American Crime Stories

Arc One, Chapter seven

BECKETT'S APARTMENT

The same evening Lanie was over at Beckett's apartment and was currently reading through copies of emails between Castle and Gina. "They started up about eight weeks ago, according to those emails. They rekindled after one of his book signings," Beckett told her friend.

"Oh, sweetie."

Beckett was silent for a moment. How could he? She felt betrayed and angry. All these months since their talk on the swing she had thought that Castle and she were growing closer. The reality was that he was sleeping with Gina – again. It was like a bad case of déja vu.

"I thought I knew him, Lanie. Sure, he is an immature, egotistical, self-centered jackass most of the times. But I didn't think that he would be capable of anything like that. Killing someone to protect someone else? Sure. But not cold-blooded murder."

"Are you sure, he did this?" Lanie asked her friend. She herself was not sure what was going on, but despite the evidence stacked against Castle, she didn't think that the writer was guilty. She didn't know why Beckett would think otherwise. However, it didn't matter at the moment because right now she had to be here to support her long-time friend.

"There is so much evidence, Lanie. His fingerprints at Gina's apartment, even though he says that he hadn't been there since she had moved in. The cashier's check with which he bought earrings. Earrings that we found in Gina's apartment. The bag with the wire and hooks that are identical to the ones used to bind Gina and the bloody shirt. Then there is the fact he had written the exact same murder scene and then tried to delete it so nobody could find it. And don't forget the fact that they had been in a relationship." Beckett couldn't keep the tears from falling down.

When Lanie stood up to get her friend a handkerchief, she saw Gates appear on the TV. "Hey girl, look Gates on the T.V."

Beckett looked where her friend was pointing and saw that her Captain was speaking at a press conference. She grabbed the remote control and turned the T.V. louder.

"[…] It's true that the NYPD in general, and the 12th precinct in particular, derived some benefits from Mr. Castle's presence in the past. His portrait of several detectives offered an inside glimpse at the lives of dedicated law enforcement personnel to a bright audience. However, despite his accolades as an author, Mr. Castle was just an observer who chronicled some investigations led by the trained men and women of the 12the precinct, he is not an officer. Therefore I don't know whether he thought that he could get away with his crime or not, that he was smarter than our trained detectives or not. But look at his history – he spent most of the last decade sitting around thinking about killing people. Look further back, it was reported quite often that he comes from a broken home with an itinerant mother and several step-fathers. He was expelled multiple times from various schools. Money at a young age, early parenthood and two wrecked marriages. He even has several small offences. I'm not a psychiatrist, but I'd say that Mr. Castle has some psychological problems." At this point Beckett turned off the volume and looked to Lanie. Both could see the shock on the others faces. It was Lanie who put their thoughts into words, "What was Gates thinking?"

TWELFTH PRECINCT HOLDING CELL

Several hours later, Richard Castle, who had often been characterized as a man behaving like 9-year old on a sugar rush, lied motionless on his cold steel bench in the holding cell. His hands were folded under his head and he stared at the ceiling. As procedure dictated, he was relieved of his watch when he had been processed into the holding area. Therefore he didn't know what time it was. They had brought him his evening meal several hours earlier and the guards had changed shifts since then. It should be around midnight, he thought to himself. Not that he particularly cared about that, as he wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. How could he sleep at a time like this? So many things went through his mind. He mentally checked all of the evidence that they had presented to him until now. He came to the same conclusion, as had ADA Reagan had pointed out to him during the interrogation – there was a lot of compelling evidence against him. There were the emails that laid out his motive and opportunity: a rekindled relationship between him and an extremely jealous Gina. His try to break-up the relationship that resulted in Gina blackmailing him with repercussions for his career. So, Castle offered to come over to her apartment to talk things through – at the night of the murder.

According to Reagan, he also had the means: they had found a bag belonging to him in his apartment. A bag that contained wires and hooks that were identical to the ones the killer had used to hang the dead Gina at the ceiling. Then were was the bloody shirt, HIS bloody shirt. Furthermore, the police had a surveillance photo that showed someone looking like him at a jewelry store buying earrings with a cashier's check. A check with the same amount that he was supposed to have withdrawn earlier that day. Those were the same earrings that the police had found in Gina's apartment. If that wasn't enough, they had found his fingerprints prints inside Gina's apartment. An apartment where he hadn't been since Gina had moved in few months back. And to top it all, there was the fact that he seemed to have written the exact same scenario as Gina's murder scene.

