The Other Path

Chapter 70

Frowning as he stares at his keyboard, Castle gives Ryan the bad news. "You're not going to like this."

Ryan gazes over Rick's shoulder. "What?"

"It's an article about a rally protesting the denial of medical services to 9/11 first responders. The Veterans for Human Rights were present en mass at the time Ted Berensen was murdered."

"One of them could have slipped away," Ryan suggests.

"Why? They had no way of knowing Berensen would be on that roof. From what you and Beckett told me, Maris Schrader spotted him by accident. It had to have been someone else."

Ryan's fist pounds the corner of Castle's desk. "Sonofabitch! What am I going to tell Gates?"

"That you did your job and eliminated the vets as probable suspects."

"But Javi wants to help them with the caravan to Canada."

"An admirable endeavor, whether for crimebusting purposes or not. I doubt the captain would oppose his participation, as long as the NYPD isn't paying for it. Have you ever noticed how she grits her teeth when you try to submit expenses? Or maybe that's only when I try."

"No, she does it with everyone. And she'll do it even more if I can't come up with a new suspect for this case."

"So, you still need someone who had the motive to slug Berensen in the head, the ability to do so, and knew he'd be up on that roof. Who besides Maris would have had eyes on him?"

"A maid, Rosita, saw him go up there. She saw Maris too. But none of the other hotel employees said they saw anything."

"But would a killer admit to seeing his victim?" Rick queries.

"Damn! No! Of course not. Javi and I need to reinterview the hotel's employees."

"Only the ones capable of swinging something heavy at Berensen's head," Rick points out. "That should trim your list a little."

"Yeah. And if Javi goes to Canada, he won't be leaving for a couple of days. We can get it done before then."

"Good luck, Buddy."

Cronut adds an encouraging bark.


Trying not to breathe the steam, Kate hands Kelly Robinson-Jenks a cup of coffee as they settle into the lounge. "I appreciate you coming to talk with me so quickly. Your brother's death must have been quite a shock."

"It was," Kelly admits. "As far as I know, Georgie didn't have enough to do with people to make anyone mad enough to kill him. He told me he had a dog. That was as much company as he wanted."

"Yes, Cronut," Kate acknowledges. "He found my husband in the park and led him to your brother's body."

"Poor thing. So where's Cronut now?" Kelly asks. "Is he all right."

"He's fine. For now, he's with my husband. Did you want to take him back to California with you?"

"I wish I could. I'm allergic to animal dander. So is my husband. So we live in a condo association that doesn't allow pets. But I'm glad someone's taking care of Georgie's dog. Do you have any idea who killed my brother?"

"Actually, I was hoping you could help me with that. I know you said he didn't have much to do with people, but can you think of any reason someone would have wanted to harm him?"

"No. I didn't talk to Georgie much. But we emailed. He liked the long-form better than texting. He was a stickler for grammar. I suppose you'd call that a job requirement."

"Did he write to you about anything at all out of the ordinary?" Kate probes.

"You know, now that you mention it, he did. He told me that many passages in a manuscript he was working on seemed very familiar, but they weren't quoted or attributed. He'd never worked for that author before, so he wouldn't have seen previous work. Georgie said he was going to ask about the passages when he sent back his notes."

"Do you know the name of that author?"

"Georgie didn't tell me. But ever since he was a kid, he was obsessive about keeping records. He used to put them down in a ledger. Then he switched to a computer."

"Our crime lab people found his computer. It just had his editing work on it."

"Georgie told me he kept everything in the cloud. That way, if something happened, he could recover his records from anywhere."

"Do you know what service?"

"No, but I think it was billed through his cellphone."

"Our tech should be able to trace that. Thank you, Kelly. That helps a lot."

"Just find out who killed my brother. He was a little strange, but he was a good man. I loved him."

"We'll do everything we can," Kate promises.


"Yo, Beckett!" Esposito calls from the hall outside Interrogation. "Ryan and I have a suspect. You sitting in?"

"Who is it?" Kate asks, striding toward the detective.

"Maintenance guy from the Roosevelt. Name's Neville Crep. He was off when Ryan and I canvassed the staff the first time. But it turns out he was working on one of those ventilation things that spin on the roof around the time Berensen was killed. He would have seen him up there. And he's tall enough and strong enough to have hit him."

"Does he have a motive?"

"We don't know. But he was very nervous when we said we were NYPD. We need to find out why."

"You read him his rights?"

"Yeah. He said he doesn't need a lawyer, that he didn't do anything wrong."

"All right. Let's get to it."

Neville Crep has the muscular arms of someone who regularly wrestles with heavy machinery. As she did with Maris, Kate sits at an angle to him while the boys start the questioning.

"Mr. Crep, you do maintenance for the Roosevelt Hotel. Is that correct?" Ryan inquires.

"Yes," Crep answers cautiously.

"And you were on the hotel's roof before Ted Berensen fell to his death," Ryan continues.

"I don't know about that," Crep claims. "I'd have to check my work order."

"We checked your work order, Mr. Crep," Esposito interjects. "You were up there. Did you see Ted Berensen?"

"How could I tell? I didn't know any Ted Berensen," Crep insists.

"Do you often see people on the roof?" Ryan asks.

Crep shrugs. "Sometimes. I don't know who they are. They don't bother me; I don't bother them."

"But you must have seen Berensen," Ryan presses. "Or was someone else up there?"

"I don't know. I was paying attention to my work. You grab one of those ventilator blades the wrong way, and you can slice yourself open."

"Have you ever sliced yourself open, Mr. Berensen?" Kate queries softly.

"Yeah."

"What happened?" Kate asks.

"What happened? I'll tell you what happened. The unit I was putting in was a cheap piece of Chinese crap. The blade detached, slashing my leg. The doctors almost had to cut it off. And I was off from work for almost a year. I lost my house and all my savings."

"Ted Berenson sourced machinery from China," Ryan realizes.

Crep's face blazes red. "That f***ing bastard! He ruined lives so companies could save a few bucks. And I heard a lady talking to him about helping people in pain. He just put her off. Someone had to make him understand."

"So you tried to convince him," Ryan prompts. "Maybe you were just going to talk to him. But he put you off too. And that made you mad, so mad you couldn't see straight. So you did what anyone would do."

"Damn right I did! That man needed to feel some pain. But I …." Crep pulls in a shaky breath. "I want a lawyer now."

Kate nods. "That would be a good idea."