A Murder Below Zero

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: There's zero chance that I own Castle. Rating: K Time: In an AU future.

Rick walked up to Finn and smiled.

"Finn! Good to see you again. How've you been."

"You know how I've been since this morning, and I assume you're here to talk about poor Jackie. I have nothing to say."

"I did want to talk about Jack Coonan, but really I came here to do you a favor."

"A favor?" Rourke's eyes narrowed. He suspected something.

Rick walked behind the bar and grabbed a bottle, then pulled a similar bottle from his coat pocket.

"Now this is a bottle of Strathclyde whisky. Now, genuine Strathclyde whisky is spelled without an "e", W-H-I-S-K-Y, like on my bottle. But the bottle I got from behind your bar spells it with an "e" as you can see. You should have a long talk with your supplier. I suspect he's cheating you. Selling you cheap booze and charging a high price." He handed both bottles to Rourke. "I'd hate to think that your customers might find out that you've been unintentionally selling them cheap booze at premium prices. Who knows what they might do? Some underpaid soldier might get angry."

"I'll check with my supplier." Finn grunted and put both bottles on the bar.

"Jack Coonan was working for the government as an informant. How did you feel about that?" Rick said, quickly changing the subject.

"He did what he had to do. He told me he'd been recruited by MinSec to spy on some uptown clowns. He had me follow him to Lukas Street and I saw him go in. He came back out an hour later with no broken bones, so I believed him. Not much either of us could do, seeing as how MinSec was involved." Finn glared at Ed, who just smiled back.

"Did he have any trouble with any of his clients?"

Rourke laughed.

"Them? They thought that the height of revolutionary activity was writing a poem with "classical allusions going back to Old Earth." What a bunch of assholes. They thought Jackie was a true proletarian, ground down by the establishment. They never saw how he lived." Rourke shook his head. "The whole of them couldn't have given Jackie trouble."

"Anyone else have a problem with Coonan?" Ed asked.

"You could make a list of those who don't like me and mine, as I'm sure you have. I can't add to it. Now, if you'll excuse me, we'll be having a little wake for Jackie."

Once back in the vehicle Kate had to ask a question.

"I'm positive Rourke makes that rotgut whiskey in an illegal distillery somewhere near Victory Street and Pinero."

"Indeed, he does." Rick confirmed. "He sells the good stuff to his regulars, but everyone else gets the imitation whisky. I just reminded him of what would happen if someone found out about it. Some three months ago a sailor got rolled in a bar not too far from here. The next night several hundred sailors showed up at the bar and wrecked the place. That was a bunch of sailors. Just imagine what might happen if a couple of hundred Parachute Assault troopers thought they'd been cheated."

"How would they find out?"

Rock shrugged and smiled.

"I have no idea, Detective."

Just then Kate's phone rang.

"Beckett." She replied. There was a long pause and then she said, "Thanks, Lanie." And hung up.

"That was Dr. Parish. She and your doctor have finished the autopsy. We can go get their report."

"Let's go."

When they got to the Ministry of Defense morgue, they found Lanie and the doctor called Tom waiting for them. There was one body on the table, covered with a sheet.

Lanie spoke.

"As we expected, he was stabbed to death. We also think this is the work of a professional."

Kate nodded.

"That stands to reason. Damned few amateurs could take out one of Finn Rourke's enforcers."

"The angles of the entry wounds indicate the thrust to the kidney was the first and killing blow. Coonan went into shock and died of that wound. The other stab wounds were inflicted when Coonan was on the ground, probably to disguise the fact that it took only one stab wound to kill him. A waste of time since any ME would assume someone like Coonan was killed by a pro."

Dr. Tom spoke.

"I did a tomographic image of the knife." He held out a plastic looking blade. "It's a type used by some Special Ops soldiers."

"Just some?" Kate asked.

"Most Special Ops types prefer a longer, stronger blade that can not only be slipped between someone's ribs, but that can chop wood for kindling, or cut down brush to clear a field of fire or camouflage your position." Rick said. "The knife used to kill Coonan is too small to be of any use for those things."

"But the smaller knife is more concealable." Tom added.

Lanie looked at Kate.

"Sweetie, I had a hunch on this, and I looked up the records of your mom's murder. The wound pattern is the same as your mom's and although we can't do tomography, it looks like the same kind of blade was used."

Kate was shocked. She stumbled backwards, but Rick caught her.

"You okay, Kate?" He asked.

Kate took several deep breaths.

"I will be, Rick. Just give me a few minutes."

She took several more deep breaths before speaking again.

"Are you saying the same person who killed Coonan also killed my mom?"

Lanie and Tom shook their heads.

"All we can say is that the same type of knife was used and the same killing stroke was used as well." Tom said. "I'd guess there's more than one person out there who kills like that and uses a blade like that."

"Do you have anything else for us?" Kate asked.

"Not really. I'll send you a full report on the autopsy." Tom replied. "And I understand the MinSec forensics team found nothing, but they'll send you a copy of their report as well."

Kate nodded.

