The Other Path

Chapter 61

"Come in, Detective Beckett," Gates invites in a low voice waving Kate into her office. "Close the door. Have a seat. Did you hear about the Dobbins case?"

"The one that got tossed for a false confession?"

"That's right. The detective involved was old school, bright lights in the eyes, assuming the suspect was guilty because he crossed his arms, inventing events that didn't happen, the whole third degree. He knew there was no physical evidence implicating Dobbins, and he had to force a confession to get a case. Fortunately, Dobbins had a decent lawyer who introduced the whole confession and showed the jury why his client made it. Dobbins also had an alibi that the detective neglected to mention. And the 54th just picked up a suspect whose fingerprints were at the scene. If Dobbins had been convicted, the case would have been closed."

"I'm glad Dobbins had a good lawyer. That's the kind of case my mother would have taken on," Kate recalls. "Most court-appointed attorneys don't usually have the time or the resources to put in that kind of work. But what does the Dobbins case have to do with me?"

"Dobbins is only the tip of the iceberg. There have been way too many cases like his. And there may be more we don't know about because they weren't kicked. Commissioner Merkle's decided he wants to remedy the situation. Precinct captains are supposed to submit the names of detectives they believe are most qualified to teach recruits how to properly conduct an interrogation. Those detectives would also supervise interrogations in their individual precincts. Only one name came to my mind – yours. Will you do it, Kate?"

Kate's fingers worry her bottom lip. "Sir, I agree with Commissioner Merkle that interrogation reforms are necessary. I've been keeping up with newer, more effective techniques. You know Castle. He'll read through anything and everything having to do with crime. I've asked him to pass on what I could use."

"Yes, as you know, I've also found Mr. Castle's speed-reading skills useful on occasion," Gates admits. "But are you willing to help implement what you've learned?"

"More than willing, Sir. But there's a complication."

"With you and Mr. Castle, there usually is. And how is he doing?"

"Pretty well. The doctor's talking about sending him home in a couple of days. But I have a medical issue too. I'm pregnant."

"How far along?"

"My doctor thinks about six weeks."

"So if you take maternity leave about seven months from now, you'll have time to put the system in place here and pick someone to fill in for you while you're gone. That's unless you're planning on leaving the department. Are you?" Gates demands.

"No, Sir. I'm a cop. And Castle knows more about taking care of a baby than I do. He raised Alexis practically on his own. We can work it out."

"All right then. I'll submit your name for the position," Gates decides. "And Kate, this could be a good thing for you and the baby. You'll be spending a lot less time on the streets, and you won't be far from a ladies' room. As a mother, trust me. As the months go along, you'll be grateful for that."

"Yes, Sir. I'm sure I will."


Excitement dances in Rick's eyes. "Kate Beckett, queen of the box. Ooh! That came out dirtier than I meant it to sound. But the title for a book practically writes itself: 'Turning up the Heat.'"

"I don't believe that's what Commissioner Merkle had in mind. I think he wants something closer to a slow simmer. But how's your great American novel coming along?"

"Since you brought me my laptop, pretty well. I think it is, anyway. It may look different when I'm off the pain meds. My editing program already called me out for using the word 'persuasive' three times on the same page. And I was writing about a politician. I could have used something with a little more oomph to it."

"You'll get your oomph back," Kate promises. "I can put you with the physical therapist I used after being shot."

"The one with the great resistance band? That doesn't sound like fun."

"No pain, no gain."

"Now, it really doesn't sound like fun. But getting out of here should be. The doctor thinks I should be able to go home tomorrow, provided I have someone to look after me. Alexis and Mother have already volunteered. Hopefully, you can save me from their tender smothering care."

"I'll do my best."


"Oh, home sweet home." Rick starts to take a deep breath before the pull in his chest forces him to rethink it.

"Couch or bed?" Kate inquires.

"Definitely the couch. I've had enough beds, or at least enough lonely beds. And hospital cable didn't have the good channels."

"No porn?"

"No game show channel. Apparently, it's on a higher premium level than their package. I need to catch up on Perfect Recall. I want to see if Kenji made it to 21-day champion."

Kate picks up the remote control and scrolls through Rick's recordings. A dapper host smiles at the contestants. "There you go. Anything else?"

"Popcorn?" Rick asks hopefully.

"According to your list, not for a month. Jello?"

"Not for at least ten years. But how about some cuddly company?"

"I think I can manage that."


Esposito's snort blows the powdered sugar from his donut off his shirt. "Gates doesn't trust us to do interrogations?"

"I'm sure she does," Kate soothes. "You guys do great work, and I've told her that. But the new system comes down from on high. When you question someone, I'm supposed to observe and intervene if necessary. But I'm not expecting it to be necessary."

"You know, Bro, Beckett could referee our contest," Ryan suggests.

Kate's eyes narrow. "What contest?"

"Being the first to solve the homicide we picked up yesterday while you were bringing Castle home from the hospital. Actually, it wasn't a homicide then," Ryan adds. "A guy, Ted Berensen, fell off a roof. It could have been an accident. But when Lanie did the autopsy, she found signs someone hit the victim in the head before he fell. She said the blow would have made him dizzy enough to stumble over the edge."

"Which makes it murder," Kate concludes. "So, who do you have coming in?"

"His sister, Cory, was listed as his next of kin. They lived together, but she was in California on a business trip. She said she'd get the first flight she could."

"Shuttle from Kennedy would get her here by ten, eleven at the latest," Esposito interjects.

"Unless you think she's a suspect, she'll just be an interview. So, I'll leave you guys to it," Kate decides. "I've still got a lot of tracking to do of Munchhausen's victims, and I need to talk to the other detectives. But if Cory gives you a suspect, or you pull one in from the canvass, let me know."

"Will do," Ryan agrees. He elbows a silent Esposito in the ribs.

"Yeah. Right."

Pale, despite her trip to California and slightly shaky, a woman wheeling a suitcase behind her stops at the 12th Precinct's front desk. "I'm Cory Berensen. I'm here to see Detective Ryan or Detective Esposito."

Desk Sergeant O'Connor consults his computer and nods. "Right. They're expecting you, Ms. Berensen. I'll have an officer take you up. As the elevator doors open, Cory takes in the buzz of the bullpen. She knew Ted was in trouble. But she doesn't know how much to tell the detectives. She doesn't even know how much she'll be able to tell.