AN: I'm really quite depressed that this story has to end at some stage (don't worry; there's at least a couple more chapters before that happens). I'm going to miss your reviews more than I care to think about. To White Pawn, I think speechless is about the only thing that springs to mind.
Chapter Thirty-Three
"I'm just glad we know that Dad and Beckett are both in the hospital and safe. I'd be worried sick if I didn't know where they were."
Little did Alexis know just how wrong she was. In that very moment Dunnings was running a scalpel up and down Castle's forearm, he wasn't pushing it sharply enough to draw blood. He was just revelling in the contorted look of pain on Beckett's face with every stroke.
"Whoops," he laughed quietly, as he pushed the tip of the blade through the first couple of layers of Castle's skin, resulting in a bleeding nick. It wasn't deep, but that didn't stop Castle from wincing slightly, his arms jerking unthinkingly, trying to pull away.
"Why Peter?" Beckett whispered dejectedly, she surmised if she got him talking it would at least slow the assault on Castle.
"You know why," he hissed.
"No, I really don't. It's not like you were innocent. You killed those people, you know it as well as I do. So why all the need for revenge?" She found her voice as she spoke, it slowly becoming clearer, the determination lacing her tone strengthening.
"Oh, it's not about the life imprisonment, Detective," he murmured coolly. "I suppose after killing a few people I had that coming," he chuckled, it was an eerie noise, devoid of humour. "It's not about the why, Detective, it's about the when, it's about the how."
"Huh?" Beckett managed, the cryptic tone the conversation was taking puzzling her exceedingly. She was met with the humourless chuckle again, it was quickly becoming her least favourite sound, second only to the whimpering that had escaped Castle as the scalpel sliced through his skin. She drew her eyes away from Dunnings and chanced a glance at Castle, his face was paler than normal, a small stream of blood running from his forearm onto the sheets of the hospital bed. The crisp white stained blotchy red around his arm. He looked her in the eye and attempted a weak smile. He wanted to reassure that he was fine, that they were fine. She remained unconvinced, the look in his eyes just convincing her further that they needed to reverse to situation somehow. She was torn from her quiet contemplation by Dunnings who was eyeing her steadily.
"The when and how of my arrest, Detective," he glared at her as he spoke, his tone still a mask of self-control, shadowing his true emotional state. Beckett drew her mind back to Dunnings' arrest. They'd stormed a warehouse where he'd been in the middle of making some untoward deal, surrounded by his cronies and the weasel-faced man he'd been negotiating with. If she wasn't restricted to the bed she would have shrugged, it seemed like a fairly ordinary arrest to her. Obviously Dunnings was inclined to disagree, but why? Dunnings was silent for a moment, then clearly becoming impatient that Beckett was only looking more confused when he'd been hoping for clarity to overcome her features, he continued. "Let's start with the when shall we. To be honest, it's not my biggest concern, but we'll get into the how momentarily. My arrest took place a week before my wedding. You kind of put those plans on the backburner. Then the little bitch I was marrying went and left me so I had to have her killed and believe me, I wasn't happy about that. She was a real looker. But, on the bright side, I'm ever the optimist and that whole kerfuffle gave me this idea about how to exact my revenge. Eye for eye and all that."
"We all know the only person you've ever really loved is yourself, Dunnings," Castle intoned seriously. "You can't blame that on Beckett." If Beckett wasn't restrained to the bed she would have twisted Castle's ear for that, never a smart move to antagonise the man in the midst of torturing you. Still, it was kind of nice to have Castle always at her side looking out for her, overprotective and foolish as he may be. It was also very perceptive of Castle to draw that truth from their exchange with Dunnings, from Beckett's more extensive history of dealing with the man she had reached the same conclusion.
"Look at you jumping to Detective Beckett's defence, how very sweet," Dunnings replied dryly. "You do raise a valid point. However, you're wrong in one regard. I love my brother. Which brings us to the how of my arrest." He paused for a moment, clearly enjoying the power he held in the conversation.
"Your brother wasn't there when we arrested you," Beckett protested.
"Not the point, Detective," Dunnings retorted with a snort.
"Then what is the point here, Dunnings? Because I'm struggling to see it," Beckett hedged, trying to progress the conversation, to keep the man talking and to find some answers.
"You humiliated me," he sneered. "You arrested me in front of my subordinates, you made a joke about how I was less than a man. I could see it in all their eyes, they were trying not to laugh. I was the most powerful man in that room, they all feared me, then in that moment, I lost it. You took my power. You left me the laughing stock of the men I ruled over," his eyes were fierce, his tone indignant. For a man who sought to be in control of every situation, the loss of it was unthinkable. Castle hadn't even known Beckett at the time of the arrest but he could see it play out clearly in his mind, intelligent, witty and beautiful and not even pausing before seizing control of the room, unintentionally humiliating Dunnings and sending him into this haze of revenge and hate. "The worst part is," Dunnings snarled, growing impatient over the lack of reaction from either Beckett or Castle. "I couldn't protect my brother from the inside, not after my power was taken from me. I was no longer the ruthless monster that they feared, I was just another washed up loser behind a cell door. That is why you're going to pay," he turned his full attention on Beckett, and Beckett alone, Castle momentarily forgotten. "You ruined me and the only person I ever truly cared about. So now I'm going to destroy the person you care about most, and the best part? I'm going to enjoy every second of it," the calm and collected tone in which he spoke his threat pierced Beckett's heart.
