A/N- Can't thank you enough for following my story, you guys are the best. Please don't hesitate to leave more reviews. I'd like to know what I do wrong and how I can improve, so this story will get better. Thank you in advance!

Just to be clear on something: Left side, means the left side of the victim, when facing a person who stands in front of you, it might be confused with the right side. Left side, as in one's self left side:)

Chapter 4:

"So, why don't you guys tell us how this thing works, exactly," Beckett muses as the group of seven head to the interrogation room.

"Simple," the cop with the silky voice and puffy hair says in boredom, "While you guys were busy doing…whatever it is you guys do in this precinct," he comments indifferently, causing Esposito to grit his teeth so hard he might just injure his gums; Behind them, Castle twists his bottom lip doubtfully, already disliking the new arrivals, "We were doing our own investigation. We interviewed some of the teachers," he adds, opening a folder he was holding.

As they reach the interrogation room, Esposito adds with reproach, "So did we. They were a bust, they didn't know anything," he feels the need to defend his team. They've been working day and night trying to catch this guy. No diaper-wearing bozo is going to tell them they're useless!

"Yes, but they've also said that Mr. Aronov sitting there," he points at the interrogation room, "was working at the school till 5 PM. In his questioning, he said he stayed until 2 o'clock because his son was ill," a satisfied grin appears on Brock's face, "We got a warrant to check out his clothes and shoes, but apparently they disappeared- he tried to get rid of them. Now why would someone who's not at all guilty go through so much trouble hiding his clothes and shoes? Unless they've done something wrong with them…"

Indeed an interesting question, but Beckett is interested in something else, too. "You received the warrant to go through his stuff?"

The narcissist grin reappears, "Yes, we have."

"Based on…what? The fact that he worked there?"

Brock, seemingly unappreciating her doubtful manner, growls softly, "Because he lied and tied himself to the crime scene at the time."

"Something that happened also with at least 3 other witnesses I've interrogated, I don't see any special reason why a warrant was given concerning this guy alone," she points out, "But I'll go with it," she closes the folder at hand, "Why don't you guys use our box, we'll just…sit this one out?"

Ryan and Espo exchange incredulous looks, though Beckett shoots them a glare, and they know better than to say anything. The three other cops smile with satisfaction, as they enter the interrogation room.

"What the…" Ryan starts, as Esposito fights the urge to rub his eyes in disbelief, "You're letting those guys use our box?!"

"Why not?" she approaches the one-sided glass, "Let's consider this as an educational activity, see how they work…what makes them tick…" she says the last very slowly.

Castle just shrugs when they look back at him.

Back in the interrogation room, the three sit in front of their suspect, who's busy drawing something on a small paper. Castle watches as he moves his right hand about the paper, his strokes hurried and somewhat aggressive.

When he hears the door open, and then closed behind, he stops, and jumps, "Anatoly," Brock starts, "You remember Leonson and Peters."

The man nods, then says with heavy Russian accent, feebly- "Spasibo…" he spread both hands forward, "for no handcuffs." His eyes are small, trouble-seem. "Give me paper…draw family…" his heavy tongued speech makes it almost impossible to understand him.

"Anatoly, we all know why you're here," Leonson doesn't bother with small talk, "You've been lying to us, you said you left the school at around 2 PM that day, but we have at least THREE placing you at the school after 4 PM."

His eyes travel across the room, his face twists with an almost painful expression, "No remember," he blurts out.

"You don't remember where you've been at, on a day which a child was killed at your work place?" Peters asks threateningly, "You'll have to run that by me one more time, because I don't believe you in the least…"

"No remember!" Aronov calls again, "My boy sick! I…go home early! No remember when! Teacher see me? Teacher talk! All talk! I not know!" his sentences are broken, his face red as he struggles to explain himself.

"What did you do with your working clothes and shoes? How come they surprisingly disappeared when we searched for them?" Brock demands sternly.

"Shoes?" Aronov's eyes widen, "Shoes in school closet! Not in house! Clothes in closet! I no hide them! You no look in closet! You make mess in my house! You hold guns! Wife scared!" he cracks.

Behind the glass, Castle rolls his eyes, mumbling 'Seriously?'.

"Oh, we found what we were looking for, alright," says Brock, "We've sent those clothes and shoes to the forensic lab, Anatoly. What do you think the results would be?"

"I not know!" the suspect calls, "You take my shoes! why you take my shoes?"

"You know why, Anatoly!"

His eyes angry, he suddenly pushes the paper away from him, disgusted, "You come my house, you say, 'Anatoly, you kill girl'…" his voice hoarse, "I tell you, 'I no kill girl! I not know girl! I not see girl!' you tell me 'You killer', you handcuff me, you take me jail, you make wife sad," his lips purse for a moment, he adds, "I no kill girl!" he points at Tamara's picture, "I no reason harm girl! Why you cuff me?"

"Why?" barks Brock then, all cards on the table, "Because you were there, and you lied about it! Because you tried to throw us off! Because you deserve to sit behind bars for doing what you did!"

"I do nothing!" he defends, "You see results! Results say I innocent! Results say I kill no-one! You see, and I go home to bed with wife!" he spits with anger.

