Flu

Chapter 63

Chief Osnitz promises to expedite the analysis of Marnie's bag even as he scowls at Castle. "What did I do now?" Castle mutters as he and Kate leave the morgue.

"I saw Alexis' name on a folder on his desk. That might have something to do with it," Kate suggests.

"What?" Rick asks. "Alexis finished with Osnitz at the end of the summer." Kate's eyes suddenly find the floor. "Did my daughter tell you something she didn't tell me?"

"I think she's been trying to find the right time to talk to you. Osnitz invited her to work in the lab over her Christmas break from school. From the look the chief gave you, she hasn't gotten back to him yet."

Hurt clouds Rick's eyes. "Why would she tell you and not tell me?"

"Because Christmas is such a big deal for you, a lot more than it is for me," Kate explains. "She heard you putting in the order for a ginormous tree, and Christmas is all over the Pumpkin Palace. She's afraid of disappointing you."

"Yeah, I'm disappointed," Rick admits. "She must have been over the moon when Osnitz asked her. She could have shared that joy with me. Sure, I'll miss her if she isn't around for some of the Christmas preparations, but I want my little girl to be happy."

"That's just the thing, Babe. You still see her as the little girl climbing on Daddy's shoulders to hang her homemade ornaments on the tree."

"She said that?"

"Kind of, something about a cookie angel. But I told her she'd have to talk to you before Osnitz puts someone else in her spot."

"Then I'll have to make sure I'm available tonight," Rick declares. "Any more witnesses to see today?"

"One more of Bridget's friends, Gloria Kahane, if she can find time to talk to us. According to her Facebook page, she's a manager at F.A.O. Schwartz. She'd be swamped for weeks. We may have to wait to grab some time with her."

A sudden grin displaces the distress on Rick's face. "At the world's greatest toy store? I can wait. They have this new game that's just like the kind in an arcade but without the hungry quarters' slot."

"I'm sure it takes a lot of quarters to buy the thing."

"More or less my bodyweight in coinage, but a mere swipe of a credit card. Playing it would be the epitome of procrastination. Ooh! I bet the writers at the Pumpkin Palace would love it."

"Or you could get a machine that does take money," Kate proposes. "Your regulars would probably spend more on gaming than they do on food."

"You understand the fellowship of the pen all too well. Great idea," Rick acknowledges. "I'll have Mark look into it. But first things first. The siren call of childhood dreams is beckoning."

Kate hooks her arm in Rick's. "Let's go talk to Gloria Kahane."


The harried manager grips her container of coffee like a lifeline. "If something doesn't come up in the meantime, I've got ten minutes. What do you want to know?"

Kate passes her a printed copy of Frees proudly displaying evidence of his prize kill. "Do you remember meeting him?"

"Yeah, but I wish I hadn't," Gloria admits. "He sold beautiful leather bags that I couldn't afford. I mean, I could barely manage the new pair of boots I needed. But I don't think I would have bought anything from him if I could have. He was creepy. You know?"

"Did he try to touch you or any of the other girls?" Kate asks.

"Ew, no, but that was what made him so creepy. He was like a bubble guy or something. He didn't get close to anyone except to hand them a bag or take their money. But he had that look, like the boys had if they were trying to get us under the boardwalk on Coney Island, only disgusting. I see it on weirdos on the train sometimes. It makes me want to take a shower. Gloria locks gaze with Kate. "You know what I mean?"

"I've seen it too often," Kate confides. "Usually, I give the transit cops a heads up to keep an eye on guys like that." Kate points to the picture. "Did you ever see him with Bridget McCready?"

"I was there when he sold her one of those bags, but I also saw him watching Bridget a couple of times when he was selling his stuff to other kids. I think he might have tried to follow her once, but I'm not sure. When Bridget turned, I went in the opposite direction. But I know who might remember more, Mr. Garcia. He ran a bodega a block from school and sold a little of everything. Most of the students bought stuff there. I did, and I know Bridget did too. I saw this guy go in there at least a couple of times."

"You said Garcia ran a bodega," Kate considers. "He doesn't anymore?"

"He sold out to Snack and Slurp and retired. I know because he comes in here sometimes to shop for his grandchildren," Gloria replies. "I've put things aside for him. His granddaughter, 'Nita, collects stuffed animals. I've got to get back out on the floor. Look up Jorge Garcia. He and his wife have a condo in the West Seventies."

Kate passes Gloria her card. "Thanks, we'll do that. And if you think of anything else, please give me a call."


"Hey, Barney!" Louie's voice echoes in the large building housing the maintenance bays. "I've got something for you."

Barney's head pokes out from beneath the hood of a standard blue and white. "What is it?"

"An unmarked unit from the 54th got rear-ended by a sand truck, smashed up pretty good. It's totaled. But the front passenger seat's OK. Same model car as that pretty detective who asked for a new front-seat, drives. You want the part?" Louie inquires.

"Yeah," Barney decides. "I get the feeling if she doesn't get it, she'll just keep asking. I'll put it in for her."

Barney smiles to himself. Switching out the seats will push back the time Beckett's car will be ready until at least mid-morning tomorrow. F**k-face Heitner will be upset, but an asshole who sits on his butt at 1PP and holds people up for what they've earned anyway deserves a kick in the balls. Breaking the news could be the highlight of Barney's day.


Jorge Garcia grabs his reading glasses from his pocket and perches them on the end of his nose. "Yeah, I remember this guy. He wanted me to sell his leather stuff for him, but I wouldn't have made enough profit on merchandise like that to make it worth giving it shelf space. I could do better selling those cheese things that turn your fingers orange."

"Did he buy anything from you?" Kate asks.

"He bought drinks and jerky. He said he could live on jerky when he was hunting. But I think he hung around the store to watch the students come in. I never saw him bother any of the girls, or I would have called the police on him. But he watched them, especially one girl, Irish name."

Kate holds up a picture of Bridget McCready on her phone. "This girl?"

Jorge nods emphatically. "Yes, that's her. She bought leeks. Not that many stores carried them. She said her mother needed them for her special recipes. The last time I saw her, I think it was around Halloween that year, I saw the guy in the picture, too."

"Mr. McCready, would you be willing to testify to that in court?"

"Damn straight," Jorge promises.