons was right. It will be a hell of a job, but at least we know the year. The only problem is, if we're trying to fly below the radar on this, it will be dicey to get the access we need."

"How about Izzy?" Rick wonders. "You know he can get into anything, and he isn't about to talk to the mob or much of anyone else."

"That's a great idea, Babe! Can you give him a call?"

With a triumphant sweep of his arm, Rick holds up his phone. "You have only to ask."

Izzy Seymour looks up, startled to see Agent Grey standing in front of him. "How do you do that?"

"Trick of the trade," Grey replies. "The message you left said something about a convergence of events."

"Right," Izzy acknowledges. "A case Rick Castle and his wife are working on and the newest round of Russian cash pouring into American investments. They're both tied to the Cardano family. Rick just asked me to dig up some stuff going back to the '60s, and we're also on top of what's going down with Borya Morozov and Nico Cardano right now. It all leads straight to the Old Man."

"The Cardano's have always had their fingers in lots of pies. That's the FBI's business, not mine. What's the problem?" Grey inquires.

"The problem is that the Old Man has a watch out on anything having to do with Nico. Your guys can take care of themselves, but Rick and Kate may be putting their feet in it."

"Grey shakes his head. "So, what else is new? If all of our agents had the dedication to their assignments that Kate Beckett does, Putin and his circle wouldn't have nearly the foothold in this country that they do. And Castle also seems to get the job done. But as it happens, we are aware of friendly eyes watching out for those two. And if the Old Man puts a price on their heads, we suspect our asset will intervene. But, to be on the safe side, can you make sure the Cardanos stay unaware of whatever information you'll be assembling for those two?"

Izzy snorts. "I don't leave breadcrumbs, except from my deli sandwiches. And by the way, our deal has always been that when you show up here, you're supposed to bring me one. Where is it?"

Grey pulls a paper bag from beneath his coat. "Pastrami on your special bread."