alright here's chapter four, things are starting to get serious!
more clues ahead!
enjoy :)
THURSDAY
"This can't be right." Esposito groaned the following morning. He'd spent the night on the couch in Lanie's office while she ran her tests at top speed, while Ryan and Castle were told to go home and get some sleep. Tonight, if this wasn't solved, he and Lanie would sleep and the other two would keep working.
"What?" Ryan asked. The sun was just up and all had a tall cup of coffee in their hands, the next of kin for their most recent two victims had already been interviewed.
"There's nothing. No connection. Not only to Beckett or Castle, or to the other victims, but to each other. Gabrielle Adams and Ben Allan didn't know each other. Their families hadn't heard of each other. Allan was married with a kid upstate and Adams had a long-time boyfriend."
Castle scrubbed his hands over his face. "So, still nothing. This is going nowhere," he said defeatedly.
"Maybe not," Lanie held up her contribution, the results from the last two autopsies.
"What do you have?"
"The same as the others, same chemical compounds in their systems, Allan died from blood loss and Adams from the GSW. Now, the sweater Gabrielle Adams was wearing is a different story."
"How so?" Castle asked, taking a gulp from his coffee. While he had gone home to sleep last night and to placate Alexis, who was growing irritable and anxious, he hadn't actually gotten much rest.
"The stain on the right side? Tears. Sweat. More paint chips, but that's not important."
"Could you get DNA from the tears and sweat?" Esposito asked, cautiously allowing himself to hope.
Lanie smiled a little and nodded. "Yeah,"
"And?" Ryan pressured, leaning forward as if it would help him hear better.
"At first I didn't think it was anything, since tears and sweat are just secretions, no DNA, but if the tears had run down a person's face, epithelial cells might be contained inside, giving us DNA. Same with the sweat."
"So?" Castle waved her on.
"So, I ran the samples, found traces of epithelial tissues and ran them through our database. They're from Kate. She was wearing that sweatshirt before it was put on Gabrielle Adams."
Castle didn't know how he felt about this new piece of information. On the one hand, they knew Beckett was still alive. She was with these victims. She was conscious. On the other, she was crying. Sweating. Scared, alone, and being dressed and undressed by whoever was killing these people.
"Any luck with the paint chips?"
"Oil based paint. Big with artists in the Village. Can't get much more than that," Lanie answered.
"Okay. What about the chemicals in the blood? Is there anyway we can trace it to a manufacturer?"
Lanie couldn't remember if Esposito had asked the question before but answered anyway. "We could try; whoever is doing this is incredibly talented. The injection sites are clean, so they weren't stabbed during an altercation. The compound itself doesn't seem to do any damage, but that can't be known for sure."
"I'll start looking up chemical researchers," Ryan said, moving off to his desk.
"I'll hit the fan sites again, see if anyone's saying anything," Castle volunteered, taking a seat at Beckett's desk. He hesitated before adjusting the chair and powering up her computer.
"You guys get some rest, we'll let you know if we find anything." he continued, talking to Lanie and Esposito.
They didn't blindfold her anymore. She almost wished they would. The next victims had been brought in and were slumped unceremoniously in the corner. The bloodstains were caking into the floor and the metallic tang of it almost didn't register with her anymore.
The man breathed deeply under the medication, his dark brown hair messed up from the trip. He had on a brown leather jacket and dark jeans with black boots. He had a strong jaw and Beckett would bet money his eyes were blue, like Castle's.
The woman slumped down with her neck at an odd angle, dark brown hair falling partially over her face. It was almost like looking in a mirror for her. Heeled boots, jeans, blouse, black jacket. Her.
As soon as the pair started getting restless, the effects of the needles wearing off, the door slid open and the man walked in. Beckett didn't say anything this time. Pleading would get her nowhere. Begging was useless. Screams fell on deaf ears. Threats were waved away. Reasoning and negotiating got nothing.
So she watched, unmoving, as the man shifted them into position and started his work. Her mind went blank and Beckett forced herself to think she was anywhere else but here. Eventually, the man's cries were drowned out and she was completely gone, staring at the gray wall and oblivious to the tears dripping down her cheeks and falling off her chin as her head tilted to the right.
