Flu

Chapter 41

Before fastening her seatbelt in her unit, Kate passes Castle Pierson's suspect list. "Do any of these match up with what you got from the yearbook?"

Rick studies the cramped script. "Pierson writes like he's still in prison. I guess old habits die hard. I see several matches here, but if we go with the profile that Pierson proposed, two of them look most likely to inflict a head-detaching blow. According to the background checks I ran on the way up here, they both have an association with athletics. Neither of them ever played professionally, but one is a scout for the Mets. With the thing you and your dad have for the Yankees, we'll have to consort with the enemy. The other is a manager at a sporting goods store."

Kate's teeth dig into her lower lip. "Not bad jobs, but if those men had their hearts set on going for the prize, both disappointments. Where are they now?"

"The scout, Lonny Mathis, and it figures, lives and works in Queens. Sammy Levinson, the sporting goods guy, resides in West Hartford, Connecticut. Neither location is exactly on our way back to Manhattan. But remember the place that you promised would be?" Rick reminds her.

"Oh yeah, the cider stand. Right now, I wouldn't mind something hot and spicy myself."

Rick gulps. "Um, is anyone at your dad's cabin at the moment?"

"Not that I know of, but since Mom died, he's only had a single bed there. He doesn't want any reminders. And I am on duty."

"As the walls of the old tech office could testify, neither time nor space has stopped us before."

"I was on lunch break," Kate protests. "But I'm looking forward to the cider and," she winks, "whatever else heats up when we get home."

Sighing, Rick settles into his seat. "It's going to be a long drive."

From a back table where he's enjoying pie with Holly Maigret, Mark Newhouse unobtrusively observes the customers at the Pumpkin Castle. Business has been brisk most of the day, peaking around traditional coffee break times. He considers adding an entrée like Pumpkin soup or risotto, to snag more of the lunch crowd. He might also be able to sell something more substantial to the writers who hang around through much of the day. Their steady thirst for coffee and snacks provides some revenue, but something more like a meal could kick it up a notch. He'll run the idea past Rick when the author checks in. From what Mark gathered from Castle's call that morning, he and Kate were headed up north on a case, but he'll stay in touch.

Mark has managed service operations for celebrities before, but none who were constantly off on the trail of a criminal. He supposes it's better than having them chase after some supermodel, not that Kate Beckett couldn't have been one if she'd chosen to. She would look great in a publicity shot or two, but according to Rick, since she always faces the possibility of undercover work, she's a bit camera shy.

Tapping an icon on his tablet, Mark checks the downloads of Holly's music and holds up the graph for her to see. "You're doing great."

Fork halfway to her mouth, the violinist smiles. "Being able to fund lessons for the kids will be terrific. I'm going to ask my management to devote a slice of the receipts from my Christmas concert series as well." She closes her eyes, savoring the sweet and spicy filling in a flaky crust. "And as soon as I finish this, I need to go practice. "I'll be recording live, so I can't afford any mistakes. I can put aside a ticket for you in the front row at Carnegie Hall if you can make it."

A scenario begins to form in Mark's head. "I wouldn't miss it."

Kate slams the car door after pulling her unit into its slot at the 12th. "You'd think going counter to traffic, we could have moved faster than 25 miles an hour."

Rick consults his watch. "Good thing standard time hasn't kicked in yet; it's still light. You can decompress on our walk home. Alexis is studying with Paige tonight. I can cook us up something fast like omelets, and we'll still have the evening."

"All right, sure," Kate agrees. "Sounds OK, but do we have some of the good chocolate?"

Rick leans down for a quick kiss. "Always."

At 10:00 a.m., Lonny Mathis hurriedly beckons Kate and Rick into his office. "We'll need to make this quick. I have to catch a plane out of JFK to the Dominican Republic. There's supposed to be a kid there that's beyond belief. So you wanted to talk about Professor Wernick? To tell you the truth, I've done my best to forget about her. You know Marlon Brando's line: 'I could've been a contender?' When that witch knocked the pins out from under me at Hudson, I believed that. The thing is, I thought she liked my work. I was at college on a baseball scholarship, but I'm not a bad writer. I did the sports column in the Hudson Herald. But in Wernick's class, we were reading a book about a baseball legend. It was one of those semi-magical deals, like the movie with Robert Redford. Anyway, I questioned the author's understanding of the game, and Wernick just went crazy. She gave me an F on my next paper and a D in the course. I lost my full ride, but I finished my degree at City College."

"You must have really been pissed off at Professor Wernick," Castle prompts.

"You know, at first I was, but I had a heart to heart with my coach. He told me what I really already knew. I was a good college player, but not major league level. I would have never made it to the show. So finding a way that I could still be part of the game I love and not have to worry about injuries or getting older was the right way to go. I love my job, and I expect to love it for a long time. She'll never know it, but that old battle-ax did me a favor."

"So here's the million-dollar question. Who did she come down on who wouldn't have considered it a favor?" Kate asks.

"A lot of people," Lonny replies. "She gave a bunch of students the shaft."

"Of that lot of people, who would have had the wherewithal to kill her?" Kate presses.

"Anyone with decent upper body strength, I guess. Listen, I'm only making a shot in the dark here, but when she went after Sammy Levinson, he couldn't shut up about how he'd get back at her. He used to blow off steam lifting weights. I saw him press 290 pounds. If he wanted to kill her, he could have done it." Lonny's eyes flick to the multiple time zone clock on the wall. "I'm sorry I have to go."

"Of course, Mr. Mathis," Kate agrees. "Thank you for your time."

Lonny grabs a briefcase and a duffel bag from behind his desk. "You're welcome, Detective. I hope you find the murderer. The old bat was crazy, but she deserved to be fired, not murdered."

"So, what do you think?" Castle asks as he and Kate make the walk from Lonny's office back to her unit."

Kate pulls her car key out of her pocket. "I think we're going to West Hartford."