Shared Obsession Chapter 139
"This won't be like a trial in regular court, lead prosecutor Andrew Viessman advises. I'll be asking the questions and there may be some from the grand jury as well. There won't be any defense counsel, so you won't have to worry about being torn apart on cross-examination. Just answer my questions honestly and as directly as you can. All right?"
"Got it," Kate confirms.
"Copy that," Castle agrees.
"Now I'll be calling you separately," Andrew continues. "How long your testimony will take will depend on whether the grand jury wants you to fill in any holes in the narrative. But you may be in for a long day. Get some rest tonight, and I'll call you and let you know when to come in tomorrow. And a warning, the food in the restaurants close to this building is overpriced and overhyped."
"Where do you like to eat?" Castle asks.
Andrew reddens slightly. "Reba's Diner. The place looks like a hole in the wall, but the cholent – that's pot roast – is unbelievable. Melts in your mouth."
"We'll keep that in mind," Castle says.
Eyes closed, Kate savors the bite on her tongue. "Viessman wasn't kidding. This is incredible."
"Let's hope he is as good in front of the grand jury as he is in recommending eateries," Castle says. "We're at least a month early for cherry blossoms, but is there anything else you'd like to see before we go back to the hotel?"
"The Lincoln Memorial," Kate suggests. "I like to remember there was someone who truly wanted to bind up the nation's wounds instead of making them deeper."
"A worthy thought. The Lincoln Memorial it will be."
The man regards the milling crowds in Grand Central Station before returning to scope out the phone booths. There aren't many of those anymore. They're almost a relic to be treasured and admired. Now, almost everyone carries a phone in a pocket or purse. But with that, freedom is an illusion. The quick and convenient communication locates and tags the sender, making "Big Brother" – or sister – ever more efficient. Not too efficient for him, however. She is an impressive opponent to be sure, but in the end, he will beat her. Nikki Heat will be overcome by the brilliance of his genius. He feels the bulge growing in his crotch. The battle will be glorious.
Castle arranges for an early breakfast to be delivered to the VIP suite. Beckett had been restless all night and eager to get on with business, even before the first rays of sunlight attempted to sneak around the thick drapes.
Kate breaks a croissant in half and just stares at the pieces.
"Trying to decide between butter – and I think this stuff is real – and these excellent strawberry preserves?" Castle inquires.
"No. Yes. Just thinking. "We're really getting close to the end of this thing, aren't we?"
Castle puts down the ceramic cup holding coffee almost as good as he could make. "I hope so. What do you think?"
"I don't know. We have no idea how many witnesses there are. And if the grand jury decides to indict…."
"How could they not indict?" Castle questions.
"Bracken's managed to evade justice for decades. Anything is possible. But if it does, we don't know how long it will take to generate a report or how soon the case will go to trial. We could still be looking at years."
Castle reaches across the table for Kate's hand. "I got the impression that the DOJ is fast-tracking this. As carefully as Viessman was parsing his words, he seemed to imply that much. And we both got calls directly from the Special Prosecutor. He's got offices full of staff, including Viessman. So how often do you think he makes his own calls to witnesses?"
"Not very," she admits. "But…."
Castle breaks off a small piece of croissant, covers it in strawberry preserves, and brings it toward Kate's mouth. "Here comes the plane! Open the hangar!" Unable to avoid a giggle, Kate's lips part. "Much better. Let's finish up this ridiculously marked-up meal and go knock 'em dead."
Ryan holds up the Entertainment Section of The Ledger. "Hey Bro! Did you see this? They're making Heat Wave into a movie."
Esposito grabs for the paper. "Let me look at that. Wow, casting to begin soon. I'm thinking Javier Bardem to play me."
"There is no you, or me," Ryan points out. "There's just Ochoa and Raley."
"Which Castle based on us. I mean, without us, he wouldn't even have a story," Esposito insists. "We do all the legwork around here."
"But it's Beckett's legs Castle writes about, even if he puts them on Nikki Heat. Still, we are a big part of his inspiration. What would you think about James McAvoy for Raley?"
Esposito shrugs. "Not bad, but Javier Bardem will dominate the screen."
The man draws his fingertip down the article in The Ledger. So they think Nikki Heat is going to the big screen. After he's finished, they'll have to rewrite the screenplay or replace it with a different movie, based on his story. He wonders who could play him. Offhand he can't think of anyone whose eyes would reflect that kind of intellect. But a few actors have passed the tests for Mensa and Prometheus. That guy who killed Spiderman's uncle is an M. And there may be someone a bit more charismatic. When the time comes, he can push for an appropriate choice.
Kate settles into her seat for the short trip back to NY. "We should be getting home in time for me to see what Alexis has been up to in my absence," Castle says.
"Isn't Martha keeping an eye on her?" Kate inquires.
"Actually, Alexis is keeping an eye on Mother. I just have to determine how successfully. You haven't said much about your testimony. How did it go?"
"As Viessman said, it was pretty straightforward. I did get some questions from the jurors about what my mother was working on when she was murdered. I wasn't really expecting those. But I told them as much as I know. How about yours?"
"Not as complicated, I guess. But Viessman asked me what Celia was working on, himself. I guess he wants the grand jury to have a very clear picture that Bracken was behind taking out the good ones. And there weren't many better than Celia – and your mother, of course."
"No there weren't," Kate agrees, "I just hope that will drive the jurors toward an indictment."
"They were heroes, Beckett," Castle says. "And I can tell you as a writer, that aside from the murder of a child, nothing upsets a reader more than the death of a hero. I'm hoping grand juries are the same."
"Yeah, me too."
Kate is barely at her desk in the precinct the next morning when her landline rings. "Beckett."
"Yes, I'd like to report a murder," a male voice says.
"Do you have an address?" Kate asks.
Kate can almost hear the smirk in the caller's tone. "Where is the fun in that?"
She signals Ryan and Esposito to trace the call. "OK, who is this?"
"Oh, a fan," the man answers.
"Tell me more about this murder," Kate urges.
Ryan mouths "Tracing."
"Well, I did it," the man declares. "That's all you need to know."
"Got it!" Ryan exclaims as Kate hears a click.
"Hello," she says, not really expecting an answer.
"Forty-second and Lex," Ryan reports.
"That's Grand Central Station," Castle realizes.
Kate nods. "Yeah, let's go."