Castle sighed heavily in frustration and shoved the keyboard away from him. He'd been at this for what felt like hours, checking and rechecking fan sites, poring over the news reports from the last few days and even alternating looking over their previous notes and watching Ryan jotting down name after name of chemical researchers.
"You okay there Castle?" Ryan asked, looking up from his computer.
Castle just shot him a look and the detective held up his hands. "Anything on your end?"
"It's a pretty long list, but I narrowed it down to a list of twenty two based on age and location in the US."
"So who's left?"
"Most are professors or researchers, a few work in pharmacies and a few with the FDA. I based the search on individuals with the education, money and resources to manufacture something like this. It's slow going, and there are a surprising number of candidates, but I'm working on it."
"Sounds good. We should take a break. Eat something."
They didn't get the chance.
Esposito came running into the bullpen, not stopping until he was in front of his computer, typing furiously. "You have to see this." his face was tight and angry, but controlled. Lanie came in hurriedly after him.
"I checked my work e-mail for the results on the secondary tox screen and found this," Lanie explained, slightly out of breath from running to keep up with Esposito.
The e-mail itself was empty, the sender was a non-descriptive address, probably one already deleted, but there was an attachment. Esposito clicked it open and leaned back so that Ryan and Castle could see what was opening on the screen.
It was a video. Someone was holding a camera aimed at a small, grey door. There was no sound, but the image was crisp and clear, details standing out sharply. A small pale hand, with short nails and no freckles or identifying marks, and pulled open the door smoothly.
As the camera moved around the doorframe, a man came into view from the back, his face turned away from the camera. His hands, and his scalpel, were in plain view. As was the torn and bloody flesh of another victim. They couldn't hear him, but they could see the man's mouth open in screams.
The camera turned to the gray floor and slid over to the boots of another person, climbing up the legs until the crying woman's face came into view, tears tracking down red cheeks from bloodshot eyes.
The frame stayed there for another moment before sliding over along gray walls to a chain dangling down out of the shot. The camera tilted slowly until a familiar head of brown hair came into view.
Beckett was alive. Chained to a wall and more than a little disheveled but alive. The camera slid down until it was level with Beckett's face and they figured the person behind the camera must be crouching. Her gaze remained fixed over the person's shoulder, head tilted to the right, tears sliding in endless streams down her pale cheeks. But her expression was blank.
She wasn't trying to escape, wasn't yelling or screaming, wasn't moving.
"Why isn't she moving? What's wrong with her?" Castle asked, not able to take his eyes off Beckett.
The pale hand came back into view again, this time the other hand, and the fingers curled under Beckett's chin, pulling her face to the camera head on. Her eyes slid into focus on the lens and her face crumbled a little before she squeezed her eyes shut and tilted her head away to the right again, away from the hand holding her.
"Jesus," Ryan muttered.
The screen froze on Beckett's face and then cut out, the video over.
They stood in silence before Esposito swallowed audibly and closed the video.
"She looks," Castle trailed off. Lanie, even having seen it before, turned and walked quickly to the women's room, hand over her mouth.
Ryan scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed, mentally shook himself. "Okay. What do we notice about the video. No windows."
"Female and male working together," Esposito continued.
"She's not going to last much longer in there," Castle whispered.
They let the statement hang between them all before Castle continued. "The one behind the camera, the woman, she's wearing a ring. The man's wearing a watch."
Esposito re-opened the video and went through the shots of the two suspects hands frame by frame and took screen captures.
"Looks like they have the same engraving. Both expensive; maybe a family emblem or something?" Ryan said, magnifying the ring on the woman's hand.
Sam and Victoria Bright. Jack Young and Sydney Logan. Gabrielle Adams and Ben Allan. Jennifer Hale and Henry Jackson. These last two had looked so young, maybe 20 years old? They'd had their whole lives ahead of them. The girl had lost her voice screaming.
She figured it must be getting close to the end of the day. The pattern was regular now, more apparent. Bodies going out meant night. A few hours of semi-peace, and then new bodies came in. And the the cutting. The cutting and the screaming, now a video camera. She couldn't bring herself to wonder, let alone ask, what the video was for. Where it was going. Who was seeing it.
