The Woman in the Yellow Dress
By
UCSBdad
Disclaimer: I own neither Castle nor a yellow dress. Rating: K Time: Early season five. Others know Kate and Rick are a couple, but not Gates.
"I knew just from looking at you that you were the type of police officer who would want, no need, to know what had happened. So, I contacted you and we met."
Kate smiled at the memory of her first meeting with Simone.
"So then I would have had to tell the NYPD that I was saved by a four hundred year old French vampire. Oh, not the nasty kind who kill people for their blood. She's nice and she buys her blood. She won't kill to get blood no matter what."
"I suppose explaining that to the authorities would have been tres difficult."
"Simone, this isn't entirely a social call. I need your help on a case. A murder."
"I would be honored to help the NYPD. But, first, we must have some coffee. I have developed a liking for a grande skim latte with two pumps of sugar free vanilla. Come with me to the kitchen."
Simone had a coffeemaker that even Castle would have envied and in minutes, Kate had a perfect cup of her favorite coffee.
"Now, as you are here on the official police business, we shall go to my office, non?"
Once in the office, Kate had to ask one unofficial question.
"Simone, did you break up with Flynn Carsen?"
Simone nodded sadly.
"Twice in my long life I allowed myself to fall in love with a mortal man. And as they grew old, feeble and eventually died, I remained as I was at twenty-five when I became a vampire. Both times their deaths broke my heart. I could not go through that again with Flynn, even though I loved him. I could not survive going through that a third time." Simone smiled bravely. "Besides, Flynn has his work with the Library. He goes all over the world seeking mysteries."
Kate noticed something on the shelf in Simone's office.
"Isn't that the Judas Chalice?"
"Yes. A chalice made from the thirty pieces of silver Judas got for betraying Christ. Because of that, Judas was the first vampire. It is the Holy Grail for vampires. The Library lets me keep it. I sleep with it next to my skin. It has changed me. You notice I can drink coffee while other vampires can only consume blood."
Suddenly, Simone smiled.
"Oh, you must come with me back to the kitchen and see what I have."
Simone took Kate's hand and took her to the kitchen. There she saw two large freezers.
"One is for my blood supply, but look!" Simone opened the other freezer.
"Ice cream?" Kate said in surprise.
"Oui. I had never eaten ice cream before, but now I can. Will you have some with me, s'il vous plait?"
Kate nodded and Simone got out two bowls. Kate had strawberry ice cream and Simone had mint chocolate chip. They took the bowls back to Simone's office.
"One more thing that has changed me since I have touched the Judas Chalice. I can go out in the sunlight now. No more up all night and sleep in the daytime. I had no idea how much I had missed daylight. In fact, I took a trip to the Caribbean last winter. I wore the most scandalously small bikini and got a tan."
"I'm glad you're happy, Simone, but I do have police business."
Kate took out a pad and showed the image of Daisy Bell to Simone. She explained to Simone about the murder of Mrs. Brown and its possible connection to the painting.
"You were Daisy Bell, weren't you?"
"Oh, yes. That is me. That wonderful Henri painted me. He also did a nude of me. He was such a naughty boy sometimes, but I did care for him."
"And the Prince of Wales?"
"Bertie? Oh, such a gentleman, but he did enjoy life. And me, of course."
"But you're French, not English."
"My dear Katherine, when you live to be centuries old, you do learn to disguise yourself." Simone said that in a very cut-glass English accent.
"How did you end up in Paris again?" Kate was curious.
"In 1890 I was in Carson City, Nevada and won a silver mine in a poker game. Everyone thought the mine was almost played out, but weeks later they found the mother lode. I became very rich and decided to return to Paris. I had not been there since 1815 when that horrible Napoleon was defeated. That man. He killed millions just so he could call himself an emperor. Of course, the Bourbon kings who replaced him were no better, just less bloodthirsty. So, I returned as Daisy Bell, an English singer. Oh, I so loved Paris at the end of the nineteenth century. So happy, so full of fun."
Kate pointed out the picture of Daisy Bell with the woman in the yellow dress. "This is a forgery of Toulouse-Lautrec's painting of you. You can tell because of the woman in the yellow dress. In the real painting, she has on a blue dress."
"Forgery? But of course not. My dear Henri painted that for me. I should know."
"This isn't a forgery? What about the painting with the woman in the background in the blue dress?"
"Also by my dear Henri. I will explain. The one with the blue dress was painted first, and dear Henri sold it to Bertie, the Prince of Wales. I was heart broken. Henri had painted it for me and me alone. He said he had been drunk when he sold the painting, but I was still so angry. I cried and called Henri names until he agreed to secretly paint another one, but with one change so no one would confuse the two. And so, both are real."
"But why did you sell it later? Or did you?" Kate asked.
