"Ballistics came back." Weekend or not, they're working a murder, so she's back at her desk on Saturday morning, as are Espo and Ryan. The former has piped up as soon as she's walked out of the break room with a cup of tea in hand.
"And?"
"9mm, no record of it in the system."
"Thanks Espo. Wanna run down to Lanie and see what she found?"
"Sure thing." He sets off with a grin, a rare chance to mix business with a little pleasure. She can't deny them the opportunity to at least see each other given they'd normally be spending the weekend together if the body hadn't dropped.
After lunch she drives down to the SoHo apartment where the door is opened by the sniffling Emma Karpinski, a pale brunette with big eyes, puffier and red-rimmed by the obvious crying she'd been doing.
"Detective Beckett? Come in, come in. Call me Emma."
She stepped into a tastefully decorated room, large windows letting in the afternoon sun. The couple had obviously been wealthy enough to afford all this, which tied in well with the financial records she'd perused earlier.
"Emma, I'm very sorry for your loss, and I want you to know me and my team are going to do everything in power to catch the person who did this." She pauses, waits for the other woman to sit, then sits herself on the other chair. "Please, call me Kate."
"I just …I just got in last night. Please, tell me what happened."
"We're still working out all the details. All we can tell you right now is that Victoria was killed two nights ago during a charity-cum-political fundraiser." She pauses for a moment, but presses on. The questions need to be asked. "I have to ask you Emma, do you know anyone who would want to kill her?"
"No. No one. But…"
"Any detail could be useful."
"Vicky was worried about something. Something big. We talked about it before I flew out for the conference. She wouldn't tell me what exactly, because she thought knowing might put me in danger."
"She wanted to go the police?"
"We were going to discuss it more when I came back. I was encouraging her to go to the police, but she was reluctant."
"Do you know why?"
"She didn't know if she could trust any random police officer." The woman's lips wobble, a sheen of guilt and responsibility appearing on her features. "Oh I should've pushed her! I shouldn't have left."
"None of this is your fault, Emma. None." She injects steel into her voice, but knows that residual guilt will possibly never leave. "Did she have any evidence? Papers?"
"She had…she kept it on a USB stick, you know. A small silver one, with an engraving of a rose on it. I'd bought it for her on a whim on one of my trips."
She checks her notes for any mention of a USB stick, finds none. She'll follow this up at the precinct.
"That's good to know. Any other copies?"
"No, she said it might be too dangerous, especially to have at the house."
"Nonetheless, would you mind if our IT-forensics team came and took a look at your computers?"
"Of course not. Whatever you need."
The rest of the interview is brief, and par for the course. The wife is still clearly trying to process everything that has happened, is still in a state of shock. She makes sure a friend will be over shortly to help look after her, and then makes her way back to the car when the phone rings.
"Beckett, it's Ryan."
"Go."
"Found an interesting appointment in our victim's calendar for three weeks ago. Initial JM, 3 pm at the Crossford Café. Unlike all other appointments, there are no other details."
"Thanks, I'll swing by."
The Crossford is a small, elegant café, all quiet nooks and crannies. Privacy is easy, but luckily one of the baristas has a long memory.
"Oh, yeah I remember. Gorgeous. Usually I don't go for the older woman type, you know, but she was…memorable." He has a sleazy grin on his face, and she has to tamp down the instinct to wipe it out with a sarcastic remark. She needs him helpful. "Yeah, she was with a guy. Tall, around the same age as her. They were all handsy and flirty you know."
This makes her rock back on her heels slightly.
"You sure they were intimate?"
"Oh yeah, definitely. Eyesex like crazy, you know."
That pings a memory or two with her. Eyesex like crazy she does know.
"But…" He starts again, and then trails off, this time looking a little down.
"But what?"
"He left first, and she looked different after. Like kinda annoyed or disgusted. As if she'd been faking it when he'd been around."
Interesting. People often forgot that waiters and service staff were around, let slip their masks and guard around them.
"OK, thanks for your help."
"Not a problem." He gives her a lascivious leer again, and this time she doesn't reign in the glare in return. He squirms uncomfortably. Good.
She details her findings to Espo and Ryan when she gets back, sending one to check over the victim's belongings in case the USB had been missed somehow, and the other to look for anyone with the initials of JM who had been in the life of Victoria Kruger.
She herself let her eyes rove over the murder board as the evidence finally allowed for some chinks in the case, something they could use to crack this thing open.
She wanted to celebrate, or at least swap ideas with Castle.
How had she gone three years without his company, she had no idea now. It felt more and more like a mistake every time she thought about it, regrets layering regrets, till that ache inside her throbs once more.
Unfortunately no more leads on the case show up the rest of the day, and reluctantly she sends the boys home, before heading home herself.
For the first time in three years, she curls up with a glass of wine and her original, pre-print run copy of Heat Wave.
Only a few more days till S6. The sneak peeks have been so great. I'm excited!
As always, reviews highly appreciated.