Chapter 2

Dependencies

After their trip to the kitchen for more coffee, Castle double-checked that the door was closed and then turned on his smart-board and called up a file. The display filled with a cascade of boxes and arrows running between the boxes. Each box had the name of a corporation; some boxes contained others; and to each arrow was attached a list of money transfers.

"We found out that Raglan, McCallister, and Montgomery had set up a whole series of shell corporations — they seem to have used the first tranche of ransoms as the initial investment — and used one of them to buy a strip club in Long Island City." He tapped one of the boxes contained within a corporation box.

"A strip club?" Beckett raised her eyebrows in surprise, then frowned in thought. "Wait — cash-heavy business; it made it easy to launder ransoms paid in cash."

"Exactly. We think they mixed the cash ransoms into the club income — certainly the club's income seemed substantially higher after they bought it. Then the club paid other corporations they had set up — you know, fees for maintenance, cleaning, security, management services." He indicated various arrows. "Those other corporations in turn paid fees or gave loans that were later written off to still other corporations." He pointed to the next set of arrows, then tapped the following ones. "Lather, rinse, repeat through three or four layers until it all ended up in the account of the 'JGR Consultancy Group'." The "JGR" box was highlighted, and only had incoming arrows. "It was a pretty sophisticated set-up, and it took us a long time to chase down all the transactions."

"'JGR' being John, Gary, Roy..."

Castle nodded. "I have copies of everything we found, all these connections." His gesture took in the entire network on the smart-board. "I won't blame you if you want to check everything yourself; you might find connections we missed. But can I assume that you accept the general outline of their set-up?"

Beckett nodded, looking intently at the board.

Castle pointed again at the highlighted box. "Then the entire contents of 'JGR's' bank account was transferred out in April '92 and the business was wound up. And all of the shell corporations were liquidated in the following weeks. Raglan, McCallister, and Montgomery got some money back from the sale of the club and the other assets, but it was just a fraction of the total ransom money. When Gates shut down the investigation, we had the bank and the account number 'JGR's' money had been transferred to. The bank closed down in '96, but we were able to figure out that the account we wanted had not been transferred when other banks bought up parts of the business. So it must have been closed between '92 and '96. The problem was that no-one seemed to know where the records of those accounts had ended up."

"Seemed to know? Past tense, Castle?"

"Okay, Beckett, I have a confession to make here. When I called you after Gates kicked me out, I said I was going to take a break... and I did, for a while. But then I restarted investigating, by myself. The money trail was one thread."

"And did it lead anywhere?"

Castle gave a small, frustrated headshake. "I found one of the people who handled the technical side of the winding-up of the bank — you know, like transferring account data to other banks. She was able to point me in the right direction. They took all the dead account paperwork and stored it in a warehouse in Union City. But a couple years after the move, fire broke out and the files were destroyed. It's just another dead end."

"How did it happen?" Beckett asked.

"An accident. It was old wiring."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, there was an investigation."

"Well, did you see the report from the fire investigator?"

"No, but..." Castle frowned. "Really, a warehouse fire? Seems an awful lot of trouble for a couple of files."

"That's no more trouble than they've already gone through," Beckett pointed out. "I mean, we have to read that report."

Castle considered, then nodded. "It's at least worth checking."

"So, what were the other threads? You said the money was 'one thread'."

Castle stared into space for a moment. "All right. When I was taking a break... I couldn't help thinking about Montgomery calling us, and I kept trying to find a story that fit. That's what led me to think that maybe our phones were tapped. And then, like we discussed, I realized that the Dragon doesn't know for sure we were there. Even if he thinks we were, he doesn't know what Montgomery said. So we have some facts that the Dragon doesn't know we have.

"First, a very basic fact: the Dragon is a man. You remember what Montgomery said in the hangar? 'He had figured out what we had done'. Dick Coonan... I've replayed that moment in my head a hundred times, and I really can't remember if he said we'd never touch him or them. Maybe the latter is more likely, since he definitely said 'They'll bury you'. But in any case we didn't know for sure that he ever knew the Dragon personally, or just his organization or someone in it. We know Montgomery did know the Dragon, because he refused to tell you his name.