"Alas, I am forever twenty-five. It is my curse and a sort of a blessing. So no one will notice, I use the grey dye on my hair and age myself with makeup. But, sooner or later I must leave where I am and become someone else. Daisy Bell left France in 1915 because of the horrible war. By 1920 I was Lily James, an American jazz singer. I sang in all of the best speakeasies in New York City. I was afraid that if someone saw Lily James with a painting of Daisy Bell, questions would be asked. There were still people around who remembered Daisy Bell. I sold the painting of me saying that it was a copy of a Toulouse-Lautrec. Eventually it ended up with Mr. Hobbes."
"Then the other one was destroyed after it was stolen by the Nazis in World War Two." Kate said.
Simone rose and walked to a door in her office. When she opened it, Kate could see that the door had a solid steel core.
"Come with me." Simone said.
When they were both in the storage room, Kate got a shock. There was the other painting of Daisy Bell, this time with a woman in a blue dress in one corner.
"How did you get that?" Kate asked.
"I bought it, of course."
"From whom?"
"From Isadore Blum, of course. I even have the receipt. I will show you."
Simone went to a filing cabinet and after a minute or so pulled out an old, but still legible receipt and handed it to Kate.
Kate read it.
"Received from Lady Evelyn Stratford-Thorburn….That's you?"
"But of course. A very distinguished English noblewoman. And quite a handsome woman."
Kate kept reading.
"…the sum of seventy five thousand pounds sterling for the portrait of Daisy Bell in a red dress at the Moulin Rouge by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec."
"You will notice that I paid Mister Blum the full value for the painting. I am not one to lick a man when he is down."
"I think you mean kick a man when he's down, Simone."
"That as well." Simone said with a smile.
"But the Nazis stole that painting."
"No. As you can see, I purchased it on November 15, 1938." Simone sighed. "The last full year of peace for Europe for some six years. So sad. But, only two days after I bought the painting, the Blum family was arrested and they were all murdered by the Nazis."
"So the Nazis never got the painting?"
Simone shrugged.
"Because of the war many records were lost and the Nazis destroyed many to try to cover up their crimes. Many Nazis who might have known what was stolen from the Blum family were dead or in hiding. And those horrible Nazis who were neither dead nor in hiding were trying to convince everyone they had never really been Nazis and had never done anything bad, the lying boches."
"So the belief that the Nazis got the painting is just bad record keeping?"
Simone shrugged.
"Perhaps. Or perhaps some underling was afraid to tell his boss that he had failed to get the painting of the beautiful, talented and very sexy Daisy Bell. It could happen, non?"
"I suppose." Kate said without much enthusiasm.
"It sounds like I did not help much."
"New evidence always helps, Simone, even if it's not what we hoped for."
"Good! Now you must tell me all about this Richard Castle. Is he good in bed?"
Kate laughed.
"I'll tell you all about Rick Castle."
When she left Simone's, Kate called Rick to tell him she was coming back to the loft. Accordingly, he had their pizza hot from the microwave when she came through the door.
"Rick, you know I hate keeping secrets from you." Kate said as she sat.
"I know. And I know just how dangerous a CI's life can be, Since I do know that I occasionally speak without thinking, it's best that I don't know anything about this one. Besides, I've already decided that she's a femme fatale straight out of a 1940s film noir. Kind of a Barbara Stanwyck or maybe Ida Lupino."
Kate giggled.
"Not even close."
"As you can see, in deference to your lack of an adventurous spirit, as far as food goes, I have put no chocolate on my half of the pizza."
"And I appreciate that…" Kate stopped and looked at his half of the pizza. "What is that?"
"Peppermint candies, ever so slightly melted by the microwave. Would you like to try a slice?"
Kate just shook her head.
When they got to the precinct the next morning, Captain Gates wanted to see Kate.
"Detective, three young men came in today and want to share what they know about the murder of John di Falco. They are Jaquille Johnstone, Roger Wembley and Curtis Davis. They say they saw the shooting. I'd like you to do the interrogations. I think a woman would put them more at ease, although they came in willingly. Detective Ryan has some background on them."
Kate and Rick went to Ryan's desk. The Irish detective checked his notes.
"Not your average gang bangers by any means. No gang ties, good students, never in trouble. I'd say they aren't our shooters, but I've been wrong before."
Kate looked over Ryan's notes and then headed for Interrogation One. Jaquille Johnstone was waiting for her. He shot to his feet when she came in.
"Please sit down, Mr. Johnstone. I'm Detective Kate Beckett. I understand you and your friends witnessed the murder of one John di Falco? I'd appreciate it if you could tell me, in your own words, what happened that day.
"Yes, ma'am." Johnstone swallowed three times and then began to speak.
TBC