Shattered Lies

Chapter 28

Kate's fingers tighten on the steering wheel as she drives back to the 12th. "Castle, we have to dig into the relationship between Bowdry and Bracken. Can you go back to Krepkin and ask for any notes on it they might have from Bowdry?"

Castle fidgets with his phone before answering. "Kate, I could do that, but until the book is released, we can't - I can't - do anything that would make information from the book public. I think Missy Jensen would have made me sign the agreement in blood if she could have. Krepkin would sue me, and they might even sue the department. The blow to my bank account aside, having a public proceeding like that would give Bracken a chance to spin things his way, and if the performance he just gave is any indication, he's terrifyingly good at that."

Kate draws her bottom lip between her teeth. "Yes, he is. How long do you think it will be before Krepkin puts out the book?"

"Not long. They're rushing it to press to cash in on Bowdry's death before it gets too far behind the news cycle."

"That's ghoulish."

"That's the business. If I had died from my wound, Black Pawn would have reissued everything I wrote, and your signed first editions would have been worth a fortune - a small one."

"Rick, I don't even want to think about that."

"Nice to know. But there is another way to go at it. Remember the dog that the shooter Pulgatti described had? Awards from shows were a bust, but I had another canine angle I was going to follow on tracing down Armen's real killer. I put it on the back burner when we started investigating Bowdry's murder. Now, however, if we're looking at a way to get at Bracken, it's all the same case."

Kate glances sideways, her eyebrows rising. "What angle, Castle?"

"I want to look for complaints against the dog, maybe even a lawsuit if it bit someone, defending its territory. The owner would be liable for whatever the mastiff did."

"Castle, are you hoping the dog was vicious?"

"The owner was. Don't pets take on the aspects of their owners? Or is it the other way around? No, but really Kate, I'm not saying the pooch was vicious, just doing the job it was bred to do. Can't blame a dog for that. I think it's worth a shot to dig into the records."

Kate brakes too hard at a red light. "If they exist. You might be able to find court papers, although you'd probably have to pay for a subscription search engine to do it."

"Already paid up for research for my books. It's tax deductible. Unfortunately, I'd need a topic and a key number to do a meaningful search, and I'd still be casting a very wide net. But isn't there some dusty N.Y.P.D. archive where long-forgotten complaints are buried for future anthropologists to dig up and puzzle over?"

"If they are anywhere, they'd be in the Municipal Archives on Chambers Street, but not available to the public."

"Ah. But how about to a police detective pursuing an active investigation, and her faithful shadow?"

"I guess we'll find out, Castle."

Rick catches a black sneeze in his overworked handkerchief. "I wonder when the last time anyone dusted in here was. At least I've found the right boxes. These complaints started 20 years ago. If our canine clue misbehaved, it should be chronicled in here somewhere." He checks his watch. "It's almost four-thirty. That gives us about another half hour before the crypt keeper banishes us for the night."

"Just as well," Kate replies, coughing into her sleeve. "Any longer and we might have to call in the paramedics to give us oxygen."

Castle flips through one file after another, before his jaw drops. "Kate, I think I found it! A citizen repeatedly cited because of excessive barking from his dog - described as a Tibetan mastiff. The owner's name is Percy Doof."

"Percy Doof? Seriously?"

"Uh huh. If I had to grow up dealing with that name on the schoolyard, I might want to shoot someone too. I wonder what became of his parents?"

"Focus, Castle," Kate insists, smothering a giggle. "What's important is what became of Percy."

A grin splits Castle's face. "With your handy-dandy police access to the DMV database, it shouldn't be hard to find out. And with a name like that, we won't be overwhelmed with hits on Google, or any other search engine either."

"We can go back to the precinct and start running him - unless you need to get home for something with Alexis."

"Nope. She'll be with her string quartet practicing for a performance, and won't be home for hours. Father Castle is free and clear."

Rick studies the photograph and description in the file Kate assembled. "So that's Percy Doof. His hair is graying now, but he still has some brown in it. And the height and weight match what Pulgatti told us. Kate, Doof has to be Armen's killer."

"Castle, you could be right, but all we have is the word of a convicted murderer and complaints about a dog that murderer claimed he saw. As far as the N.Y.P.D.'s concerned, except for ancient noise complaints, Doof is clean. We need a lot more."

"How about financials?"

"On what grounds would I request them? As far as we know, the man's a model citizen. He sells insurance."

"But he's got to have more money than an insurance salesman. A full-grown Tibetan mastiff can sell for over a million dollars, and the puppies go for thousands. Wow! Beckett, maybe that's how he laundered his hitman fees, by buying and selling rare dogs. He could account for any windfalls by saying he raised one from a puppy. You know what? I'd just love to buy a furry guardian to watch over my daughter. And I'd want the approval of the lady in my life. Kate, we should go see a man about a dog."

Percy scans the email from the mystery writer referred by the kennel club. Richard Castle is a celebrity if a minor one. His daughter might be a target for kidnappers. His request to explore buying a dog to protect her makes sense. Castle is also known for his association with the N.Y.P.D., but the cops have never suspected Percy, and he's been out of the profession for a long time.

Killing a fed wasn't the kind of assignment he preferred. He was willing to do it for Bill - and for the money - but after that, he got out while he could. And he's done well for himself. Selling insurance points him toward potential buyers for his dogs. He bought a great house just before gentrification took hold in his neighborhood, and he has a beamer and a van for transporting his four-legged crew. And if he wants company, a trip to the dog park will usually accomplish his purpose. The ladies just love a man who truly cares for his pets.

All in all, Percy's living a good life. And if Richard Castle can open the door to sales to more best-selling authors, all the better. Maybe he'll redo his kitchen. Doof sends Castle a time and place to look at his kennel.