American Crime Stories

Arc One, Chapter eight

Castle grabbed his phone and looked through his contact list. When he found the person he wanted to talk to he pushed the call button. He hoped that the person of the other end would pick and hear him out. And, most importantly, help him. He waited for a few moments. "Come on, come on. Take up the phone," Castle practically begged into the phone. When the call connected, he heard a voice he simultaneously hoped and feared to hear. "Shaw."

"Jordan, this is Richard Castle." There was a short silence. Castle heard some mumbling in the background.

"Castle? What's up?" Special Agent Jordan Shaw asked confused.

"Well, you probably have heard of my arrest yesterday and subsequently escape from police custody this morning, right?"

"Yes, the police issued an APB," Shaw told him straight up.

"Right, that's what I thought. Listen, are you in New York?"

"Uh, yes."

"Great. Would you be willing to meet with me?"

"MEET YOU? What are you… Castle, I just told you, there is an APB out on you. Don't you get that? I would arrest you on sight. You know that, right?"

"Uh, yeah. I know."

"When why would you want to meet with me?"

"Uh, you see, I had hoped you would give me ten minutes of your time. So that I could convince you that I am in fact innocent, that I didn't kill my ex-wife." Silence. . .

"You could do that on the phone. We ARE talking right know."

"Yes, but you're one of the best profilers of the FBI and I know for a fact that one of your strengths is reading someone in person." Pause. "Look Jordan, I'm sure that you signaled some other agent to triangulate my phone. Although I'm absolutely sure that that won't be successful, I don't have much time." Castle sighed. "I make you a deal. Meet me in person. If I can't convince you in ten minutes, I will surrender to you without hesitation."

"You must be pretty desperate, Castle." Sigh. "Alright, ten minutes. . .longer. You hear me?"

"Yeah, I understand."

„Okay. Tell me where I should meet you."

NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY

Special Agent Jordan Shaw sighed. She knew that she shouldn't be here. Well, she should be here, but should have taken a full squad of armed agents with her that would arrest Castle on sight. But to be honest, his phone call had intrigued her. It's been nearly two years since they have last seen each other. In fact, it's the only time they have seen each other. They had spoken once or twice shortly after the end of the so-called 'Nikki Heat'-case. She had thought about his call. Why would he call her? Why not Beckett? Why would he call any member from law enforcement? Why would he risk it? He must know that there was a high possibility that she'd show up with a squad of agents and just arrest him without talking to him. Well, she didn't think that she actually needed other agents to arrest the man. He was just a writer after all.

Those thoughts went through her mind as she walked down some steps and rounded the corner. There she slowly went on and glanced between the sets of bookshelves. She stopped when she saw a man wearing a blue cap sitting in a corner. Just as he had said, he would. As she walked towards him, he noticed her immediately and smiled hesitantly before he stood up to great the FBI agent. Jordan had to hold back a chuckle. Always the gentleman, even in his dire situation. She had noticed his gentlemen like behavior when they had first met.

"Hello Jordan, thank you for agreeing to meet with me."

"Well, what can I say? Getting called from an escaped murder suspect intrigued me. So tell me Rick, how did you do it? How did you escape?"

Castle allowed him a short smile. "Believe me, the less you know the better."

"Uhu. Now let's get to business. You said you wanted to meet me so that you can convince me eye to eye that you didn't kill your ex-wife. I have read the file and have to tell you, that the police has a solid case against you."

Castle sighed. "I know. That's what he wanted."

"Ah, you claim to have been visit by Jerry Tyson a.k.a. 3XK. How convenient," Shaw said sarcastically. She wanted to push him.

"Yeah, I know how that sounds. But before I begin to lay out my case, I need to inform you and everybody who is listening and watching, I guess," to Shaw's surprise he pointed to a brooch she was wearing, "that I have a gun packed in the back of my jeans." At those words, Shaw immediately stiffened and instinctually made to grab her gun, but before she could actually reach it, Castle extended his hands and laid them flat on the table near Jordan. The gesture was clear. "Don't worry, I'm not threating you or anyone else who's around. I just wanted you to know so that nobody reacts rashly when he or she sees the gun." Castle didn't say anything else but waited to see Shaw's reaction to his confession. The getaway driver handed him the gun when they had reached the park house. "Oh, and I have a concealed carry permit, your guys can check that," he informed Shaw and those listening and watching.

"You've got to be kidding me? You are branded as a fugitive. Every cop in New York is looking for you. And you're carrying a gun?" Shaw whispered fiercely.

"Yes. Now, can we move on?"

They stared at each other for a few moments. To Shaw's surprise it was her that blinked first. "Fine. Then tell me, Mr. Castle. Why should I not arrest you for murdering your ex-wife? You have exactly ten minutes."

