Poison Pen
Chapter 58
Kate points Gamal to a chair around a table in Oakes' office, taking one opposite the Egyptian and next to Castle. "I'll get right to the point, Mr. Gamal. We have records indicating that your foundry received shipments of scrap metal from Seward Salvage. Those shipments contained artifacts either stolen from the museum or fraudulently produced by Will Medina and Rachel Walters. We know that you were acquainted with Will Medina and you financed one of his digs. Will Medina was murdered after one of his artifacts was discovered to be fake. But the N.Y.P.D. doesn't employ me to worry about trade in antiquities. I'm a homicide cop. My interest is in identifying Will Medina's murderer and developing enough evidence to make sure the killer is punished. I believe that you, Mr. Gamal, are a key to both determining who killed Will Medina and proving it."
"Detective Beckett, I haven't even been in the United States for months. How could I possibly know who killed Medina?" Gamal protests.
"Were you aware that an artifact you were slated to receive was faked?" Kate asks.
"I might have been," Gamal dodges.
"All right, Mr. Gamal. Hypothetically, for the moment, if you were aware, what would you have done about it?" Kate continues.
"Canceled payment."
"A substantial payment?" Castle inquires.
"Indeed," Gamal agrees. "And I would have sought another source of supply."
"Meaning that revenues to your existing supplier would suffer severely." Castle assumes.
"If such a thing took place, I would assume that to be the case," Gamal replies.
"One more thing, Mr. Gamal," Kate inserts, "If you were in the market for a particular artifact, how would you ensure that your supplier could identify precisely the right item?"
"I would submit an extremely detailed description."
"So, the individual involved in providing you with the treasures you seek would need a firm understanding of archaeology?" Castle queries.
"If such a situation ever came to pass," Gamal offers, "a thorough grounding in archaeology would be essential."
"Grounding, for example, with the sort of knowledge someone involved with the Archaeological Society might have?" Kate proposes.
"Detective Beckett," Gamal returns, "if I was ever interested in such a transaction, that is the type of agent I would require. Now, if there is nothing further, I would like to get some rest this evening. It is considerably later in Egypt, and I have not yet adjusted to local time."
"Of course, Mr. Gamal," Kate concedes. "In case I have further questions, where will you be staying?"
"I'm at the Renaissance, but I don't expect to stay long," Gamal asserts. "As soon as I can make arrangements with the museum for the proper crating and shipping of my purchases, I'll be returning to Egypt."
Rick smiles across the table. "If I were you, I'd extend my reservation. The museum may find that it has extensive paperwork to do before it can release your items. The wait may continue through the time it will take for Detective Beckett to satisfy herself that your 'hypotheticals' are accurate and sufficient to wrap up Will Medina's case."
The park surrounding the museum is almost empty, and quiet except for the yip of a night-walked Pomeranian. Winding down, Rick and Kate stroll hand in hand down the paths through the grass and trees. As the breeze picks up, Kate snuggles against Rick. "I really like this park. It's small enough so that people won't miss meeting up and big enough for gatherings."
"What kind of gatherings did you have in mind?" Rick queries.
"I was wondering about it as a wedding venue," Kate confesses. "It's right on top of a subway stop, so transportation wouldn't be a problem for carless guests. The museum was so great at setting up the auction, a reception there would be incredible. And if it rains on the ceremony, we could retreat inside. What do you think?"
"I think you're a genius! Out of town visitors could explore the museum and Central Park, and there are plenty of nearby hotels and restaurants. We could even arrange tours of the city. We should talk to the administrative powers that be, in the morning."
"Right after we lean on Winston Seward," Kate decides.
"Are you going to drop it on him that we talked to Gamal?" Castle asks. "Gamal didn't tell us that much that we didn't know already. He just confirmed that Merri was in charge. And you really think he's still going to be around to testify?"
"Probably not," Kate admits, "but after what I got from Jillian Norton about Winston and Merriweather, I think I can go at him in a way to make him flip on her. I'll get him brought in from Rikers, and I'll need to go into the box with him and his lawyer, by myself. But you can watch."
Castle hugs Kate to his side. "I'm going to need popcorn."
Kate checks herself in the mirror of the ladies' room at the 12th Precinct. Her heels are even higher than her usual preference. Black leather pants hug her legs, and her breasts surge hard against the confines of her leather jacket. She secures her hair in a tight bun, emphasizing her cheekbones and increasing the severity of her look. Kate half wishes that she had a riding crop, but she'd never get it past Winston's bulldog lawyer Shelby, or Montgomery. She smiles to herself as she wonders what Rick's reaction would be. He's no submissive, but he does love having her on top.
Rick almost spills the popcorn from his bowl as Kate strides into Interrogation and sidles as close as he can against the observation window without fogging the glass. Kate slams a thick folder on the table. "Mr. Seward, according to my source, you have been a very bad boy."
"Don't say anything," Shelby counsels as Winston squirms in his seat.
Kate flashes the attorney a smug look. "Mr. Seward doesn't need to say anything, Mr. Shelby, but you'd both better listen. Last night I had a fascinating conversation with a visitor to our shores from Egypt." Moisture dampens Winston's forehead. "I imagine Winston knows exactly who I mean. The discussion turned to just what it would take for my source to purchase rare and valuable objects, say Pre-Columbian, of the sort dealt in by Will Medina. If a jury were to hear what my informant told me, they could easily connect his story with the data from Mr. Seward's records. Any Joe Blow off the street could see it was Winston who had the motive to kill Will Medina. Who else could possibly fit that bill?" Winston cowers in his chair as Kate leans over him. "You're going down for Medina's murder, Winston, all by yourself, unless you start talking now."
"Don't!" Shelby warns as Winston shrinks beneath Kate's stare.
"I had nothing to do with the murder!" Winston protests. "I just did what Merri told me to. I packed the artifacts so they'd survive shipment with my regular loads and made sure the crates were blocked by metal. I played Abdamalek, but Merri handled everything else. She knew all about the artifacts, and she dealt with Gamal about the prices. When she told me he refused to buy an artifact because a lab told him it was fake, I've never seen her so mad. She screamed that there was no way we would ever be cheated like that again."
"When was that?" Kate asks.
"The day before Will Medina was killed. But I swear, I had no idea that she was going to do anything to him."
"How do you know she did?" Kate asks.
"Because there was a crowbar missing from my shop. She's the only one except me that has keys. She might still have it. She never throws anything away. Can I use the men's room? I really need to go."
Kate nods. "I'll have an officer take you."