Various scenarios and theories of whom the culprit was that was framing him went through his mind.

And why? He even went through ones that would make Kevin and Espo scoff and Beckett would deem outlandish. Beckett. She was another topic that was racing through his mind. How could she believe him guilty? Guilty of brutally murdering Gina or anybody at all? What had happened for her to believe that? It couldn't be just the damning evidence. The boys, Karpowski, LT and several other members of the 12th precinct had come to see him. They all had told him that they didn't believe him to be guilty. But not her. She hadn't been come to visit him. He felt betrayed and angry. How could she? Sure, the pastweekssince the Boyan Plaza bombinghad been strained between them when he had at the he had heard her confession. A confession that she didn't know he had heard.

Castle was so deep in his thoughts the he didn't hear the door open or the footsteps approaching him. "They say dogs can smell fear." Castle didn't even need to look up to identify the speaker. That voice was one of two voices that haunted his darkest nightmares. "Did you know some humans can as well? You reek of it." Castle stood up, approached the bar to look at his visitor. All the puzzle pieces were flying together in his mind, it all made sense now. "Tyson." Castle voice was a mix of anger and fear. On the other side of the bars stood the infamous killer, his arms hanging lip at his sides. Jerry Tyson was dressed as a regular beat cop: black uniform, silver shield. Castle squinted his eyes in order to make out the other man's nametag. Castle exhaled, the name-plate identifies Tyson as 'J. Rook'. "I prefer 3XK. How long has it been since I left you and Detective Ryan in that motel room?" Tyson asked with a smile.

"Somebody! Help! Somebody, I need some help in here!" Castle tried to summon help.

"They can't hear you. Or see you, I'm afraid. I'm much more thorough than that." 3XK calmly informed Castle.

"You did this. You killed Gina," Castle accused him.

Tyson smirked at the accusatory."Don't be absurd, I kill in packs of three, remember? Here's a much more believable story. YOU killed Gina. It practically writes itself. After all, you commit murder every day in your mind for your books. It's not hard to imagine that you'd eventually cross the line and commit a real one. Especially when the victim was blackmailing you. Bad woman. Hell, that is more or less the same your Captain said about you earlier in a press conference. She doesn't like you much, does she?"

Castle didn't know what Tyson was talking about and it didn't really matter to him at the moment.

"Why did you do this, Tyson? She hadn't done anything to you."

"Four years, Castle. I gave up four years of my life planning the perfect vanishing act so that the cops would stop looking for me. So that I could begin again. So that I could begin killing again. So that I could taste that FEAR again. FOUR years. YOU ruined it."

"Well, if it's revenge you wanted, why not just kill me?" Castle asked him heatedly.

"Where's the fun in that? No, no, no. It's more fun to destroy you. Why do you think I let you live that night in the motel? People think it's killing that I like, but murder's just an act. It's all about the anticipation, the planning. Watching you and your daughter taking a walk, you and your mother having dinner at a nice restaurant. Standing in your living room, being inside your life, knowing that I'm going to take it all away from you. That's what I like."

Castle bristled at the implication of this declaration. Tyson had been stalking him. That psychopath had been inside his home. The home he shared with his daughter and mother. And he hadn't known it. For all the precautions he had taken in the past, Jerry Tyson, 3XK, had slipped through the cracks. Nausea burned in Castle's gut at the implication. He glared through the bars with sheer hatred and loathing. "You won't get away with this," Castle threatened Tyson.

3XK seems to find great amusement in Castle's threat as he mocked him."Oh, please. What are you going to do? You gonna tell them that I came here? That will only sound like the desperate pleas of a guilty man."

"Someone will," the writer insisted.

"Hm. Even if that were true…" The killer shook his head and dismissed Castle's threat that someone would uncover the truth. "Nobody will save you. There's no time. When that lovely ADA Reagan files charges tomorrow, they're going to send you to Central Booking. The Tombs. I have people waiting. For you. You. Will. Not. Last. The night." Tyson said with a cruel smile on his face. Then he turned to leave. "And that'll be their punishment. Believing that you were innocent and not being able to stop it. It'll haunt them for the rest of their life." Tyson paused. "Lucky for you, you'll be dead," Tyson sighed and paused. "I'm looking forward to watching your mother and daughter deal with your death." Tyson backed out of the holding area and left Castle to contemplate his fate.

