Who Are You?

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: I don't. You know that. Rating: M, occasionally. Time: Season Seven.

Chapter Nine

Espo hung up the phone after talking to the Castle's in Haiti. "I hope the hell they find out something. I've been reading these reports until my eyes are sore. We got nothing."

Ryan smiled at him. "Oh, ye of little faith."

Espo sat up. "You found something?"

Ryan nodded. "I got everyone even remotely connected to the case and ran their phones and financials. Look who pulled perimeter duty on the day of the cops' shooting to keep the idle curious away."

Espo looked at it and shrugged. "So? Three cops go down, everyone shows up. Wants to help. If I hadn't been up to my ears in another case, I'd have been there, too."

"But look at the financials I pulled." He handed over another file.

This time Espo sat up and took notice. "That's a lot of money. And all under ten thousand so the IRS doesn't get notified. "Espo checked further. "Wait. These are all by checks from casinos in Atlantic City. What kind of a dirty cop takes a payoff by check?"

"A smart one. Let's say you're a dirty cop. Now the New Jersey gaming commission keeps most organized crime out of the casinos, but you and I know that some wise guys have their foot in the door. So, you tell a crooked dealer to let your cop buddy win and then you cut a check. If anyone in the NYPD finds out about it, they have nothing. So the cop wins at poker? All that you can prove is that the cop's a good poker player. I'll bet all of this goes on the old income taxes, too."

"So what do we do?" Espo asked.

"The checks get deposited on Mondays, so I'll bet that our poker playing cop spends the weekends in AC. Wanna head for the casinos, partner?"

"Better than reading the damned files."

…

The next morning Rick and Kate came down for breakfast. They passed the usual collection of vacant eyed, lovely Haitian women on the way. At the bottom of the staircase a man met them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Castle. I was just coming up to get you. Mr. d'Erlon is having breakfast on the balcony and wishes that you join him. This way please."

Surrounding the balcony was a riot of colorful tropical flowers. Mr. d'Erlon, sitting at a table, looked up at them and smiled. He was fiftyish, dressed in white slacks and an aloha shirt and had his hair carefully combed over a bald spot. "Please, sit down and have breakfast. Clarice will serve you whatever you wish."

Clarice was another blank faced Haitian woman who pushed a cart loaded with food to the Castles. Rick filled his plate while Kate, not wishing to accept a drug dealer's hospitality, had a coffee and a sweet roll.

"I am a bit surprised that the NYPD responded so quickly to my offer to talk." d'Erlon said.

Rick smiled. "If we'd waited for the NYPD to act, we'd still be filling out paperwork. I bought us first class tickets to Haiti. And got us a nice hotel room."

D'Erlon laughed quietly. "Of course. You are a famous and wealthy writer of mysteries. I fear I have never read your books, Mr. Castle. I have had quite enough violence in my life, I need no fictional violence." Getting no reply, d'Erlon went on. "I should perhaps explain my position here. I am, as they say, a pillar of the community here. You will notice that the roads here are paved. I see to that. After all, I sell gasoline at my service stations. I need for my customers to be able to use their vehicles."

"The children here all go to school. I make sure that their teachers are paid on time and paid well. I also see to it that every child gets a good breakfast and a good lunch. Of course, I insure that they all know that this comes from their Oncle Julian." D'Erlon sighed. "Young men with no education, and no real hopes of a life without an education are a curse in this world, Mr. Castle. All they are good for is mindless violence. I have seen too many children like that here in Haiti and more in New York. I cannot have that here in my back yard."

"I am well connected with the government and even with the United Nations. Even your government finds it politic to deal with me. So, I will admit to you that I was a drug dealer in New York. I tell you this so you will accept what I say, as I will never be extradited to the US. Do we understand each other?"

Rick nodded and Kate said, "We understand each other perfectly."

D'Erlon smiled. "Good. We, and by we, I mean all of the drug dealers in New York were being robbed by your three dead policemen, Dunn, Borelli and Grenzler. However, they were just the hired help, so to speak. Their bosses, and note I use the plural, we higher up. The cops were stupid enough to complain about their bosses in front of us. The bosses were smart. The cops had to hand over every cent they stole. That way they wouldn't have their cover blown by some underpaid cop showing up for work in an expensive sports car, or bragging about a trip to Vegas. The idea was that when they were all ready to retire, they'd divide up the money and leave New York, probably for someplace with no extradition treaty with the United States."

"So how did Moncrief get killed?" Kate asked.

