Moment in Time Part 3
Chapter 57
GDS
Part 1
Flicking the beams of their flashlights across the rows of monuments, two guards make their way through the gloom of the Hollywood Forever Cemetery. "Yep, proper footwear is the key," the senior guard instructs his trainee. "This place is 62 acres, and you walk it three times a night. You try that with poor arch support, and your dogs are…." His light glints off something red.
The junior guard gasps. "Is that blood?"
"Yeah," his mentor confirms as they both shine their lights on the spot, "and it leads to that grave."
His pupil laughs nervously. "It's a joke, right? Are you hazing the new guy?"
As their beams follow the trail of drops, they fall on a body leaning against a gravestone. Blood shimmers on the entire chest, and the hands cup a human heart.
Kate gazes around the suite. "It's not quite as Hollywood as the one we stayed in last time we were in LA."
"Zenith studios comped the last one. You can't get more Hollywood than that. But right now, I'm more interested in getting a handle on reality." A bellman taps on the suite door. "Mr. Castle, we have your luggage. And," he hands Rick an envelope, "a messenger dropped this off for you a few moments ago."
"Were you expecting something?" Kate asks after the bellman departs.
"No. As far as I know, only the family and the boys know we're here. And unless Ryan's taken up a new hobby, they don't send notes with wax seals." Rick opens the flap and pulls out a card. "It's from the GDS, the Greatest Detectives Society."
"The GDS? I thought that was a myth, like a mystery writer's unicorn."
"Cannell, God rest his soul, mentioned it at the poker table once. He was checking it out for a possible TV show. Supposedly, Arthur Conan Doyle was a founding member, but the organization is more secretive than the Masons. Stephen wasn't getting very far. Since it never made the screen, he must have abandoned the idea."
"So, what does the note say?"
"'Mr. Castle, your services are required. A body was found at the Hollywood Forever Cemetary. The LAPD needs your help.' Wow! At any other time, I'd jump at a case like that, but now…."
"It could provide some cover for sniffing around LA," Kate offers. "And connecting with the LAPD wouldn't hurt either. If we need some professional courtesy, we'd be in a better position to ask."
"I guess you have a point. And the GDS might be able to offer some insights into what happened to me." Rick checks his watch. "We have a few hours before the restaurant I saw in my vision opens. Under the circumstances, the cemetery is as good a place to spend the time as any."
From behind the yellow tape, Rick points at an LAPD detective examining the crime scene. I'd know those sun-bleached curls anywhere. That's Detective Kyle Seegar. And he knows us."
"He also almost arrested us," Kate recalls.
"That was before we solved a robbery, and you rid his city of a murderer," Rick reminds her. "And we left on pretty good terms. He loved the robe I gave him. And you wanted an LAPD contact. It looks like we've got one. Why don't you give him a cop-to-cop wave and see what happens?"
Kate shrugs. "Detective Seegar!"
Kyle turns and walks toward the couple. "Detective Beckett, Mr. Castle, sightseeing or planning on breaking and entering again?"
"Kate's Captain Beckett now," Rick corrects, "and an interested party requested that I look into this."
Seegar lifts the barrier. "Well, I know better than to try to convince you to butt out. And obviously, now I can't call your captain to pull you out of here. And it didn't work last time anyway. So I'll cut to the chase. What do you want to know?"
"Whatever you have," Kate replies.
"The victim's name is Phillip Harris. He's a local private investigator. The M.E. pegs his death around midnight. Harris had just flown in from your stomping grounds. And whoever killed him was some kind of ghoul. They cut out Harris' heart and left him holding it."
"A ghoul would have eaten the heart. Sounds more like a psychopath," Rick muses.
Seegar rolls his eyes. "Fine. Anything else?"
"Phillip Harris," Rick queries, "did he have a reputation as a great detective, one who could solve the most confounding cases?"
"The papers or a writer like you might have put it that way. But," Seegar snorts, "to the department, he could be a pain in the ass."
Rick nods smugly. "As I recall, you thought we were pains in the ass too. Still, we solved both your case and Kate's."
"And since Harris just came from our home turf, there might be some clues my people can follow up for you," Kate offers.
"All right," Seegar agrees. "But whatever you find out, Keep me in the loop."
As she and Rick duck back under the tape, Kate points at a female cop lingering at the periphery. "I don't know how long LAPD unis hang around, but if she secured the scene, she should either be canvassing or back on patrol."
"Maybe she has a cemetery fetish," Rick suggests. "But I'm more interested in what our favorite cops can do. Can you call Ryan and Esposito and ask them to check out Harris?"
Kate pulls her cell out of the pocket of her slacks. "Doing it right now."
As she gets off the elevator, Lanie spies Ryan alone at his desk. "Kevin, where's Javi?"
"He's questioning the sister of a murder victim Beckett stumbled across in LA. Why?"
"Because I need you to do me a favor, but I don't want him to know about it."
Ryan shakes his head. "Come on, Lanie, Javi's my partner."
"Yeah, I know. And you know how he's been since we broke up. He can't keep his nose out of my private business. So I don't want him involved with this. I'm seeing someone, a guy named Tyler Ross. And he seems great. But these days, you never know. He could be another Hannibal Lecter."
"So you want me to look into his background?"
"If Kate were here, I'd ask her. But could you, please?"
"I guess checking it out wouldn't be a bad idea."
"Checking what out?" Esposito questions, returning from his interview.
As Lanie sends him a warning look, Ryan begins to unbutton his shirt. "This rash. I want to get Lanie's medical opinion on it."
Esposito stares down at his partner. "Too much information, Bro."
Lanie's head bobs back and forth. "An I'm more into the lividity of dead people. Call me when you've got a new body."
Rick points to the sign in the window of The Hungry Orchard. "That's what I've been seeing."
Kate takes his arm. "Then, let's find out if they remember you."
"Two for lunch?" the man behind the register asks.
"Yeah, sure," Rick agrees. "Do you have gugus?"
"Best in town. The recipe came from my grandmother's village. Right this way."
"Do you recognize me?" Rick asks as he and Kate take seats at a table. "I might have been here about a year and a half ago. And I could have been looking pretty rough, maybe acting out of it."
The host stares down at him. "Yeah, now I remember. You were in here, and you were muttering. You kept asking where you were. And a few of the customers wanted me to throw you out. But you put a pile of bills on the table, and I don't toss paying customers. One of the bills was a baht."
"Thai currency?" Rick asks.
"Yes. I tried to give it back to you, but you just left it and wandered off. I was thinking of calling 911 to help you. But I saw a man trying to catch up to you, long blond hair, kind of wiry. He seemed to know who you were. I figured he'd take care of you. I guess he did. You look all right now."
"Yeah, I guess he must have. Thanks."
"No problem. "I'll get your gugus right out to you."
"Kate," Rick whispers, "the guy following me could have been faux Jenkins."
"Or any one of thousands of blond, wiry guys in LA."
"None of whom would bother with a man who looks like he's about to panhandle or collapse on the sidewalk. Perhaps I escaped somehow in the middle of my brainwashing, and he was trying to pull me back in. Or maybe, he did pull me back in. That would explain a lot."
"But not how you got shot, the videos, or why you had that key sewn into your pants."
"No, but if I was desperate enough to end up in a dinghy in the middle of the ocean, I had to be running from something big. I remembered this place and the temple. And I really was here. So we need to check out the temple."