Shared Obsession Chapter 52

Montgomery strides from his office to debrief Ryan and Esposito in the bullpen. "Anything from the other victims?"

"Beckett and Castle are downtown finishing the canvass, but what we do know is that the Keslers and Pastoris didn't know each other. Neither one of them knew the Bruners or Susan Delgado either," Esposito reports.

Montgomery palms his receding hairline. "So much for the personal angle."

"Four luxury buildings, four major scores, and we've got nothing," Ryan recounts. "And if I'm these guys I've got no incentive to quit."

"Yeah, whoever they are they've got some skills," Esposito adds.

Montgomery offers a file labeled CSU. "Yeah, about that. This just came from the lab. The forensics team found brass shavings in the lock on Susan Delgado's door."

"So they used a bump key," Esposito figures.

"A bump key?" Ryan echoes.

Esposito rolls his eyes at his partner. "The bad guys file down a standard house key then use a mallet to force the tumblers apart."

Ryan glares at his fellow detective. "I know what a bump key is, but the hardware on the Delgado's door was a high-end import. No way a standard bump key would work. That crew would have needed something special."

"Something an average mope couldn't rig," Esposito agrees. "I busted a guy a while back. It didn't stick. His lawyers pulled some technical dodge. But he specialized in bump keys."

"Go find him," Montgomery orders. "Get him in here."


A woman smiles at Castle as she opens the door of her apartment at 55 Central Park West. "Richard Castle! I haven't seen you since the Sweet Charity Ball. Get tired of the circuit?"

"Actually, Cici, I've been busy researching with the NYPD for a new book. This is Detective Beckett who is graciously allowing me to work with her. And we're investigating what happened to Susan Delgado."

"Oh yes! Poor Susan. And it's so frightening that anyone could force their way into an apartment in this building. I've already called my security consultant to find out what I can do to make my place more secure."

"Did you know Susan Delgado?" Kate questions.

"I saw her at condo board meetings. She had a thing for baking and would bring the most clever pastries. She would also put some downstairs sometimes for the staff. She was very generous. I only saw her on the circuit a few times a year, but I understand she didn't hold back when it came to writing checks."

"Cici, do you remember couples named Kesler, Pastori, or Bruner on the circuit?" Castle inquires.

"Richard, you know that couples have little cliques of their own. I wouldn't have been sitting at their tables. I think I might have seen their names on silent auctions, but I'm not sure."

"Do you remember which silent auctions?" Kate asks.

"Sorry I don't. But listen, Joanne Delgado was always visiting Susan. If you see her, tell her how sorry I am about her mother."

"We'll do that," Kate promises.


"Castle, you were getting at something," Kate says as they walk away from Cici's apartment. "Do you think the connection between the victims is some charity event?"

"It's certainly possible, Beckett. Invitations don't go out by neighborhood so much as by bank balance and records of previous donations. Maybe all the victims had a pet cause in common. And I just realized that event may not be the only one we're looking for."

"What do you mean?"

"The Bible distributions. A lot of them were door-to-door. But that's pretty labor intensive, and a lot of the work is done by volunteers. It would be hard to guarantee that the Bible went to Jackson or any other members of Bracken's kill squad. But at a meeting, a convention, or a revival, someone from Manna could easily make sure a deadly copy went to Jackson. And gatherings like that usually get better press coverage than door-to-door campaigns. The organizations involved send out press releases and sometimes even take out ads. A giveaway in the right timeframe will be easier to uncover."

"Castle, right now we have to figure out what charity or event connects all the victims before Susan Delgado's murderers strike again."

"Any contributions would be on the record, otherwise they wouldn't qualify for a tax deduction. Can you pull their financials?"

"I'll call Montgomery and ask him to make the request. It will be a lot faster. But Castle, Espo, Ryan and I can dig through the paper if you want to go back to your search for where Jackson got that Bible."

"No, you were right, Beckett. Any time we lose tracking down Susan Delgado's killers will give them a chance to strike again. And they might even hit a home where there are children. Who knows what those monsters might do to kids? I want to help you throw them in a cage where they belong."

"All right, Castle, let's go."


Esposito and Ryan stare across the table at Evan Mitchell. Esposito opens a file. "You're quite a legend, Mitchell."

"Actually it looks like your family is a legend," Ryan jumps in, tapping his copy of the file. "Your Daddy and Granddaddy were in the business too. How did they feel about you having to do a nickel upstate?"

Mitchell shrugs. "Occupational hazard. But if you had anything on me right now, I'd already be under arrest. So what do you want?"

"You're forgetting the gun we found on you, with the serial number filed off," Ryan points out. "At the very least, that's a weapons violation and not the sort of piece carried by upstanding citizens."

"But we might be willing to forget about it if you give us what we want," Esposito suggests. "The gang that killed a sweet little old lady used a bump key, your area of expertise. Did they get it from you?"

"Are you kidding?" Mitchell retorts. "I know half a dozen lawyers who could get that gun thrown out, family legacy. I'm going to make a call and sit tight."


"Find out anything from your bump key guy?" Beckett asks Ryan and Esposito as LT leads Mitchell to Holding.

Esposito snorts his disgust. "Only that he's got a solid alibi for the time of the shooting. We can hold him on a weapons charge, but it's not getting us any closer to the scumbags who murdered Susan Delgado."

"Beckett, the financials you ordered haven't arrived yet," Castle notes. "Give me a shot at this guy."

"Castle, why would he tell you something he wouldn't tell us?" Esposito questions.

"Do you know how many as-told-to books there are about criminals?" Castle asks. "This guy is a specialist, right? He might even regard himself as an artist. An artist proud of his work would want to talk about it, and who better to talk to than a writer?"

"All right, Castle," Kate allows. "Give it a try."

Mitchell looks up as Castle enters his cell. "You're no cop. What are you, a forensic psychiatrist, some kind of profiler?"

"Actually, I'm a writer."

"Embedded reporter, huh? What? You gonna make me famous?"

"Not that kind of writer. I'm a novelist."

"Yeah? Anything I might have heard of?"

"Uh, Storm's Last Stand. Storm Season."

"Derrick Storm?"

"Yeah."

"I love that guy! Why the hell did you kill him?"

"It's a long story." Castle drops down next to Mitchell, whispering conspiratorially. "But I'm working on a new one. And I gotta tell you, it's very cool. But I want to get the details right."

"They never get the details right," Mitchell declares. "Not in books, movies. They always write us as clowns and thugs. They never stop to think that maybe we've got mortgages, families…."

Castle nods enthusiastically. "Exactly. But my book will be different. In it, I have this gang of home invaders, based on the crew we're looking for right now. I've got this one scene where a guy just like you runs into these guys by accident – in the middle of a job."

"Wouldn't happen to me," Mitchell returns. "I'm not doing residentials, at least until you catch these guys. They're dark."

Castle leans in. "What? Do you know them?"

Mitchell looks around and whispers. "A few months back their shot caller came into the bar where I hang out. He was looking to put together a crew and wanted to bring me in. He said he had eyes inside, feeding him Glengarry leads, items, names. He wanted my bump key." Mitchell draws himself up proudly. "I'm the only guy who can make one that works in the kind of locks his marks have."

"And did you give it to him?" Castle asks.

"To get rid of him and stay in one piece. But I wasn't about to join his crew. I just take stuff people can afford to replace. Usually, it's all insured. I just had a gun for protection. I don't want to hurt anyone."

Castle smiles. "Yeah, I know someone like that."

"The guy who was in your book? He's a genius."

"Yes, he is."

"So you'll write about me like you wrote about him?"

Castle claps Mitchell on the shoulder. "I'll see what I can do."