Moment in Time Part 3

Chapter 100

Dead Again

Part 5

With an ear open for any gossip about Gwen, Rick wanders into a laboratory. As far as he can tell, no one there is wearing anything more protective than a lab coat, so he figures he's all right if he doesn't touch anything. Besides, if it ever got back to the boys that he screwed something up, he'd never live it down. He stops in front of a mouse's cage. "Hey, tiny fellow. Looks like you survived the spill. Too bad you can't tell me about Gwen. But then, what she's said so far is probably more than Alan hoped to hear. Do you know anything about a murder plot?" The mouse remains silent. "Probably not."

A voice comes from behind Rick. "Can I help you with something?"

"Um, perhaps," Rick reads the name embroidered on the inquirer's coat, "Mike. If someone around here were trying to take out a troublesome inspector, how would they do it?"

"What? Who are you?"

"Oh, Richard Castle, author and civilian consultant to the NYPD. I'm here investigating the attempted murder of Alan Masters."

"Yeah, I heard about that," Mike acknowledges. "But I doubt you'll get much out of that mouse. He's part of a mind-enhancing trial, but he got the placebo."

"Poor little guy. On the other hand," Rick mulls, "if he got too smart, he'd realize he's locked up in a lab. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, just not in a murder investigation. So, is there some experimental drug around here a killer might use?"

"It would be a dumb killer," Mike opines. "What Zantium develops is cutting edge. It would be way too easy to trace. I'd probably use something anyone could get, like toothpaste. Too much fluoride will kill someone, and you could buy it almost anywhere."

"Wow, have you ever considered writing murder mysteries?" Rick queries. "You could be good at it."

"No thanks. I have enough trouble dealing with the fiction they try to put in the reports around here," Mike confides.

"Fiction about what?"

"Distribution of product. That spill that Masters fined the place for conveniently destroyed records that could have shown where some of it went."

"And where was that?" Rick asks.

"Out the back door. That's all I know. But I'm guessing whoever received it would have a hell of a time finding another supplier. They wouldn't want this place shut down."

"An if Alan Masters does shut it down, where would you go?" Rick questions.

"I'm going whether he does or not. I'm not putting up with any more Zantium sh*t. I've already got a job offer in Cambridge, Mass. There's a company there working on vaccines from messenger RNA. It's the next big thing. Check it out. If you have a few bucks, you ought to invest."

Rick nods. "Thanks. I'll think about it."

Frank takes a seat across from Esposito in the Zantium break room. "I've been supervising this cleanup for the last 48 hours. If I wanted to kill Alan, I didn't have the opportunity or the energy."

"But you did have a motive," Esposito points out. "You begged him not to fine you, and he did anyway."

"Yeah, he's a pain in the ass, but the damage was already done. Killing him would have accomplished nothing. But something odd did happen when I walked him out to the parking lot," Frank recalls.

"And what was that?"

"Someone was hanging out at Alan's car, but he took off when he saw us coming. I didn't think much of it at the time, but…."

"Does your parking lot have security cameras?" Esposito interrupts.

"Yeah."

Esposito pushes out of his seat. "I need to see the video."

Appreciating the familiar feel, Kate settles into a chair next to Esposito in Interrogation. She holds Glen Hume in her gaze. "So, Mr. Hume, you're the operations manager at a plastics factory Alan Masters recently shut down. Is that correct?"

"I didn't do anything to Alan. I'm innocent," Hume declares.

"Innocent men usually don't stalk their victims in parking lots," Esposito retorts.

"I just wanted to talk to Alan, that's all. I needed to find the right moment. We had to be alone."

"And what did you want to talk to him about?" Kate questions. "Think hard about your answer, Mr. Hume. If all you wanted to do was talk to Alan Masters, why did my officers find you with two suitcases and a ticket to Mexico?"

Hume's hands curl into fists. "Because I didn't want to die. They came after Alan, and I'm next."

Kate and Esposito exchange looks. "Who's they?" Kate demands. "If you know who went after Alan, you need to tell us. Was it someone from your company?"

"Are you a whistle-blower, Glen? Is there someone you're trying to expose? Is that why you wanted to talk to Alan?" Esposito presses.

Kate leans across the table, speaking softly. "The NYPD can protect you. And if someone really is trying to kill you, you're a lot safer in here with us than out there on your own."

"I hope you can," Glen responds, "because the people after me aren't from my company. They're the mob."

"What would organized crime want with Alan?" Kate takes a beat as she draws in a breath. "Waste management!"

"Yeah, they strong-armed me into giving them the contract for my factory's hazardous waste disposal. They've been doing the same thing all over town. They charge for safe handling, but they just dump the toxics in a landfill."

"Why would they target Alan before you?" Kate wonders.

"Because he fired Dave Barton, the only inspector they could buy. Alan was becoming a big problem. And they don't like problems. They get rid of them as soon as possible."

Esposito scowls."But they're not very creative. They put a bullet in their problems' brains and dump them in the Jersey Meadows."

"Or these guys might use their landfill," Kate speculates. "But why go to the hassle of putting TTX in Alan's water filter or wiring his bed?"

Glen shrugs. "Maybe it's the next generation of mobsters."

Kate taps her nails against Glen's file. "Maybe."

"Ready to go?" Rick asks as Alan slips into the shoes he brought.

"I don't know," Alan confides. "If the captain said the mob is trying to kill me…."

"That's not what Kate said. She told me that a person of interest blamed the mob. She didn't buy it. Neither do I. I've used quite a few mobsters as consultants for my books. I know their tactics pretty well. They wouldn't consider poisoning you or wiring your bed manly enough. They'd want you to see them take you out."

"If it isn't manly, couldn't it be womanly?" Alan asks. "Don't they have hit ladies? I've seen them on TV."

"Occasionally," Castle admits. "But they'd still want to see that you were dead. This just doesn't feel like the mob. But anyway, you'll be safe at my loft. And Kate is putting a security detail on you just in case."

"Can we still get lox and cream cheese?" Alan inquires.

"Sure, I'll buy extra for the cops who'll be following us. You can never go wrong feeding those guys."

"Are you sure about your loft?" Alan worries.

"Look, we'll make a quick stop at the deli, and while you're enjoying your schmear, I'll tell you what Gwen said about you."

"The hell with the deli! Just tell me about Gwen!"

"As soon as I get you settled at the loft."