TWELFTH PRECINCT HOLDING CELL

Castle stayed up all night to think things through. He had plans to make. The next morning Castle told the first officer that visits his cell about his nighttime visitor. Not really surprising him, the results were what Tyson had predicted.

"We went through the surveillance footage from last night, Mr. Castle. There's no evidence that Jerry Tyson was in the station. None of the cameras were disabled and no footage - not one camera in the whole precinct - shows Tyson. And there's absolutely no evidence that the system had been tampered with," Gates told Castles matter-of-factly. Next to her Esposito nodded his head. He looked frustrated.

"Captain, I swear to you he was here," he pleaded.

"Mr. Castle –"

Castles gripped the bars so tightly his knuckles went white. "No, I know. I sound crazy. A desperate story from a desperate man. Just – just like he wanted."

"You're right, it does sound desperate - and crazy," Gates told him in her well-perfected sternness that he hated so much.

Castle deflated. He had hoped that she would at least entertain the notion that he was telling the truth. He should have known better. He sighed. "It makes sense, you know, if you think about it. This is Tysons revenge for last year. For me exposing him as 3XK. First, he uses Ryan's gun, now it's my turn. And he was right: you don't believe me." It was obvious that the Captain was not receptive of the 'Tyson theory'. Castles stared Gates in the eyes. "He's going to kill me, Captain. I can't run. I can't hide. What am I supposed to do?" Castle asked heatedly. Gates didn't answer him and silently left.

"I believe you, bro. Ryan is double checking the footage. I better get back and help him." There was no mention of Beckett, but right now, Castle didn't really care. A few moments later an officer came to inform him, "Your lawyer is here to talk to you."

TWELFTH PRECINCT WORKROOM

Nearly one hour later Captain Gates, ADA Reagan, detectives Ryan and Esposito were in the workroom.

"You want the DA's office to do what?" ADA Erin Reagan asked incredulously.

"All we're asking for is a delay until we can sort this all out," Esposito told her.

"No, what you're asking for is preferential treatment for a murder suspect. You want to sort this out, you sort it out after he's arraigned," Reagan said.

"No, I don't think you understand. There's not going to be an after," Ryan argued.

"If it's his safety you're concerned about, we're prepared to put him in protective custody."

"Do you have any idea who you're dealing with? Do you even know what Jerry Tyson has proven himself capable of?" Esposito asked Reagan heatedly.

That set Erin off. "Who do you think met with the families of his victims and held their hands when he slipped through your fingers, Detective? I'm very aware of what 3XK is capable of," she told them.

"Then you should know that your protective custody isn't worth a damn. If he wants to kill Castle, he's gonna find a way to do it."

Reagan glared at Ryan and then turned to Gates. "Captain Gates, aside from the unsubstantiated claim from a murder suspect, can you offer the DA's office one shred of evidence of 3XK's involvement?"

Gates replies without hesitation. "Not at this time."

"Then we're done here." Reagan said, gathered her stuff and left.

TWELFTH PRECINCT BULLPEN

A few minutes later Esposito and Ryan were sipping their coffees. "Should we call Beckett?" Ryan asked his partner.

"No way. I spoke to Lanie. Apparently, Beckett got wasted last night. She really thinks that he's guilty. I don't know what got into her," Esposito replied, shaking his. Ryan sighed. He and his partner had talked the day before about it. Unlike their team leader or the Captain, they both had absolutely no doubt of Castle's innocence. He would never tell it out loud, but Ryan was a bit surprised by Esposito's unwavering stand on the matter. There had been a time, when he would have thought otherwise. From the three detectives, Esposito had needed the most time to accept Castle into the fold. Accept that the writer was actually helpful in their investigation. So he had been pleasantly surprised with Javier's response when he had asked him, whether he thought Castle had killed Gina. "No way, bro", Javier had replied vehemently. As pleasantly as Esposito's response had been, as shockingly had Beckett's behavior been.

"I've spent some time at Central. I've seen the Tombs. The way they stack bodies in those cells? If there's a bounty on Castle's head, protective custody isn't going to do jack," Esposito told Ryan, braking the latter out of his introspection. "And that's assuming Tyson pays off a prisoner. Could be a guard," Ryan pointed out.