"Right. Let's begin with the reason he's gunning for me…"

START FLASHBACK

NEW YORK CITY, NIGHTTIME

RANDOM MOTEL

Castle and Ryan were on their way to tell Jerry Tyson that they had captured the killer.

"Marcus Gates confessed to everything." Ryan informed Castle, but the latter didn't respond. "You get to chalk one up for the good guys. Why the long face?" the cop wondered.

"Because if this were a book, I still wouldn't understand the operation," the writer replied.

"Valve replacement. It's no big deal. My dad had one."

"Yeah, it is if you don't have the money. Who paid for it?" Castle wondered.

"I'm guessing Gates did. Maybe he stashed away some money from before prison."

"Yeah, but he was out of prison for a month. Why wait 'til now to do McCardle's operation?"

"Well … he needed McCardle to help him with Linda Russo and Kim Foster."

"Yeah, I guess."

They reached the hotel room Jerry Tyson was staying in and Ryan unlocked the door to the room. When they entered, they saw Tyson packing up his things to leave.

"Packing up?" Ryan asked rhetorically.

"Oh, just getting stuff together," Tyson told them.

"All that stuff from prison?" Castle asked.

"Ah, you accumulate a lot of stuff. You know, even in the slammer."

"You were right about Gates. He did try to go after Donna. But she's okay," Ryan tried to smooth the potential worries.

"And Gates?"

"He confessed. It's all over."

"Thank God," Tyson sighed and went back to packing.

"Aren't you going to ask what happened?," Castle asked suddenly. Tyson paused and looked up. "To your girlfriend, Donna. You didn't ask about her. You just asked about Gates. Doesn't make any sense, unless …" Here Castle trailed off and Tyson stopped packing.

"She was supposed to die," Castle finished his sentence. Ryan turned to Tyson and gave him a questioning look.

"I … I don't know what you …" Tyson said and slowly stepped forward to Ryan and Castle. The writer continued to spin the story. "And McCardle didn't get the money for the surgery until after you got out of prison." He turned to Ryan. "He's removing all evidence he was even there. It was him all along. He's the real Triple Killer." As soon as those words were spoken Ryan went to draw his gun but Tyson had moved faster. Tyson landed two solid punches at Ryan, first in the stomach and then to the jaw. Ryan went down unconsciously. Tyson grabbed the detective's gun, trained it on Castle and confessed with a sinister smile: "Guilty as charged!"

Tyson tied Castle to a chair and then went through the pockets of a still unconscious Ryan.

"That story about Gates getting arrested, that was your story, wasn't it? You were afraid you were going to get caught, so you hid in prison."

"Too bad you didn't figure that out sooner."

"Too bad you didn't leave sooner. Cops'll be here any minute."

"Looks like Detective Ryan called the precinct just before you got here. There won't be anyone missing you for a while. By the time they do, I'll be long gone." Tyson put Ryan's phone in his pocket.

"You won't get far. They already know your name, your face," Castle threatened.

"I can change those. Done that before. That's part of the fun of it."

"Fun like setting up Gates?"

"Paul McCardle was the only person in the world that he cared about. Once I learned that, the rest was easy." Tyson continued to go through Ryan's possessions. "You never know when you'll need one of these," he told Castle and showed him Ryan's badge. "Besides, Gates liked prison."

"You taught Gates everything he needed to know to take the fall for the Triple Killer murders. After that, all you had to do was pay for Paul's surgery and you can walk away scot free. That's a beautiful plan. Undone by a duffle bag."

"Not undone. I'm right here. I'll relocate, start over. It . knowing you came so close to catching me, but this is a winner take all type of game." Tyson said and pulled out Ryan's gun. Castle clearly understood the dire situation he was in. Ryan was still unconscious and other help was not in sight. So he did what he did best: he talked.

"Ah, Jerry. Shooting? It's not your style," he mocked the serial killer.

"Oh, you really don't know me at all, do you?," Tyson challenged Castle. The writer knew that as more and more time passed the chances were higher that Beckett would start looking for him. So, Castle was happy to oblige and played Tyson's game.

"Oh, it's not complicated. You were raised by a single mother. She was blonde. Oh, she was beautiful, but … she never wanted you. When you were what, twelve, I'm guessing, she died suddenly. Let's say drug overdose. You go into foster care - the bad kind. You have so much hate. So much hate towards your mother for abandoning you that you kill these women to get back at her. But you leave them looking peaceful because as much as you hated your mother, you loved your mother. Am I getting warm?" He could see in Tyson's eye that he was closer in his assumptions than the other man would like to admit.

