Flu
Chapter 91
Celebrants fill every seat at the proprietor's table at Imagination Patch. Since the restaurant doesn't serve alcohol, Kate's free to enjoy any drink she raises. No longer flinching at the smell of coffee, she put off the one cup the doctor allows her per day for this moment. A few hours ago, the jury pronounced Hugh Heitner guilty on all counts.
After his public pronouncements, the loss is almost as devastating to Harvey Bender as it is to his client, but Kate finds it impossible to feel sorry for the man. For his own ends, he chose to demean the work of men and women vital to law enforcement. Bender deserved to lose, and Heitner deserves whatever sentence Markway decides to impose. She doubts the judge will cut the murderous cop any slack.
Side by side with Eli, Lana catches Alexis' gaze. "I was dropping some evidence by the crime lab and caught some chatter from a couple of the techs taking a break. They said something about you being responsible for Eli's questioning of Chief Osnitz knocking the pins out from under Harvey Bender. Redhead to redhead, is that true?"
Alexis stirs her cider, swirling the spices that settled to the bottom of her mug. "The chief asked me to look at some things, and I did. He and everyone else in the lab addressed anything that might be the least bit in question. But there wasn't that much to fix. Everyone at C.S.U. does a great job."
"And she can't wait to go back there on her next break from school," Castle inserts. "That's if she can tear herself away from the lab at Hudson U. Honestly, Pumpkin, I don't know why you're enjoying working under that Professor Gilly so much. That was a pretty mean stunt she pulled on you."
"It wasn't mean, Dad. She actually made the analysis easy. I knew right away what my unknown was. I just had to prove it."
Rick sniffs. "Right, giving you tear gas was a peachy thing to do."
"It wasn't tear gas, just a lachrymator, like an onion. You don't get upset if I cry when I cut those up."
"I bought you onion goggles," Rick reminds her.
"I had goggles at the lab too, but I thought it was more comfortable to wear my safety glasses. Dumb move but the fumes coming under them let me know my sample was thionyl chloride the minute I opened the vial. By the time I finished that Saturday, I'd done all the chemistry Professor Gilly needed. And since then, I've gotten to do some cool stuff. It's just that the C.S.U. lab is even cooler because I get to work on real cases."
"I'll give you that," Castle concedes. "Working on real cases is where the excitement is."
"I had fun with that too," Holly adds. "Getting the information on guitar kits for your other case was a rush." She nudges Mark, who's surveying the customers. "Wasn't it, Hon?"
"What? Oh yeah, it was kind of fun."
"Speaking of rushes, or lack of same, have you two set a date for your wedding yet?" Rick asks.
"We haven't figured one out. I have a concert series going through the spring," Holly explains, "and I pick up extra students during the summer. And Mark's so busy here."
"On that second part, if Mark needs time off to get married, he'll get it," Castle declares. "Even if I have to close this place down."
"I'd be willing to reschedule a few lessons so Holly and Mark can be happy," Alexis adds. "And I bet some of the other students would too. Or some of them may want to go on vacation or something in the summer."
"All the slots at decent summer venues are probably filled by now," Mark declares. "I've worked at banquet halls that were booked two years in advance."
"Not a problem," Alexis insists. "You could get married at our house in the Hamptons, couldn't they, Dad?"
Rick nods thoughtfully. "Not a bad idea. We have plenty of room. The view is amazing, and the caterers out there can handle anything. I remember a rock singer whose party went on for three days, and the guests didn't even notice when he was gone because he sneaked off to have some time with his girlfriend. And then there was the Shapiro wedding on the beach. That extravaganza was amazing. I wasn't invited, but I could see the fireworks. Literally, there were fireworks."
Holly giggles. "Sounds like a blast. We'll think about it, won't we, Hon?"
Mark reaches for her hand. "Whatever my bride wants."
Rick turns to Kate. "And now that Heitner is headed for a permanent vacation in the hoosegow, what does my bride want?"
"Chocolate chiffon pie and another case."
Rick grins. "I hope you mean in that order."
"It's your turn to choose a letter," Kate recalls as she and Rick take the stairs down to the archives.
"Hmm, so many possibilities," he muses.
"Only 26, no, more," Kate considers, "because the John and Jane Does have numbers."
"Worthy puzzles," Rick considers, "to not only figure out who the killer is but discover the identity of the victim. Where are those boxes?"
"All the way in the back."
"Well, at least we'll know you get your mandatory walking in. And after the feast, we had at Imagination Patch last night. I could burn a few calories too. But that new cookie crust the chef came up with was worth it."
Kate bumps against him as they walk. "It was incredible. And I'll make sure you work it off."
"Here we are," Rick announces, surveying the racks of boxes against the rear wall. "The tomb of the unknown victims. I wonder how many families are still bewildered about what happened to their loved ones? Or maybe these poor souls wandered off because they thought no one cared. Perhaps they didn't care themselves what happened to them. An American tragedy."
"Maybe we can make it a little less tragic," Kate suggests. "Pick one."
Rick's attention fixes on a bit of green fabric sticking out from beneath a lid. His blood chills as it reminds him of a retro dress Alexis picked out for her fifth birthday. If a father is still wondering what happened to his little girl…" He grabs for the box. "This one." Rick skips taking the container to a table and heads straight for the route back upstairs.
"Don't you want to check what's in there?" Kate asks.
Rick shakes his head. "It doesn't matter. I need to find out who this was and what happened to her."
Carefully, almost reverently, a gloved Rick examines every item in the box before arranging them on clean paper covering the conference table. "There might be D.N.A. on that dress that the lab couldn't amplify at the time the girl was found. We should get it to Osnitz. Maybe by now, there's a match out there. And a patent leather Mary Jane. One shoe. I wonder what happened to the other one? There's always D.N.A. in shoes, isn't there?"
"Usually, Babe, but we'll get it to the lab and find out. Is the detective's report in the box?"
Rick quickly flips through a folder. "One detective. Ugh! With the worst handwriting on his notes. At least he typed the report. His name is Lowell Dibney."
Kate nods." I remember him. He retired the year I started as a detective. The department will have his contact information. We should talk to him."