"So we can't protect him. Not there," Esposito summarized. The thought made him feel sick.

Gates walked Reagan out. She glared at Ryan and Esposito as she passed them.

"We have to stop that transfer. We need evidence that 3XK was involved."

"Yeah, but we've got nothing to go on." Esposito said.

Ryan moved in front of the murder board. "Okay, to pull this off he needed access to Castle's loft. So we need to get teams over there and tear that place apart. Let them look for a fingerprint, a hidden microphone, a broken window jamb, anything that puts him there."

"Gina was seeing someone. If it wasn't Castle –"

"Then maybe it was Tyson." Esposito finished his partners' sentence. "Hit her office. Look for files, schedules, client lists. There's gotta be something that ties back to him."

TWELFTH PRECINCT HOLDING CELL

Later that day, Captain Gates walked up to Ryan and Esposito. "Detectives, it's time for Mr. Castle's transfer. I figured you'd like to be there." Despite her misgivings about having the writer in her precinct and clear conviction of his guilt, the fact of the matter was that the man had made many friends in her subordinates. Next to Beckett, who had called in sick, the two male detectives were very close to Castle and considered him a part of their team. It would be bad for moral, if she would just hand the writer over to someone else without giving her people the opportunity to show a little loyalty.

The Latino detective nodded, "Yes, sir. Thank you." He sighed, but stood up. Ryan follows him. Together the three made their way to the holding area. As they approached, an uniformed officer unlocked the door to Castle's cell. Seeing them, Castle stood up. Esposito slided open the door and stepped inside the cell. When he pulled out his cuffs, Castle dutifully held out his hands. Esposito handcuffed him gently. "I'm sorry, man."

"I'm sure you did everything you could," Castle countered without hesitation. He has no ill-will against Esposito and Ryan. "Don't worry about it, Espo. Everything will turn out okay. I'm sure of it."

"Bro, how can you be so calm?" Esposito asked.

"What other choice do I have?"

Together they walked silently into the bullpen. Esposito walked with Castle towards the elevator and the officers waiting to take him to Central Booking. Castle was still cuffed and he had to face the stares of all the people he's worked with over the past four years. Some of them nodded at him trying to encourage him; some wouldn't look him in the face.

Castle didn't really care, his mind was somewhere else. When they reached the end of the hallway, the Captain nodded to the officers. They took Castle by the arms and lead him into the elevator. Ryan and Esposito could only watch as the officers took Castle to the elevator. Together they walked in. Castle turned to look at Esposito and Ryan and he nodded to them when he caught their eyes. Then the elevator doors shut. They stood their silently for a few minutes.

"What now?" Ryan asks his partner, feeling helplessly.

"We need to find this son of a bitch and put him in the ground," Esposito growled. When they were headed back to their desk, they saw another set of officers walking up to their Captain.

"Captain Gates?"

"What?"

"We're here to transport one of yours to Central." One officer said and consulted his clipboard. "A - uh - Richard Castle?"

Gates startled and looked back to the elevator.

TWELFTH PRECINCT BULLPEN

The whole precinct was on the phone, even the Captain. "Yes, I'm looking at the transfer order right here." Pause. "Are you sure?" Gates hang up. "Central Booking says that Mr. Castle never arrived. They don't know where in the hell he is."

Gates even had called Beckett back to the office to help them searching for Castle. "No, the paperwork says that the badge number was 871324." Pause. "Right, okay." She hang up, too. "The badge numbers on the paperwork don't exist. They were imposters."

"It's gotta be Tyson," Esposito said.

"He's not going to have Castle killed, he's going to kill him himself," Ryan stated.

Gates rolled her eyes. She couldn't believe that her detectives had fallen for the crap the writer had told them. "The DA is calling it a prisoner escape." Gates told them matter-of-factly. The male detectives were shocked by that news. "They've issued an APB and instructed me to begin a manhunt."

"What? They think Castle did this?" Esposito asked incredulously.

"Well, as far as they're concerned he's well connected, knows our procedure, and has substantial resources," Gates told them.

"That's ridiculous. How could he have done that from a prison cell?" Ryan wanted.

"Well, why don't you ask his lawyer about that?"

ADA Reagan walked back into the bullpen. She was clearly unhappy. Gates saw her first. "You two keep working the Tyson angle. I've got this." She moved away to handle Reagan.