"Second, the Dragon was also almost certainly connected with law enforcement around '91 or '92, because he tumbled to the kidnapping operation that Raglan, McCallister, and Montgomery were running and was able to blackmail them with the threat of exposure, which could have led to both prosecution and revenge from the mob. The FBI might be the most likely possibility, because of Bob Armen. Or the US attorney's office, because of the mob connection. Or it could be the NYPD or the DA's office.

"Third, something changed about his career or his position after that. 'He took that money to become what he is.' We don't know what. Maybe it was the beginning of a business career — legitimate or not — or he bribed his way into something, or financed a political campaign, or something else."

"You think we can place a lot of confidence in what Montgomery said, since it was something like a deathbed confession," said Beckett.

Castle nodded. "Then we have some more facts that the Dragon will know that we know. First, he is now wealthy — he can employ people like Coonan and Lockwood and whoever shot you.

"Second, he is well-connected, because he seems to be able to arrange phone tapping and he was certainly able to have someone check out prison officers to find one guy — Ryker — who could be bribed to transfer Lockwood out of Ad Seg.

Beckett nodded. Chuck Ryker, the prison officer whom Beckett had met several times on her weekly pilgrimage to stare down Lockwood, had turned out to have major financial problems and had been paid fifty thousand dollars to move Lockwood from Administrative Segregation to the general prison population, where he would be able to find and kill Gary McCallister. Ryan and Esposito had identified him readily enough when they examined financial records for everyone who could have forged the signature on the transfer order, but by then Ryker had already been pre-emptively killed, presumably to prevent him talking.

"Third, he probably has connections to the military, or maybe private military contractors, since he can find people like Coonan and Lockwood to hire. In particular, if we are right about him having Raglan killed because his call to you was monitored, then he was able to have Lockwood in position in less than an hour."

"And the gun," said Beckett. She saw Castle looking a question at her. "During the summer, you told me that the gun that the sniper used was supposedly lost abroad on a SEAL mission. I suppose it's possible someone found it and it eventually made its way back to the US and to the sniper, but isn't it more likely that someone in the military disappeared the weapon from an armory somewhere and altered the records? That someone is connected..." She grimaced. "At least, if the Dragon was behind my shooting, then that someone is connected — at least via the sniper — to the Dragon."

"Good catch," said Castle. "So— no, wait." Castle looked at Beckett. "What you just said — the gun. That's at least one point that suggests that your shooting wasn't private revenge."

Beckett nodded. "Yeah, it's tenuous, but it adds a bit to the likelihood of the Dragon having ordered my shooting."

"Where was I? Right, so I started looking for someone who fits this pattern of facts we have. I have databases of everyone who worked at the NYPD, the DA's office, and the FBI's New York field office from '90 to '93."

Beckett started. "Wait, how—"

"Beckett!" Castle cut her off. "Please, don't ask that right now. Let me finish explaining. I have those databases, including information about when people joined and left those services. I don't have a database for the US attorney's office, but I hope to have it soon.

"With this information, I can eliminate possibilities. I can immediately exclude women, for instance. I can eliminate anyone who has died. Then I can prioritize. If he is still a Fed or a cop, he is likely to be very high-ranking. If he was in the DA's office, there's a good chance that he moved on to business or politics."

"So you can sort the list from most likely to least likely?"

"Exactly. It's still a long list, though," Castle admitted. "More than 14,000 names. So far, I've been concentrating on senior members of the NYPD, because it has been easy for me to get information on them. I've already been able to provisionally exclude the Commissioner, the Chief of Police, and most of the men among the Bureau Chiefs and Assistant Chiefs."

"For what reasons?"

"A couple of them were in other police forces — LA and Chicago — in the early nineties, which makes it unlikely that they found out about the kidnappings here. But for all of them, there were no notable differences in their career progression before and after the early nineties. All of them were already advancing quickly in their early careers, back in the eighties." Castle smiled. "Reading their files reminded me of another cop I know," he remarked, earning himself a half-hearted eye-roll. "As for the Commissioner, he was a career cop in San Francisco before he retired as an Assistant Chief and started working as a law-enforcement consultant. Bob Weldon told me that he had to work hard to convince him to move here and take the appointment as Commissioner, so he doesn't fit the pattern we're looking for."