The cuts and scrapes on her wrists ached, but she didn't register it. Her shoulders throbbed, but she didn't notice. Everything was gray, and graying around the edges.
She was giving up. If the pattern was right, it had taken four days, but it was happening. Something small in her wanted to fight it, but it just wasn't worth it.
They came to take the bodies. She knew they were still warm. No blindfold. No needles. She knew the woman would be back to change her clothes in a short while. Beckett also knew it would be the perfect time to try and get away; they wouldn't expect it, after all, it looked like she was giving up.
Oh, right, she had. Why escape? Where would she go? Nobody was coming for her, looking for her. The man had said so. And why would he lie? Beckett sighed and rested her head back against the wall, exhausted.
The woman came back in, looking more than a little giddy, and Beckett didn't move. Her restraints were undone and she was lead to the bathroom. She went, the woman changed her clothes and she was put back in the little gray room. The blood was still sticky and warm on the ground.
"Anything on the ring and watch?" Castle asked. It wasn't lost on him, the significance of the ring and watch to their case and the ones sitting on his desk in his study at home. He'd picked them up from Kate's apartment after CSU was done and kept them safe for her.
Ryan shoved aside the pizza they'd ordered. It had been Lanie's idea to try and take a break, get something in their stomachs, but they'd spent the past hour and a half pushing the slices around their plates, hardly taking bites.
"Took a little digging, but the guy's watch matched a robbery report from a few months ago. Upper East Side, B & E. Laptop, sound system, plasma screen. The safe was wrenched open and money, jewellery, and this watch were taken. Somehow, robbery found the watch at a pawn shop and returned it," Ryan reported, pulling up the report on his computer.
"And it's the same watch as in the video?" Esposito asked. His pizza sat untouched on his desk in front of him.
"The emblem is the same, can't say for sure if it's the same guy," Ryan pointed out, maximizing the picture from the robbery report and a still frame from the video.
"They look identical," Castle said, eyes flicking from one to the other, looking for any differences.
"Family emblems are supposed to, that's the point." Esposito said. "Who'd it belong to?" he continued, standing up and heading over to Ryan's desk as well.
"Edward Daniels filed the report, the loft belongs to him and his wife Helen." Ryan answered.
"Okay, so what, now we go pick them up, right? A man and woman working together, he's got the same watch, she's probably got a ring-," Castle was cut off by Esposito.
"They're in their 80's, bro. It's probably not them,"
Castle turned desperate eyes on Esposito. "We have to do something. Did you see that video? Did that look like Beckett to you? She's been there for four days, Esposito, four days! She's not going to last another four hours, never mind however long it takes to track these guys down!"
The two detectives sat in silences, each seeing Beckett's empty desk in their peripheral.
"Castle, I didn't say we weren't going to talk to them, but it's unlikely these two have the strength and resources to kidnap a highly trained NYPD homicide detective and eight other people, and then hold them." Esposito said carefully. He had every intention of asking the Daniels' why their suspects were wearing their family emblem.
"I have no idea what's going on. Now, I've said I wanted my lawyer and I'm not saying another word until he gets here,"
Edward Daniels was not impressed. He was large for a man in his 80s, tall and broad shoulders with grey hair and sharp eyes. His hands were tough and worn, not what you'd expect from a millionaire with six lawyers on speed dial.
"Ed, sit down. What were you saying Detective?" Helen Daniels was significantly smaller than her husband, but seemed to have control over the posturing man. She barely spared him a glance before turning her attention back to Esposito and Ryan with a pleasant smile.
"I was asking where you and your husband were at the dates and times written down here," Esposito said slowly, clearly frustrated with the pair, and gestured to the single piece of paper on the table.
Helen slid the paper towards herself and pulled the glasses up from her pocket by a chain before putting them on and inspecting the list. "Well, I can save you the trouble of all these little boxes," she said easily, pushing the paper back toward Ryan with one finger.
"We were in Europe. Starting last Friday. We arrived back only a few hours ago, shortly before you showed up at our door." she continued easily.
"Can you identify this for me?" Ryan asked, laying down a shot of a watch from the robbery report.
"That's my watch. It was stolen and returned to me. Is that what this is about? Were there more break-ins? Why didn't you people start with that?" Edward cut in.
