Shared Obsession Chapter 124
Kate hangs up her landline and looks up as Castle returns to his usual spot by her desk. "Everything all right with the family?"
"It depends on how you define all right. Mother complained that she's getting bored with her paramour. She's been considering breaking up and returning to the dating pool, which could leave her open for just about anything. But he gave her a romantic remembrance. He dried and kept his boutonniere from their first prom and he gave it to her. That's re-sparked the romance, at least for a while. Alexis wants to tour the morgue with her biology club. Lanie's gotten the go-ahead for her."
"She should be safe enough there," Kate says. "The clients aren't about to commit any mayhem."
"Unless you believe in zombies. But no, I'm not worried about someone coming after her there. Only, she's still so young. It's her time for riotous living. I just don't want her to be around that much death."
"I get your point, Babe. But between your writing and your work here, she hears about death all the time."
"It's not the same as seeing it. But anyway, did Quintana's alibi check out?"
"It did. His building has video surveillance on both doors in and out. He came in at 6:45 and didn't leave all night. He couldn't be our killer."
"How about getting a warrant for a list of all the subscribers to his paper? What he wrote might have set one of them off."
"Already in progress."
"Yo, Beckett!" Esposito calls, exiting the elevator. "I just got back from CSU. They managed to track a blood trail from the killer's shoe across the park. It dead-ended at the curb."
"So our killer was driving a car," Kate surmises.
"Yeah," Esposito confirms. "The area was a little muddy, so we were able to pull a partial on the tire."
"Any make or model?" Kate queries.
Esposito's chest puffs against the snug fit of his shirt. "Better. The tire marks are distinctive. They've been patched in two spots. And those same tires match a car that was tagged in an assault last year. The assault was committed with a baseball bat by one Anton Wade."
Kate types Wade's name into her computer. "Loan sharking, blackmail along with the assault with a deadly weapon."
"Sounds like Mr. Wade is also a collector and/or enforcer," Castle observes. "But why would Vega do business with a loan shark? If he wasn't pulling down the big bucks someone like Fox would have no interest in him."
"We'll get Wade in and ask him," Kate declares.
Kate stands, leaning on her hands at the table in the box. "Mr. Wade, we have you at the baseball field. Your car was at the crime scene, not to mention your unfortunate history of hitting people with baseball bats. All of that's enough to send you away. So you can play dumb or you can play ball."
"Pun intended," Castle quips.
"All right, I was there," Wade confesses. "But I didn't kill him. He was already dead."
Castle arches an eyebrow. "You were just paying the corpse a visit? Into necrophilia?"
Wade's mouth gapes. "Necro what? No, he called and asked me to meet him. And when I got there, I knew how it looked. So I bounced the hell out of there."
"Why would Vega call you?" Kate questions.
"He wanted to make a payment on his loan. He always paid the same way, cash in a plain white envelope. I saw it on him, so I took it. But that's all I did," Wade hurriedly adds.
"The guy's a multi-millionaire. You're a petty loan shark," Castle points out. "What's the guy doing borrowing money from you?"
Wade draws himself up. "In my business, you don't ask, you don't tell."
"How much money did he borrow?" Kate asks.
"He came to me a couple of weeks back, wanted 200 grand. In my experience, if you need that kind of coin, he got himself into some bad trouble – the kind that gets you killed."
"Or maybe he couldn't pay your vig," Kate suggests.
"And you pulled a little Untouchables De Niro on his head," Castle sticks in.
Wade snorts. "A guy owing you money? Killing him isn't going to get you paid. You take his bling, you jack him for his ride, you maybe even bust his kneecaps. But he made his last installment. He paid his vig. We were good."
"Vega's wife didn't know anything about the 200 grand," Kate reports to Montgomery.
Castle fiddles with a paper clip. "It doesn't make sense. With his assets, a guy like Vega could get a loan from any bank in New York City. So why go to a loan shark for $200,000?"
Montgomery swipes his palm over his rapidly thinning hair. "Because bank loans take time. A loan shark gives it to you right away. Maybe he needed the money fast."
"Or maybe he needed it kept quiet," Castle offers. "Loan sharks don't require credit checks or paperwork. Maybe he didn't want his wife to know. Didn't Freight Train say that Vega was with a friend at the club? It could have been a very close friend, perhaps of the female persuasion. Maybe someone threatened to go to Maggie."
"Or maybe there's more to it than that," Kate considers. "Vega didn't want Maggie to know why he went to Cuba, either."
"So you think his trip and the money are related?" Montgomery asks.
"Well, a week after he gets back, he suddenly needs $200,000," Kate says. "It stands to reason they're connected somehow."
Esposito knocks on the door frame of Montgomery's office. "We just finished a search of Wade's apartment. We found a match to a partial shoeprint."
"But here's the weird thing," Ryan adds, coming up behind his partner. "It tested positive for blood on the sole, but negative for blood on the rest of the shoe and negative for cleaning agents."
"So Wade's telling the truth," Castle realizes. "With that much spatter, the killer would have gotten blood all over his shoes. Wade showed up after the murder and just stepped in some, probably while he was getting his payment off Vega. And it was still there for him to take. That means the killer wasn't after money, or he would have taken it himself. And an angry Cuban avenging a perceived betrayal wouldn't account for Vega needing money or his trip to Cuba. There's something we're definitely not seeing. Which brings me back to Vega's 'friend.' I say cherchez la femme."
"Femme or not, most clubs have security video," Kate says. "Let's pull it from Vega's and see what we get. And let's look into Vega's financials. The reason he needed 200 grand may pop out at us."
"Bobby Fox probably has access to Vega's financials," Castle says. "He'd want to keep track of his cut."
"Then we should pay him a visit," Kate decides.
Castle gazes at the wide hallways and oversized offices in the building where Fox works. "What is it with professional sports? I mean, even the agencies are on steroids."
"I checked," Kate says. "Fox's client list is a veritable who's who of star athletes. Five percent of their endorsements and salaries could pay for half of lower Manhattan."
"Only five percent?" Castle queries. "I pay Paula…. Hmm, maybe she and I will have a little talk." He follows Kate to the reception desk.
"I need to see Mr. Fox," Kate announces.
"Do you have an appointment?" the receptionist inquires.
Kate holds up her badge. "I think he can squeeze me in."
An aging but sprightly man stops at the desk. "Rick, Rick Castle?"
"Hey, Skipper," Castle responds, "I haven't seen you since the big move. How are you, Joe?"
"Pretty awful," Joe Torre answers. "I just can't believe this whole Vega thing."
"I know. And I heard you two were friends. I'm sorry. We're here to talk to Bobby Fox about his death. This is Detective Kate Beckett. She's heading the investigation."
Kate gazes googly-eyed at Torre.
Torre smiles. "Hi."
Kate tries to make her mouth work. "Um, Beckett, Kate, Detective. Thank you."
"Very nice meeting you," Torre says.
"OK," Kate responds.
Torre nods. "Well, good luck on the case. And I'll say a prayer for you guys."
Castle extends his hand. "Thanks."
"And by the way, say hi to your mom for me, OK?" Torre adds.
"Will do," Castle promises.
Kate stares after the retreating figure. "That was Joe Torre, Joe freaking Torre."
"I know," Castle replies.
Kate pulls out her cell. "I've got to call my father."
Castle marvels at Kate's discombobulation. As far as he can recall, it's the first time he's seen her tongue-tied. He jams his mouth tightly shut. If he says one word about Kate's fangirlery, he's toast.