"You know," Brock said, "I thought you were a good guy, I thought I saw some good in you, but you lied to me, and you were caught hiding evidence. I don't like liars, Anatoly. And unless you did that, you have nothing to hide; But we both know the truth, we both know you killed that girl," Anatoly shakes his head in denial, "And right now outside, there is a mother of a child, who cries all day long! And what do you do, Anatoly, huh?" Brock leans back in his chair, "What do you do? Instead of going to her and apologize, instead of going to mom and say- 'Sorry I killed your baby', you sit here!" he points at the chair, "And lie to my face!" his features twist and redden with rage, "And why you did that, Anatoly? You did that because you're a liar, and a killer, and a pedophile, who cut that girl open! I know you did it, and they know you did it!" he gestured towards the detectives sitting next to him, both apparently amused by the complicated scene, "And we all know you did it, like my name is Brock and yours Aronov!"

"What do you make of this, Kate?" Castle asks softly.

Biting her lip, she examines the suspect as well as detective, "Hard to tell, I'll need to have my own questioning before deciding," she turns to Esposito, who just returned from the hallway, "What's this about the time issue?"

"Checked this out with the station, it doesn't look good for this dude," his gaze falls in Aronov, "His alibi is weak, at best. He was seen by at least 3 teachers and another worker between 2 to 4, he was indeed trying to hide his whereabouts, was lying his ass off when asking about his doings on sad day. Oh, and get this… first results from the local lab came by, the one testing Tamara's trousers. Those are shoe-prints on her pants. His shoes. The blood traces are with their perfect shape." he points out, "Those were the first tests they sent over. Hate to admit it, but it seems this is our guy."

"Really?!" Castle says, "Seriously, this…" he points at the interrogation room, "Is our brutal murderer?"

Ryan twists his face, "I know, right?" he interjects, "I kind of expected him to be more….-"

"Creepy?" tries Castle usefully, "aggressive?" he adds, "I don't know, something about him just doesn't ring the bell, I mean…he's too…gentle, if you ask me."

"Which points at nothing, many of them are," Beckett says, "I guess we can wrap this case once we get the positive results on the shoes."

"I hope it's not him," says Esposito.

Beckett tilts her head, and Esposito adds, "Can you imagine this asshole's gloating if they close this thing without our help? We'll be hearing about this failure for months!"

With a snort, Beckett has to admit he has a point there.

Just when she's about to say something more, her Smartphone chimes. "Hey, girlfriend," Lanie's voice greets her, "You better come down here, there's something you'll need to see."

"I'll be right there," the finishes the call, "Let's go, Castle."

"So, I don't have the body to work on anymore, since the poor thing was buried today, so you'll have to settle for the next best thing," she points out, "BUT, I found something interesting," opening the folder, she pulls out some photos, "While checking her wounds, I found some shallow decomposed ones, from the attack, on the back of her nape," she says, "on her left side," she emphasizes.

Castle narrows his eyes, deep in thought, as Lanie continues, "Those were not the cause of death, though. Cause of death was her massive bleeding, the artery being slashed; on her neck," she points on the pictures, "Are three cuts. Two that create a V like shape turning sideways, on the left side of her neck, and one on her left cheek. The one on her cheek, though, is clearly discontinues, the others seem so as well, although I'm not 100% positive, but," she points out, "what interests us are those shapes, especially V-shape cuts," she explains, "When I try to create those kind of cuts in the same manner as the killer was doing, It's almost impossible for me, and you know why that is?"

Frowning, she has to think what Lanie's getting at, but then something clicks inside Castle's head, and he grins- "Because you're right-handed."

She points at him, "Exactly!" she says, as Beckett smiles up at him. Her ruggedly-handsome-writer is just so SMART! And she feels a fresh wave of love and appreciation filling her; "In the way it is? It's highly unlikely your guy created those kinds of wounds, in that depth, this triangle- with his right hand. The mark on her cheek only supports that, and look," she pulls another photo of the crime scene, "Look at the shoe prints. There are four," she points out, "One on the floor, one on the seat, another on the cistern, and one more on the beam wall," Beckett examines the photo, "The print on the seat is clearly the left shoe, it's impossible to leave the stall through climbing and leaving those exact same prints with the right leg without losing balance," she concludes.

She then turns to examine the photo of the girl's bruised nape, adding, "I don't know who you're looking for, but whoever left those cuts and escaped that stall, is without a doubt, left-handed."

At that moment, Castle exhales, "Anatoly Aronov is right-handed," he says, and Beckett's head turns to quizzically look at him, "When he was drawing in the interrogation room? He was using his right hand, I clearly noticed."

"All evidence show that he is our killer," says Beckett, "Lies, fact that he was there, clothes…"

"But you've taught me more than once, Kate, that sometimes the evidence don't tell the whole truth," Castle points out.

"Or, the truth at all," says Lanie, her gaze not living the pictures, "Because I wasn't finished," she says.

"Oh?"

"Returning to the cuts and the nape bruises," she says, pointing at another photo, "the depths of the bruises on her skull and nape? They're different in size and scars of the body tissues," she points out, "Both those kinds of scars are closed to her head and jaw. Especially the V-cuts. They're pointing horizontal, like at some point, Tamara rose to her feet, and they were done then, when the true angle is is visible."

"So...?" Beckett asks.

"So...," notes Lanie, "whoever did those cuts, and the one bruise to her nape, was just a few centimeters taller than our victim. At best. This bruise here," she points at the nape-photo, "tells me the same thing."

Beckett takes in what it all means, when Lanie concludes, "Sweetie, if you ask me, not only that guy you have there is not your guy, I'm not sure that this is even the kind of murderer you're looking for… this brutal, aminalistic one…" she then finishes quietly, "You're not looking for a massive bully, you're looking for a child."

…TBC…

A/N- Liked it? hated it? let me know!