A Fly in the Garden: Chapter 4
DISCLAIMER: None of these characters are mine, but they are memorable. Thank you, Mr. Marlowe.
Saturday, February 20, 2012 – 9:07 a.m. – At the Castles Complex in Sausalito, California
The unmarked black car pulls up to the security gate at the secluded complex. The morning sun is already rising to the east, already a couple of hours into the sky, and a soft breeze whistles across the trees. Stan Collins usually handles the night hours at the entry gate, but for the past week he has switched to the morning shift. His eyebrows raise as the window lowers and he sees the well-known face of the passenger in the front seat across from the driver. A visit by Sandra Clooney, the mayor of San Francisco, is a first for the Castles.
"Mayor Clooney," Stan greets the two in the car.
"We're here to see Mr. Richard Castle," the driver tells him, handing him the mayor's identification credentials.
"Is he expecting you?" Stan asks, glancing down at his tablet, reviewing today's calendar.
"Yes," the mayor replies succinctly. Her office had called Castle early this morning to set up the visit. Castle had offered, of course, to come into the city, an offer the mayor had promptly refused.
"It's best if I come out to your place, Mr. Castle," the mayor had told him cryptically, and said no more after that. So here she sits in her town car awaiting passage, which is promptly granted by Collins. A minute later, the large vehicle comes to a stop at the administration building and the mayor steps out of the vehicle onto the stone sidewalk leading up to the building. Castle, already alerted to the mayor's arrival by Stan, opens the door as the mayor is still walking up the pathway. Her driver remains in the car, windows rolled up.
"Mayor Clooney," he greets her, hand extended.
"Mr. Castle," she says affably, taking his hand in a firm, rapid up and down motion. "Thank you for seeing me so quickly," she continues with a small knowing smile, "although I question how much choice I actually had in the matter."
"Bob can be . . . persuasive," Castle smiles in return as he steps out of the way, allowing the mayor to walk through the doors into the building.
"Right down this hallway," he tells her, watching her take in the foyer area with an appraising eye.
"This is an impressive place, Mr. Castle," she tells him as they walk, as she mentally recalls the drive onto the campus itself. She had heard that it is expansive and elaborate out here, but seeing it for the first time had rendered her temporarily speechless in the car – a scenario that seems to repeat itself with first-time visitors, no matter their position in life.
"Yes, well, this whole concept, the whole idea has taken on a life of its own," he tells her modestly, which she immediately refutes.
"Save the humility, Mr. Castle. This establishment is nothing short of spectacular, and sources tell me that it is doing exactly what you so boldly predicted early last year."
"Sources, eh?" he smiles, and she falls into the easy banter with the ex-author, immediately recognizing why Weldon is so fond of the man.
"We all have them, do we not?" she offers with another smile, which he reciprocates as they enter the conference room. Inside the conference room sit Kate Beckett, Mike Monroe and Detective Jennifer Blackard, who was the first call Kate made after Castle had received his phone call at 6:30 this morning from the mayor's office. That hadn't given the SFPD detective much time to get ready and get out here, so she is munching on a bagel with cream cheese as the mayor walks in, forcing her to quickly swallow and wipe her mouth.
"Mayor Clooney," Castle begins, "may I present to you Kate Beckett, ex-detective for the NYPD and currently a private investigator on our team here at the Castles."
"And your girlfriend, as I understand," the mayor adds with a nod of the head toward Kate.
"This is Mike Monroe, head of security here at the Castles," Castle continues on without missing a beat, but still smiles at Kate in reaction to the mayor's subtle jab.
"Mr. Monroe," Clooney replies with another nod of the head, then glances over at Blackard.
"Detective Blackard, how nice to see you here and involved in this," the mayor says in greeting, as the two women shake hands warmly.
"Not a lot of female detectives in the city," she tells Castle by explanation, "and certainly not many – male or female – as good as this one here." Jennifer Blackard almost blushes at the compliment. In truth, the mayor is hiding nothing, as she knows the detective from her record, and obviously taking an interest in one of her top detectives in the city that also happens to be a woman. Then she surprises the room by turning to Kate Beckett.
"I understand that the same can be said of you, ex-Detective Beckett. Bob was very clear last night that I should trust you and Mr. Castle implicitly, without hesitation. He also said you were – and I quote – 'the best damn detective in New York' before Mr. Castle spirited you away."
Now there are two blushing women in the room, as Castle and Mike Monroe work hard to control the smirks which threaten to take over their faces. The moment is short-lived as the mayor quickly gets down to business.
"I also must say that that was the extent of the cordiality of my conversation with your friend in New York, Mr. Castle," she tells Castle, now targeting him with a firm but friendly gaze. "Bob was very clear in stating that you are wondering why my office isn't doing more to uncover what is happening with our missing women out here."