Beckett hesitated a moment. "Castle, I hate to ask this... I know he's your friend, and I liked him when we met and played poker, but is the Mayor...?"

"Bob was working with an educational NGO in the early 1990s. He was teaching in Honduras from '89 until '93, then in Chicago for a year, then in Queens, until his political career started with a grass-roots run for the City Council in '98. I was the first big political donor he had. He doesn't fit the pattern. I knew it wasn't him because he's my friend, but I knew you would want evidence."

"Castle, don't take this the wrong way, but you've been wrong about friends before."

"Damian Westlake was..." Castle trailed off, staring into space. "You were right. He was a story I told myself when I was homesick at Edgewyck. But I only met Bob as an adult. He's my friend, but I was never... emotionally dependent on him the way I was with Damian. But I got evidence because I felt you would be disappointed in me if I didn't."

Beckett sat back in her chair and took a sip of coffee. "You've made notes on your findings, right? I'd like to see them myself, but it all sounds reasonable. But this is just the tip of the iceberg. Or the first few pieces of straw from a haystack containing a particularly elusive and dangerous needle."

"But at least this haystack is prioritized!" protested Castle, smiling at the resulting fully-fledged patent Beckett eye-roll. "Yes, you're right. But I'm hoping that we can gradually reduce the list with other data points." He set his coffee cup back down and looked at Beckett. "You spent three years looking into your mom's murder, and last year you started looking into it again. Knowing you, I assume you made meticulous notes of everything you investigated and every theory you entertained, even if you dismissed them later, right?"

"Yeah..." said Beckett.

"Well, I think we should revisit everything you looked at — and all your mom's private papers too — with my databases and what we learned from Montgomery. Something that you dismissed as irrelevant or even laughable back then might seem very different now."

Beckett nodded slowly. "Yes... Right now, I can't think of anything that looks different in the light of what we know now, but I know that memory is not reliable in situations like this. I need to see my notes." She looked up at Castle. "We need to see my notes, because talking it through with you will help me re-examine what I thought before, and obviously you'll have ideas too."

Castle inclined his head, acknowledging the point. "But this investigation has to be kept totally quiet, because we're building on a tiny advantage — that we have a few facts about the Dragon that he doesn't know we have."

"I think you mean that you have to protect the anonymous sources that have been supplying you with personnel data for law enforcement, right?" said Beckett, with mild sarcasm.

"Protecting sources is a valid concern, Beckett." Castle smiled thinly. "I'm being careful. I didn't start any of this until the building work..." He gestured around the room. "...was complete. All communication is by encrypted email — not from my usual accounts — or one of a dozen burner phones. I'm using a dedicated laptop and I'm using a virtual private network that means my connection emerges at a random choice among hundreds of different end-points. And to minimize the chance that it's noticed that I'm using a VPN, I have a dedicated router that piggybacks my connection on the WiFi from the hair salon at street level."

"And you set this up how? I mean, I know you love gadgets, but you aren't exactly a techno-wizard... Wait, you—

"I—"

"—know a guy," they chorused. Beckett shook her head in amused resignation.

"You know me so well, Detective," Castle said, smiling. "His name is Jack Coulthard, generally known in technical circles as Jack the Bastard. He is my go-to guy for anything electronics-related. I got to know him back in the early days of Derrick Storm, when he sent me a long... well, a vitriolic and encyclopedic list of complaints about technological errors in the first book. I asked his advice, and the lists got shorter as the series progressed — but never vanished, because I do use artistic license. I helped him out five or six years ago when his kid was seriously ill and the insurance company was being... uncooperative. I trust him. Helping someone's kid buys a lot of goodwill.

"And the money is being routed carefully. So far, I have paid cash for everything I bought personally. I have been making ready some untraceable funds, so I have about a quarter-million in cash and a bit over a million and a half in accounts that I control but that are shielded by a maze of corporations and subsidiaries and trusts. It actually costs me to move the money like this, because it's structured to look like I lost the money in failed investments."

