Shared Obsession Chapter 26
Kate fixes Kirby with an icy stare as his eyes drift down from her face to her breasts. "Mr. Kirby, you're not lounging around with your old pals from the 134th. You're at the 12th, about to be charged with a felony. And no one here likes you well enough to cut you a break. So if you don't want to spend the next 25 years in Attica, you'd better give me something I can use."
"Come on, Detective, Horn was worse than the scumbags I used to arrest," Kirby insists. "He was having his adventures while he was feeding at the public trough. I had the photos anyway. Why shouldn't I use them?"
"Because it's illegal?" Castle suggests.
"Hey! I wasn't the one dipping my churro in sugar nearly half my age. The guy had it coming," Kirby declares.
Beckett lunges from her seat and leans on her palms over the Box's battered table. "Except that he found out and came after you."
"Yeah," Kirby admits.
"So what happened, Kirby?" Kate presses. "Did he lose his cool, get violent?"
Kirby's mouth gapes. "What? No!"
Kate hovers accusingly. "You put a round in Horn's head and tried to pin it on Calvin Creason."
Kirby throws out his hands. "Hold on there, Nancy Drew. I didn't kill him. You can't get money from a dead man. Every knee breaker in the city knows that. He came to me to find out how much it would take to make the whole thing go away forever."
"What did you tell him?" Kate questions.
"I thought what the heck and went for it. I asked for $250,000. I never thought he'd say yes, but he did. He told me he got the money. He was supposed to be meeting me with it the night he was killed. He never showed."
"Or he did show, and you killed him for it," Kate suggests.
Kirby rolls his eyes. "Are you kidding? If I got that kind of money, do you think I'd hang around to chase more bored husbands screwing hookers? With that kind of cushion to my pension, I'd get a nice little place in Jersey and a big-screen TV. And the last thing I'd want is to have some stubborn detective like you coming after me for murder. As I said, he never showed."
"Maybe you're telling the truth, Kirby," Kate considers. "But you're still going to have a nice little place, about eight by six feet, while you serve your sentence for extortion."
"Hey, I helped you out. You should help me," Kirby protests.
"If you're telling me the truth, I can ask the DA to knock your sentence for extortion down to the minimum."
"That's still four years," Kirby argues.
"Which is a lot better than 25," Castle points out. "You can spend them dreaming about the ladies in your pretty pictures."
Kirby shakes his head in disgust.
"So, Beckett, assuming that Dirty Kirby was being straight with you in there, where do you think Horn got the money?" Castle queries while preparing a pair of lattes. "And where did it go?"
"You helped fund Weldon's last campaign, didn't you?"
"Uh-huh."
"So who kept track of the contributions?"
"Bob always knew who his big boosters were, but his campaign manager knew the details."
"Which means that Nesbit would know about any rich friends Horn had," Kate assumes.
Castle offers her a mug. "If he was doing his job."
"We should find out." Kate takes a sip of her foam-topped beverage. "This is good, Castle. We'll go see Nesbit – as soon as I finish it."
Kate and Castle thread their way through the crowd at a political rally where Nesbit is at the microphone. "What happened to Jeff Horn was a tragedy, not just for his family, but for all of us he served. And though violence stole his life, his wife is here with us today, refusing to let violence steal Jeff's dream of a better New York. Ladies and gentlemen, Laurie Horn."
Although her steps were hesitant, Laurie Horn seems comfortable in front of the crowd. "Thank you. Thank you so much. It should be Jeff speaking with you today. It should be his calming voice, not mine that you hear."
While Laurie continues, Kate motions Nesbit to the edge of the gathering. "I need to know who your big campaign contributors were."
"What big campaign contributors?" Nesbit asks. '"This is a race for City Council, not president. We rely on thousands of small donations, not a few big ones."
"Some of them must have deep pockets," Castle insists.
"The depth of their pockets is limited by the law. Aren't you a Weldon supporter, Mr. Castle? You should know that."
"But if it wasn't limited by the law, did Horn have any contributors he could ask to go the extra mile?" Kate questions.
Nesbit's expression darkens. "Detective, with all due respect, I'm not letting you start a witch hunt against our top supporters. If you want to go through a list of our campaign contributors, fine. That's a matter of public record. But for anything else, you're on your own."
"Castle," Kate asks, looking up from her computer, "if we go over Horn's campaign donations list, could you tell me offhand who the contributors with real money would be?"
"Maybe, some of them. I'm on the circuit for some of the more glittery charity events. Mother pushes me into attending so I'll pay her way in. She likes to activate her graydar there."
"Her graydar?"
"An unerring instinct to spot distinguished, well-to-do men with no wedding rings. She still likes her fun."
"Well good for your mother. Nesbit was right about the names being public record. They're right here online. Will you take a look?"
"Of course, but I'm not sure how much it will help. The rich, especially old money, are rich for a reason. They're cheap. Charitable contributions are fine, up to a point. They're tax deductible and buy a lot of goodwill. But handing over a non-deductible quarter of a million would be one hell of a favor. For that, someone would have to be a lot more than a supporter."
"Maybe, Kate considers, "but have a look anyway."
"As you wish, Detective, but isn't another matter more pressing?"
"What, Castle?"
"Seeing what Dr. Murray came up with. I could still schedule a meeting for tonight. I can invite him to my loft. He likes the place. He says it has good acoustics. How about eight? Alexis will be busy in her room with her homework and Mother will be at the theater."
"All right, Castle, but that still gives you time to look at the contributors list."
"Yes, it does."
"I'm sorry, but none of those names jumps out at me," Castle apologizes as he finishes going through Horn's supporters list. "Only a few on there hit the legal limit, and as far as I could tell, none of them are leading lives of the rich and powerful."
"I guess that's what I expected," Kate admits. "But I was hoping someone would pop up."
Castle checks his watch. "You're off-shift, aren't you? If we go to my loft now, you could eat supper with Alexis and me before Murray arrives."
"You didn't intrude on my father-daughter time. I'm not going to intrude on yours," Kate decides. "I'll come over later to meet with Murray."
"Do you know my address?"
"It's on your rap sheet, Castle."
"Oh, great. But to save you the trouble of pulling my file again, I'm at 425 Broome Street, top floor. I'll let the doorman know to expect you."
"Fine, See you later, Castle."
"See you later, Detective."