The Other Path

Chapter 12

Kate points at her computer screen. "I just got a report from CSU. They checked Salkis' DNA against the DNA from Drew Anniston's body that they couldn't match before. They have a match now. We've got him!"

Esposito turns from his desk. "His lawyer's with him in Holding now. You want them in the box?"

"You better believe it," Kate declares.

From beside her, Rick beams. "Shall I make popcorn?"

Kate shakes her head. "No. You've been with me on Salkis all the way. You should be in there with me now. And Salkis' height is more in his legs. Sitting down, you're taller than he is, and you have wider shoulders than he does. That helps with the intimidation factor."

"Nice to know that needing custom-made shirts is an advantage."

"But let me do the talking," Kate cautions.

Rick pulls an imaginary zipper across his lips. "As unaccustomed to it as I am, silence."


"Detective Beckett?" The man sitting beside Salkis inquires. Kate nods. "I'm Joshua Horn, Mr. Salkis' attorney."

Rick clamps his jaw to avoid coming out with the obvious biblical joke.

"I've advised my client not to say anything," Horn continues. "And I've already started the paperwork to get him out of here. A bank statement is far from enough evidence to hold him on homicide charges."

"That's arguable, Mr. Horn," Kate replies. "However, your information is out of date. The bank records are now the least of your client's problems – unless he can explain how his DNA turned up on the dead body of someone he claimed not to know."

Salkis' eyes widen. He swallows and whispers in Horn's ear.

Horn draws a deep breath before turning back to Kate. "We need someone from the DA's office in here. My client wants to make a trade."

"What has he got to trade?" Kate demands.

"The origin of the cash transfers."

"Then you and Mr. Salkis sit tight," Kate instructs. "I'll make a call."


Before she turns her attention to Horn, the hard eyes of ADA Toni Gonzalez skewer Hugh Salkis. "You led Detective Beckett to believe you have a proffer worth my time. I'm waiting to hear it."

"Mr. Salkis was hired by a prominent member of the city government," Horn offers.

"We already know that from financial records," Toni returns. "I need a name."

"And we need a deal," Horn argues, "transactional immunity."

"We have strong evidence that your client committed at least one murder. We also have indications there were others. And we have a tie to his boss. The only thing your client can do is cement our case. No immunity. The most I can promise is a recommendation for a minimum sentence."

"That's not enough," Horn insists.

Gonzales' chair scrapes against the hard floor as she rises from her seat. "Fine. We can build a case without him. And he can spend however long he survives in Attica."

"Wait," Salkis calls as Toni walks away from the table. "Not Attica! I've heard what happens there. I'll testify, but not Attica."

Toni turns back. "Then we have a deal, Mr. Horn?"

The attorney's shoulder's slump. "Yeah. Write it up. Mr. Salkis will sign it."

"Wow!" Rick exclaims from behind the mirror in Observation. "I'm glad she's on our side this time. When Jerry Tyson framed me for murder, she was willing to send me upriver and throw away the key."

Kate interlaces her fingers with her husband's. "Yeah, but this time, it's Snodgrass she wants to toss in a hole. And I wouldn't mind shoveling some dirt on top of him."

"Yeah." Rick agrees. "Me either."


Two unfamiliar figures approach Kate's desk. One of the men extends his hand. "Detective Beckett, Mr. Castle, I'm Darren Nelson, from Squad Five of the New York Department of Investigation. As you might know, we look into the corruption of city-elected officials. He gestures at the man behind him. This is Liam Feldstein. He's with Squad 10, which oversees the City's Department of Design and Construction."

"Until we ran in to each other this morning," Liam goes on to explain, "we didn't realize our investigations were related."

"And I believe related to one of yours," Darren continues. "For some time, my squad's been tracking the activities of Councilman Snodgrass."

"And mine has been looking at Building Commissioner Credwell," Liam adds. "It would appear they're currently working together. And Snodgrass also worked with Credwell's predecessor. In both cases, they corrupted the bidding process."

Rick's head swivels as he watches the byplay.

"And we believe that the murder of Arlie Spinrad and perhaps Drew Anniston were part of that scenario," Darren finishes.

"If you don't mind my asking," Rick inquires, "how long have you two known each other?"

Darren reddens, "Liam and I were best buds at Camp Ookinoochi when we were ten. But we lost touch and didn't know that we both worked for the Department of Investigation until we were in line together at a coffee cart. When we started catching up, we realized that we'd been looking at two ends of the same puzzle. And I knew that the NYPD was investigating Spinrad's murder. So things just fell into place. And we thought we might trade information."

"We'll probably have more of it after our suspect signs a deal with the DA and tells us what he knows about Snodgrass," Kate offers.

"Which should be a lot since he's been committing murders for him," Rick sticks in.

"Suppose I give you both a call when we're ready to take his statement?" Kate offers.

"That would be great!" Darren agrees, digging a card out of his pocket.

Liam hands his card to Kate a second later. "Looking forward to it."

"Those two remind you of anyone?" Rick asks as the elevator doors close on the visitors.

"Esposito and Ryan?"

"More like you and me. I'm betting they'll be cutting a wedding cake before the year is out."

"Then not like you and me. It took us seven years. And we didn't have a cake."

"True enough," Rick concedes, "but then we were never best buds at camp. Who knows? We could have had all kinds of fun together. But then again, not the kind of fun we're having now." His eyes flick to the wall clock where the minute hand clicks straight up. "End of shift. How about some playtime when we get home? Naked Twister?"

"Or we could savor the anticipation. How about strip poker?" Kate proposes.

"Even better."

Kate's stomach rumbles. "But you should feed me first. Do we have any leftovers from Berlati's?"

"Sadly no. Still, there's no reason we can't pick up fresh sustenance along the way. Any requests?"

"Surprise me."

"I'll call ahead right now."


Snodgrass paces his office. He and Salkis had an agreed-upon check in, and Salkis didn't make it. He doesn't dare call the man directly, but he did check police action in the neighborhood. There was an arrest right outside of the Big Meal. For the life of him, Snodgrass can't understand why Salkis would eat the slop the place serves, but he's praised it to Snodgrass several times. Snodgrass pulls open his desk drawer and grabs his bottle of Johnny Walker Black label but can't find his glass. The hell with it! Sometimes you can't bother with the niceties. He takes a swig without one.

A/N Thanks to coyotepup4 for posting about The New York Department of Investigation. I had no idea there is such a thing but was happy to find out.