The Other Path Chapter 86
"He's going to be OK here," Rick decides as Cronut joyously explores the Hamptons beach house. "The trick may be getting him back to the city. But I guess I can always promise him, um, you know what."
"Since you filled a whole shelf in the kitchen with it, I hope so," Kate replies. "Are you ready to hit our first venue?"
"Uh-huh. I thought we could go to the Club Club."
"Are you stuttering?"
"No, that's what the place is called. It specializes in upscale club sandwiches."
What makes them upscale?"
"The prices, mostly. But all the bread is artisan and you can order a CLT instead of a BLT. The 'C" stands for caviar."
Kate sticks out her tongue and wrinkles her nose. "No thanks. Anything normal?"
"Actually, the chicken salad isn't bad at all. Free range of course."
Kate rolls her eyes. "Of course. So which of the patrons might know Bornstein?"
"I don't know about Bornstein, but several of the regulars are big into real estate. Chances are good, they'd know where to find his house. That's the info you need, isn't it?"
"It would be a great start."
"So how do you know about this place?" Kate asks after their server, Colin, carefully places two tall sandwiches with sides of arugula salad and fresh fruit in front of them. Colin had looked slightly amused by Kate's request for pickles, but she got them.
Rick takes a sip of his virgin piña colada. "When I was looking for a beach house, my agent brought me here several times. Actually, our visits paid off. We overheard that the guy who owned the house before me was heavily invested with Lehman Brothers before it went down in the recession. He had to sell the place fast. I practically stole it. And my interior designer liked to come here too. She was always on the lookout for new clients. But she could never finish one of the sandwiches here. She always gave me half."
"Well, I'm not giving you half of mine," Kate declares. "I'm already sharing it."
"Who ordered the pickles, you or the baby?"
"That was a joint decision. Hey, is that Vinny Cardano coming in? Who's the guy with him?"
"It's Vinny all right. He's lost weight but you can't miss the scar – or the attitude. I've never met his companion, but I saw him at one of Shapiro's parties. That's Les Villacana. He owns a substantial chunk of the island, including much of the coastline. He and the fishermen trying to make a living out here have had their run-ins. A few boats mysteriously blew up."
"You think Vinny helped him with that?"
"I don't know. I believe Vinny prefers a more direct approach. The Cardanos have never been subtle. But if Villacana needed access to explosives or personnel willing to plant them, Vinny could have aimed him in the right direction. They seem pretty buddy-buddy. In any case, that purple house would be unlikely to remain standing if those two decided to remove it."
"Could one of them be a Bronstein client?" Kate wonders.
"Not Vinny. Given his macho persona, it would embarrass the hell out of him to ask anyone to procure sexual services. If he couldn't get what he wanted on his own, he'd never admit it. And the families very strongly encourage marital fidelity. It prevents unwelcome pretenders. But it's possible that Villacana indulges his appetites there. And I've heard rumors that he's very plugged in, by way of large contributions, to the local political machine. He has enough influence to keep law enforcement from trying to shut down whatever's going on in that house."
"Even Chief Brady? He eventually showed some backbone when we solved that murder out here."
"The house could be outside Brady's jurisdiction. And you've seen his department. Even if that house is within the limits of his village, he couldn't begin to go after an operation like that. He'd have to call for help. And if Villacana's protecting Bornstein's operation, Brady's pleas would go unanswered."
"If that's true, you think Brady would be willing to tell us?"
"Maybe not me, but he'd tell you. You're a real homicide cop. Last time around, he practically fell at your feet. You want to go see him?"
"Might as well," Kate figures, "after we finish lunch. These are good pickles."
"Glad you and the kid are enjoying them."
Grinning, Brady extends his hand. "Castle, Detective Beckett, great to see you. Sorry for the little misunderstanding last time around. And congratulations! I heard you two got married. No need to keep anything under my hat now. But what brings you here? You don't have another dead body in your pool do you?"
"No dead body," Rick assures the uniformed chief. "But Kate could use your help on a law enforcement matter."
Brady's mouth gapes. "My help? I'd be honored. What can I do for you?"
"Chief, are you aware of a large purple house with water access?" Kate queries.
"Visitors there receive some interesting services," Rick adds.
Brady's smile retreats. "I've heard about the place. It's out of my territory, on Montauk Point."
"But close enough to be an embarrassment," Rick guesses.
"To me and most of the other village cops on the island," Brady agrees. "But there's nothing any of us can do about it. Some of the, uh, clients, have a lot of pull."
Castle nods. "Yeah, we expected that."
"Can you tell me where it is, exactly?" Kate asks.
"Sure, I can show you on a map, but I don't know what you can do with the location," Brady admits.
"Just show me," Kate urges. "I'll take it from there."
"She'll do something," Rick asserts. "You can count on it."
"We got what you wanted, but you don't seem very happy about it," Rick comments to Kate as they take the expressway back toward the city.
"Oh, I am. I'll take what I have straight to DA Cyrus. He'll push to take down Bornstein's operation no matter who's trying to protect it. I was thinking about my class. I don't believe they're buying into the department's new attitude about interrogation. Every so often they drop the act enough for me to suspect they're just trying to get through the class and get on with what they think cops should do. I need something more than statistics and role-playing to get through to them. But I have no idea what."
"Kate, I can remember when I had a hell of a time trying to get you and Montgomery to think out of the box. You were both sure that Kyle, the developmentally disabled man you arrested for the copycat murders, was guilty."
"All the evidence pointed to him," Kate argues.
"But the story didn't. For someone who had never been violent to kill the one person who helped him get his life together, didn't track. And when you finally saw the story instead of the standard 'here's the evidence; he's the perpetrator' scenario, you went after the actual murderer, the sonofabitch who killed his own sister."
"I remember. I also remember that you could have gotten yourself killed trying to go after him yourself. But what's your point?"
"My point is that when you learned to see the stories as well as the bare evidence, you went after the real bad guys. When more cops can see the stories, they'll be less likely to force false confessions. They'll want to search for the actual guilty party. So tell your students about the stories, Kate. Let them see how destructive the old ways can be."
"I don't know. You're the storyteller Babe, not me. If I'm going to teach my students to see the stories, will you help me?"
"Detective Beckett, it would be my pleasure."
