Very Castle Celebrations

Chapter 5

Kate starts CPR while Castle calls 911. Despite several attempts at defibrillation, Michael Bloomingdale shows no signs of reviving. The EMT's will continue CPR as he is transported to the hospital, but the situation isn't encouraging.

The celebratory mood has completely vanished from the assemblage. Martha's students stand around in stunned silence while Kate makes coffee.

Castle thinks he spotted a few flecks of foam on Michael's lips and suspects that his play's villain might have been poisoned. As far as anyone recalls, Michael didn't eat or drink anything at the loft but did have a soda that he brought with him to rehearsal. Mother believes that the bottle might still be in a recycling receptacle at the Martha Rodgers School of Acting. Kate calls the boys and suggests that someone who can preserve the chain of custody retrieve the container - just in case Castle is right. DNA should confirm that Michael drank from it.

Alexis answers a knock on the door. Castle's birthday cake, in the shape of a dead body, has arrived. It seems like a cruel joke, but feeding his guests is better than doing nothing. Castle blows out the candles to a muted version of "Happy Birthday," and begins distributing slices, while Alexis dishes out ice cream.

While a stilted discussion about the richness of the filling and the frosting is the only conversation that fills the room, Castle calls the hospital for an update. He is politely but firmly informed that any information regarding Michael Bloomingdale's condition can only be released to the next of kin. It's ominous, but pretty much what he expected. As the scion of one of New York's most affluent families, if Michael is dead or even critical, sooner or later, it will make the news. More than likely it will appear on social media first. Castle sets alarms on any site he can for mentions of Michael's condition.

One by one, Martha's students depart. Alexis and Cary both apologize that they have to go too, because they have studying to do. Mother departs to the theater, leaving Castle and Kate alone except for Jackson who predictably begins to wail.


Twitter has been uncharacteristically silent on the subject of Michael Bloomingdale. Normally, his name is regularly used as a hashtag, but has not appeared for almost 24 hours. Castle scans through the threads. He's only vaguely aware of the activities of New York's old money families, his wealth being too newly acquired for him to garner any notice from them. He did go to school with a couple of the less exalted members of that stratum of the city's society, but as a scholarship kid, didn't exactly run in their circles. Being on the debate team with a Bloomingdale was about as close as he got. Still, it is enough of an in to call and express concern. He does have an alumni directory with contact information.

Caspar Bloomingdale seems surprised by Castle's call but not put off by it. He had no idea that his cousin was a drama student and had heard nothing on the family grapevine about an illness - or anything worse. He listens to Castle's description of what happened at the end of the play and promises to get back to him if he hears anything about Michael.

Kate tells Castle that the N.Y.P.D. had a little better luck. According to what she heard from the boys, CSU found Michael Bloomingdale's soda bottle. Both his DNA and fingerprints were on file as a precaution in case he was abducted. They matched. There were traces of thallium in the container, most likely too small a dose to cause immediate death or obvious symptoms. Small doses administered over time, however, could very well have killed the unfortunate would-be actor. Her contact in the department did confirm that Michael is indeed deceased, but that in deference to the family's wishes and especially due to their friendship with the police commissioner, his death is being kept under wraps.

Castle can tell that Kate is itching to get further into the case, even if she has no official standing. He is more than a little curious himself, not to mention pissed off at the murderer for ruining his birthday celebration. He gives Caspar another call, hoping to stimulate some thought in Michael's cousin's head that hadn't occurred to him during their previous exchange.

Caspar does have a new insight. There were rumors in the family that when Michael came into his inheritance, he was planning on systematically giving much of it away for philanthropic causes, in the model of J.K. Rowling or Bill Gates. That idea was not popular at all with some members of the Bloomingdale clan who viewed it as loosing their reins on the control of New York City's upper crust. As far as getting close enough to Michael to slip anything in his drink, Caspar believes the list may be relatively short, but he isn't in a position to know who might be on it.

Kate gets a text from Ryan and passes the information on to Castle that Gates has given the boys the lead on the investigation. Since the members of the Castle family, as well as Martha's students, are all potential witnesses, they will be formally interviewed. Given the goodies available in the loft's larder, the boys are more than willing to take statements from Kate and Castle there, but Kate wants to go to the Twelfth.

Castle can understand why she might be a bit homesick. It's been a while since she's been anywhere near the bullpen. If Jackson cooperates, she and Castle can go to the precinct the next day.

Kate traces a pattern with her fingertip on the V of his chest exposed by the two open buttons on his shirt. "You know, Jackson will probably sleep for at least an hour, and we never did properly celebrate your birthday."

Castle cups the smooth skin of her cheek. "That is true. That is very true. Any ideas for festivities that you would like to share?"

Kate takes his hand to lead him toward the bedroom, purring that she might have a few. She begins to unbutton his shirt, but she's doing it too slowly - way too slowly. He pulls at it, buttons popping and flying. He can find them later - or just get a new shirt. On the other hand, perhaps he'd rather keep it. He has a feeling that some lovely memories are about associate themselves with the 100 percent pure cotton relaxed cut garment.

He pulls Kate's top over her head and unsnaps her bra. If she sprays him with milk, he really doesn't care. She unbuckles his belt and pulls it from his jeans, before freeing his growing arousal. He strips her pants and lacy thong away as well. He can feel the heat beneath his fingers. She always has been at her most excited when immersed in the details of a case, and she couldn't get much closer to that than finding one in the middle of their living room. She's as turned on as if they'd spent the last hour theory-building. Who needs a whiteboard when you've got a bed?

Kate pulls him down to the spread with her. The silky duvet cover is smooth beneath their bare skin. She nips at his shoulder as he cups her breasts, and whispers. "Remember what Dr. Sabatini said?"

Castle could never forget that. "No restrictions as long as it feels good." He expects that both of them will soon feel very good indeed.