Shared Obsession Chapter 103

Kate hands J an 8 X 10 photograph. "Do you recognize this man?"

"No, should I?" J asks.

"His name is Victor Fink. He owned the art gallery where you were shot," Kate explains.

"He was there with me?" J queries.

"He was shot and killed," Kate replies as gently as she can.

J cradles his face in his hands. "Oh, God!"

Kate holds up another photo. "How about this man, Rocco Jones? He used to work at the gallery."

J shakes his head. "Guys, look. I'm really, I'm really sorry. I just don't know him."

Esposito glares at Rocco across the table in the box and starts a recording playing on a laptop. "After all I did for you, Fink! I wasn't just your assistant, Man. I broke the law for you, and you think you can just fire me! I should kill you, Man, just pop you in the back and you're dead."

"So you finally got the courage to do it, huh Rocco?" Esposito accuses.

"Dude, come on," Rocco pleads. "I was just blowing off steam."

"You said you broke the law for him. How?" Esposito demands.

Rocco presses his lips into a hard line and stares back sullenly.

"Fine," Esposito responds. "There's this ADA, Gonzalez. She just loves hanging guys like you out to dry. Have a nice trial."

Sweat beads on Rocco's forehead. "What? What the hell are you talking about?"

"You threatened a guy. He turns up dead. Do the math," Esposito counters.

"I didn't kill Fink," Rocco claims. "I was talking about forgeries. Fink paid me to do forgeries of high-end paintings for him. I was struggling, Man. I needed the dough."

"What did Fink do with the copies?"

"Sold them. Passed them along to the buyer as the real thing."

Esposito pushes up from his seat. "Who did he sell to?"

"No one you can get your hands on," Rocco warns.

"Bahir Harun," Esposito announces to the group gathered at the murder board. "He's an attaché at the Bahrain Consulate."

"That explains the Bahrain cell phone number," Castle notes.

"Which makes him the one who talked to Fink an hour before he was shot," Kate realizes. "Maybe he found out Fink was selling fakes and decided to get even."

"Doesn't matter," Esposito declares grimly. "The guy has complete diplomatic immunity."

Kate raps her fingers against the board. "Great!"

"So I checked the photo IDs of all Fink's artists and clients. J wasn't one of them," Ryan reports.

"Then what was he doing at the gallery?" Castle wonders.

Ryan shrugs. "No clue from Holloway. He called from the hospital. Aside from a minor head bump, J's got a clean bill of health – other than the memory loss."

"Let's pick up J and take him back to the crime scene," Kate suggests. "See if that sparks his memory. And we should have Fink's new assistant Darius meet us there with every file on Bahir Narun."

J gazes around the gallery. "You're sure I was here?"

"The gun that fired the bullet into your book was here," Castle says. "You couldn't have been too far away from it."

"Take your time," Ryan urges. "Holloway said you shouldn't stress out."

"How am I not supposed to stress out?" J demands. "I was involved somehow in a murder and I can't remember anything about it. Or maybe this is supposed to be where I get a headache and flashes of things start coming together?"

"That sounds like something out of a badly scripted movie – or about 50 of them," Castle says. "Do you remember liking movies? How do you feel about popcorn?"

"I think the smell makes me hungry," J responds.

"Probably one of those responses experienced over and over since childhood, building one of those neural pathways Holloway's so fond of," Castle remarks. "But it doesn't narrow things down much. Liking Jujubes would make for a much shallower pool."

"What are Jujubes?" J asks.

"Guaranteed income for pediatric dentists," Castle replies. "But how about the paintings? Do you feel like you like art?"

J scans the mountings on the wall. "Maybe some of it."

"Something special about any of these?" Kate asks.

"Not that I can remember. But it's not as if that means much," J adds.

Esposito moves off to a corner from where Darius Langley is observing J. "Weird how someone can just lose their mind like that," the young artist remarks.

"Are you sure you don't recognize him?" Esposito presses.

"I don't think so. But I've only been here a few months." Darius hands Esposito a thick file. "Anyway, here's everything we have on Mr. Harun. It's all his purchases going back three years. I still can't believe Fink was trafficking in forgeries."

As Esposito spreads out the contents of the Harun file on the conference table Castle gazes at the attached photographs. "Wow! That's dozens of paintings."

"Yeah, and according to Rocco, Fink's old assistant, any or all of these could have been forgeries," Esposito says.

Castle points at a photo. "This is a Jules Matterson, worth $100,000 easy."

"Yeah, but you only pay Rocco a grand to knock it off," Kate says.

"Fink could have ripped Haran off for millions," Esposito asserts. "Someone took me for that much, I could see putting a bullet into his back."

"Well, that explains why Harun would go after Fink, but what about J?" Castle questions.

"We need to talk to Harun," Kate declares.

"Diplomatic immunity," Esposito reminds her.

"I'll get Montgomery to put in an interview request," she responds.

"Beckett, I hate diplomatic immunity as much as you do," Montgomery says, sniffing appreciatively at the mug of freshly brewed coffee that Castle handed him. "But as far as you're concerned, forget the guy. I put in the request. Now it's in the State Department's hands. Period."

"Fine, but Sir, what about the other victim?" Kate asks.

"You mean the guy with amnesia?" Montgomery takes a sip of his coffee. "What about him?"

"He has nowhere to go tonight," Kate replies.

"So turn him over to Social Services," Montgomery advises. "State's problem, not ours."

"I know, Sir, but he'd probably end up in a homeless shelter – if they can even find a bed for him. He's a person of interest and a potential witness. I would hate to lose him to the system."

Montgomery sighs. "OK, but my couch is off-limits."

"Beckett, other than Montgomery's couch, there's no place to sleep around here except the holding cells," Castle points out as they walk back to Kate's desk. "And being in one of those overnight would just traumatize J further."

"I know, Babe, but what are we supposed to do?"

"We could take him back to the loft for the night. Mother will be sleeping over at her newly rekindled flame's place and Alexis will just want to help. J and I are about the same height. I can lend him some clothes and put him in the guest room for the night. Then we can take him back to the 12th in the morning."

"Castle, it's going to be pretty obvious to him that we're sleeping together. The boys don't even know that. Neither does Montgomery. It could raise issues about NYPD regs. We aren't supposed to have romantic relationships with cops we work with."

"As you have pointed out many times, I'm not a cop. Technically I don't even work for the NYPD as a civilian. Working for means getting paid and Montgomery would never try to eke a dime out of his budget for that. So, if J figures it out, so what? And right now I think he's got enough of his own problems to think about without worrying about anyone else. But if it will make you feel better, you're staying over to keep him under police surveillance. You said he's a person of interest. Don't cops generally keep an eye on persons of interest?"

"Yes, we do. All right, Babe. But let's not be too obvious, OK?"

"I will be the soul of discretion."