Poison Pen

Chapter 7

"Flamey sent his email from here?" Castle questions, looking around a Victorian-style tearoom. "Do they even serve men? All the customers I see are women, mostly of my mother's generation or even earlier."

"According to the data I received, he did. His email provider had the same alias he used for the chat room, and the address he gave was bogus. This place is the only link we have. And with the number of cellphone and tablet users I see taking advantage of the free Wi-Fi, messages may be flying out of here. Considering that we don't have a clue what he looks like, the clientele in this place should make it easier to spot a man." Kate signals to the hostess. "Let's get a table. The spread on that high buffet doesn't look half bad."

"No, it doesn't," Castle agrees, "and I got hooked on scones when I had a stop in London on a book tour. I enjoy British tea, too. They make sure the water is hot enough so that it brews properly. They don't drink the sweepings from the tea warehouse floor that are passed off as 'brisk' to the American public, either."

"I know what you mean," Kate agrees. "In college, I did a semester in Russia, and I learned to appreciate chai. Sometimes I go and sit outside a café in the Russsian enclave and pretend to be a Muscovite."

Castle's eyebrows perform a wave. "Tsk, tsk, Detective Beckett. What's the penalty for perpetrating a fraud on the innocent public?"

"Not so innocent, Castle. I've overheard snippets of code-speak that sounded like machinations of the Russian Mafia, something to do with buying condos. I wouldn't be surprised if the Southern District of New York recruited Russian-speakers to investigate money laundering operations."

"Hmm, if I hadn't killed Storm, that might be a good jumping-off point for a book. I'll file it away just in case. Thank you, Detective."

"You're welcome, Castle, but right now, I'm more interested in anything we can pick up about François‐Marie Arouet or whoever he really is. When the server comes, follow my lead."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Schmulie Rodriguez gazes with satisfaction at the new occupants of a table within his station. The few men that eat at the tea room usually tip a higher percentage, probably because they know they stick out like a sore thumb. The checks are usually heftier, too. Guys either order the bigger sandwich assortments or opt for unlimited access to the buffet. Either way, it's more money in Schmulie's pocket. Arranging his face in his most obliging smile, he hurries to take an order.

Kate smiles up at the eager waiter, noting his nametag. "Schmulie, I adore traditional tea." She gestures at Castle. "But, my friend skipped lunch and is looking for the most substantial thing on the menu."

Schmulie nods his understanding. "We do have an option to fill your plate at the buffet as many times as you choose, but I would also recommend the large assorted sandwich platter. Some of the sandwiches contain roast beef and can be quite filling. You won't find any meat at the buffet, although the bread and butter sandwiches, fruit and pastries are excellent. Or you might wish to combine a sandwich platter with one trip to the buffet that you can use to choose accompaniments and dessert. We have another client very fond of that option. He feels it makes quite a full meal."

"I take it this place doesn't get very many male customers," Castle remarks.

"We have very discerning patrons," Schmulie responds, sidestepping the question as best he can, but if any other men arrive, you should see them shortly. So, the platter and the limited buffet for the gentleman?"

Castle inclines his head toward Kate. "Ladies first."

"I don't eat much meat. I'll take full access to the buffet," Kate decides.

"And I will follow your suggestion," Castle adds.

Schmulie nods, jots down their choices on his order pad, and bustles away.

"You don't eat much meat?" Castle questions Kate after Schmulie's left to put in their order. "This from the woman who attacks the sausage on the sausage mushroom pizza before she even picks up a slice."

Kate rolls her eyes. "Castle, I was giving myself an excuse to go to the buffet table whenever we see a man, besides you, picking up side dishes and dessert there. If Schmulie is right and if Flamey shows, it should be any minute. And Castle, we may see a reaction when he spots you. Your face is on the jacket of every one of your books. If a guy shows up, make sure he sees you. While he's staring, I may be able to sneak a picture."

"I should have known, Detective. Always one step ahead."

"Just don't eat anything our possible suspect goes near. We don't know what he poisons besides pens."

"Roger that."

Simon has been looking forward to strong tea, roast beef, and sweet cakes all day. Later, he'll have to clock in for his job cleaning the library, but he spent much of his day trying to figure out how to get to Richard Castle. As far as he can tell from the Castle and Black Pawn websites, the so-called author has no more book signings scheduled any time soon. Castle lives in New York, but so do over 8 million other people, and the writer's home address isn't listed anywhere that Simon can find. He needs the atmosphere of the tea room to plan his next step.

As usual, the hostess seats Simon in Schmulie's section, not far from Rick and Kate. Schmulie knows how to make the regulars happy. The server approaches pen in hand. "Your usual Mr. Arouet?"

"Yes, please," Simon confirms. "And bring the tea right away."

"Yes, Sir. I'll be right back."

Castle shifts in his seat as Schmulie moves out of the way, giving the suspect a clear three-quarter view of Rick's face. Kate watches as expressions first of shock, then loathing appear on the new arrival. She brushes Castle's hand, giving a barely perceptible nod. Under the table, she sets her phone on camera and jams it in her pocket, ready for action."

Schmulie returns with tea, followed by two sandwich platters, one for Simon and one for Castle. Ten minutes pass before Simon makes the short walk to the buffet table, and Kate and Rick also casually arrive at the sumptuous assortment. "The egg-glazed pastries look amazing," Castle remarks, turning to a man who could try to poison him any second. This is my first time here, but the server seems to know you. What's good?"

Simon's hand fists in the fabric of his pants. "What? Oh. Yes, those pastries are quite elegant. Scones with Devonshire Cream are traditional, but these small cakes are exceptional."

"Hmm," Castle considers, doing his best to hold the man's attention long enough for Kate to snap her photos. "The cream probably wouldn't do great things for my cholesterol levels, but I'll take your advice about the cakes." Castle grabs the two confections furthest out of Simon's reach. "Thanks."

"Think nothing of it," Simon responds. "When you discover what a gem this tea room is, you won't be able to wait to come back."

"Yes," Castle agrees. "I'm considering a return trip already." He glances sideways at Kate, who subtly taps her pocket. If facial recognition can find the real name that matches the face, they may have their killer.