'Where's Adam?'

Beckett demanded it when Montgomery walked into observation with her and Castle as they stared at Aaron Attwood. No longer was he the snotty self-righteous bastard he'd been the day before. Now he was just like George Elliott had been - sweating buckets as he tried to figure out a way out.

'Oh, he's up in the infirmary, they want to make sure he doesn't need to get checked out for a concussion or an aneurysm,' Montgomery replied. 'How's Blake doing?'

'He agrees to taking bribes from Attwood to look the other way on certain cases Attwood was investigating but that's where it stops. Attwood never gave him names only numbers. He only started to look at things when Attwood told him that the Raglan case had to be buried and when he realized that Attwood was connected to the murder, he panicked and ran to the airport somewhere Attwood couldn't find him.'

'So he says,' Beckett scoffed. 'Doesn't matter if it's an inch or a mile, he's on their payroll and that's what we need for the ADA to get a conviction.'

'If he gets a good lawyer and gets a lighter sentence will you be okay with that?' Castle asked, and to his surprise Beckett nodded.

'He goes to trial, he's convicted and he's in prison, that's a win for me. He will know he sold his decency and his soul for a few dollars and when he hears it in black and white from Ian Link he's going to realize just how big a fuck-up he is.'

'Link's good, but the DA himself is going to try this case,' Montgomery told her, rolling up his sleeves. 'So how you want to play this guy?'

'I'm thinking that if you take the lead and let Attwood think he's off the hook, it will rock him. Too bad Adam couldn't take this one either.'

'I saw the tapes from how you got him to play Elliott yesterday. It's another brick for me to lay at Delancy's feet to get Adam reinstated.'

'I don't understand why he was booted from the force in the first place when it was a justifiable manslaughter charge and he wasn't even bound over for trial since it was obvious he was protecting his lover.'

'That's politics, Kate.' Montgomery looked at her with a grim expression. 'It had to be a unanimous vote from One-PP and he was short one vote.'

'That's disgusting, couldn't he appeal?'

'The decision from One-PP was his appeal, and they still said no. Hopefully, showing he's been an invaluable asset to this investigation might sway that final vote if he decides to re-open his appeal now that the time-limit has run out. But Adam has to wait until we wrap this, so let's go fry this bastard like a Thanksgiving turkey.'

Beckett nodded, and spared Castle a single look but it was all she needed as she saw the look in his eyes that told her no matter what he would be there for her.

She followed Montgomery into Interview and wanted to laugh at the relief on Attwood's face when he saw the captain walk in, sit down.

'Roy, thank God you're here to talk some sense into your detectives. I have no idea why they would interrupt my holiday so rudely.'

'I've spoken to my detectives, Attwood, and it's been straightened out.'

'Good, that's good to hear because rest assured once I get back to IA, you will be drowning in

'Oh, I wasn't finished, Aaron,' Montgomery went on, eyes glittering coldly at this man he'd once believed was worthy of trust, even if he was in IA. 'It's been straightened out you were part of the ring of Narcotics Bureau cops who were taking money from Julio Robinson, the same dirty cops who were involved in the murder of Matthew Montrose.'

'That is preposterous,' Attwood spluttered but Montgomery was on a roll now.

'Once we had a little chat with Roman Moore, who I just got word was transferred out of Rikers and into Five Points just last night on account that some people might get it in their heads to take a swing at him after he talked to the cops, the only way to figure that somethign like that could have been buried was to have a man in Records and a man in IA.'

'Thanks to my brain-trust,' Beckett said, rhythmically picking up the routine, 'we dug into your record. You, John Raglan, Frank Cowlan, George Elliott and Christopher Spitzer were all friends when you met in class at the Academy. If a long time friend of mine has my back like that, I'm going to guess there isn't anything in the world you wouldn't do for them, including covering up the fact one of them killed a fellow officer in cold blood.'

She leaned forward. 'Matthew had a fiancee, her name was Eleanor Barclay, they'd been together for four years and they had a two-year-old daughter named Jaime, they'd picked that name because it's French for 'I love' and they'd made that baby together when they'd gone to Paris for their one-year anniversary.'

Beckett had to pause at the next part because when she'd looked up the articles on Matthew's death and seen the mini-bio on him, she'd had to pause when the tears had come. 'She was four months pregnant when Matthew was killed, and she said that he'd taken to calling her Ellie the Belly because she was so much bigger with her second pregnancy. God only knows how, but she managed to stay strong enough to deliver a healthy boy she named after his murdered father. Did any of you stop to think about Eleanor when you murdered him, cut off that life? Did you ever stop to think that an innocent baby would never know his father or that a little girl would have her mother explain to her that Daddy wasn't coming home because the bad guys shot him?'

It made her think of Meredeth, of how she'd been older - an eleven year old - when Constance had told her that her mother had died, of how Meredeth had been the one of all of them to receive the news that her cop had been shot on the job and how strong she'd stayed through it all. Beckett studied Attwood's blank face as the image of Meredeth sitting stoically with her man flashed in her mind and knew that Attwood would never understand that kind of strength.

'No,' she decided with a grim sneer. 'No, your kind never does because the only thing a selfish, heartless motherfucker like you ever thinks about is money and covering your own ass for your own ends.'

'Detective Beckett.' Montgomery knew he was going to give her a zip-line to run on but he knew it only took his quietly authoritative mention of her name to have her quietening once more. He turned his gaze once more to Attwood. 'Aaron, you know you're sunk now, so you need to come clean with everything that you know about the murder of Matthew Montrose, and how all of this got started.'

'I want a lawyer,' Attwood demanded, 'I'll have your badges before this is done.'

'You got that ass-backwards, boy.' Now Montgomery's placid demeanour went stony and he leaned forward to push into Attwood's personal space. 'You are the one who is through, and whether or not you get the needle for conspiracy to murder no less than four people, one a police officer depends on how co-operative you are right now. Just like Elliott, just like Goddard.'

He saw the flicker of fear in Attwood's eyes. 'Yeah, we already got the guy who took out Raglan, not too hard after he got into my detective's face and Cowlan was stupid enough to use a registered cellphone to call him up for his services.'

'Now wait just a damn minute those phones are burners, they...' Attwood trailed off as he realized his fatal error. 'I want a deal.'

'The hell you're getting a deal,' Beckett began, but Montgomery held up a hand.

'Let's hear what he thinks his sorry ass deserves.'

'I tell you everything I know, turn states evidence, and I get to get on a plane to Botgota and you'll never hear from me again. Scout's honour.'

'Interesting. Here's my proposal. You tell us everything you know, and in exchange I don't snap your useless dick off like a twig for being a worthless lying sack of shit,' Montgomery replied in so chipper a tone, Beckett had to check herself from blinking in surprise. 'Maybe, if I'm feeling generous I'll tell the DA's office you co-operated and you'll get life in prison concurrent instead of consecutive sentences.'

Before Attwood could respond, there was a knock from the opposite side of the one-way glass. Beckett had Montgomery pause the interview - she didn't want to miss a single step - and both went into Observation to find Castle with his cellphone outstretched and a grim look on his face.

'It's Ryan,' he said coolly.

'Ryan?' Beckett took the phone. 'Where are you?'

'We went to pick up Spitzer. He's been dead about ten hours, shot three times point blank in the head.'