"Castle, exactly how much have you spent on this investigation?" Beckett demanded.

"Including security and the building work? So far, about six hundred K, I guess."

"You guess? Castle, how can you guess about this? I mean, I know you're rich, but..." she sputtered.

"Beckett, I have a lot of money. That doesn't make me happy, or give me satisfaction. I once told you that what I really valued was the freedom that money gave me. Well right now, right here, I have the freedom to use my money to try to find this guy and to protect you. I have spent money on my investigation. I have spent money on my security, my family's security, and your security. And I am rich enough to continue doing all that, and I will." Castle smacked his hand down on the desk for emphasis.

"My security? What are you talking about, Castle?"

Castle paused. "Your dad didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" asked Beckett, tetchily.

"When you were in the hospital, you had a constant guard on your door. Unis queued up for the duty, with L.T. at the front of the line. But there was no way the NYPD could keep a detail on you indefinitely. I thought the sniper might try again. When your dad told me he was going to take you up to his cabin to recover, I offered — well, I said I wanted — to have a security team watch the place."

"And you didn't even ask me?" said Beckett, angrily.

"It was your dad's cabin they were securing," said Castle mildly.

"Don't split hairs with me, Castle."

"Okay, then what would you have said if we had asked you?" asked Castle.

"I didn't want or need—"

"Like hell you didn't, Beckett," Castle fired back. "You were recovering from being shot. I didn't even know if you had a gun when you were at the cabin, but I knew you would be in no state to take on a professional killer." He took a breath and exhaled slowly, then met her glare and spoke calmly. "Beckett, you are a very strong, capable, independent person. You have built yourself into that person, and I admire you for it. But whether you choose to admit it or not, while you were recovering, you were temporarily not able to be that person. Am I wrong? Then look me in the eye and tell me that I'm wrong!"

Castle and Beckett held each others' eyes for several fulminating seconds. It was Beckett who looked away.

"Thank you, Beckett. I know that wasn't easy for you," he said gently. "Just to be absolutely clear, no-one even tried to attack you at your dad's cabin. There wasn't even any recon. And the team would have known if there had been. They're European former special forces guys, two from Germany, two from France — I figured it was best to look across the pond, given the Dragon's possible military connections here. They work for a Swiss-based firm that offers private security to... people like me. I used them years ago when I was in Europe with Alexis for a book tour and there was some disturbing fan mail sent to a couple of the venues, fan mail that mentioned Alexis prominently." Castle shook his head at the memory. "Turned out to be someone who was off his meds. But he got better and actually sent a letter of apology once he had recovered.

"Anyway, they know about respecting privacy while they work. After their initial assessment of the cabin, they pulled back and watched the approaches, left you both alone most of the time. And they were under orders not to share any information with me unless there was an attempt to get to you. You never knew they were there, and neither would have any potential attacker. But nothing happened. I don't know why the Dragon — or the sniper — backed off. But in any case, I also want to have your apartment's security upgraded. Bulletproof glass, high-security door, alarm system, the works."

"Castle, that's—" Beckett stopped and looked down, staying silent for almost twenty seconds. "You're right, of course. Thank you. I'm sorry, I'm just... I'm not good at depending on people, Castle." She looked up at him again. "I mean, I know I depend on you and the boys at work, but that's a mutual thing — we're a team, we all know we can rely on each other. But this feels different, like I'm a burden here... Intellectually, I know what you say makes sense, but I instinctively..." She shook her head. "You know I saw a therapist today for my psych eval? Maybe I should have talked to him about this."

"Beckett, I know you," said Castle. "You did the absolute minimum for the therapist to certify you fit to go back to work, right?"

She drew a breath and exhaled slowly, then nodded. "Stupid, right?"

"No, not stupid. Hasty, perhaps. Like you said, you're not used to asking for help outside of team dynamics, especially about personal things. After your mom died, you had no one to rely on, so you built up this fierce independence. Opening up to a therapist must be an incredibly difficult thing for you."