"This isn't about break-ins Mr. Daniels. And is this your same watch?" Esposito said, putting down a still frame of their suspect's watch from the video.
"It looks like it, it has our crest on it, right Ed?" Helen said, frowning a little. "But you have your watch,"
Edward held up his wrist seemingly as proof as he studied the picture as well.
"Does anyone else wear your family crest?" Ryan asked, looking back and forth between the couple.
"Our son, Scott, has a watch like this, but he's away on business in Los Angeles," Helen answered, looking up at the detectives. "He couldn't have anything to do with anything,"
"Mrs. Daniels, does your son have any knowledge of chemistry or pharmaceuticals?"
"No, he's a business consultant, like Ed; he went to Yale."
"When was the last time you talked to him?" Ryan pulled out his pad and waited for the answer on pins and needles. This was the closest thing they'd had to a lead in days and it was leaving him anxious.
"About a week ago? He'd just finished clearing up his father's estate, that's why he's in Los Angeles, finishing up his business," Helen answered.
"His father?" Ryan and Esposito asked in unison, clearly confused.
"Scott's our adopted son. We couldn't have children and we adopted him as a baby. His biological father died a few months ago and Scott inherited his finances and estate." Edward explained, slightly more calm now that he thought he wasn't in trouble anymore.
"Could this be him?" Esposito tapped the picture of the watch, and wrist, in question.
"If that photo was taken in Los Angeles, then sure," Helen answered, an edge creeping into her tone.
"We need to get in touch with him. Do you have a contact number for him in LA?" Ryan pressed his ankles together in an attempt to keep calm.
"Well, of course, but what is it you think he's involved in?" Helen asked, not taking the pen and paper Ryan was inching towards her.
"There have been several murders, I'm sure you've seen them on the news," Ryan answered carefully.
"What? You think our son is responsible for that? There's no way! Scott would never hurt anyone, ever." Helen said sharply. She folded her arms over her chest and refused the pen and paper.
Behind the glass, Castle clenched his hands into fists and tried to reign in his anger. This was their guy. He could feel it. And these two, parents or not, were keeping them from finding him and by extension Beckett.
He watched as Esposito tried to take over for his partner.
"Look, all we know is that your family emblem is on the wrist of our lead suspect. Now, if you remember, you just identified this person as Scott. You have no other children or family members that wear this emblem. This is him. We need to talk to him. Maybe his watch was stolen, maybe this is him, maybe it's not. Either way, we need to talk to him. Now."
Edward and Helen exchanged glances.
It took a few hours, what with the Daniels' finally getting in touch with their lawyer, but by the time the sun was setting the older couple had written down their son's address in New York and where he was supposed to be staying in LA, along with phone numbers.
Chinese food crowded the break room table, almost all of it untouched, as the men plus Lanie waded through Scott Daniels' financials and records.
"This guy is cleaner than Alexis," Castle finally commented, pushing away the property records, all legal and a few even designated for charity and non-profit organizations for the community.
Ryan ran a hand through his already disheveled hair and dropped back against the back of his chair before dragging a hand over his face. "There has to be something. Anything."
Lanie sat quietly on the couch in the corner, playing with her Chinese food and listening to the boys.
"Daniels is supposed to be in LA," Esposito said after a moment of somber silence. He started from the beginning, with what they knew. "So far, we can't find one credit card receipt or airline ticket that says he actually went."
"He could have driven," Ryan offered, like he had the first time.
"Across the country, not likely, and definitely not if he had money and property waiting for him on the other side."
"Private plane," Castle said next, same as last time.
"Nothing chartered out of any of the private air strips and nothing logged at the commercial air lines either."
"Has he used his credit card this week?" Lanie piped up before anyone could say anything else.
"What?"
"He's supposed to be in LA right? Well, if he's still in New York and is buying things here, wouldn't it show up?"
Esposito sorted through the credit card statements and searched down the list. "Good catch, looks like he's renting a hotel room here in the city, why would he do that if he's supposedly in LA?"
Castle perked up a little. "Can we go find out?"
Ryan and Esposito exchanged glances before standing and pulling on their jackets.
Before they could make it to the door, however, Lanie's cell phone rang, followed closely by Esposito's.