"As I said, the three cops were stupid and unhappy with their lot. They felt they deserved a bit of fun for all of their troubles. So, when they robbed Moncrief, they took out ten thousand dollars for themselves and a bit of cocaine. They hired some hookers and had a nice little party one weekend."

"We know about that." Castle said.

"So did their bosses. They told the three cops if they ever did that again, they'd find other cops to do their dirty work for them and cut them off. What could the three do? Go to the police?" D'Erlon laughed at his own joke.

"For some reason, they decided that Mr. Moncrief had ratted them out. They cornered him in an abandoned building where Moncrief had a secret hiding place for money and drugs. Everyone involved is now dead and no one can be certain of what happened. But, we think that they threatened Mr. Moncrief, he panicked and stabbed one of the policeman and tried to run. He was shot in the back and finished off with a round to the head. One of the cops was injured, so they put Moncrief's body in the secret room and the money, a notebook and some film. The injured cop made up some story as to how he was injured and they intended to return when things died down and recover the money and other things."

"So, you had the three killed to avenge your money man?" Kate said, coldly.

"Not us. Someone else."

"Does this someone else have a name?"

"Eduardo Izquerida, a Cuban gangster who ran things in New York for a group of Cubans in Miami."

"Wait!" Castle interrupted. "How did the Cubans get involved in this?"

"Not the Cubans, just Izquerida. Izquerida was a moneyman like Mr. Moncrief. He was supposed to take a duffel bag of cash across town, but it was Sunday and his wife insisted on going to church. So, off he went with his wife, son and daughter, but no cash. The three dirty cops stopped him and demanded the cash. They were outraged when they found out he had none. They beat him up, hit his wife, called her a puta, a whore, slapped the son, who was eleven and terrified his daughter who was nine. Then they let them go, with a warning."

"He must have been furious." Castle said, quietly.

D'Erlon nodded. "He expected such treatment for himself, but he couldn't allow his family to be treated that way. Now this happened before the murder of Mr. Moncrief. Izquerida knew that if he had the dirty cops just killed, the higher ups would just find more dirty cops to rob him. But, he found about the killing of Mr. Moncrief and somehow, he identified one of the higher ups."

"Who did the killing? Izquerida?" Kate asked.

D'Erlon shrugged. "No one knows. They were brought in from out of town. When the three cops showed up to get the money, they were ambushed and killed. Everyone hoped the police would find Mr. Moncrief's body and the money. Then everyone would know the cops were dirty and killers. But, if anyone found it, they kept it quiet. Izquerida suggested to the higher up that he'd identified that he'd kill him and his whole family if anyone ever came near him again. "

"Are you suggesting…" Kate began, angrily.

"There are other dirty cops out there, Detective. Perhaps they really never found anything. One would think that if the bosses did find it, they'd have taken it away. But who knows?"

"Where is Izquerida now?"

"Dead, Detective Beckett. He died of cancer two years ago. Others probably know something of what happened, but I don't know who they are."

"Did Izquerida's threat work?" Castle asked.

"No one bothered Mr. Izquerida or his family, but as far as I know, the robberies by police continued for some time. With smarter police doing the dirty work."

….

"Welcome to the gilded mousetrap." Ryan said as they left the elevator from their room at the casino.

"What?"

"The gilded mousetrap. Casino architecture, Javi. You leave your room, you have to go through the casino. You want to eat, the restaurants are through the casino. The bar? Through the casino. Bathrooms? Through the casino. Everything takes you through the casino."

"Okay, so let's go through the casino and get breakfast. I'm starving."

They picked a spot in the restaurant where they could watch the floor and waited for their waitress.

"So, what do our two non-tipping cops want this morning?" Her name was Andi, according to her nametag, and if she'd been taller, she'd have been a showgirl.

"That obvious?" Espo asked.

""'Fraid so. So, what do you want to eat?"

"First tell us why we stand out?" Ryan interrupted Espo, who was about to order.

Andi smiled. "You gonna give me a big tip?"

Ryan handed her a five.

"Hotel security. They see you're packing. They check your car and run the plates. It's NYPD. Security puts your photos out. Easy."

"Do any of the players know?"

Andi shrugged. "Probably not. You don't make any money by frightening the players away."

The two detectives dawdled over breakfast, then walked out onto the casino floor. "See, Javi? No clocks anywhere so you can't tell what time it is. And the windows are darkened. It's mid morning, but to the gamblers, it could be any time. See those old ladies feeding the slots? They probably don't know what month it is." Ryan smiled. "When you're old and retired, you'll probably end up here, shoveling your pension into one of those things just to have someone to talk to."

"Nah. I'll talk to my old partner about the good old days."