Beckett gave a mirthless laugh. "You have no idea."

"Beckett, I'm not going to push you to go back to your therapist," Castle said. "That's a decision you have to make yourself. But let me make two points, then we can drop the subject, if you want. One: letting yourself rely on others a little bit more now will help you recover your self-reliance faster. Two: that independence and self-reliance you have — it's... it's like a skill. You don't have to use it all the time. You can keep it in reserve and bring it out when you need it."

Beckett smiled. "Thank you, Castle." She shook her head. "I can't promise to take your advice to heart. I'm not great at taking advice about stuff like this. But I will think about what you've said. So... just, thanks, okay?"

"Always." Castle smiled back. "And if you want to talk about this more, now or later or another day, I'm here. But for now...?"

"Right." Beckett sat up and drank another mouthful of coffee. "You're right. I should upgrade my apartment's security. But I just need the contact information of whoever did your place. I'll arrange it and pay for it."

"No," said Castle. "I've already put everything in place. You don't need to arrange anything. With your permission, they can start immediately."

"Immediately?"

"As in, they can come to your place to do the survey later this afternoon, then fabricate the windows and door over the following week or so, and hopefully install them and the alarm the week after that. Everything should be finished by the end of the month. You can stay here in the guest room for the time being."

"You have this all planned out, don't you?" said Beckett, rhetorically. "Okay, but I will pay you back."

"We've had this argument before, and I won last time, too, so let's just save time... ooh, classic Beckett eye roll!" said Castle, smiling. "We'll go over there when we're finished here so I can introduce you. Then we can go over to your place together and you can get a bag for your stay here."

"Castle, I didn't actually agree to that part yet."

"Beckett, a lot of work is going to be done in your apartment over the next couple of weeks. You'll be much more comfortable here." Castle paused for a second, then took a breath. "If not for your own sake, do it for my peace of mind. I'll be much more comfortable with you living in security."

Beckett gave him a smile. "Well, it wouldn't befit a muse to disturb the artist's peace of mind, would it?"

"Exactly, Beckett!" said Castle. "I knew you'd understand."

Beckett shook her head slightly. "Right. Investigation. I want to see all the data you've gathered, and we need to look into that warehouse fire, and then maybe into anything the Dragon might have wanted to distract us from. I can request the fire report when I'm back at the precinct. I suppose I should also use a dedicated computer for your data?"

"I'll buy you a laptop tomorrow and install the OS. High security version of Linux that Jack the Bastard suggested. My treat. But don't go online with it from home unless we can set you up with a separate internet connection like mine. Either come here or go to a coffee shop with WiFi — preferably several different shops — and use the virtual private network account that I'll set up. And when you go online with it, don't access your normal email or any of your usual accounts.

"One more thing. Earlier, you were going to ask me how I got hold of my data. Don't." There was the steely Castle, the one she had only seen two or three times in the years they had worked together. "If you want to be involved in this side of the investigation, fine. I want you involved. But you do not ask me how I obtain information. I'm not a cop. I don't have to follow cop rules. But you do. If this goes to court, you have to be able to testify that you don't know how I obtained... a particular file, say."

"Information like that probably won't be admissible in court."

"No, but if we find a starting-point with probable cause, you can get warrants and you'll know exactly where to look."

"What if they put you on the stand? You'll plead the fifth?"

"Yeah," said Castle. "I imagine the worst that can happen to me is that the NYPD kicks me out. If it does get worse than that, I have the resources to disappear to a non-extradition treaty country." Castle held her eyes for a moment, then smiled. "You'll be able to come and visit me, work on your tan."

"Trying to see me in a swimsuit again, huh?" she joked, then her smile faded and she looked away and grimaced slightly.

After their return from visiting the home security contractor and her apartment, Beckett motioned Castle into the study again.

"Castle, I was thinking about what Montgomery said that night, and I think you missed a couple of things," said Beckett. "First, Montgomery refused to give me the Dragon's name, because he thought I'd 'run straight at it'. That strongly suggests that the Dragon is living openly under the name Montgomery knew. He's not sitting in the shadows somewhere."