"Can you believe her?" Esposito pointed at the DA. "Branding Castle a fugitive when he's probably being held captive by a serial killer?"

"So what's our next move?" Ryan asked feeling helplessly.

During all this, Beckett didn't say a word.

IN A MOVING CAR

The two 'officers' and Caste walked out the precinct and hurriedly got into a waiting car. The driver started the car when the doors opened and drove away as soon as it closed again. They had no time to waste.

"Wow, I must confess, that went far smoother than I had thought it would be," Castle told the other passengers. That scheme had all been a crazy idea, contemplated after consuming a lot of alcohol with his friend, Marcus, a while back. However, to his delight, the first field test had been a success so far. Castle knew that he wasn't out of the woods yet. He knew that he had only minutes until the real correctional officers would arrive. Minutes before the police would start a manhunt. He had no doubt that ADA Reagan and Captain Gates would classify his departure as a prisoner escape. Espo and Ryan would possible see it as Tyson tying up loose ends and torture and kill him. He actually felt remorse for what his escape would do to them, but he hoped that they would forgive him after everything was settled. He could always lend them the Ferrari to speed along their forgiveness…

"You know, we actually have used this trick before, Mr. Castle." One of the two 'officers' told him. "In that case one of us impersonated an U.S. Marshall. So this time was just a piece of cake."

"An U.S. Marshall, really?" Castle had to chuckle at that. "I'm looking forward to hear that story in full. But we only have a few minutes until we arrive at our planned destination. Did Marcus give you a bag for me?"

"Yes, sir. Here it is. We checked it before coming out to get you. Inside are some clothes for you to change in, a purse with cash and an untraceable credit card and one of our encrypted phones." The other 'officer' handed Castle a bag. "Also, Mr. Steel told us that Carrie's is your favorite café and so be brought you some breakfast. We didn't think you would enjoy the food at the precinct." The 'officer' said and handed him his breakfast-to-go.

"Oh, that's great. Thanks guys." Castle took the offered bag. For the next minutes, they drove in silence while Castle ate his breakfast. It's true what the man had said, he loved breakfast from Carrie's Bakery. Not just because they made some of the finest (and most expensive) food in New York, but their breakfast items earned them a two star rating.

"We'll arrive at the park house in less than two minutes. Mr. Castle, I will park next to a black sedan. The tank is full and the keys are in the bag. I wish you good luck. Make sure that you don't leave anything behind," the driver announced. "Oh, I nearly forgot. Mr. Steel asked me to tell you that your family is now under 24/7 protection."

"Thank you. I really mean it. Thanks for your help, I really appreciate it."

"No worries, Mr. Castle. It's part of our job. Besides, it's good to get out of the country and get a change of scenery." As soon as they delivered Castle to his destination, the other three man in the car and their family would leave the country for a while.

A few minutes later Castle sat in his new car. He changed his clothes in the back seat and was now wearing a blue non-descriptive cap. Those several minutes reprieve returned his anxiety to a normal level. He thought about his plan of action that he has decided on last night after his unwelcome visitor had left. Now, after his successful escape from the precinct he was second-guessing his decision. But before he could waste any more time, he grabbed his new phone and looked through his contact list. It was an identical copy of list as he had saved on his last phone, which he had left at the precinct. His friends company used an app that copied all entries on one phone to a cloud. Those data could be downloaded onto any other hardware. Castle hoped that the person of the other end would pick up the phone and hear him out. And most importantly, help him. He waited for a few moments. "Come on, come on. Take up the damn phone," Castle practically begged into the phone. Then call connected, he heard a voice he simultaneously hoped and feared to hear.

"Shaw."

A/N: So, I watched "Tick, Tick, Tick…" and "Boom!" again to get as much of the personal information on Jordan Shaw as I could possible get. It is my interpretation of the whole scenario that Shaw lives in New York. She did show up to the second crime scene in what I figure must be only a few hours after the first murder. Furthermore, in her conversation with her daughter Jordan, she tells her that she would help her with her homework in the morning. In addition, in that same conversation Shaw told her daughter that she was "on her way home now" as she got into her car. That clearly points to the fact that the daughter was in the same city. Any other fact about Shaw and her family is either a figment of my imagination or that of TheBlackHand724.