Shattered Lies
Chapter 8
Her cell phone slips from Kate's fingers to her desk as she sits, her eyes unfocused. She needs to see Castle, but she can't go anywhere. She picks up her phone again. At least she can Skype.
When the image of Kate's drawn face appears on his screen, Castle can feel his stomach twist. "What's wrong?"
"I got a report from the Southern District on the calls going in and out of the Conchiglie building. The Spinellis have decided to make an example of me. They haven't just put out a hit. If one of their soldiers is successful in taking me out, he moves up in rank - and gets a new condo. Can you believe it? It's like a crowdfunding campaign. They're offering perks."
"Unfortunate fallout of our times. So what happens now? Safe house?"
"I don't know, Castle. An FBI protective squad is supposed to be on its way to the 12th to meet with me. I guess I'll find out the plan then."
"How are you handling this?"
Kate unconsciously pushes back her hair. "Right now I'm just numb, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But there may be an upside to the situation."
"What could be the upside to having a whole crime family after you?"
"That it is all about me. They're not after you, or even trying to get Perlmutter shanked in jail. You'll be safe, and with them concentrating their efforts, it will be easier for the Feds to predict their activities and close in on them. That should make 'Operation Shell Casing' go faster."
"Operation Shell Casing?"
A hint of amusement tugs at Kate's lips. "Uh huh. Someone either in the FBI or the Southern District office got the idea from Conchiglie. The operation is supposed to encase the shell."
"Eww. Sounds like something a rookie writer would try to put in a crime novel. But then I had a few less than adept phrases in some of my earlier works. Can you let me know if the Feebies are going to spirit you off somewhere?"
"I hope so. But if you don't hear anything don't worry. I will be surrounded by Feds with guns."
"I will worry. It wasn't that long ago that a protected witness and your pal Sorenson were shot while surrounded by Feds with guns. Kate, promise me you'll take care of yourself."
"I will, Castle. I promise."
Kate could swear that Special Agent Murphy stepped out of a 1940s movie. He has the blocky build, suit, tie and shiny shoes that fit the image to a "T." He even wore Fedora, but politely took it off and put it in front of him when he sat down in the conference room. She half expects him to have a Tommy gun. He gets right to the point. "Detective Beckett, at present, you are the focus of the Spinelli family's activities. They have suspended many of their operations with one goal in mind, to send a message that when they want to expand their business, no cop should try to get in their way. They've gone to some effort to put the word out on the street. They'll be expecting us to stow you in a safe house. And if you want us to, we can do that."
Kate leans across the table. "But you don't think it's a good idea."
Murphy fingers the rim of his hat. "Frankly no. The concentration of attention on you will bring the whole Spinelli army out into the open. That will give us our best chance of rounding up as many of them as we can, and also finding cooperating witnesses who can spill the beans on the inner workings of the organization. We can let their arrogance work against them."
Kate slowly lets out a breath. "So they're the rats, and I'd be the cheese."
"That's the size of it, Detective, yes. But you will be protected. We'll have people here at the precinct, at your apartment, and at least two cars trailing you wherever you go. And if you want to keep your N.Y.P.D. detail, we can coordinate with them. But the choice is yours. If you want to be put into protective custody, we will do it right now."
"Take care of yourself, Kate," rings in Beckett's mind. How can she do that? If she hunkers down in a federal hiding place, she could be there forever, with Spinellis just waiting for their chance to take her down. She would never really be out of the crosshairs. But if she goes along with Murphy's plan, the Feds could gut the Spinellis, and she'll at least stand a chance of being with Castle again. Her choice couldn't be clearer. "No safe house."
Martha sweeps into Castle's room. "Richard, are they actually going to let you go home today? Women used to stay in the hospital longer than this to have babies."
"I suspect that was before the insurance companies started making the rules," Rick responds. "Anyway, Mother, I'll be better back at the loft. Someone can come in to handle the messier aspects of caring for me, and I'll be away from the nasty bugs that thrive in purported places of healing. Also, I'll have a lot more TV channels."
"Honestly, Richard, sometimes you're impossible. But you're a grown man, in years if not maturity. It is your decision."
"Actually, it's the decision of some bean counter, but in this case, I like it. Kate had to stop coming, and the walls are closing in on me here. I want to go home."
Kate regards the bullpen. The shift has changed - again. How long has she been at the precinct? Twelve hours? Fourteen? She feels safe here, as safe as she can feel anywhere. And she's been helping out the other detectives by taking on some of their paperwork, unpleasant as that activity is.
But she should really go back to her place. It's unlikely even the cockiest Spinelli will try to earn his condo by shooting her here. Her apartment is close enough to walk to, but that would put too many innocents in the line of fire. She can drive, surrounded as unobtrusively as possible by her federal shadows. The Spinellis could attempt an attack on the New York City Streets, or try to approach the building where she lives. Either way, they should be caught up in the FBI's net. The sooner the fish are filleted, the better.
Castle tries to relax against the stack of pillows fluffed every few hours by Alexis. Kate hasn't been entirely incommunicado, but what she's said when she Skyped chilled him to the bone. She kept assuring him that she's wearing her Kevlar and that every conceivable path to her is guarded. It doesn't help. He wants to be near her. He couldn't do much in his current condition, but she would know that there would be someone with her that cared more about her than taking down a gangster family.
At least they've set up a check-in system. She calls every two hours, night or day. She thought she should hold back at night so he could get some rest. But there's no way he can do that anyway if he doesn't know she's all right. Her last call was 90 minutes ago. Only half an hour to wait. It will be the longest 30 minutes on record.