"Bob is nothing if not accurate," Castle volleys back. Bob Weldon had called him back last night, just before midnight, to let him know how the conversation had gone. Having the mayor of New York warn him that he had taken a bit of a hard line with his west coast counterpart is coming in handy now. Castle has been expecting the warmth to fade, and now as it does, he is prepared. He stands firm in his resolve, knowing that this mayor will respect him for it . . . another seed of advice planted by Weldon in their late night conversation. It works, as the mayor of San Francisco nods her head admiringly, her normally just-below-the-shoulder length brunette hair up in a small bun.
"Well, let's get down to it," she tells him, taking a seat before it is offered. The remaining three in the room take seats at the table with her.
"In a nutshell, I believe this is a human trafficking issue," she begins. "I don't think this is murder, I don't believe this is kidnapping. There are no bodies, and no ransoms. After all of these months, at least one of those scenarios would have come into play. That they have not leaves me only door number three."
Although everyone has suspected this, it still is a splash of cold water to hear these words come from the city mayor. A splash that also incites a hard reaction.
"With all respect, Ms. Mayor, but if you suspect human trafficking, why in the world isn't there more publicity on this?" Kate asks, verbalizing the question on everyone's mind.
"Because I have no proof," Mayor Sandra Clooney responds, her own fire simmering in the gaze she plants on Kate Beckett. "As I said, the other natural scenarios are not playing out. No bodies, no ransoms. That doesn't leave many alternatives."
"If you don't mind me asking, although I think I already know the answer," Castle interrupts, aiming keep the conversation cordial, "but why did you want this meeting here at our facility, instead of at city hall?"
"Because I want this conversation away from any and all ears at city hall, Mr. Castle," she replies quickly. "I cannot believe that all of this is happening, and that no one – in city hall, in our police department – no one knows anything. No one? I have nothing from my police department. I have nothing from the DA's office. My meetings with my people give me the same damn, frustrating blank faces month after month. Either someone is a master criminal operating beneath the radar, or someone in my city is a tremendous actor."
"You're leaning toward the latter," Castle remarks with a stare.
"I'm leaning toward the latter," she agrees with another nod of her head. She notes the flicker behind the philanthropist's eyes, and makes a mental note to question him about it later. Clearly the mastermind of this campus facility suspects something, something he has yet to articulate to his own team. Her respect for him grows another notch.
"After speaking with Bob last night," the mayor continues, "he agrees, this is far too brazen for absolutely no one to know about it," and once again she notes the subtle nod of the head from Richard Castle. She is relieved when he speaks up.
"If this is a trafficking scenario," he begins, "which I agree that it is, then we have to be very careful. On the surface, this may appear like a small, one or two person operation, but if it is trafficking then there are behind the scenes players –"
"Who may be in your hallways," Detective Jennifer Blackard interrupts, "or in our precincts."
"True," Castle agrees. "Or it could be prominent business persons – anyone. But there are multiple sources."
"There has to be a buyer," Kate adds, inserting herself into the conversation, "which means middlemen in the loop."
"There is probably muscle somewhere," Mike Monroe remarks. "There is big money here, so someone is providing the security, just in case."
"Which explains my concerns," the mayor tells them, re-establishing herself. "Someone knows something, and when I get deer-in-the-headlight looks from my team . . . well, that just doesn't lend a lot of credibility. And now with another missing woman this morning, I fully expect –"
"What?" Kate interrupts, her face showing the surprise that is painted on her colleague's faces as well.
"This morning, actually late last night, another woman went missing. From the wharf. Pier 39 to be exact," the mayor tells the stunned group.
"Why haven't we heard –"
"Do you watch the news first thing Saturday morning, Detective Blackard?" the mayor replies, answering the question before the detective can finish. "Most people don't."
"There is going to be panic," Mike Monroe mutters, half under his breath.
"Indeed, Mr. . . Monroe, isn't it?" the mayor continues. "This is the second disappearance in as many nights. That's a first. Before, we were losing women once every couple or few weeks. Now, two women in two nights? This just escalated in a big way."
"What is her name?" Castle asks. Of course he would care about the name, personally. This entire establishment reeks of a man who cares personally, not corporately.
"Lisa Ward. Her sister Claire went to the restroom after they had dinner down at the wharf. She comes back and her sister is gone."
"Just like that?" Mike asks.
"Just like that," the mayor responds.
"I don't like it," Detective Blackard comments.
"Neither do I," Kate chimes in. "This is a clear change in pattern, a clear break in M.O."
"Which means this just became less predictable," Blackard adds solemnly.
"It doesn't matter," Castle remarks, drawing attention to himself. "This isn't the first time a bus has not been involved. It changes nothing. Most of the time, there are women being taken on buses, or on bus routes. Last night was an aberration, according to the data."
"True," the mayor agrees. "I have to agree with Mr. Castle. That's not what is important."
"What is then?" Monroe asks the group.
"The fact that this is the second missing woman in two days," Castle replies, drawing another nod in agreement from the mayor. "That is the break in pattern, the break in M.O." he continues.
"And that is why I have to make some sort of statement," the mayor admits. "I hesitate only because I can't be sure that everyone in an official capacity in my department is clean on this."
