A Fly in the Garden: Chapter 13
DISCLAIMER: None of these characters are mine, but they are memorable. Thank you, Mr. Marlowe.
Sunday, February 21, 2012 – 2:00 p.m. – At Richard Castle's Residence in Sausalito, California
"So this is about the missing women?" Alexis asks excitedly. "You know, Dad, somehow I knew you and Kate would end up looking into this."
Castle and Kate share a knowing smile. Of course, Alexis follows the news and social media, and so she is already well aware of the disappearances. Besides, after the first couple of women went missing, Castle very quickly morphed from 'the cool dad who gives her lots of leeway' back into 'the very concerned and over-protective dad', making his daughter swear she would be diligent while away from the house. A promise he once again reminds her of.
Alexis - wistfully fingering a few strands of her bright red hair - can only offer him a sad smile.
"Dad, I kind of think that I'm okay on that front, Dad," she tells him. "Thank God for Gram's and Mom's red hair," she adds, knowing the proclivity towards blondes on the part of the perpetrators.
"So what's the plan?" the young redhead asks, still excited and ignoring her father's obvious concern.
"Nothing that concerns you, young lady," Castle warns, trying his hardest for his serious and stern look, and failing badly.
"Hold on Castle," Kate tells him. "We don't have to get Alexis involved per se, but . . . well, you are the one who always says that it is best to think out of the box. Well, she," Kate continues, pointing at Alexis, "she is definitely out of the box. Maybe she will pick up something or offer something useful. Wouldn't be the first time."
Alexis offers a grateful look at Kate, who simply smiles quickly then turns her attention back to Castle. She knows she is on shaky ground here when it comes to him involving his daughter in something so dangerous – even though the extent of Alexis' involvement will simply be as a listener and possible contributor, but not an active participant.
"What can it hurt, Castle?" Jennifer asks, glancing between Kate and Castle and his daughter.
"Easy for you to think," Castle muses to himself. "She's not your daughter." In the end, however, he has to admit that a different perspective can't hurt. And – outside of her hair color – Alexis is the demographic these people seem to be targeting. She might just bring a different perspective they are not considering. And they are in the safety of his home. He nods his head, offering one of his patented 'you had better not screw this up' stares to his daughter.
As it turns out, Detective Jennifer Blackard knows the address of a suspected brothel owned by one Edward Baker. She begins putting the background information in place for the group to consider as they plan their next move.
"The police . . . well, we've more or less given up trying to bust him at this location," she tells the team, glancing from Castle to Kate. "Eddie is actually pretty smart when it comes to this business. Very much an out-of-the-box thinker," she says with a nod to Kate and her previous comments to Castle.
"He has bought an apartment building. The entire building. It has four floors, with four rooms on each floor. But the rooms are actually regular living apartments. So, we are talking about a building with a total of sixteen small one-bedroom apartments, each with a small kitchen, eating area and living room. Every time there has been a raid, someone launches a quick silent alarm that warns the patrons and the girls. They – the patrons and girls – they all have been well-trained with their responses. When the doors are busted down – or knocked on – there is nothing there but perceived 'tenants' of the building, and the 'friends' that they are hosting."
Castle nods, a knowing smile beginning to paint his face. He has to admire the stones . . . and the imagination of this operation.
"So when the police – you – arrive – you aren't breaking into a brothel with small rooms with a bed and bathroom, the way we see in the movies or on television," he notes out loud.
"Nope," Jennifer replies. "When we have entered a room, officially we are entering someone's home, an apartment being rented by the girl inside. Whether she happens to be engaging in some sexual activity at the time is her personal business," she continues. "Eddie has paperwork in each apartment that shows that each of the girls are renters of that specific apartment. Tenants, if you will. And it turns out that each apartment has two women signed on as tenants –"
"Roommates," Castle muses aloud. "Very, very smart."
"Yeah, like a fox," Jennifer responds. "With sixteen rooms, this allows the building up to thirty-two women to be viewed as tenants. So he can have two girls that can share each apartment, coming and going with their clients, entertaining their men – or women – in their 'home' – and there is nothing we can do about it. What these women do in their – quote – own apartment – unquote – is outside the reach of the law, since there is no evidence of money exchanging hands."
"But money is exchanging hands," Alexis argues, offering her first thoughts.
"Not officially, Alexis," Kate explains. "Any cash found, any money found in the apartment – no matter how much – well, because it is in the apartment –"
"Because they are renting the apartment, it's their home," Alexis finishes for her, now understanding the simple brilliance of the plot. "And any money found in the apartment can be easily explained by someone who prefers to keep their cash on hand."
"Exactly," Jennifer concurs. "It's no different than police coming here to your father's home and finding a large sum of cash here on hand," she adds, shaking her head in frustration as she recalls more than a few raids that have ended in disappointment.