"You' . ." Tyson slowly articulated every word. "You like to be around it because it thrills you. Now where does that come from? Your own suppressed impulses?" Tyson leaned towards Castle until they were nearly eye-to-eye. " . . . .get?" Tyson again drew every word out. "Huh?" The two men stared at each other without either speaking a word. The silence was suddenly broken by the ringing of Castle's phone. Tyson picked the phone up off the table and showed it to Castle. The caller ID told them that Home calling.

"Don't say anything you shouldn't," Tyson said and threatened him with the gun. He answered the phone, and flipped it to speaker. Castle didn't take his eyes off Tyson. "Hello?"

"Darling, I just wanted you to know, your conspiracy theories are completely unfounded," Martha Rodgers greeted her son.

"My conspiracy theories?" Castle kept his voice unnaturally – at least for him – even, but his mother didn't seem to notice.

"Uh huh. Alexis's secret admirer is Ashley. Her boyfriend," Martha told her son.

"Oh, that's great, thanks," he responded plainly.

"Yeah, and he's a very charming young man, so anyway, all's well that ends well." Castle didn't respond. There was a moment of silence. "Richard?"

"I love you," Rick told his mother. Tyson ended the call and put the phone away.

"Well, I don't think there's anything more to say."

END FLASHBACK

"Then Tyson left. A few minutes later Beckett and the police came to the motel room," Castle finished his tale.

"Okay. That is a pretty interesting story. But it doesn't tell me why Tyson would go to such lengths to frame you," the profiler stated.

"Of course it does. Jordan, I'm telling you, it's Tyson. Strangulation, misdirects, planting evidence. That's his MO."

"No. Jerry Tyson always targeted multiple victims, hence his name: Triple Killer or 3XK. So why the change?" Shaw pressed on. "So, I ask again. What is his motive be?"

Castle sighed. "He told me himself last night: Revenge. It makes sense, if you think about it. This is Tysons revenge for last year, for me exposing him as 3XK. Ruining his perfectly planned vanishing act so that the cops would stop looking for him. What was it he said?" Castle asked himself and thought for a moment. "Ah, yes. He said that it would be more fun to destroy me. That that has been the reason he had let me live that night in the motel. Then he went on how people would think that it's killing that he liked. But in reality it wasn't, because according to him murder was just an act. For him, it's all about the anticipation, the planning." Here Castle paused for a moment. "Then that psychopath told me that he had been watching me and my family. That he had been in my home," he told her getting agitated at the mention of 3XK stalking his family. Alexis. Jordan could see that his agitation wasn't played, he really felt it.

"You know, I can't even blame Captain Gates or ADA Reagan. They don't know me very well, and one even doesn't like me very much. They have to follow the evidence. Even I have to admit that the evidence clearly points to me. And the funny thing is, it doesn't really matter that I know that the evidence is wrong, because I can't prove it. You have to give him his due, Tyson is one smart s.o.b.," Castle made his case passionately. "So, the question is, do you believe me?"

"Do you mind if I call the guys watching us first, well you - and ask for their opinion?" Castle shook his head. "No, go ahead. I'm quite happy that you haven't arrested me yet." Castle said with a small smile on his lips, which he lost at Shaw's reply, "Well, there's still time for that." Before Shaw could take out her phone, it rang. She took it and walked a few steps away from Castle. "Don't move or I shoot you!," she threatened Castle.

"You're kidding?" No answer. "Right?" Still no answer. He tried to listen to the phone call, but couldn't hear anything else after the initial greeting, "Hey Avery. So, what do Ken and you think?" He remembered the first name; it was her Junior Agent who worked with her on the 'Nikki Heat'-case. "Who is Ken?" Castle mused. After a few minutes, the waiting started to grate on his nerves. He had to admit that Jordan Shaw had a pretty good poker face. Well, she certainly needed it to have one with the cases she had to deal with and the bad people she had to face. Most if not all of them, psychopaths like Jerry Tyson. Every time someone walked near him, Castle tensed. He knew that the police and DA's office would have gone public with his escape and the resultant APB. The longer he sat there, the better the chances were that someone would recognize him. Than all chances, as slim as the may be, would be gone. Even though Shaw had agreed to his proposal and did come to meet him, he had never thought that she would come completely alone. That's why he hadn't even demanded that on the phone. He had recognized the camera in the brooch on sight. What he didn't know was how many people she had waiting for him on the outside. But it didn't really matter. He had given his word and he would stand by it. What other choice did he have anyway? He had every faith that in the end the truth would prevail. Oh, it wasn't his believe in the justice system. Castle knew better than to think that the justice system was infallibly. He was neither an idealist nor an idiot. And he still had an ace up in his sleeve, but he had decided early on to take the wait and see approach. And now he was waiting. Castle hated waiting. What was Shaw doing anyway? Ahh, here she comes, at last.