"You think someone is involved?" Jennifer asks incredulously.
"No, detective," Clooney replies. "But as I said, I do think someone knows something, and I want to keep that person – or persons – in the dark in terms of what we do know."
"Why not simply say what is going on?" Castle asks, drawing the first disapproving glance from the mayor.
"What would you have me say, Mr. Castle?" she begins. "Should I go on television and tell women to be careful on our city buses because we suspect a predator is stealing and selling our women. I will drive ridership on the buses out of existence, and have my transportation manager screaming bloody murder. And then when the public finds out we have no – and I mean zero as in none – leads on this?"
"You're thinking lot of politician," Castle chides, unable to hide his disappointment as well.
"I am a politician, Mr. Castle," and the public expects me to think like one.
"Your buses are being used to kidnap and traffic women, Ms. Mayor," Castle pushes. "I would think that trumps your political aspirations."
Her gaze is hard as she takes in the writer/philanthropist. Weldon had warned her that he is charming and affable on the outside, but there is a feisty side to Richard Castle as well. Weldon had informed her that Castle himself has an eighteen year old daughter ready to graduate from high school. So yeah, he has a vested interest in this. He is thinking like a father. She allows the slight. For now. Fortunately, Beckett interrupts the brewing heated conversation, nipping it in the bud.
"Mayor Clooney," she begins, "we have been terrible hosts," she says, walking to the glass refrigerator in the corner and grabbing a couple of bottles of water. Handing one to the mayor, she continues.
"Allow me to show you around the complex here, while we all cool down for a few minutes. We all have the same goal."
"Good idea, Kate," Mike Monroe quickly steps in. "Allow me to give our mayor the tour here." God bless Mike Monroe, who has seen enough of the Rick and Kate show in the past couple of months to recognize when there is something brewing between the two. Kate smiles at the security chief in gratitude.
"I agree," Detective Blackard chimes in. "It's a wonderful place, Mayor Clooney."
"Join them," Castle encourages the detective. "You haven't seen all of the campus yet. Mike can give you both the abbreviated tour." Then turning to the mayor, Castle apologizes.
"My apologies, Ms. Mayor. This is just a little . . . raw for me right now."
"No apology necessary, Mr. Castle," Mayor Clooney tells him, meaning it sincerely. "I have no question that your motives are honest."
A moment later, Richard Castle and Kate Beckett are left alone in the conference room while their three counterparts are in a small golf cart, touring the facilities.
"So, what's on your mind, Kate," he smiles, recognizing her desire for a short conversation between just the two of them. Yes, Kate is getting used to everyone here in California, but there are times when she simply wants to confer with the man who she has worked with – successfully – for roughly four years.
"Castle . . . Rick," she begins. "Don't you think this is a bit far-fetched, that MUNI would be involved with something like this?"
"I don't think it is far-fetched at all, Kate," he replies firmly.
"Come on, Rick, you have to admit that's a stretch," Kate counters. "Getting that many people into a crime –"
"No, no, no," he counters himself. "I don't mean I think MUNI itself is officially involved. But their buses are being used. I'm sure of it. At least for a large number of these disappearances. Someone has figured out how to use the buses to shield what they are doing.
"The buses have surveillance, Castle," Kate disagrees.
"Surveillance can be defeated easily, Kate," he counters again. "You know this. Anyway, the fact that surveillance hasn't turned up anything tells me that this is no simple thug trolling the buses. If that were the case, surveillance would have – at least statistically in one of these nine or ten cases – had to have picked something up. It's just the law of averages if nothing else. But if surveillance had picked something up, then the police would know. Jennifer would know. So that leaves two possibilities."
Kate Beckett doesn't like where this is going. One of the possibilities is so nauseating to her that she doesn't even want Castle to voice it. Yet he pushes on. He has to. She knows this.
"First possibility," he tells her. "A bus driver or two is involved, running this operation. I don't think it is a lot of them. Maybe even only one. But if video surveillance on the buses hasn't picked up anything, then that means the bus driver is in on it, and is conveniently turning surveillance off at the right moments, shielding what is happening from the cameras. I hope – I really hope that is what is happening."
"And the other possibility?" she asks nervously, already knowing, fearing the answer.
"The other isn't pleasant at all Kate. The other possibility is that surveillance has picked something up, and the police are aware of it, but aren't sharing it. That's what is worrying the mayor. I agree with her, someone has to know something and they aren't sharing it, even with her. The police are aware of it. And that means that Jennifer knows something, and she isn't sharing. With you."
A/N: First, my apologies for the long delay in continuing this story. My thanks to all of you who PM'd me with thoughts and prayers. We buried my dad last weekend, in a beautiful service, a great send-off for a great man. It's been a brutal, yet beautiful few weeks in so many ways, and I've just been raw. So thank you for your patience, and I will be posting more regularly now – probably not as often as I usually have in the past for a bit, but certainly it won't be multiple weeks between chapters.
God bless you all.