"However, the building does have video surveillance," she continues. "That much we do know. And that's what we want to get our hands on right now. If we can see the surveillance archives, then we can see who has been coming and going."
"Hey, is that going to be admissible in court?" Alexis asks.
"It doesn't matter," Kate replies quickly. "Our goal isn't to use what we find in a court of law. Our goal is to find out who these clients are, see which of these clients have dropped off the radar."
Castle smiles, noting how easily Beckett has been able to change her perspective from that of a cop gathering admissible evidence to that of a private investigator whose sole goal is to get information. What a difference a few months – and a change of scenery – makes.
He continues smiling, knowing full well that it is more than a change of scenery that has caused this change in the former NYPD detective. It is a change in mindset as well, driven largely by the change in their relationship. A change he is committed to making far more official than it stands today. He pushes those thoughts away, getting back to the task at hand. There will be time for that soon enough.
"If we can find one or two of these clients – and I admit it's a long shot – then we can tail them," Castle adds. "We can follow them, find out where they are going. If we are right, then it is somewhere on Angel Island. And if that is where they are going, we can discover exactly where on the island. If we are wrong – well, at least we know where they are going for their new . . . adventures. And we know where the girls are being held."
"And then you bust their call-girl ring?" Alexis muses aloud, then questioning again. "Will it stand?"
"Again, Alexis, we aren't looking to bring this to a court of law," Kate counters. "The end game is for us to find the missing women – period – and bring them home safely. Proving whether or not the clients knew or recognized the women as kidnap victims – that will be damn near impossible to prove."
"Unless," Castle notes, "one of these clients really does turn out to be someone who ought to know about the missing women – someone who had to know. A councilman – or councilwoman – a district attorney, a chief of police, someone in the media."
"So," Kate continues. "Back to the plan. We need to get me into the building so I can look around."
"And you can't pose as a call girl," Jennifer quickly offers, "because Eddie's girls are all known in the house. They each are assigned a specific room. So we have to assume the security guard downstairs knows each of them very well."
"And will probably do anything to get on their good side," Castle says softly, now taking notes again.
"So the girls are well-known to the guard – and the guard doesn't know me – so you are right, sneaking me into the building as a call girl is out," Kate agrees. "So I have to be the damsel in distress. A flat tire maybe."
"A broken down car," Jennifer adds, now taking notes herself as well. "And a lost cell phone," she says excitedly as she jots it down on paper. "That is reason enough to get you on the inside and make a phone call at the security desk, or the house phone."
"And that gives me a chance to take a look around, scope out the location of the cameras, maybe get lucky with a client arriving at the same time," Kate agrees. "A quick jab with a needle, or a sip of a drink, a bite of a cookie and the guard is out. Gives me time to look around. Possibly get access to the surveillance archive."
"But anything you do at that point, though, will be captured on surveillance," Castle counters with a frown on his face. They aren't thinking this through. That concerns him.
"That means exposing you – and that puts you squarely inside Eddie Baker's crosshairs," he reminds them.
"Absolutely," Jennifer interrupts. "Believe me, Sam Carlo's opinion of him notwithstanding, we cannot afford to underestimate what Eddie will be willing to do to protect his very lucrative business."
For a moment the group is quiet, as each contemplates the current impasse. Once again, Castle's fingers drumming along the tabletop draw everyone's attention to the writer.
"There is an easier way, you know," Alexis suddenly smiles, which immediately brings another frown to Castle's face. He knows his daughter far too well, and realizes the young girl has been searching for a way into this, in a much more active, participatory role.
All eyes veer towards the young red-head, who can barely stifle a chuckle.
"Get into the system – get on their network in the building - and ping the server," the young redhead smiles. "Grab the IP address of the surveillance server. Once we have that . . . well, let's just say that there are some very, very smart techie friends of mine back at Branson who can get pretty much any information you want, if they know the IP address of their destination."
"What about passwords? What about their security?" asks Jennifer. "Surely they have a secured network."
This time Alexis cannot hold back her laughter. She notes to herself that Jennifer Blackard is like Kate, like her dad. They don't understand how woefully inadequate normal IT security is when matched against the perceived tech geeks her generation – especially when she or her friends are properly motivated.
"Trust me," she tells them, "once I get the IP address of the server, anything you want to see, you will be able to see."
"Whoa," Castle exclaims. Yeah, this was the dropped shoe he has been waiting for.
"What do you mean once you get the IP address," he asks, his glare calm but serious. "You aren't getting anywhere near this."
"Do you know how to do it, Dad?" she asks. "Do either of them?" It's a gamble on her part, sure. But she is confident right now, because if either Kate or Jennifer could do this, they would have thought of it. They aren't stupid. Castle glances from woman to woman, stumbling for his next words.
"And exactly how would you do this?" Jennifer asks before Castle can speak again.
"Get me in the building – get me next to the building – and I will do the rest," a confident younger version of Castle exclaims, excitedly.