Flu
Chapter 39
"It had to be all the way up there," Rick complains, staring at the bankers box on the top shelf of a metal rack.
"I saw a step ladder about ten rows back," Kate recalls.
"Never mind, I can reach it. Mother is always telling me I should stretch more. But then, she thinks everyone should start the day with a salutation to the sun."
"As opposed to trying to pretend it's not up and burrowing back under the covers," Kate teases. "Just be careful. We don't want the evidence picking up contaminants from this floor before we get started."
The cracking of Rick's knuckles echoes from cinderblock walls as he ponders the scene. "Wow, the dust of hundreds of cases waiting for the sunlight of truth to reveal true perpetrators. A veritable chorus of cries for justice. I can get the evidence collection down, no problem; it's not very heavy. That may not bode well." Castle carries the cardboard container to the nearest table.
After pulling on a pair of gloves, Kate opens the box. "You were right. There isn't much in here. But the clothing with the blood is, and it looks like the lab bagged it after analysis, so the D.N.A. should still be in good shape. Let's get it to Osnitz, and then we can go through whatever's left."
"Would you mind running over to C.S.U. by yourself? I want to check in with Mark, and then I can get started going through what paperwork we have. I might find something before you get back. Besides, Osnitz still likes you better. Scratch that. He likes anyone better than he likes me. One day while you were still out with the flu, he suggested to me that Alexis and I should get our D.N.A. tested. He claimed that he didn't see how such a brilliant girl could be my daughter. And Meredith did fool around," Rick adds.
"Which would not account for that cute little crescent I saw on Alexis' butt when we were changing out of our bathing suits at the Hamptons house. It's just like yours, except smaller."
"Fortunately, her butt is smaller, too. But you're right. By some miracle, Alexis is my daughter. Osnitz can shove his opinion, but I still have a feeling that I should get started on the files ASAP. Having a mysterious beheading come our way this time of year seems like an omen."
"Or you want an excuse to talk about severed heads."
"That too," Rick concedes.
"OK, Babe. Knowing you, you'll have some wild theory before I get back."
Rick straightens up, jutting out his chin. "I will endeavor to produce a highly probable hypothesis prior to your return."
As the elevator doors close behind Kate, Rick sinks into the chair seat irretrievably molded to his behind and picks up a file. The detective's report gives a detailed description of Lisa Wernick's clash with James Pierson but contains no details about interactions with her other students. Other than a brief mention of Madeline, there's nothing about Lisa's personal life either. No wonder the box was light. A Detective Snelling decided Pierson was good for the murder and didn't bother developing leads to anyone else. It's the kind of policing Beckett rails against, and Rick's not crazy about it himself.
Madeline had insisted on putting her number in Rick's phone, so she'd be positive that he had it. He's sure Kate will want to interview her, as well as any of Lisa's students besides Pierson, who might still be in New York and remember the incident. He checks his phone for an online version of the last Hudson University yearbook put together when Lisa still touched young minds, but can't find one. However, the university library will have a copy, and he's always had luck with libraries.
"I want to talk to Pierson," Kate announces after Castle gives her a rundown on what he found while she was gone.
"He's not about to have warm fuzzy feelings for cops," Rick points out.
"Yeah, but he won't have them for whoever killed Lisa, either," Kate suggests. "Pierson spent all those years in prison while the real murderer ran around free, and has never had the satisfaction of seeing him caught. That's got to frost him enough to want revenge. We just have to convince him that we can help him get it."
"We may have some trouble finding him. Madeline told me that after he was released from prison, Pierson dropped out of sight. And the settlement he received would be enough for him to live on anywhere he wanted to go," Rick figures.
"But if there's money, there's got to be a trail," Kate protests. "The city doesn't like to do lump sum awards. If it can stretch out the payments, inflation makes the money less valuable with time."
"Count on bureaucrats to be sneaky. So how do you find out where the money's being sent?" Castle wonders.
"There's a guy I went to Stuy with who works in the Comptroller's Office. I'll call him and ask."
After quickly scanning through the contacts on her cell phone, Kate makes the call. Rick's expression darkens at the sight of her smile and the strand of hair twirling around her finger as she talks with her fellow Stuyvesant alum. "Just how well did you know this guy?" he demands when she finishes her call.
Kate shrugs. "We went to a few poetry slams together, and he was my chemistry lab partner."
Rick's knuckles whiten. "My chemistry lab partner and I ended up in the supply room looking for more than filter paper. How long did you and comptroller-guy date?"
"The guy's name is Arnold Finsterer, and we dated until I left for Stanford. We decided that a long-distance relationship wouldn't work, but we stayed friends."
"So, I noticed. So, is your friend going to find out about Pierson's checks, or do you have to meet him at another poetry slam?"
Kate wraps her arms around Rick and pecks the tip of his nose. "Relax, Babe. Arnold's going to check the records and text me the information. But I did promise him an autographed copy of Heat Wave. It turns out he's a Nikki Heat fan."
"Yeah," Rick grumbles. "I bet he is."
Savoring the last sip of Castle's newest breakroom creation, Kate hears the ding heralding the arrival of Finsterer's text. "The city's been sending the checks upstate. I know this town. It's not far from my father's cabin. It's too late to drive up there now, but if we start out first thing in the morning, we should be able to make it there and back in a day. We could have a pretty drive. The leaves are beginning to turn."
"All right," Rick agrees. "I'm a sucker for fall foliage, especially when accompanied by hot apple cider."
"There's a stand that sells it not far from the cabin too."
"Sold!" Rick declares, "and we can settle in for a quiet evening tonight to gather our strength for the trip."
"Actually, I was thinking that we might go to a poetry salon tonight. Arnold told me he's reading some of his original work."
Rick's chair crashes to the floor as he springs to his feet. "Kate! What the hell?"
Kate grins, rolling her eyes. "Oh, Babe, sometimes you're such an easy mark. Actually, I have three days' worth of Temptation Lane to catch up on. The writers have been foreshadowing double-crosses and deceit."
"When aren't they?" Castle asks. "I have to get some work done for Black Pawn, anyway. So, find our own temptations afterward?"
"Sounds perfect."