Shared Obsession Chapter 60
Castle shoves a roast in the oven, giving himself time at his computer while the meat achieves the juicy tenderness Alexis loves. As usual, she has an afterschool activity, French Club if he recalls. She still isn't saying much to him, but he's caught her watching him, particularly when he returns from his times with Beckett. The look in Alexis's eyes is more fear than anger. There's not much he can do about that except for emphasizing the precautions he's taking while shadowing his muse. And he did manage to read Alexis a few paragraphs of the new book he's penning. She grudgingly admitted that the story and dynamics between the characters work. That's something, anyway.
His research, at least, seems to be going better. The lesser-known and more politically technical publications chronicling the machinations in DC are proving to be a rich vein. Quistel's name is popping up a lot as present at meetings to support Brinkman's and realistically, Bracken's causes. Unfortunately, it's not a smoking gun, but it's a lot of political activity for a simple Bible salesman.
Castle digs even more deeply into Quistel's DC associations. He spent a lot of time in the company of U.S. officials dealing with Afghanistan. As places go to distribute Bibles, Afghanistan might be enticing to a fervent missionary, but their sale wouldn't serve as much of an income stream.
As far as Castle can tell, neither Quistel nor Manna ever dealt in non-Judeo-Christian holy books. So what was the attraction? Afghanistan has one highly profitable crop – the opium poppy. Chances are Quistel was looking for an entry into drug trafficking, a place where Bracken already had his dirty paws. It also would explain why Bracken would use Quistel to direct Lochlan Jackson and whatever other assassins did his dirty work. He checks his watch. Alexis should be home any minute. The last thing he needs is for her to find him on the phone with Beckett, or worse meeting with her personally. But he can send a text and they can put their heads together first thing in the morning. He'll head for the 12th the moment Alexis is out the door. And if Mother needs something, she can fend for herself.
Kate is just dropping her bag into the drawer of her desk when Castle arrives. She jerks upright. "What have you got?"
Castle hands her a thick file he printed out after Alexis retired to her room for the evening. "Some of the connections are tenuous, Beckett, but they're all there. Quistel is involved somehow in the drug trade with Bracken. So Bracken has Quistel facilitate removing any threats to their operations."
Kate drums her fingernails against her desk. "Castle, if we're going to nail Bracken, we're going to need a lot more than tenuous. We'll need incontrovertible."
"I know," Castle acknowledges, "but are those two going to allow anything that incriminating to get into print? Still, someone must have more on the drug trade out of Afghanistan. How about the DEA?"
"If they know, they're usually not too big on sharing."
"The CIA, then. They not only monitor the overseas drug operations but they've also been known to embed their people in them."
"Castle, the CIA is even less apt to share than the DEA."
"I understand that's usually the case, but I have a contact."
"You do?"
"When I was researching Derrick Storm they allowed me a bit of an in. They claimed it would be better to give me a few accurate crumbs than to have me write something completely idiotic."
"Why you, Castle?"
"From what I was told, someone vouched for me. I have no idea if that was true or who it could have been. But whatever happened, I have a number to call. And as far as I know, it's still operational. So I was thinking I could try – unless you have a better idea."
"I'm fresh out."
"All right. For some reason to which I'm not privy, I'm not supposed to call from inside a building. So I'm going to take a walk. I have to say a code phrase, hang up, and wait for a response of some kind. My contact has this thing about popping out of nowhere. Personally, I think he loves the drama. But wherever I am, he can find me. See you in a few."
A quick glance around her tells Beckett that no one in the bullpen is watching. She stretches up to brush her lips against Castle's. "Good luck."
Engaged in studying the file Castle gave her, Kate doesn't see Allison's widower until he reaches her desk. "Mr. Goldman, what is it?"
"Detective Beckett, my lawyer called the Social Security office to tell them my wife had passed away and…."
Kate points toward the interview lounge. "Let's go in there where we can talk."
Goldman hands Kate a piece of paper and sinks into a chair. "He faxed this to me."
Kate examines the document. "A death certificate?"
"Yeah, for Allison Porter. Porter was my wife's maiden name."
"But it says here that Allison Porter died in 1963."
Swallowing, Goldman nods. "When she was three months old. But this child's Social Security Number is the same as my wife's. My wife stole a dead infant's identity. She wasn't the woman she said she was. Our whole life together was a lie."
Castle takes a seat in a pocket park a few blocks from the 12th Precinct. He'd spoken the phrase he'd long ago been given, at a robotic-sounding cue. Now all he can do is wait. He considers going back to the 12th. It could be hours or even more before his contact makes an appearance, and he's accomplishing nothing here – except breathing. In a way, it feels like he's taking his first really deep breaths since the NYPD passed off Celia's death as random violence. He's put enough pieces together to make out the whole picture. Getting the justice system to see it will be another matter, but now he feels like he really has a shot. And Beckett has a shot at some justice for her mother as well. He doesn't hear a man approach. He just feels him in his space. "Agent Gray."
"Castle. You and Detective Beckett are looking into William Bracken."
"How did you…? Never mind. If you know what I've been doing then you know what I'm going to ask. Is William Bracken connected to the drug trade in Afghanistan and has he been using Fred Quistel and a bunch of thugs to wipe out anyone who got close to figuring it out?"
"Castle, you're kicking over a hornet's nest. You know that, right? Using Brinkman's office, Bracken has been consolidating power for years. We've kept our eyes on the drug trafficking and tried to keep as much money as possible out of the hands of the worst of the terrorists over there. But theoretically, we don't have any jurisdiction in domestic affairs."
"Theoretically, right. But the FBI does. Why aren't they up Bracken's ass?"
"Because Brinkman is still officially a member of the Senate Judiciary and Foreign Intelligence committees. That means Bracken can get his hands on any hard evidence the justice department or intelligence agencies have against him and shortstop it."
"By killing off anyone who could testify against him?"
"If he has to. Money is also a great motivator to stay in the game, and Bracken helps his buddies make lots of it."
"But someone like Quistel would have to find somewhere to hide it or launder it. A Bible-selling operation wouldn't be nearly big enough."
"No it wouldn't," Gray agrees. "But you know how the Russians and the Chinese do it. Even the Japanese, the Yakusa, were big into the process for a while."
"Real estate, buying up property."
"When Japan was riding high, they owned a good chunk of downtown LA. Florida's the Russians' current favorite. But Quistel has a certain affection for the desert and Bracken still loves New York. If he has a soft spot, that's it. Follow the path from the modern castles to the money, Castle. If Bracken made a slip, that's where you'll find it. And Quistel thinks he's a lot smarter than he is. Picking up his trail may be even faster."
"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks, Gray."
"Don't thank me. Telling you this is in the Company's – and the country's – best interests. If you and Beckett go all in after Bracken, you'll be taking on one hell of a job. But if you can remove him from the seats of power, you'll plug one huge intelligence hole. We'll help you if we can."
