Shared Obsession Chapter 27
Smiling engagingly, Clark Murray extends his hand. "A pleasure to meet you, Detective Beckett. I've heard good things."
"You must have been talking to Lanie Parish," Kate assumes.
"Actually, I was talking to Sidney Perlmutter. He shares my love of opera, although I believe his tastes lean a bit too heavily toward Wagner. Still, he admires your ability to close cases and get them off his desk. However, I believe we're here to discuss two unsolved murders. He points to the canvas bag over his shoulder. "Rick, there's a lot here. Where do you want me to lay it out?"
Castle points toward the dining table. "Over there would be easier to gather around than my desk."
Murray starts toward the table. "Very well." He begins by laying two plastic reconstructions of blades on the wooden surface. "Did you suspect that there might be a connection between the two murders?"
Kate and Castle lock confused gazes for a moment. "Uh, no. We had no idea," Castle finally admits.
"What kind of a connection?" Kate demands.
Murray unloads his files. "Ms. Beckett and Ms. Lawrence weren't similar in age or physical condition. And from their bone structure, they shared very little in ancestry. However, the knives the murderers used to stab them, and the pattern of the attacks had a great deal in common. The blades weren't identical, but they were the same type, military boot knives. They've often been favored by special forces in Afghanistan. Before that, Gurkhas used that type of blade as well. As to the method of attack, both killers started with a fatal blow to the kidney that would have caused their victims to bleed out very quickly. But they followed up with randomly placed wounds."
"As if they wanted to disguise the efficiency of their kills?" Castle asks.
"Or make it look like some novice gang member made a random attack?" Kate offers.
"Both possible," Murray agrees. "At the time, the PCR amplification technology to deal with minuscule samples like a trace amount of sweat or a single hair follicle wasn't as well developed. And as you probably know, hair analysis without DNA was discredited in 1996, after it was proved that some investigators even confused animal and human hair."
"Yes," Kate acknowledges. "A lot of convictions were thrown out after that. My mother freed someone who was falsely convicted by that type of analysis."
"Neither Johanna Beckett nor Celia Lawrence was raped," Murray continues.
"Thank God for small favors," Castle mutters.
"But that also meant there was no semen to analyze. CSU didn't do any lifts for sweat, and there was no evidence of saliva."
"How about a hair with a follicle?" Castle presses. "Even if it couldn't be analyzed at the time, was one found?"
"The CSU investigator noted what looked like an eyelash that dropped on Ms. Lawrence, but it was never analyzed."
"Could it still be?" Castle questions.
"If it was properly preserved. It would have had to be protected from degradation all this time. If the lash was in plastic, enough moisture could have gathered around it to allow bacteria to break the DNA down. If it was in a paper bindle, it might still be usable. If so, Dr. Parish or Dr. Perlmutter might be able to access it."
"Do you think that Johanna Beckett and my Aunt Celia were killed by the same person?" Castle asks.
Murray shakes his rapidly balding head. "No, I don't. The angles of the thrusts were different enough so that it looks like Ms. Beckett's killer was taller than Ms. Lawrence's killer, probably by about two inches. Also, the knife went deeper into Ms. Beckett than it did into Ms. Lawrence. But I do believe the two killers were similarly trained."
"Maybe in the same military unit?" Castle proposes.
"It's possible."
"It's a place to start," Kate declares. "And it's a lot more than we had before."
"Anyone want a drink?" Castle offers. "I have 50-year-old single malt."
Murray holds up a hand. "Normally, I'd love it. But I'll have to pass. My vocal coach got me an opening with Madame Sepandowska in two hours. She only gives classes at night, and she's only in the city for a short time before returning to Europe. I may never get the chance again, and I need to have all my wits about me."
"How about if I send you a bottle?" Castle asks.
"When you solve these murders, I'll toast to your success."
Lanie points to two banker's boxes sitting on her desk. "That's the evidence from both cases. And I checked. A bindle with that eyelash is still there, and the follicle is attached. The lab could run it. And the clothing from both Johanna and Celia is also still there. They could try doing some lifts. But Kate, are you sure you want to do this? Last time, you went through hell trying to get yourself out of your rabbit hole. And Castle, there's no guarantee that eyelash or anything else will lead anywhere. Do you really want to get that kind of a punch in the gut?"
"The killers were probably military. Their DNA could be on file. If there's any chance of identifying them, I want to take it." Kate declares.
"And I've had plenty of opportunity to deal with disappointment, Dr. Parish," Castle adds. "That's part of a writer's DNA."
"All right," Lanie agrees. "I'll do what I can with this stuff. But two cold cases aren't going to be at the top of the lab's priority list. So it may be a while before I know anything."
"Just let me know the minute you do," Kate urges.
"Dad, Dad, Dad!" issues from Castle's pocket as he and Kate are on their way back to her unit. He grabs for his cell phone.
"Sweetheart, what's the matter?"
"911, Dad. A spot opened up in the music camp I wanted to go to over break. But they need the fee right away, or they'll go to the next person on the waiting list. Can you transfer the funds today?"
"Of course, Pumpkin. How much?"
"Five thousand dollars. I know it's a lot for two weeks, but Itzhak Perlman's going to be there, and Joshua Bell. They're giving masterclasses, and I'll get to talk to them and everything."
"All things considered, it sounds like a bargain. Text me the details, and I'll send them the money," Castle promises.
"Thanks, Dad. I love you."
"Right back at you."
"I thought Alexis is on a strict allowance," Kate comments as Castle types in the entries to arrange the transfer.
"She is, but I told you I help out with special events. To an aspiring violinist, they don't come more special than this. She was pretty heartbroken when she ended up on the waiting list. So I'm happy I can do this for her. But you know, Beckett, Alexis called the person she knew could come up with the money for her, right away. Horn must have had someone like that."
"You said Laurie Horn comes from money," Kate recalls. "But could he go to her to pay off someone blackmailing him for cheating on her?"
"Maybe she would give it to him if it meant shielding her children from disgrace. A lioness will do anything to protect her cubs."
"But what if protecting them meant more than coming up with the money?" Kate wonders.
"You think Laurie Horn killed her husband, rolled him up in a Creason rug, and threw him in a dumpster? She's about five foot six and doesn't look like much of a gym rat. And would a furious wife think about framing someone? She had help," Castle asserts. "And if Jeff Horn was disgraced, who would be disgraced with him?"
"Nesbit."
"Who, if Jeff was killed, could replace him with Laurie and remain the power behind the throne. It all fits, Beckett."
"Right," Kate agrees. "But we still have to prove it."