"Alright, Castle, follow me." He had dreaded those words. "Okay, Agent Shaw. I gave you my word and I'm keeping it. I won't make any fuss." Castle grabbed the magazine he'd been reading and put it into his bag. "Do you want to have my gun now," he paused as some visitor walked by them, "or when we're in a less public place?"

"What? Oh, no. You can hold on to it. You might need it to shoot Tyson," she told him flippantly.

Castle stopped walking and let out a quick exhale, "So…so you believe me? About Tyson?"

"Yes, so does Avery and Ken." Again with that name.

"Who's Ken?"

"My old teacher." Castle thought for the moment, trying to remember everything he knows about Jordan Shaw. He had researched her in the past when he was looking for possible people to base a character on.

"Ken Carpenter?"

"You know him?"

"No, I know of him. He's a living legend in profiling. One of the founding members of the BAU. When he took over Major Crimes, the department's arrest record was a staggering 89 percent. One of the highest percentage ever measured. It's even more impressive when you consider the number and severity of the cases they dealt with. Last I heard was that he had retired around five years ago." Shaw chuckled; she could hear the excitement in Castle's voice.

"So, it seems that Ken does have his own fan-boy. Oh, he didn't retire. In fact, he's waiting outside in the car. And he is still listening in."

"Oh. That's great," Castle said with a little embarrassed. "Hi, Ken."

They walked in quite for the rest of the way out. Leaving the New York Public Library, Castle saw a black van.

"I guess that's you guys," he said to Shaw and pointed to the van. "Very…FBI-ish. So, does that mean, it does have a lot of surveillance equipment?"

"Yes, to both questions. What did you expect? You only gave us a few minutes to arrange everything. So, we took the first truck we could." She walked up to the side door of the car, but stopped before opening it. "Oh, and Castle? Don' .anything! Are we clear?"

Castle made a face as if someone had told him that Santa wasn't real. Shaw chuckled and opened the door. She stepped aside to let Castle in first. "Castle, you know Agent Avery."

"Nice to meet you again, Agent Avery. Despite the circumstances," Castle greeted the Agent with a handshake.

"And this is the 'living legend', as you called him, Agent Ken Carpenter, my old teacher." Castle turned to greet the man. Ken Carpenter was the very definition of the word grandfather. At 62 years old, he had thinning hairs and a full-beard. He looks a lot like Kris Kringle, came to Castles mind. The man had six grandchildren and unlike other Special Agents, he has pictures of them hanging on the walls of his office and not his fancy diplomas from Harvard and Yale. Ken came to work every day and sat in the same big comfy chair. In the same corner office. On the same floor. Wearing one of ten brown tweed suits he owned and he did it with a big smile on his face. He had done so every day for the past five years. If you had met him six years ago things would have been very different. Back then Ken ran the department and he lived and died with every case - and he taught his agents to do the same. He pushed each of them to never give up on a case. To work every detail and every fact into the ground until you were sure they held no value to the case. As Castle said earlier, during Carpenter's tenure as lead, the department's arrest record had been a staggering 89 percent.

The downside? After nearly thirty years it had given him a massive heart attack that almost killed him. On that day he had made a deal with his wife. No more running after murderer. No more new cases. No more stress. Just good old comfortable Ken, the guy just waiting for his retirement surrounded by pictures of his family. He handed off the title of department head of Major Crimes and took over Cold Cases. There he was supported by Probationary Agents who also worked for Major Crimes. And even in this task he had some successes. Together with his team he solved a few cases, but there was no pressure to get them all. In addition, he still taught classed on profiling regularly, but he had never touched a hot case file in five years. So, when Jordan had walked into his office earlier that day and sat in front of his desk, he had been intrigued about what she was about to tell him. And he hadn't been disappointed. A murder suspect who called the police wasn't anything new. Even one who had just escaped police custody was nothing to him. A suspect who asked for ten minutes of an agent's time to meet face-to-face in order to convince said agent of his innocence? Well, that was new even to someone with such vast experiences like him. That the suspects name was Richard Castle, was a bonus. So, he didn't hesitate when Jordan had asked him to accompany her to the meeting in order to give her his opinion.

"Hello Agent Carpenter. It's an honor to meet you. As you have probably heard, I'm a big fan of yours," Castle greeted the older man.

"Mr. Castle. It's nice to meet you. My wife is a huge fan, we have every book you have ever published at home," Ken said amicably.

"Call me Rick, please."

"Then I'm Ken."

"Okay, okay. You can open a mutual admiration society later. I think we have a killer to catch," Shaw told the men.