The Other Path

Chapter 11

"I've got the ID on the bank for you," Tori Ellis calls across the bullpen.

With Rick on her heels, Kate jogs to tech. "Which bank?"

"New York First Merchants and Fishermen. The HQ is in lower Manhattan."

In the financial district?" Rick queries. "I don't remember seeing it."

"It's near the docks," Tori explains.

"Which would be convenient for fishermen," Rick figures.

"We should pay that bank a call," Kate decides. "If Drew Anniston's killer did one job for Snodgrass, maybe there were others."

"Like Mark Miller?" Rick suggests.

"From what Dr. Lyon told us, it's possible," Kate allows. "Let's find out."


A man lunges from behind the manager's desk and opens his arms to Castle. "Ricky, what are you doing here? Don't you do business with New York Second National?"

Rick Strides into a hearty hug and exchange of backslaps. "Binky, you old reprobate! How did you end up a bank manager?"

"You know what I taught you. If you put the best bait on the line, you pull in the biggest catch. I brought in accounts from most of the fleets that tie up down here."

"Rick, are you going to introduce me?" Kate prompts.

"Oh, of course. Binky, this is Detective Kate Beckett, whom I also had the incredible good fortune to make my wife. We're working on a case. I'm her consultant. Kate, this is Rupert Binkman. He's been an invaluable consultant for writing Storm's scenes involving watercraft. I wouldn't have known a stem from a stern without him."

Kate extends her hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Binkman." She holds up her phone, displaying a document. "I called the judge on the way down here. I have a court order to find out who owns this account and get a record of all his transactions. I can have the clerk transmit a hard copy if you need one."

"I do," Binky replies apologetically. "The bank has to make sure it covers its butt. But we have coffee and cookies while you wait. We get them in fresh from Kookoo Kookies every morning. They're not bad."

"The coffee would be great. I'll give the clerk a call," Kate agrees.

"I wouldn't mind the cookies," Rick pipes up.


Kate's finishing her second cup of coffee when Binky hands her a printout. "These are the records you wanted. The customer's name is Hugh Salkis. Sorry, the only address we have on him is a post office box."

Kate tosses her cup in a receptacle. "No problem, Mr. Binkman."

"Binky."

"Binky," Kate repeats. "Thanks. This should be enough to see what Salkis was up to."

"So Ricky, how about opening an account here?" Binky proposes. "A lot fewer fees and paperwork than the big boys, and our interest rates are just as good."

"I'll talk to my business manager about it," Rick promises. "But right now, Kate and I have a murderer to catch."


"Hugh Salkis has a New York driver's license," Tori Ellis reports. "I sent it to your phone. The DMV has the same PO box as the bank, but the description fits. He's six-five."

Kate regards the image on her cell. "Hmm. Black hair. This says the eyes are brown, but they look almost black too. We shouldn't have much trouble catching him on the video at his PO box. The clerk might even remember him."

"Or he might turn up on social media," Rick suggests. "One of Alexis' girlfriends had a thing for tall guys. Mooned over the basketball players. But if I recall, a website also sang a siren song to her. I believe it was called 'Enthralled by Tall." He pulls out his phone. "Yeah, here it is. Admirers of high altitude post pictures they take of the guys of their dreams." Rick starts swiping through images. "Kate! Take a look. I think this is our suspect."

Kate compares the photo on Rick's phone to her copy of Salkis' license. "Yeah, I think that is him."

Rick uses his fingers to enlarge part of the image. "And look at what's behind him, Kate. It's a Big Meal restaurant, like all the charges on his bank records. I saw it when we were leaving Binky's bank. And the post office is right next door. This is Salkis' stomping ground."

A grin spreads over Kate's face. "So if we set up surveillance there, we've got a good chance of catching him."

Rick returns her grin. "He'll probably walk right by."


"Want to split the last cronut?" Rick offers.

Sighing, Kate leans back in her seat. "I've had enough. You go ahead. I guess Salkis isn't an early riser."

"I checked. This Big Meal doesn't open until eleven," Rick offers. "Salkis may turn up to chow down then."

"I think you know almost every restaurant in the city. Have you ever eaten at a Big Meal?" Kate inquires.

"I tried one once. That was more than enough. Big Meal is no lie. They're big on quantity. The portions are enormous with unlimited seconds. But the quality suffers. The Rangers could use the biscuits as pucks. And the coffee's almost as bad as what you had at the precinct before I bought the espresso machine. Salkis may have killed Drew Anniston, but Big Meal probably killed his palate."

Kate brushes crumbs from Rick's thigh. "I don't think there's a law against that, Babe."

"Well, there should be," Rick declares. "Ooh, someone is turning the sign to open. With any luck, Salkis should be coming along."

Kate's eyes scan the sidewalk for a tall figure. Ten minutes later, one approaches. "That's got to be him, and it looks like he's going into Big Meal. I'll have the boys move in, and we can catch him on his way out."

Rick watches Salkis enter the eatery. "Those long legs can cover a lot of ground. Hopefully, he'll be too stuffed after his meal to move very fast."


His legs tightly crossed, Hugh Salkis gazes around Interrogation. "I don't know what I'm doing here. I haven't done anything wrong."

Kate zips open her black folder and makes a show of studying the papers in front of her. "That may be true, Mr. Salkis, in which case you won't be here long. But we have a few things to clear up first. What do you do for a living?"

Salkis glances down at the table. "I'm a consultant."

"That makes two of us. But I don't make a living at it." Rick tinges his voice with envy. "What kind of consulting do you do?"

A scratchy rumble emanates from Salkis' throat as he clears it. "Problem solving."

"What kind of problems?" Kate presses.

"Personnel problems."

"So you're an axman? You terminate troublemakers?" Rick queries.

"Yes. I mean no. I mean, I remove them from their positions."

Kate taps a page in front of her. "You must be very good at it. You've made almost $20,000 this month. But the thing is, Hugh, your payments coincide with the murder of Drew Anniston. You received half before she was stabbed to death and half afterward. How do you explain that?"

"I don't know a Drew Anniston," Salkis claims.

"Neither does anyone else – anymore," Rick interjects.

"And how about Mark Miller?" Kate continues. "He had an," she curls her fingers in air quotes, 'accident.' You received payments before and after he died too."

"I never heard of him," Salkis claims. "It must be a coincidence."

"Some coincidence," Rick comments.

Kate turns pages. "And there are more coincidences. Each time someone died, and you got paid. You have a lot of explaining to do, Hugh."

"I want a lawyer!" Salkis demands.

"Yeah," Kate responds, "you're going to need one."