Moment in Time Part 3
Chapter 112
Much Ado About Murder
Part 6
Kate motions Ryan and Esposito into her office. "Castle's been abducted."
Ryan turns to Esposito. "If El Oso is involved in Zane's murder, do you think he took Castle?"
"Castle was all over the news. El Oso might want to question him to find out what we know," Esposito responds.
"Vikram's got a record of what toll booths the kidnappers passed. That got him a plate, so we've traced the SUV most of the way. The FBI has a strike team on standby as soon as we have a location nailed down. And I'll be going to meet them. Are you guys in?"
"Absolutely," Ryan declares.
"You bet." Esposito agrees.
"All right. I'm going to check on Vikram's progress. You guys dig up everything you can on El Oso."
The detectives nod in synchrony. "Yes, Captain."
Esposito grimly shakes his head as he watches Kate disappear into Tech. "Jorge 'El Oso' Zamacona. He's part folk hero, part demon, and the rest pure monster. He kills anyone who crosses him. If he wants something from Castle, he'll torture him to get it. He'd probably do it just for fun. And he won't leave Castle around to write about it."
"I hear you, Bro." Ryan puts a hand on his partner's shoulder. "But we'll just have to do whatever we can."
Castle's eyes struggle to adjust to the flickering light from a fireplace. He gazes around the room where he's secured to a wooden pillar. There's a large bed, a desk, the two hulks who grabbed him in the parking garage, and someone else. He struggles to place the face. Images from news reports force their way to the front of his mind.
The figure absently plays with a vintage Bowie knife. "Oh, Mr. Castle. You're finally awake. Do you know who I am?"
The name whooshes through Rick's lips. "El Oso." The man nods approvingly. "What do you want from me?"
"You're a very talented man, Mr. Richard Castle. May I call you Ricardo?"
"You can call me anything you like. Just tell me why I'm here."
El Oso snaps his fingers, and one of his henchmen cuts Rick loose from his bonds. "I saw you on the news. You're working with the Federales to investigate Zane Cannon's death."
"You mean his murder," Rick interrupts.
"Sadly, yes. And regardless of what you might suspect, I had nothing to do with it. If I wanted him dead, I would have cut him open where you are standing now. I wouldn't kill him with a feather. Do I look like a man who would kill with a feather? In fact, I had plans for Zane alive. We had them together. He said he was going to show the world the epic that is my life. But first, I told him he had to prove himself worthy."
"How would he do that?" Castle wonders.
"Have you seen his movies?"
"Great special effects," Rick comments.
"But not great acting, except perhaps from the supporting players. Zane was no Javier Bardem. But he believed that portraying me would win him an Oscar. That's why he decided to play Hamlet. I told him if he could get a good review in the Ledger, then the rights to my life story would be his. But he wanted to meet with me again before the show could open."
"Why?"
El Oso shrugs. "I don't know. He said it had to do with the movie. But I could smell his desperation even through the phone, especially when I said no. And later that night, he was dead. But look, I didn't bring you out here to discuss los muertos." He waves Rick to a seat. "When I saw you on TV, I knew fate had put you in my path. I'm a man of the people. You write for the people. That's why you must tell my story."
"You want me to write a script for your movie? I'm not a screenwriter, although the Nikki Heat movie would have come out a lot better if the studio had let me write it."
"Si," El Oso agrees. "I've read all your books. I read Heat Wave twice. Pages 104, 105, pure artistry. And I want you to put it to work for me. It will be fun! I will tell you all about myself and you will typey typey typey. It will only take six months, maybe a year. And you will stay here with me."
"El Oso, your enjoyment of Nikki springs directly from my affection for her model, my wife. She's my muse. I can't be separated from her for six months. I could barely make it a week. Surely as a man, you can understand that."
"You can take cold showers," El Oso advises. "You will stay here, or I will mail you back to her in a box. And I would not ask you to work for free.'' He signals to one of his lackeys, who brings a large leather duffel bag filled with cash. "Will five million dollars be enough?"
Rick swallows. "Very generous."
"I can be very generous," El Oso agrees."And I believe in having the best of everything, including food. I 'convinced' one of the finest chefs from Mexico to prepare my meals. And I have excellent wine. Come, we will dine, and then you will write."
Rick observes El Oso over a glass of full-bodied wine. "Your life is, without a doubt, a Shakespearean drama."
"I've always felt a strong connection to Macbeth," the cartel chief confides. "Ambitious, but tortured by his conscience."
"With your relationship to torture, I think you're a little more like Richard the Third." Rick chuckles. "Am I right?"
Rick's host slams his fist on the table. "The hunchback?"
Rick gulps. "Um. I was thinking more along the lines of Sir Laurence Olivier."
"A man does not achieve what I have without great personal cost," El Oso proclaims, lunging from his chair.
Rick shrinks back. "Jorge, I only meant…."
The crime boss upends the table. "Do you think I cannot see the stains upon my soul appear on my sleeve as well? Are you the royal fool who dares mock the king he serves?"
"No, I'm just the funny kind of court jester," Rick squeaks.
El Oso pulls a large pistol and points it at Castle. "Then prove your humility by giving me your life!" As Rick ducks, his host convulses with laughter. "Oh, Ricardo, I wish you could see your face. It's priceless!"
Rick forces a smile. "Yeah, good one."
"Richard the Third had no sense of humor," El Oso asserts. "That is a facet of my character you must capture."
"You know," Rick suggests, "you really should play yourself in the movie."
Jorge sighs. "Ah, if only. But until you tell my story, I am a fugitive, persecuted, and misunderstood. Still, this is my refuge, our refuge."
The whine of helicopter blades penetrates the room as light floods through a skylight. A voice blasts from a loudspeaker somewhere outside. "Jorge Zamacona, this is the FBI. We have you surrounded."
Jorge's henchmen break windows, preparing to fire.
"Jorge, wait," Rick pleads, "you remember how Richard the Third ended? You can write your own ending."
"An artist must be true to the material and himself," Zamacona claims, shooting out the glass above them and continuing to fire upward.
The door to the room begins to shatter under the impact of a battering ram. "Open the hatch," Jorge commands. As a tactical squad breaches the room, the crime boss lunges toward a trap door but falls over Castle's out-stretched leg.
The armored invaders quickly down and cuff El Oso and his men. "Are you all right, Mr. Castle?" the squad leader asks.
Rick surveys the debris, "Yeah, thanks."
The leader nods. "Good. There's someone outside waiting for you. Not waiting," he corrects," as Kate charges in.
She throws her arms around Rick. "Oh, God, Babe! Did he torture you?"
"Only with the world's worst interpretation of Shakespeare."