"Okay, thanks. We'll be on our way." However, she just stood there, staring straight ahead.

Rick put his arm around her.

"Come on, Kate. I'll take you back to the precinct."

Once in Castle's armored vehicle, he spoke to her.

"Your mother's murder is why you became a cop, isn't it?"

"How did you know…" She stopped in mid-sentence. "Of course, you know everything, don't you?"

"Everything? Not even close. But we do look into the people we're going to be working with. Do you want to talk about it?"

Kate shook her head.

"No. I mean, maybe…I don't know."

She sat for several seconds and then began to speak."

"I was in the army, a telecommunications sergeant at 2nd Army Headquarters. I got word she'd been stabbed to death, but we were in the middle of the Tookan Valley offensive. By the time I got leave to go home, the investigation was old news. The idiot Constabulary officers that investigated it had decided at once that it must be a vast plot by the old Loyalists or the Levelers. The found nothing, of course. When I was discharged, I went into the Police Academy. I tried to follow up on the murder, but too many years had passed. Now, I try to keep anyone else from having to go through what I went through. Losing a loved one and never getting closure."

The armored vehicle pulled up in front of Kate's precinct.

"You going to be okay to drive home?"

"I can manage, but thanks."

Rick reached into the rack above their heads and got out some packages.

"I saw how you reacted to real coffee, so I had one of my people get you four one-pound bags of real coffee. Enjoy."

"Four pounds!" Kate said. "I don't have enough ration coupons for even one pound."

"Lucky for you, it's a gift."

Kate smiled and thanked him, and quickly got out of the vehicle and then drove home. Once inside her apartment, she took a frozen dinner out of the refrigerator and heated it up. She decided she'd have a cup of real coffee for her dessert. She had just started making the coffee when there was a knock on her door.

"Lanie?" She said as she opened the door.

Lanie rushed in and turned to Kate.

"Tell me all about it, Sweetie. Is he good in bed? Has he taken you anyplace nice, I mean really nice? Where did you meet? Is it serious or just a kind of fling? I mean, a fling would be nice, but you really need a man, a good man, in your life. Well, spill, girlfriend."

"Who are you talking about?"

Lanie shook her head,

"Duh! Rick, of course. The one who calls you Kate and puts his arms around you."

"We met today. I call him Rick because everyone in his unit goes by their first names and I told him to call me Kate because it seemed…easier than Detective Beckett. He put his arm, one arm, not arms, around me because I was sort of stunned hearing about my mom's death. That's the first new evidence I've heard of in years. We are not, repeat not, a couple."

Lanie looked disappointed.

"Still, he likes you. I can tell by the way he looks at you."

"His look probably means he wants to get in my pants."

Lanie smiled and shook her head.

"No. I've seen that look on men a lot. His look means that he likes you. And what's not to like?"

"Well, we've only known each other for a day, so don't get your hopes up."

"Okay, but tell me all about…" Lanie stopped and inhaled deeply. "Is that coffee? Real coffee?"

"He gave me a couple of pounds of coffee. I was just making some. Would you like some?"

"A couple of pounds of real coffee? Two pounds?"

Kate blushed. She knew she'd regret this.

"Four one-pound bags, actually."

"Four pounds! My God, girl! He's in love with you!"

"Lanie…"

"Do you have any booze in the house?"

"A bottle of pretty good Strathclyde whisky. I keep it for…"

Lanie grabbed Kate's hand and dragged her into the kitchen.

"We'll put as nice shot of whisky in the coffee….Do you have any whipped cream, Sweetie?"

"No, I don't have any."

"No matter. Real coffee. And then we'll talk. You'll tell me all about him."

By the time Lanie left, Kate was convinced that her best friend was mentally planning her marriage to Rick. Well, let her dream. Kate had work to do.

The next day when she got to the precinct, she was immediately called into the office of the precinct captain, Captain Victoria "Swinging" Gates. Gates had made her name as an undercover Vice cop. No one knew just what Gates had done to convince a lot of very bad men that she was a very bad girl, but it had worked. But there were lots of rumors and that led to her nickname.

"What are you working on?" Gates demanded.

"I can't really tell you, Ma'am. I'll tell you that it involves MinSec, Tenth Directorate. If they have your office bugged, I could be in trouble just telling you that."

"You think MinSec has my office bugged?" Gates demanded.

Kate shrugged.

"I have no idea, one way or another, but I always assume MinSec knows what's going on, one way or another."

Gates looked around her, suspiciously.

"I don't like this, but there's nothing I can do about it."

"One thing, Ma'am. I did get a pound of coffee from the Special Ops people for the precinct."

"A pound of real coffee?" Gates' eyes lit up.

"A pound of very good coffee."

"We'll have to ration it so no one gets more than their fare share. Have the coffee machine put in the middle of the bullpen and have your team keep a list of who gets what."

Kate did that. She was happy that once the news got out that there was real coffee in the precinct, no one on her team asked about her case with Rick. All they cared about was if she could get any more coffee. She didn't mention that she had received three pounds for herself.

TBC