"Yeah, that makes sense."

"Although it's also possible that he disappeared from view — maybe faked his death or something — and Montgomery knew I would dig into that."

"Hmmmm..." Castle chewed his lip. "I don't buy it. Montgomery said 'run straight at it'. That suggests that you would immediately, or at least very quickly, find out where he is."

Beckett nodded. "Okay, well, let's say it's likely — not certain — that he is living openly under his own name. The name Montgomery refused to give me."

"Okay. And the second thing?"

"Montgomery said: 'she' — my mom — 'died because of what we did that night'."

"Yeah, because she worked on Pulgatti's appeal."

"But right after that he said, 'somehow he had figured out what we had done'. Doesn't that at least suggest that Montgomery thought that it was Bob Armen's death — or something closely connected to it — that allowed the Dragon to find out?"

Castle nodded slowly. "Could be... and since he knew who the Dragon is, we can put a lot of confidence in what he thought. Assuming we're interpreting what he said correctly."

"But it's definitely worth looking into, even if we need to shore it up." Beckett stared into space in thought, then looked back at Castle. "If Armen's death was the key, would the kidnappings have stopped soon afterwards, when the Dragon confronted them?"

"He could have left them to it, given them more time to gather even more ransom money," Castle pointed out.

"But there was a risk that someone else would find out, either someone from the mob..."

"...or someone else from law enforcement." Castle thought for a moment. "The FBI took over the Bob Armen case, right?"

"Yeah, the murder of a federal agent falls under their jurisdiction," said Beckett.

"But at the start, Raglan, McCallister, and Montgomery thought Armen was just some mobster. Probably they didn't much care about his death..."

"But then they hear that Armen was an undercover Fed."

"So they panic. They pin Armen's death on Pulgatti."

"They quickly put together a case, before the Feds show up, officially tell them that Armen was an agent, and take over."

"But they can't control the direction of the FBI's investigation."

"They just have to hope that what they've put together stands up."

"Which it did, but they couldn't be sure of that at the time."

"So probably they back off from kidnapping, at least for a while," said Beckett. "Maybe they start again later, once they decide they aren't going to take any heat from the FBI investigation?" she added, speculatively.

"Do you really think Montgomery would have been involved in any more kidnappings, after shooting Armen?" Castle asked, skeptically.

Beckett sighed. "I really wish I could say 'definitely not'. I don't think he would have, but I'm not sure. But Raglan and McCallister could've recruited another rookie, or somebody else, or just continued by themselves."

"We need to know more about the kidnappings," said Castle. He pinched his lip in thought.

"Well, Joe Pulgatti was released from prison a few weeks ago, right?" said Beckett. "You sent me the link from the Ledger website."

"Yeah, and I'm still surprised about that."

"McCallister didn't say much, but it was enough that basically all the evidence against Pulgatti was tainted," said Beckett. "It's pretty unusual to appeal successfully after a guilty plea, but a dirty cop being involved can do it. His appeal was contested, but it was a token effort."

"So you're thinking that he was the one who told us about the kidnappings in the first place. We could find him and see what he more he knows."

"We could try."

"Although maybe the Dragon has already had him killed," said Castle grimly.

Beckett frowned and shook her head. "I don't think so. My mom was killed because her looking into Armen's murder might have led to an investigation into Raglan, and he — or McCallister or Montgomery — might have made a deal. They're all dead now, so Pulgatti isn't a threat. Besides, it would have been easier to have him shanked in prison before he was released."

"We should also check out anyone from the FBI who was involved in the Armen case. And anyone from the US Attorney's office."

"And anyone from the DA's office, if they were involved before the Feds took over. But quietly. They're prime candidates to be the Dragon."

Author's note: The careful analysis of what Montgomery said in the hangar and Castle's care to avoid monitoring are inspired by JimW's magnificent (but unfinished) "The Abyss Gazes Also". But that fic is about Castle working alone and following a fairly narrow line of inquiry; this fic will be about them working together on a range of leads as they attempt to unpick the conspiracy.