X-X-X-X-X-X
It didn't take long for Lanie to arrive at the scene. Her preliminary findings were what they had been expecting. Time of death was earlier that morning, around the same time Carl had called in sick to work. Cause of death was a stab to the heart, although with all the other slices to his torso the blood loss hadn't exactly done him any favours.
"You know Castle was right," Ryan admitted heavily. "I liked this case a heck of a lot more when there was no murder victim," he frowned. Esposito patted him on the shoulder.
"Yeah, bro. Let's canvass the rest of the apartment building, surely someone heard something."
"Uh," Lanie cut in, "I wouldn't be so sure someone heard something. See this bruising around his jaw and around his wrists. I'd say his hands were tied behind his back and Dunnings stabbed him with his right hand and held something up to muffle his cries with the left."
"Thanks Lanie," Esposito nodded. The boys moved from the back of the building through to the front, there was a sense of hopelessness. It appeared Lanie was onto something, no one they had questioned had heard or seen anything out of the ordinary. They reached the last door and Ryan sighed.
"Here we go," he muttered with a brisk knock on the door. "Good day Ma'am," he smiled politely at the shrivelled old woman, holding up his badge. She glanced at it through squinted eyes and drew the door further open, ushering them in. The musky scent was overwhelming, but the detectives managed to mask their gagging. Ryan coughing quickly before taking the seat offered to him by the woman.
"Would you like some water?" her face wrinkling even more in concern.
"I'm fine," Ryan stated. She turned her gaze on Esposito, he shook his head with a courteous smile.
"What can I help you nice young men with?" she beamed, clearly excited to be entertaining house guests.
"How well do you know Carl Pardray in number five?" Ryan smiled sweetly at her.
"Oh Carl, he's a lovely young man. He always helps me bring up my groceries and asks about my grandchildren," she gestured to the numerous photos of freckled smiling children lining the walls. "I have thirteen of them you know," she stated proudly, her chest puffing out. "Carl's not in any trouble is he?" she gazed at them speculatively.
"No Ma'am," Ryan gently took the woman's hand. "I'm sorry to tell you, but Carl Pardray was murdered this morning." She gasped, tears welling in her aged eyes.
"No," she breathed out slowly. "That's dreadful. Have you caught the person responsible?"
"Not yet, but we will Ma'am," he reassured her softly. "Did you see or hear anything out of the ordinary this morning?" Esposito rose from his chair and made his way to the kitchen, pouring the woman a glass of water and placing it in her hand as she spoke to Ryan.
"Actually, now that you mention it, there was something, a man. He hurried out of the building this morning, I was standing in the doorway waiting for my cab and he just pushed right past me. He didn't even apologise. In fact, he muttered something about people rudely blocking doors. The nerve of him, to shove past a little old lady like that. The worst part though, he stole my cab!" she was indignant, the memory well and truly ingrained in her sometimes flighty memory.
"Is this the man? Esposito pulled Dunnings' mug shot from his pocket. The old woman nodded with a sniffle.
"Is he the one who killed poor Carl?" she asked, her voice quivering.
"It would appear that way Ma'am," Esposito replied, his tone sympathetic. He slipped her his card. "Let us know if you remember anything else."
X-X-X-X-X-X
After leaving the elderly woman's apartment Ryan immediately called the cab company. He hung up the phone with a sigh and turned to Esposito.
"So the GPS systems in the cabs are malfunctioning at the moment. If we want to know where Dunnings asked to be dropped off we have to speak to the actual cabbie who picked him up. Luckily, dispatch gave me a number, we need to speak to one Emilio de Lugo and he just finished his shift so chances are we'll find him at home," he filled in his partner on the snippets of the conversation he had missed.
"Let's pay Mr de Lugo a visit then," Esposito grinned and herded Ryan out the door to the parked cruiser.
The pair found Emilio de Lugo at home just as the cab dispatcher had said he would be. He was tired and clearly a little grumpy but otherwise amicable enough.
"Yes, I remember picking up that man," he pointed to the mug shot in Esposito's hand. "He was fine, paid his fare, no trouble. I'm good at reading people though, and this one," he gestured at the photo once again, "he was creepy, 'ay. I was glad to get him out of my cab."
"Can you remember where you dropped him off? It's very important," Ryan intoned, an air of desperation to his tone.
"Yes, no problem. I dropped him at the hospital. That big one downtown." Ryan and Esposito shared a glance of unadulterated fear.
"Is that where Beckett and Castle are?" Ryan hissed, already fully aware of the answer, his chest tightening in fear at the knowledge.