Shared Obsession Chapter 5

"So how do we prove it, Detective?" Castle asks.

"Castle, you've already contributed your expertise about your novels."

"And it helped. You know it did," Castle insists.

"All right, it helped. But that's finished now," Kate declares. "It's time for the real, experienced, step-by-step police work. I need to get immigration records to double-check Harrison's alibi. And I need to get into his financials. You should go home."

"But you've just shown me that you can teach me about that kind of police work. That's just the type of research I need for my books. And my writer's eye for detail may be able to help you again. I should stick around, at least until we have enough to nail Harrison Tisdale. You said Esposito won't have all of his information until tomorrow. How soon can you get immigration and financial records?"

"I won't have those until tomorrow either," Kate admits.

"So look, while we've been chasing clues all day, neither one of us has had anything to eat. My daughter is with a study group tonight. She won't miss me. Why don't I take you to dinner? You can tell me all about my cop procedure deficiencies, and then we can hit the ground running in the morning. Come on, Detective. Admit it. The NYPD can use all the help it can get. And with or without me, you have to eat."

"Fine, we can have dinner," Kate decides, "but we're going Dutch."

"Castle," Kate asks as they split a pupu platter, "what is your problem with the NYPD?"

"When I needed it to get the job done, it just shrugged its collective shoulders and moved on."

"How?"

"My mother had a dear friend, Celia Lawrence. We weren't actually related, but I called her Aunt Celia because she was the one who was always there when Mother was on the road, and I had some crisis – at least until I was packed off to boarding school. She was the one who told me that the goons who picked on me because I wanted to write instead of playing jock were just a bunch of assholes. She also helped me come up with a few snappy retorts. And when Mother couldn't make it to school events, like the assembly where I got the writing medal, Aunt Celia was there.

"Celia lived in one of those pre-gentrification apartments in the East Village, a third-floor walk-up. And the building was falling apart. So after I struck it rich with 'In a Hail of Bullets,' I was going to help her get into someplace decent. But I was too late. One of the other tenants found her on the stairs. She'd been stabbed six times, but the first one would have killed her. Whoever did it was some malicious monster. She never had much money, but the killer got away with a ruby necklace. I knew she always wore it because it belonged to her mother. I told the cops about it, hoping they'd hit the fences and pawn shops to track the killer down. I even had pictures of Celia wearing it. But there was no insurance or any official record of the necklace. And I wasn't officially Celia's family, so they ignored me. They chalked the case up to random violence and never even tried to bring Celia's murderer to justice. So is that what happened to your father?"

"My father? What are you talking about?"

Castle points to Kate's wrist. "That's a man's watch. Do you wear it to remember your father?"

"It was my father's," Kate admits. "But he survived – barely. It was my mother who was killed."

"Let me guess. Her death was also attributed to random violence."

"Yes."

"So, here you are in the NYPD, still looking for justice."

"Yes. But how about you? You turned your grief into anger at the NYPD. But did you ever try to solve Celia's murder, instead of just writing about mysteries?"

"As a matter of fact, I did, Detective. I did the best I could. I canvassed pawn shops. I tied up with a master thief that I used as a consultant for a book. He put out what feelers he could, but the necklace wasn't valuable enough to raise much interest in his circles. He suspected it went to a small-time fence who popped the stone and sold it as part of a lot. But he was never sure. I've had a standing reward out to any pawn shop or anyone I could find who buys jewelry. I even have a watch on eBay. But nothing's ever come of it. And I couldn't get access to NYPD records of similar robbery-murders."

"I managed to get a hold of my mother's case record. As a rookie, I snuck into the archives," Kate confides. "Montgomery caught me. I thought he was going to get me tossed, but he let it go and wished me luck. I haven't had any."

"But you keep trying," Castle assumes.

"I did for a long time, working full shifts and then trying to investigate afterward. But I was going to pieces, and the department shrink convinced me I had to step back or I'd break down completely."

"So, did you step back?"

"I had to. I'd run out of leads a long time before I did. There was nothing left I could do."

"Looks like we're in the same boat, Detective, waiting for some break that will put us back on the trail."

"Except that I'm a cop. I'm supposed to solve murders," Kate points out. "You're a civilian. You have no idea how a real investigation works."

"Detective Beckett, you have no idea just how much research I've put into how cops solve crimes. But that's never the same as being there. So maybe you can teach me a thing or two. Maybe we can even help each other."

"You could get yourself killed, Castle."

"I could get myself killed walking down a dark stairwell like Celia did. I've got more on me worth stealing right now than she ever owned. And you could get yourself killed too, Detective. How long have you been a cop?"

"Seven years."

"Then, by now, with your skills, you could have been climbing the career ladder. You could have gone for sergeant, maybe lieutenant, and be riding a desk. But you didn't. You want to be out on the street, even if it puts a bullseye on your beautiful back. We're two of a kind, Detective Beckett, both searching for the truth, whatever it takes. So, partners?"

"For this case," Kate agrees reluctantly. "But after that, I don't know, Castle."

"It's a start." He holds out his hand for her to shake. "Deal."

"I don't like it, Richard," Martha Rodgers declares. "You went crazy after Celia died, and you almost drove Powell crazy too. So now you're going to get into it all over again? Sometimes you just have to move on."

"I didn't drive Powell crazy. Besides, working with me to find Celia's necklace gave him an excuse to date you, which is what he really wanted anyway, Mother. He just ran into a dead end. And I ran into one too. But now I have a chance to get at information I couldn't access before. And I think I can help the NYPD out too."

"How?"

"I already kept Detective Beckett from trying to pin a murder on the wrong guy. And Beckett and I build theory together."

"Richard, I saw Detective Beckett at your book party. And I saw how you looked at her. Are you sure all you want to build is theory?"

"I want to work with her to solve murders."

Martha shakes her head. "Sure, Kiddo. We'll see."