So here we go... Act 5 of 6 in the "episode"...
Enjoy.
"Detective."
Beckett and Castle turned their heads in unison to see Gates at her door. "Sir?"
"Might I have a word?"
The detective simply nodded in acknowledgement as she made her way over to her Captain's office.
"I wonder what I did this time," Castle muttered under his breath as he sat down in his chair.
Observing the two women through the windows, the author attempted to glean the nature of the conversation with little success. Speed-reader he was. Lip-reader he was not.
Turning his attention to the murder board, he stared at the mosaic of clues, frustrated that he was unable as of yet to come up with a plausible theory. While focusing his attention on the picture of the mysterious key, the phone on Beckett's desk rang. Instinctively, Castle began to reach for the receiver, catching himself as he remembered where he was. He began to curl his fingers as he glanced over at the Captain's office, the phone ringing again. It didn't appear as though the conversation was going to end in the next few seconds.
Making a fist as he grimaced, Castle stared at the phone as it rang a third time. 'Could be important,' he reasoned wordlessly as he quickly picked up the receiver. "Detective Beckett's phone."
"Castle?!" Lanie exclaimed. "Didn't you learn anything last time you answered Beckett's phone?"
"Apparently n- OWWWWW!" Castle wailed as the excruciating pain that began in his ear coursed throughout his body. "Apples! Apples! Apples!"
Smirking, Beckett released his ear as she simultaneously removed the handset from his grip.
"It's for you..." he mumbled as he massaged the tender helix of his ear.
"Hey Lanie, what's up?" the detective voiced, eyes locked on Castle as she grinned triumphantly.
"Just got the results back on the contents of your vic's stomach and intestines. They were empty, but he did have a blood-alcohol level of 0.06%, so he had been drinking prior to his murder."
"Okay. Anything else?" Beckett inquired.
"Isn't that enough?" the M.E. sassed.
"Thank you, Lanie," the detective smiled.
"Mmm-hmmm…" Lanie hummed as Beckett ended the call.
"So?" Castle muttered, still rubbing his ear.
"So… Jack had been drinking prior to his death, but there was nothing in his stomach."
"Okay…" Castle stated, absorbing the new information. "And what was up with Gates?"
"She wanted to ensure we'd be careful while interviewing Vanderhall. A billionaire media mogul mixed up in a murder could be messy if not handled delicately."
"Indeed…" Castle nodded before adding, "and nice alliteration."
Beckett's eyes rolled as she shook her head, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. Crossing her arms, she took a few silent moments to look over the murder board while the boys were on their way to talk to Vanderhall.
"Okay…" she began, going over the basics of the case as much for Castle as she was for herself. "Jack Armstrong was found in his tub after being choked and beaten. Thirteen gold coins were found stuffed into various cavities of his body. There's no evidence he'd eaten anything prior to his death - although he had been drinking - yet the residue in his mouth indicates he'd eaten sugar cane… which makes no sense." She paused as she looked over at Castle.
He picked up where she left off. "A week after the theft of some precious gems from a museum exhibit, those same jewels are found in our vic's apartment along with a key to… who knows what. And the girlfriend of the victim is employed by a publishing company owned by the man for whom the victim worked for two weeks ago."
Beckett released a long, frustrated sigh as she gazed at the board. "It's here, Castle. The key to solving this whole thing is staring at me and I just can't see it."
"Well..." he began, "maybe…"
She glanced at her partner, eyes wide in anticipation of a wild story that might lead them to a plausible theory.
"...the emeralds were needed to activate an ancient mythic porthole that is hidden somewhere deep in the jungles of South America. A porthole that controls time and space-"
"You watched Tomb Raider this weekend, didn't you?" she interrupted, sarcasm oozing.
Castle pursed his lips together sheepishly. "Maybe."
Beckett exhaled as she turned her attention back to the white board, perplexed. Her disappointment, however, was short lived as her cell phone chimed.
"Beckett," she stated lifting the phone to her ear.
"Yo. Just finished chatting with Vanderhall. He's not our guy."
"How do you know?"
"He was also at that same business dinner with the vic's girlfriend."
"Damn it," Beckett muttered aloud.
"We did, however, get a list of everyone who was at his 60th birthday party. Figure Armstrong might've worked that gig in order to meet up with one of the guests."
"Nice thinking, Espo," Beckett praised before adding, "Have the girlfriend take a look at the list. Maybe she'll recognize someone."
"As you wish," the Latino replied before he hung up.
