Flu

Chapter 25

At the peak of his swing's arc, Rick hears the creaky whine of protesting metal. As he's almost to the trough of his downswing, a link gives way entirely, dumping him on the ground.

Kate jumps down beside him. "Are you OK, Babe?"

Rick massages his bruised posterior. "I think so. That's never happened to me before, but maybe when you get to my size, it's better to leave the antics to the kids. I hope my crash isn't a bad omen."

Kate extends her hand to him. "Falling is only a bad omen if you don't get up again." She pulls Rick to his feet.

He grins. "Or don't have a remarkable wife to help you up." He looks around. "But I can't just deprive some child of fanciful flight and walk away. I should at least pay to replace the swing, maybe all of them, so they'll match."

Kate looks around. "It's not a police matter, and I don't see anyone around to tell. They probably only have Parks and Rec guys at the bigger parks. I guess you could drop them a line."

Rick punches a query into his phone. "Got them! Mea culpa submitted. We should probably go before I break anything else."

"We should be heading back to the precinct," Kate agrees. "We are part of the skeleton crew."

Rick massages his abused behind. "Fortunately, my bones have enough well-muscled flesh on them to provide some protection."

Kate wraps her arm around his waist. "And all of it is my wonderland."

Kate and Rick step off the elevator, as Ryan and Esposito come toward them. Ryan holds up a sticky note. "Good, you're back. We've got a fresh one."

"Where?" Kate asks. Ryan hands her the address. "That's only four blocks from here."

"And right near the park we just came from," Rick notes, reading over her shoulder.

Kate turns back toward the elevator. "Let's go."

Lanie is kneeling beside a body when the three detectives and Castle arrive. "What have you got?" Kate asks.

Lanie brushes herself off as she stands. "A mess. This guy has what look like defensive wounds, except that they came from a serrated blade."

"Like a serrated knife?" Kate queries.

"More like a hacksaw. I'll know more when I get him back to the lab. And before you ask, he didn't have any I.D. on him. From the state of his hygiene, I'd guess he's homeless."

Kate turns to Ryan, who nods. "I know, start a canvass of the area."

Rick absently rubs at his injury. "That still bothering you, Babe?" Kate asks.

"What? It's not that bad, but I was thinking about it. Hacksaws cut metal, Kate. What if the link breaking wasn't an accident. What if someone sabotaged it?"

"Why would anyone do that?"

Rick shrugs. "Because they hate kids; because their teacher made them memorize 'How Do You Like to Go Up In a Swing?' I don't know. But I want to take a look at that link. Perhaps I confessed my guilt too quickly."

"I want to walk the murder scene first and see if we spot any clues to what happened here. But if it will make you feel better," Kate allows, "we can check the broken swing on our way back to the 12th."

Castle points to a wrapper lying on the grass, not far away. "That could be a clue right there. Maybe our killer liked ice cream. The trucks come through here. Perhaps the purveyor of chilled confections saw a Fudgy-Bar loving killer."

"Or maybe the victim bought one. Either way, it's worth checking out. I'll bag that and see what else we find."

Castle snaps a picture of the broken link of his swing and uses his fingers to expand the image. "Look at this, Kate. The part that gave way is kind of rough and toothy. I've seen the edges of spoons and things that break because of metal fatigue. They don't look like that."

"I'll have the lab take a look, Babe." Kate allows. "But if this was done with whatever left the wounds on the victim, what would that mean?"

"Damned if I know," Castle admits. "But I have bits and pieces of a story coming to me. Sooner or later, they'll fit together."

"I'll seal off the area until the lab gets here, and we'll see what Osnitz can tell us. In the meantime," Kate adds, "we need to find that ice cream truck."

Castle gazes at the swing as Kate works with a roll of yellow tape. "Too bad we don't have Alexis as a mole anymore. It was nice getting lab results right off the presses. She has to be back in school in a few days, but I bet she misses being immediately in the know."

"I'm sure she does," Kate agrees.

"What the f*** do you mean you can't get me on a plane?" Dino shouts into his phone. "The paper, the T.V., everything says that no one's buying tickets. The flyboys should be begging for business."

"That's not the problem," Marco DeLonghi, Carlucci's second explains, glad that he doesn't have to do it in person. "For regular flights, you check in, show your I.D., your passport, no problem. On some of the private flights, they look the other way, but they still have to land somewhere. The airports, even the little ones, keep records."

"Not the strips our drug flights come into," Dino points out. "Why can't we use one of those?"

"Closed down by the flu."

"All of them?" Dino demands incredulously.

"Yeah, all of them. One of the pilots from Mexico brought in some bottles of the good tequila. He got together with his buddies to hand them out, and they all caught the bug and passed it around. It'll probably be a couple of days, maybe a week, before things are running again."

Dino gets seasick, even on the Staten Island Ferry. His stomach hates anything that bobs up and down on water. But he's desperate. "How about a boat? There's got to be a boat to somewhere I can get a plane."

"I don't know," Marcus admits. "Maybe the compound we took over from the Cardanos in the Hamptons has one. I'll check it out and get back to you."

"Get back to me fast, Marcus," Dino orders.

"On it, boss."

"That's what Carlucci said," Dino mutters.

"Yeah, I parked around there for a while," ice cream vendor Juan Cara recalls. "Wasn't much business. You know, the flu. Still not that many people out."

"Did you sell a Fudgy-Bar?" Castle asks.

"I sold a few of them. The ladies like them. Fewer calories than ice cream."

"How about to men?" Kate pushes. "Did you sell one to a man who looked like he might be homeless?"

"Guys like that, I give the ice cream for free. But there was a man who bought one, right near that little park."

"Do you remember what he looked like?" Kate questions.

"Not his face. I'm not good with faces unless there's something different about one, like a big mole or something. But I remember he had a leather belt with a tool holder hanging from it."

"What kind of tool?" Castle queries.

Juan shakes his head. "I'm not sure. I could just see the handle sticking up."

"Could it have been the handle of a hack saw?" Castle presses.

Juan's head bobs slowly. "Yeah. I guess it could. Oh, and he paid me with a five-dollar bill. I remember because everyone always has twenties from ATMs."

"Do you still have it?" Kate asks.

Juan digs in his cash drawer. "It's here. Right on top of the pile."

Rick holds up a $100 bill. "Trade you."

Juan looks at Kate. "Is he serious?"

Kate pulls an evidence bag out of her pocket for the five. "Better make the deal before he changes his mind."