"Jenny will just love that."

They spent hours walking around the casino, going outside to the boardwalk, looking around, then coming back in. They browsed in every shop, not buying any of the tourist merchandise that was for sale. Everyone was extra polite to them, leading them to believe that their pictures had been sent to everyone in the casino. They ended up eating dinner at another restaurant. The waitress was Carolyn, and she might have been a showgirl.

"So, does everyone know we're cops, Carolyn?" Espo asked.

She looked surprised. "Um, cops?" She paused. "Would you like to order?"

"We know how it works. Security sees were armed, checks the cars, finds were NYPD and everyone gets our pictures. So why hasn't some nice friendly PR type guy come by to ask why we're here?"

"That's why I'm here." A voice from behind them said. The PR guy was so friendly looking that both cops distrusted him at once. He sat down at their table. "Ryan Cousins, management. To answer your question, if you'd showed up with a warrant, we'd have met you with our attorneys. Since you didn't, and you obviously didn't come here to gamble, we assume you don't want to cause a scene and we don't want to cause a scene and so we leave you alone. You weren't planning on causing a scene, we're you?"

"Us?" Ryan managed to act insulted. "Never. Unless someone starts a scene first."

"If you could tell me why you're here, perhaps I could help?" Both detectives noticed how sincere his smile looked.

"We're big boys. We can handle this ourselves."

Cousins smiled. "Then I'll leave you to it."

After dinner, they walked around the casino again. "We should hit the penny slots or something, bro. If you don't gamble, there's nothing to do in a casino. Or we could go to a show."

"Our poker playing cop won't be at a show. We're here on business not for fun."

"We should have brought Castle." Espo grumped.

"Not needed. Our night just got a lot more interesting." Ryan pointed to a familiar face just entering the casino. "Let's go."

They followed the suspect to a room off the main casino floor with a sign that said, "Private." As they started to go in, a large bouncer stopped them. "Sorry, fellows. This is for high rollers only and by invitation only. You can gamble elsewhere, okay?"

Epso showed his badge. "I'm sure you know who we are and we need to see our colleague. Or would you make a scene by stopping us?"

Another suit walked up and asked what the matter was. When Espo explained, he smiled. "Of course. Go right in."

The suspect was sitting facing away from them at a poker table.

"Good evening, Lieutenant Bergdahl. Mind if we chat?"

Bergdahl put down her cards. "You two are better than I thought you were." She tossed her cards to the dealer. "Jimmy, I fold. I had garbage anyway. And cash me out. We'll be at the bar, having a beer."

Bergdahl walked them to the bar and ordered beers. "So, now it's time to hear my life story."

"We'd be interested." Espo said.

"My uncle Jerry was a professional poker player. He lived in Vegas, but traveled about half the year. When he'd come to New York, he'd stop and see us. He taught me how to play poker and how to read people. That last comes in handy as a cop. Anyway, I played a little in high school, but there aren't many teenaged poker players. When I got to college, I found more players. I soon discovered I was a lot better than the local competition. Pretty soon, nobody wanted to play with me. Off campus I found it was easy to get into games. Everyone wanted to play with the hot chick who thought she could play poker. And after a while, none of the locals wanted to play. When I became a cop, the same thing. Everyone wanted to play with the hot cop. Until I cleaned them out."

"Must have been tough on you." Espo said, unsympathetically.

Bergdahl shrugged. "Being a cop, I couldn't play in any games in New York, gambling is illegal. So, I started hitting the casinos in AC. They know they'll get a certain number of really good players, but they'll also get a ton of lousy players, so they don't care if I win a lot. Just so you know, IA knows all about my gambling. They keep an eye on me so that if I start losing bigtime, they can intervene." She smiled. "Actually, having a cop around who knows poker and casinos can be a help. I've been loaned out to vice and even the New Jersey gaming commission." She smiled. "So, you two have my story and now you should go check on it." She downed the rest of her beer. "And I have a poker game to get back to. Good night, Detectives."

….

"Detective Beckett? Mr. Castle? My office, please."

Rick and Kate found themselves sitting with Ryan and Esposito in Gates' office. She closed the door.

"Would you please tell me what you found out in Haiti?"

Kate told Gates and her detectives what they'd been told.

Gates nodded. "How very convenient that Mr. d'Erlon blames the death of the three officers on someone who's dead and can't be questioned." She turned to the two detectives. "I want you two to look into Mr. Izquerida's past and see if there's anyone who might be able to corroborate d'Erlon's story." She held her hands up to stop the two from speaking. "I know. It's highly unlikely that anyone at all involved in a murder would talk about it, but we might be pleasantly surprised."