As she put her cell back in her pocket, Castle threw himself into his chair. "He wasn't chewing on sugar cane!" he exclaimed.
"Sorry, Castle, you lost me," Beckett replied, taking a seat at her desk.
"The saccharum residue in his mouth. It wasn't from sugar cane," he stated flatly as if she should be able to read his mind. Wide-eyed, she motioned for him to continue. "Saccharum is also the main ingredient in Jamaican Rum. That's what Jack was drinking before he was killed!"
Beckett quickly opened a folder sitting on her desk and skimmed through the file. "There's nothing listed in the CSU report of any rum bottles in the apartment."
"Hmmmm… that's interesting," Castle murmured inquisitively as he glanced at the picture of Captain Jack that was hanging on the murder board. "Why is the rum gone?"
"Beckett, look at this."
Kate diverted her attention from her computer monitor to the chair beside her desk where, at that moment, her partner was sweeping his fingers across his iPad.
"Did a little research," he began. "Those thirteen gold coins were part of a very specific collection." He turned the iPad so she could see the screen.
"King Victor Emmanuel III?" Beckett queried.
"Apparently, this former Italian King donated his extensive collection of ancient coins to the Italian people prior to his death. Over time, some of the collection was lost, some of it was stolen, and some of the coins ended up in private collections."
"Okay…" Beckett murmured, partially to herself as she studied the screen.
"These particular coins," Castle motioned to the photograph of the thirteen Italian Florins that was posted on the murder board, "were not part of any museum collection, so I figure that Jack either stole them from someone while he was working one of his parties as the Pirate Captain… or…"
"Or?" Beckett turned to face him.
His mind was racing. His eyes dark, deep in thought.
"Or… they were supposed to be a payment. Like an exchange," he theorized aloud. "The emeralds for the coins."
"But how did he manage to get the emeralds in the first place?" Beckett paused. "Armstrong had no priors. No record. The guy was clean."
"Uhhhh… maybe he'd just never been caught?" Castle offered.
The two studied the murder board intensely. They were almost there. They just needed-
"Security guard!" Beckett exclaimed, wheeling around to grab a file from her desk.
"Huh?"
"During his five months of unsteady employment, Armstrong had been a security guard…" she ran her finger down the report, eyes frantically darting across the page. Suddenly, her finger stopped and a huge grin lit up her face. "He was a security guard for six weeks at-"
"Lemme guess," Castle beamed, "at The Metropolitan Museum of Art?"
"Yep," she confirmed, tossing the file back on her desk.
"So Jack gets a job as Museum security," Castle began, "and everything is okay-"
"-but he's still not making quite enough to make ends meet-" Kate added.
"-and all of those priceless antiquities, right there in front of him-"
Beckett inched herself towards the murder board. "-and one day he's approached by a guy-"
"-a guy who makes him an offer he can't refuse-" Castle quipped as he took a step forward.
"-steal the emeralds from the French Grotesque statue that's on display at The Met and get paid a hefty sum-"
"-but Jack has no clue how much they're actually worth-" Castle turned to look at her.
"-and when he finds out the true value of what he's taken-" she whipped her head around to face him, their bodies less than a foot apart.
"-he gets a bit greedy-" he shuffled closer.
"-so after downing a few shots of liquid courage-" she leaned towards him.
"-he demands more money-" he grinned, eyes locking with hers.
"-and gets killed instead!" she exhaled excitedly.
The electricity jolted between them, the air thick as they stared at each other, eyes dark and lustful - completely aroused as their bodies canted towards each other, unable to resist the intense magnetic pull.
"Yo Beckett, pay dirt!"
Shaken from their trance, faces inches apart, Castle and Beckett tore their eyes from each other to look at the approaching detectives. As the writer cleared his throat, Beckett took an extremely slow, deep breath as she casually sat down at her desk.
"Showed the guest list to the girlfriend," the Latino began. "Nothing popped, but Emma did mention that Armstrong met with some guy about three months ago. Told her it was a job interview. She never got the guy's name, but she still remembers what he looked like 'cuz he freaked her out."
"Enough to get a sketch?" Beckett asked eagerly.
"Way ahead of you," Ryan noted as he slapped the drawing up on the murder board.
"Well..." Castle remarked with a smirk, nodding towards the sketch. "I think I know who the killer is."
I figured that was fitting for Castle say prior to the final "commercial break"... ;)
One chapter left. Hope to get it written soon.
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Thanks to lv2bnsb who posted a Tweet that inspired the "Apples" moment.
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As always,
There you go... Judge away. :)