Shared Obsession Chapter 100
Kate scowls at her computer screen as she reads an email. Castle leans on his elbow at Kate's desk. "Problem?"
"This is the report from CSU. The water from Ashley Cosway's tank doesn't match the samples from the bodies."
"So now what?"
"We still need to find the connection between the two cases. We should get Jason Cosway back in – and the Marxes. Maybe something will pop."
The Marxes and Jason Cosway eye each other from seats across the interview lounge. Kate occupies a chair between them on one side and Castle on the other.
"So my father's death wasn't a gang killing or a random mugging?" Christina Marx questions.
"We don't believe that it was random. And we also have reason to believe that his murder and that of," Kate nods at Jason, "Mr. Cosway's wife are connected. We think that the same person killed your father as killed Ashley Cosway and then tried to stage the killings as isolated incidents. Have any of you ever met before?"
"No," Jason answers a beat too quickly.
"I don't think so," Christina replies. She looks at her husband. "Hon?"
Eric Marx's eyes flick to the floor. "I'm sorry, no. I've never seen Mr. Cosway before."
"Then perhaps you're all acquainted with a third party," Castle posits.
Kate pulls two 8X10s out of an envelope. She hands one to the Marxes. "This is Ashley Cosway." She passes the other to Jason Cosway. "This is Frank Anderson. Do either of them look familiar?"
Heads shake around the circle.
"Ashley Cosway was a therapist. Did your father ever go to therapy?" Castle asks Christine.
"Dad, no way!" Christina declares. She glances at Jason. "No offense to your wife, but he didn't believe in that kind of stuff."
"Do you know any of your dad's contacts who might have had a more positive view of Dr. Cosway's profession?" Castle queries. "Or perhaps someone who might have received court-mandated therapy?"
"No, um, wait, maybe."
"Maybe who?" Kate presses.
"There was this guy, I think his name was Grovner. He was the father of a kid Dad flunked. Dad was trying to help the boy, tutoring him after school so he could raise his grades. But his father didn't want his son around Dad anytime except when he had to be in class. From what I heard he was kind of a …."
"Racist?" Castle suggests.
"Maybe. Anyway," Christina continues, "he shoved Dad. Security got involved and called the police. I think Dad said the judge made Grovner take anger management classes or something."
"Ashley taught anger management classes as part of her practice," Jason volunteers.
"So this Grovner is violent and had contact with both of them," Kate summarizes. "We'll look into that. Thank you all for coming in. I know the continuing investigation must be difficult at this time."
"Just get the animal who killed my Dad," Christina responds.
The '30s era building where Grovner sits on a stoop could be elegant with proper upkeep. Unfortunately, no one seems to be giving it any. Exiting his unit, Esposito points at the man calmly reading a newspaper. "Feels like Christmas."
"Don't start unwrapping any presents yet," Kate cautions, "the connection could just be a coincidence. Ready?"
Kate and Esposito stand guns drawn while Ryan shines a bright light on Grovner. "Get your hands up, Buddy," Esposito commands. "Let's see 'em."
Grovner puts down his paper and raises his hands. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Always glad to help out the police, but what's this all about?"
Kate moves in, her gun still pointed at the suspect. "Wesley Grovner, I'm Detective Beckett."
Ryan starts frisking Grovner. "What? Did I miss another parole meeting?" the suspect asks.
"He's clean," Ryan reports. He wipes his hands on his tactical vest. "So to speak."
"Where were you last Tuesday night, Mr. Grovner?" Kate demands.
Grovner stares at her in confusion. "Am I being punked?"
"If by punked, you mean arrested for murder, then yeah," Esposito retorts.
"You think I went somewhere on Tuesday and killed somebody?" Grovner asks with sudden amusement.
"Actually two somebodies," Castle replies from behind Kate.
Grovner nods toward Ryan. "Then your pal here should learn to go a little lower when he frisks someone." He lifts a large foot to show off the tracker on his ankle. "Nice bling, huh?"
Ryan swallows. "Oops."
Grovner grins. "Check this out." He shoves his leg out over the sidewalk and an alarm sounds. He brings his foot back and it stops. "This stoop is the edge of my earth since I busted parole a week ago. Whatever you think I did, I ain't your guy."
"Damn coincidence," Esposito mutters.
"Apparently Ashley's anger management classes weren't as successful as they might have been," Kate explains to the huddle around two murder boards. "Grovner pled out on an assault charge. He was paroled a couple of months ago but got himself violated. Seems that his records were sitting on someone's desk and hadn't been updated to show the monitoring."
"Which leaves us where?" Castle asks.
"I don't know," Kate admits. "And we've been over these cases so many times it's hard to see straight. All right. We'll start over with fresh eyes. Ryan, Esposito, you take our murder. We'll take yours."
"All right," Esposito agrees.
Castle throws out a hand. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, say that again."
"You take our murder, we'll take yours," Kate repeats.
"Could it be that easy?" Castle asks. "I'll take yours, you take mine."
Esposito's eyes narrow. "What are you getting at, Castle?"
"Strangers on a Train," the writer replies.
"The Hitchcock movie?" Ryan asks.
Castle pulls the photos of Jason Cosway and Eric Marx off the boards. "I'm more partial to the novel by Patricia Highsmith, but yes. We have suspects with solid alibis for each murder, right? But we know they're connected somehow. Lanie and Perlmutter showed us that. A couple of days ago a nascent felon got information from another party to steal the attention of my daughter's boyfriend. So what if these two provided information to each other to go after their respective targets?" He switches each photo to the other board. "Crisscross."
"If Castle is right, we have to find the source of that water, our version of a train," Kate figures. "Jason Cosway doesn't know you guys. You can follow him. Castle and I can hang back out of sight and keep tabs on Eric Marx. If they converge somewhere there's saltwater, we can move in."
"That would be a lot easier if Montgomery didn't have us on shift in the middle of the night," Ryan notes.
"I heard that," Montgomery announces from behind them. "You work whatever hours you need to get these cases closed and I'll work things around. So get your asses out of here and grab some shuteye. I want you on these dirtbags in the morning."
"Last call for express service to Wall Street," The ferry captain announces. "Last call express ferry from Chelsea Pier 66, Greenwich Village to the World Financial Center. Last call."
With binoculars to her eyes, Kate nudges Castle. "Eric Marx is boarding the ferry right now. Want to bet that Jason Cosway won't be far behind?"
"And that the water around here matches the samples on the bodies," Castle adds.
"And there's Cosway. Ryan and Esposito should be right behind him. And there they are. Feel like moving in?" Kate asks.
'That," Castle replies, "would be my very great pleasure."
"So," Montgomery says, flipping through the report Kate hands him, "I get why Eric Marx wanted his father-in-law taken out. But why would Jason Cosway want his wife killed? Couldn't he have just divorced her?"
"She had family money that dated back before she married Jason. She would have kept all of that in a divorce," Kate explains. "Ashley's parents are deceased and they have no children. If his plan succeeded, as the spouse, Jason would have inherited everything."
"Money, always in the top three on the motivation hit parade," Castle says. "Now the only thing he'll be coming into is a life sentence. Well, that will teach him not to plagiarize."
"What do you mean?" Montgomery asks.
"If he had made up his own plot twist instead of borrowing one, he might have gotten away with it."
"Speaking of plot twists," Kate says as she and Castle walk to the elevator, "maybe we can make up one of our own."
"I'm all ears," Castle says as the doors close behind them. "Or any other body part you like."
Kate grabs a handful of masculine behind. "I'll hold you to it."