Slaying the Beast
Chapter 42
"Yossi Kahane isn't broke," Ryan announces, handing Kate a file.
"Why the hell would someone be living in a ravaged house like that if he has money?" Castle asks.
"Probably because of the way he made his money," Kate replies, scanning through Ryan's paperwork. "It looks like he sells storm-damaged goods without disclosing their origin. There's an outstanding warrant for him in Louisiana for fraud. No wonder he didn't want to talk to cops."
"Oh," Castle recalls "there was a lot of that going on after Hurricane Katrina. Unscrupulous dealers cosmetically cleaned up cars that had been drowned in the deluge. The buyers thought they were getting great deals until they discovered that the cars had all kinds of hidden problems. From where we found him, it looks like he might be moving up to flooded houses."
"Not yet," Ryan puts in. "He doesn't even own the one he's staying in. As far as I can make out, he's a squatter."
"Maybe he was surveying the abandoned homes in the area to see who he could cheat by fixing them up just enough to sell to New Yorkers so desperate for affordable housing that they wouldn't ask too many questions," Kate speculates.
"If he'd inherited his Aunt Miriam's house, that would have been a major windfall," Castle puts in. "He could have given himself a real air of respectability by living there or even sold it legitimately. Either way, he would have been pissed off that Carmen got it. But if he's just a squatter, he could have easily skipped town after taking her out, especially since he has money. He wouldn't have hung around waiting for the police to come calling."
"That may be true," Kate considers, "but with the warrant, we can pull him in for questioning. Lanie couldn't pin down the time of death because of the condition of the body, but if it turns out he has an alibi for the period of time Carmen Redfield hadn't been seen, we'll let the authorities in Louisiana know that we have him and see whether they want to bother extraditing him."
McNulty emerges from the elevator. "Sergeant Beckett, I found Alphonso Zuniga. He's working in Queens now at a custom rebuilding shop and had some interesting things to say."
"Such as?" Kate inquires.
"He insists that he was the one who broke up with Carmen. Apparently, he thought she was paying too much attention to another guy."
"What other guy?" Castle asks.
"He didn't know, except that he thought it was someone she knew from when they were kids."
"That doesn't make sense. You would think if it were, her sister would know about it," Castle remarks.
"Here's something else that doesn't make sense," Esposito adds, striding across the bullpen. "We found a bunch of stuff about firebugs on the computer Carmen Redfield had at her house in Harlem, but she didn't have any cases dealing with arson. That's the fire department's gig, and she wasn't even in touch with them."
"Actually, it does make a depraved kind of sense," Castle puts in. "Carmen was burned to death. Who would be more likely to do that than an arsonist? Zuniga thought Carmen was obsessing about someone she grew up with. And Kate, you wanted to look into anyone who liked to play with matches. Could Carmen have known someone like that; perhaps been trying to keep him out of trouble and been burned for her efforts - quite literally?"
Gates walks over to the group, from where she's been observing in the doorway of her office. "Mr. Castle, much as I hate to admit it, your theory is plausible. Carmen was always trying to help someone. She'd buy meals for the homeless and try to find them beds for the night. She volunteered at schools to mentor troubled kids. If there was someone from her childhood who she thought was getting into trouble, she might have tried to save him."
Kate nods. "The question is, who?'
"It seems to me," Castle replies, "that the person to ask would be Lily Redfield."
"You're right, Castle," Kate agrees. "Let's go see her."
Lily sighs as she rests her chin against the knuckles of one hand. "A boy Carmen knew who liked to play with fire? The problem is, she and I had different groups of friends growing up. Carmen liked more of the rough and tumble stuff. She climbed trees and fences, played pick-up tackle football games with the boys. That wasn't me. I was into home ec. You know, sewing and cooking. Sometimes I fixed the rips she got in her clothes before our mother saw them. But mostly I hung out with other girls. There was this boy at our middle school that some of them made fun of because they thought he was weird, but Carmen was always kind to him. His name was Kris something, with a 'K.' I think his last name began with an 'O.' I remember that he brought a lighter to school one day. One of the teachers confiscated it and sent him to the principal's office. The story was all over the school. I don't think anyone was thinking about fires. Smoking was a big deal then, tobacco or pot. I guess the teacher must have figured that if he had a lighter, that's what he was doing. But there was a clique that used a park near the school to smoke. As far as I know, he wasn't part of it."
"Kris with a 'K' with a surname beginning with an 'O'" Kate repeats. "We should be able to get the school records and figure out who that was."
"There was a yearbook," Lily adds. "He might be in it."
"Wow," Castle exclaims, staring at a picture in the Eastside Middle School yearbook. "The look in this kid's eyes! I can see why the girls might have called him weird - although in middle school even the wrong haircut would have qualified him for that appellation."
Kate looks over his shoulder. "Or the wrong pair of jeans or sneakers. Middle school can be a cruel place. But at least we have a name, Kristoffer Olafson. Same year as Carmen, so probably about the same age. With any luck, he's in the DMV database. Ryan is checking now."
"Got him, Beckett," Ryan proclaims, approaching Kate's desk. "Kristoffer Olafson lives in Harlem, not that far from the house Carmen inherited, only in not nearly as nice a neighborhood."
"They might have seen each other on the street or in the subway," Castle speculates. "Maybe they recognized each other and struck up a conversation, but that's not exactly New York City style is it? Especially not in Olafson's neck of the woods. Eyes averted minding your own business would be more the cultural norm."
"But according to what both Gates and Lily told us, Carmen wasn't into that particular cultural norm. She went out of her way to help people," Kate figures. "She might have tried to make contact if she thought he seemed troubled. And incipient arsonists don't grow out of being disturbed. They just get worse. Ready for a trip to Harlem, Castle?
"Sure, especially if we can stop for some goodies. We'll only be a few blocks from one of the best bakeries in town."
"Just bring some of the good stuff back, Bro," Esposito urges.
Castle presses the tips of his fingers together to "feed the birds." "The pastry express is now on track 1."