The Children's Corner

Chapter 7

"The boys will still have a lot of work to do," Kate points out. "They'll have to figure out how Baciu administered the poison and find some proof that he did it. Otherwise, I can't see a jury convicting him on a declaration like that. But, still, it will give Eli enough for an indictment. So there should be enough time to gather the evidence we need."

"We?" Rick queries. "Are you going to keep working on the case? Never mind. I already know the answer to that. But, more to the point, how do you plan to participate in the investigation?"

"I probably won't do anything I can't manage from here. But now that we know who the victim is, maybe I can come up with something the boys miss. Or maybe you can."

"I thoroughly appreciate your faith in me as far as police work goes. But for now, I'll be dividing the machinations of my brain, such as they are, between integrating Liz's suggestions for Storm and figuring out how to casually introduce Liz to Rosalyn at the poker game tonight."

"Why not introduce her the way you introduce anyone else at the table? Point, give their name and wait for the grunts indicating the other players heard you. Go any further than that with it, and everyone, probably including Liz, will know that you're trying to pull something off. If the two of them have any chemistry, they won't need any help from you. And if they don't, what you do won't make any difference – except to embarrass yourself and them."

Rick sighs. "As usual, you've drilled to the heart of the matter. So fine, after the usual gaming rituals, hands off."

Kate rolls her eyes. "I'll believe that when I see it."

Esposito perches on the edge of Ryan's desk. "What are you doing, Bro? It's end of shift. Time to get out of here and get set for the game at Castle and Beckett's place tonight."

"I know. But I've been trying to find family for Jeni Stefoniou. And I've got zip. I can't even locate any school records. And as far as I can tell, there's no Social Security number under that name either. It's like she never existed. You think Baciu lied about her name?"

"He had no reason to do that. Baciu's lawyer was busting his ass, trying to make him shut up. He could have just done what Torje said. Maybe the people who brought her to this country changed her name."

"But if they did that, how the hell are we ever going to find them?"

"Castle may have some crazy idea. Or Beckett could have a better one. Anyway, we can ask them later. But if we're going to see our ladies before we make the game, we better get our butts out of here."

Ryan reluctantly shuts off his computer monitor. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Esposito claps his partner on the shoulder. "I'm always right, Bro."

"So," Rick recaps to Ryan and Esposito as he divvies up poker chips, "as far as documentation is concerned, the name Jeni Stefoniou doesn't exist. But obviously, the person does."

"And that person regularly intersected with Baciu for about a month before her death," Kate adds. "So, if you trace Baciu's movements, you should pick up Jeni's trail as well. So what was Baciu doing?"

"It had to be something in proximity to food and or beverages," Rick figures. "And most likely a task appropriate to a priest." Rick's eyes take on the faraway look Kate knows so well. "Baciu looks for Jeni. He wants to be where he believed she'd go. So the good father signs on to minister to those with gender issues. Not speaking much English, he finds his place providing refreshments at support group meetings and counseling sessions. In a way, it's almost like offering communion. Dragos truly believes God has guided his steps when a hand taking the coffee he pours has smooth fingertips. Now he knows what he must do. He notes that Jeni's favorite pastries are poppy seed muffins and manages to inject a few with his deadly potion. The texture and the flavor will cover what he's done. He's ever so careful that his special treats go only to his target until the fateful day when she collapses on cold and unforgiving restroom tile. And when she doesn't return to her group, he realizes he's fulfilled his holy mission."

"So," Kate sums up, "what you guys have to do is hunt down the organizations that provide support to people with issues like Jeni's."

"Exactly right," Rick agrees, grinning at his wife. Then, turning back to the poker game, he notices an empty bowl. "Ah, we need more chips." Springing from his seat, he refills the container.

"Go ahead," Rosalyn bids Liz when their fingers collide over the replenished snacks.

"Thanks," Liz smiles. "You know, as a writer, I've solicited some input from Kate about how a well-trained woman takes down a man, particularly a large man. I'd love to hear about your experience as well. Maybe we can talk over drinks."

"All right," Rosalyn agrees. "I can always use a beer after work. We can meet at Bunker's. It's the best cop bar around the precinct, and it has Budweiser on tap."

"Sounds perfect."

"You have to understand that our work here at Our Place is confidential," Dr. Maria Russo protests as Ryan holds up his phone with Jeni's picture.

He nods. "Yes, Ma'am, I do. But you can't protect her. She's dead. I'm just looking for her killer. And I don't need to know any confidential information, other than if she was here." Ryan switches images to a photo of Baciu. "And also this man. I need to know if they were present at the same time."

Russo blanches. "He's a priest, Father Dragos, who volunteers here. He speaks Romanian, but I speak Italian, so we can make ourselves understood. He was here at the same time she was, but he wouldn't have hurt her. He's completely devoted to his faith."

"I'm sure he is. But when we're investigating a murder, we have to follow every lead. So what kind of volunteer work does Father Dragos do?"

"He takes care of refreshments during sessions. Since he can't understand English, he's really the perfect choice."

"And the woman, would you have any emergency contact information for her?" Ryan presses. "We don't know the name she was using, and we have to notify her next of kin."

"I'm sorry. Our confidences here don't end at death. And unfortunately, we have too many tragic endings among our clients. But if you'll give me your number, I can contact someone for you. If that person is willing to talk, you'll get a call."

Ryan hands her his card. "Thank you, Doctor Russo. I'd appreciate it."

Over a take-out lunch with Ryan, Esposito shakes his head in disgust. "You let some shrink get away with putting you off like that, Bro?"

"She didn't put me off. She's just trying to do her job. Anyway, it's more than you came up with. And I bet she made a call the minute I left."

"Even if she did, that doesn't mean anyone's going to call you. If that's who snuck Jeni into the country, they won't want to talk to cops."

"Maybe, but …." As Ryan reaches for the last sparerib, his cell phone sounds. "There! No, I.D., and I don't recognize the number. This has to be about our vic."

While Ryan takes the call, Esposito snatches the rib.