Ryan muttered something about leprechauns and unicorns that Gates pretended not to hear.

"Mr. Castle, I have a job for you." She told Rick and Kate about what her two detectives had learned about Lieutenant Bergdahl. "I understand that you're a good poker player, Mr. Castle, so I'd like you to play poker with the lieutenant and see if she's as good as they say. And I'll be joining you, of course."

"You, sir?" Castle was surprised.

"Did you think I'd never played poker before?"

"Of course not, sir." Castle lied manfully. "I'd like to do this in my home, which means Kate will be there. She's a good poker player, so I'd like her to play, too."

"And I'd like Ryan and Esposito there as well, sir." Kate quickly added.

"I'll be happy to cover everyone's losses, sir."

"I'd assumed we'd not be playing for money, Mr. Castle." Gates said sharply.

"Playing when there's no risk is different than even playing for low stakes. People play differently, I've found. They take more risks, since they have nothing to lose. We wouldn't get a real appreciation for Bergdahl's abilities."

Gates thought for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, a dollar a chip and no single bet over five dollars. And if anyone feels they're losing too much, they drop out."

Both Martha and Alexis were somewhat shocked when Rick advised them of the upcoming game.

"Really, Richard? You're having Captain Gates over for a poker night. And some detective from IA? Can we expect a raid by the vice squad?"

"No, we're checking out Bergdahl's alibi. She claims she legally and fairly wins at poker at casinos in Atlantic City. Gates wants to make sure she's that good a player. Naturally, she came to me to do the testing."

"Can I play, Dad?"

"No. Not tonight. Not ever. You shouldn't be playing poker."

"You and Kate play?"

"Do as I cay and not as I do. And remember…."

"You're the father." Alexis finished for him. "So, I guess I can go out clubbing with some friends while you break the law with impunity. If I get busted someday, can I depend on you and Kate to make everything go away?"

"If by everything going away you mean your allowance and your access to my credit cards, the cars and what not, then yes. It'll all go away."

"Meanie." Alexis said and headed for her room.

"I suppose I'll make myself scarce that night as well. When I was younger being arrested by the police was a rite of passage, but I'm too old for that now."

"The police will not be raiding the place, Mother."

"Unless Captain Gates loses big. I never thought that woman looked like a gracious loser."

When they arrived, both Gates and Bergdahl were impressed with Castle's loft, although both women made an effort not to look too impressed.

Castle had gone all out for the game. He had his black walnut poker table hauled upstairs from storage. He had bought a selection of craft beers for every taste and had ordered hors d'oeuvres in sufficient number to host a Presidential inauguration party and had a maid service in to clean.

"You know, Castle, you didn't go to this much trouble for our wedding." Kate had teased when the maids left.

"True, but after years and years of relentlessly chasing you and finally making you mine, I was too tired out to do the wedding up right."

"Nice save."

"I thought so."

"You did do the wedding night properly, though."

Castle just grinned.

Once sitting at the table, Castle began to look over the opposition. Kate was a good player who didn't bluff much, but could, and her face gave nothing away. Both Ryan and Espo had good poker faces, but Ryan was a cautious player, while Espo was too aggressive. Gates had an excellent poker face, but tended to stay in too long when she didn't have a good hand. Bergdahl was good. She had no tells that he could see and he couldn't get a fix on her style of play. He thought that she was being aggressive in one hand and passive in the next to confuse him. Once when he was positive she had a third queen, he stayed in the game, raising right along with her until he called her and found she didn't have the third queen. But, the next time he tried to see if she was bluffing, she not only had the third ten, but she had a full house.

After two hours, Ryan, Espo and Gates were out of the game. Kate was a little behind, while Rick and Bergdahl and Castle were up a bit. An hour after that, Kate was down seriously and Rick was down a bit to Bergdahl.

Gates checked her watch. "Have you seen enough to know if Lieutenant Bergdahl is a good poker player, Mr. Castle?"

He nodded. "She's very good. I expect she'll be retiring to Las Vegas someday."

"That's good to know." Gates said, starting to get up.

"But Castle sees we haven't really learned anything here tonight, haven't you?" Bergdahl said with a coy smile.

"What do you mean?" Gates demanded.

"All we know is that she's a very good poker player. Which means if she is dirty, it'd be a natural way to pay her off. No one could prove a thing."

Bergdahl stood up to leave. "But, on the bright side, I'm up fifty seven dollars tonight. Thanks for the game and the food and drink, Castle. I'm beginning to be glad that Gates kept you around. You are helpful."