"Mrs. Steward, I am afraid that won't be possible."
Yes, every muscle and sinew in her body thirsted for the chance to get her to spill the beans on her husband. But under the circumstances, they didn't have the privilege to wait until after the elections.
"You and I both know it is going to be significantly more difficult to indict your husband once he has that Senate seat in Washington. We have to do it today."
The other woman shook her head sternly, her eyes watery when she glanced back up.
"I know it must be hard for you to understand, Detective Beckett, but I stood by my husband all these years, throughout the affairs, throughout the prostitutes and questionable business transactions with people I knew were criminals. I shrugged off his lies, always dressed the part when it was time to show face and most of all, I stayed faithful. I need for him to become a senator, it's the only way for me to rise alongside with him, reach a new class of people, and eventually, hopefully, gain enough popularity and power to divorce him without any consequences. Why can't you wait a few more weeks? That poor girl is already dead. I doubt she'd care."
The incredible selfishness of Pamela Steward's words hit Beckett like a freight train and she fell quiet for a moment, having to rearrange the questions in her head considering her careless audience.
Castle caught onto it and cleared his throat, drawing the other woman's attention toward him.
"Mrs. Steward, your husband is a killer and a predator…amongst many other things. The longer he is free, the higher the chance he will strike again. So, while you are saying that Shelley Richardson may not care about the outcome of this investigation since she's already dead, what are you going to say the next time this happens? Who's to say he will stop at murdering now? What if he's not after a prostitute the next time…but after you, because he might suspect that you talked to us?"
"Rick has had many chances to kill me if he wanted to. That's what makes this so…intriguing. He needs me as much as I need him. Our marriage was never more than a mutual business relationship."
Growing increasingly frustrated with the inconsiderate attitude from across the table, Beckett got up from her chair, the wooden legs squeaking against the vinyl floor, then barged out of the room, beelining it to the murder board where she grabbed the photo of a deceased Shelley Richardson.
Then she headed over to Ryan's desk to find the chilling picture that had been sent to Montgomery after her and Esposito were kidnapped.
"Here, in case you need a reminder of just what exactly your husband has been up to.", she growled upon returning to the interrogation room and placing both pictures in front of Pamela Steward, relieved to see her flinch at the sight.
A tense silence ensued as she stared at Richardson's bloodshot, dead eyes, then let her gaze drift over to the picture of them being held in that dark, cold storage room.
"And while we're at it, why don't I call Shelley's parents right now so you can tell them why you want to hold off on getting your husband charged for some personal agenda of hitching a ride to a higher societal cast."
At her stern words, Castle slowly rose from his chair, his warm eyes scanning her worriedly before he inched a step closer, acting like a guardian shadow standing beside her.
"This girl…Shelley…she was in a dangerous business. She tried to blackmail my husband, get him to pay her more for her services or she'd talk to the press. She knew this might happen-", Steward began when Beckett shut her up by slamming her palms onto the desk.
"Is that the kind of bull that makes you sleep at night?!", she yelled, then pointed at the grainy picture showing Esposito tied to the ground, "What about him? He's a cop, so he knows the risk and it's ok that he was hurt? What about me? It's ok that I was held captive and tied to a chair, being threatened and watching my partner get beaten? I am asking because you see, you are in a dangerous business too. You deal with the public, you pay good money for PR work to make sure you're always well represented. After all, you are in a higher society than the rest of us bottom feeders, isn't that correct, Mrs. Steward? Well, maybe in exchange for the disgustingly careless attitude you have shown today, I might just drop a line or two about your husband to the local gossip papers, see how long it will take for it to make the rounds and irreversibly tarnish your reputation. Because, after all, you knew the risks when you got into the business, right?"
"I paid a dear price to be where I am today…", Steward growled, just to be cut off again, this time by Castle.
"Shelley paid for her mistakes with her life. She will never be able to finish college, never become a teacher, never change lives for the better. Her family is forever scarred. Two police officers were injured trying to solve her murder. Where do you draw the line, Mrs. Steward? When is enough going to be enough? When is the price of death and destruction going to be too much to pay for your ranking in the high-falutin society of New York's Upper Class?"
As Castle's words echoed through the small room, Steward looked down, no longer able to meet their critical stares, no longer trying to justify her demand.
Instead, she drew in a deep breath and shook her head, fighting an internal battle in the tense silence.
Finally, she looked back up and pushed the plastic bag toward Beckett.
"You will find Rick at home. He's with some…female company. If you leave now I am sure you will still catch him in flagranti"