The Marlowe Prep Murder
Chapter 23
"We should probably leave a message on Violet Curtis' website," Rick considers, offering the last of the morning's strawberries to Kate. "Then she'll have to contact us to set up a meeting."
Johanna suddenly pops into view. "If Tim Scroggins' killer sets up the meeting, that puts her in control. If she does get wind that you're after her, you two could be walking into a trap."
"That's true," Kate acknowledges. "We should meet with her on neutral ground, like a Java Hut."
"Or your favorite diner," Castle suggests. "And we should make sure she isn't wearing one of those rings with a secret compartment. We don't want her sprinkling poison on our french fries."
Kate rolls her eyes. "Babe."
"Just be careful," Johanna urges.
"We will, Mom," Kate promises.
Rick taps a key on his computer with a flourish. "Message sent. Now we'll see how hard Violet's willing to work to earn a fat commission. I just hope she's more interested in selling us an overpriced condo than finding us a home 6 feet under." He stretches out his arms, cracking his knuckles. "While we await her response, we can get back to Bat'leth Boy."
"Good idea," Kate agrees. "So far, we have a mining area in Russia near an enclave with families suffering from a strange neurodegenerative disorder. But how does all of that tie in with Tom Namon being killed with his own bat'leth?"
"We need to take a look at what else is in the vicinity," Castle asserts. "Maybe it's on Google Earth. Can't hurt to check." Rick quickly brings up the application. "Hmm, views of part of that area are blocked. That's suspicious in its own right. But we may be able to get captures from one of our spy satellites."
"How are we going to do that?" Kate wonders.
"Gray showed me a few tricks to plan out some of my trips for his agency. I can't get into the super-secret stuff, but I can access the pictures from general surveillance. We can start with the coordinates of the open pit and work out from there. I just have to remember. Got it! So here's the mine. Moving toward the settlement where Namon probably lived. Ooh! What are those buildings? They don't look like part of the mining operation."
Kate regards the screen. "They look high-tech, like a lab or something."
Castle points. "There's something written on the structure in the center of the complex. Zooming in. Russian, of course. Can you read it?"
Kate leans toward the screen. "Metallurgicheskiy Tsentr, Metallurgy Center."
Castle grins, pulling Kate to him for a kiss. "That's the last piece I need to complete the story!
"Listen. Tom Namon was born in the enclave near the mining operation. He's an inquisitive, science-minded little boy. He researches what's making his relatives sick, and perhaps starting to make him a little ill too. Somewhere along the line, he settles on the raw diet as a treatment. He also starts seeing Star Trek episodes or films and feels a kinship with the Klingons. He's not only into eating his food raw, he develops a fascination for all things associated with the species.
"Like others living around a mine, Namon becomes educated in metallurgy and gets himself a job working in the Metallurgy Center. His task is to develop a light but tough version of aluminum. Klingon-centric that he is, he considers the bat'leth, mevak, and other Klingon weapons as perfect vehicles to test his alloys.
"He's successful, too successful. The Russian government wants to use his alloy for aggression against other countries. In the spirit of a Federation-spawned Klingon, Namon considers the Russian plans dishonorable. He doesn't want his invention used for what his masters have in mind. So, I don't know how, but he defects. Perhaps he visits a metallurgy conference and is approached by an American agent.
"Namon comes to the United States, turning over the formula for his alloy and bringing his beloved Klingon paraphernalia. The CIA or whoever, sets him up with the Namon identity— he would have appreciated the name. Then, for the most part, he flies below the radar. But by this time, as his brain continues to degenerate, he becomes more and more wed to his Klingon persona. He speaks Klingonese and appears at cons and sci-fi events as a Klingon.
"The Russians, not crazy about someone handing over their tech to the American government, send an assassin to take Namon out. Their killer performs the termination in the most poetic way he can."
"Poetry is close to the Russian heart," Kate notes.
"Indeed," Rick agrees. "The murderer kills Namon with the bat'leth and leaves it as a message. Then he takes all of Namon's other alloy weapons before returning to Russia or moving on to his next job."
"That's a great story, Babe, but how do we find a Russian assassin? He probably isn't even in the United States anymore."
"I have no idea," Rick admits. "But I can think of someone who might."
"Agent Gray?"
Rick shakes his head. "He might have some information, but he'd have very little motivation to tell us. That sort of thing is on a need-to-know basis, and solving an old murder doesn't qualify as need-to-know. If anything, Uncle Sam would probably prefer that we don't know. I was thinking of someone a little closer to home, by genes, anyway."
"You mean your father? I thought you didn't want anything to do with him."
"I don't, as in a father-son, let's-throw-a-ball-around way. But Mother confessed that he'd been in touch with her and is keeping an eye on us. If we put out the word, he may turn up. Hell, he may be hanging around somewhere close by already."
"How are we going to reach him?" Kate queries.
"Any government agent worth his salt would be monitoring communications, including social media. I'll put out a tweet, and we'll see what happens." Rick picks up his phone to key in a message. "That should do it. So what do you want to do while we wait to hear from him or Violet?"
"Is your mother off to the theater?"
"Oh, yeah. She has her whole ritual to perform before she goes onstage. And when Alexis flew out of here, after scarfing down her breakfast, she said she was going to a '50s sci-fi day at the Angelika. She loves Forbidden Planet and keeps track of all the things the various TV shows stole from it. That obsession is a complement to her newfound fascination with forensics."
"Uh-huh, I can see her point," Kate agrees. The 'Spock's Brain,' episode of Star Trek was pretty flagrant, but at least they didn't kill off McCoy like the doctor in the movie."
"And Lost in Space should have been ashamed for pretty much ripping off the robot and the ship," Rick adds. "However, logging sci-fi homages or not, Alexis will be gone for the rest of the day. It should be quiet around here for the next few hours. So we could catch up on something we've been very short of as of late," he declares, offering his hand.
"Sleep," they murmur in perfect synchrony, as Rick leads the way to the bedroom.
Violet pages through her messages. Saturdays are always big in real estate, and she's already been out showing an apartment. Her eyes widen. Richard Castle and Kate Beckett. The Old Man told her to keep watch for them, but she never expected them to come to her. She retired from hands-on fixing years before, but this just might be worth returning to her former specialty.