This wasn't good.
The sun had fully set, as usual, when the detectives and writer pulled up behind Lanie's ME van in an alley in Queens. An officer from the 114th greeted them grimly and waved them under the tape. There was no territorial bullshit anymore, not with these murders going on.
The ME from the 114th stood up and stepped aside for Lanie as well, but shared what he knew as Lanie inspected the first body.
"Looks like your guy. Multiple stab wounds, still warm. ID says he's Oliver Wilder, 35. Lives eight blocks away."
"I take it there's a woman as well?" Lanie said, carefully recovering the man's face. This one looked the most like Castle. She was almost afraid to look at the other one.
"Yes, just a little further down the alley. I'll have our CSU guys send over everything. Same as the others, single GSW to the chest."
Lanie choked down a sob at the sight of this woman, who the driver's license identified as Julia Wilder, who looked like her best friend's twin.
"God," she heard from over her shoulder. She craned her neck and looked up into the face of Castle, his eyes wide and bright with tears. "We have to find her," he muttered.
Lanie stood up and pulled a glove off, settled it on the writer's arm. "We will. We'll bring her home,"
Beckett sat slumped against the wall. These last two had been the worst. Five couples now, ten people. Julia and Oliver. They'd looked the most like her and Castle. Oliver had sounded like Castle too, his voice deep and strong. And now they were dead.
Their bodies were gone, most likely laid out somewhere for someone to find. Their blood was still here though. Mixed in and stained with the others. She swallowed thickly.
The man came in then, carrying a tray of food. Usually it was a small sandwich, peanut butter and jelly or egg salad, with her daily glass of water and pee break, when they changed her clothes and brought her back.
Looked like ham and cheese from here. There was another glass of water this time, and that's what she really wanted; her throat was dry and tight from disuse. She hadn't spoken in a while now...
"Think they'll ever figure it out?" the man asked conversationally, crouching in front of her. It was one of the first times he'd spoken directly to her. He spoke, god he spoke, when he was torturing his victims, but never while he faced her. Never made conversation.
Beckett didn't answer, just kept staring at the wall.
The man settled in front of her and picked up a half of the sandwich, held it to her mouth. She opened and took a bite, chewed slowly, even though it tasted delicious.
"I mean, if they're even still looking for you, right?" he teased a little, lifting the sandwich again once she'd swallowed. She took another even bite.
"I know I wouldn't be looking for you, even if you are gorgeous. I've seen what you do to that poor writer, Castle isn't it? The way you flirt with him, but don't actually do anything about it? Makes you a tease, dear."
Beckett knew he was right but didn't say anything. Just swallowed her bite and her anger along with it. He held up the glass of water and she drank, not letting any of it spill.
"You know that woman who helps me out?" he asked conspiratorially. "She's only doing this because I make her. Granted, she enjoys it now, but it wasn't her idea initially. No, not at all. But do you want to know why she started this little project with me?"
Beckett didn't say anything. She wanted to know, but really what good would it do? She wasn't going anywhere. Nobody was coming for her. She was on her own.
"Because I threatened him." the man said, holding up the sandwich half.
She didn't give any indication that she'd heard him, just took another bite, but she was interested now, curious.
"Aren't you going to ask who? Of course you aren't. Took longer than I expected, but hey, we're all wrong occasionally right? Your writer. Or, her writer. She wishes he was hers. Doesn't think you deserve him at all. The way you treat him. Talk to him. Dismiss him. She loves him back, you see."
Castle. Beckett could stop her involuntary reaction at the realization this man was talking about threatening Castle. Her eyes ticked to the man's face.
"Ah, a reaction. Guess we haven't sufficiently traumatized you as of yet. Interesting. Yes, Richard Castle. She loves him. I threatened to actually bring him in here too, instead of just men who looked like him. Now she stays to make sure I don't, but she likes the fact it bothers you so much."
Beckett refused the next bite and looked resolutely away again. Castle was not theirs to play with. He wasn't this woman's to protect. He was hers.
The man kept talking but Beckett didn't hear him. She was busy planning.
She was getting out of here and she was getting out of here soon.
soooo? questions, comments, thoughts, concerns?
reviews are love!
:)
