Shared Obsession Chapter 160

"OK, I ran every extra tox screen outside of standard protocol. They all came up negative. But," Lanie adds, "the secondary tox panel detected traces of tyramine, which is harmless but raised a red flag for me. So I ran some more tests. Bobby Mann was on phenelzine. That's a prescription drug for depression."

"So how would that figure into a murder?" Kate asks.

"Phenelzine is in a group of drugs called MAO inhibitors, which contraindicate consuming anything fermented. Wine, beer, certain kinds of cheeses, even the smallest amount can trigger a hypertensive crisis."

Castle squares his shoulders in triumph. "Oh, like an almost undetectable poison that stops the heart."

"Which doesn't mean he was murdered," Kate points out. "He could have accidentally eaten or drunk something he shouldn't have."

Lanie nods. "That's what I thought. So I ran the contents of his intestines. In the hours prior to his death, he ingested three substances – something sugary like candy…."

"Or chewing gum," Castle interjects.

"There you go," Lanie acknowledges. "Also, cranberry juice and balsamic vinegar."

"Balsamic vinegar is fermented," Castle notes.

"And there was no trace of anything you'd find balsamic on," Lanie continues. "No chicken, no pasta, just the cranberry juice."

"Cranberry juice could have masked the taste and color of the balsamic," Castle realizes.

"So you're saying that somebody knew about Bobby's condition, and slipped balsamic vinegar into his cranberry juice knowing it would kill him?" Kate questions.

"This was no accident. Bobby Mann was murdered," Lanie declares.

Castle gazes toward the autopsy table. "Well, Bobby, you were right."

As Kate starts to draw her timeline, Castle views the almost empty murder board. "No crime scene, no clear place to start an investigation, the conundrum of a poisoning."

"Especially a poisoning without a poison," Kate says. "Whoever did this was very smart. They chose a murder weapon that's probably in half the kitchens in the city."

Castle jams his thumbs into his pockets. "But we're smart too."

Esposito finishes up a call. "Thanks. That was Lanie. Based on possible rates of fatal MAO interactions she was able to narrow the window of poisoning to between 1:30 and 4:30 in the morning."

Beckett marks out the times. "Then this is our kill zone, 1:30 to 4:30. What else?"

"Well, the lab said there was no trace of balsamic or cranberry juice on the gum from Mann's pocket," Esposito reports. "So he must have chewed it before he was poisoned."

"And we know he left the studio at 12:45," Castle adds.

"Which means he wasn't poisoned there," Esposito puts in.

"And we know from his home security records that he never made it there," Kate says.

"Which makes sense since he died on the sidewalk. But what was he doing walking at that hour of the morning?" Castle wonders. "I mean, I can understand walking a dog in the wee hours. People can get it done before they have to get ready for work, and muggers are usually loathe to attack someone with a faithful pooch to protect them. But Bobby had finished work and would have been vulnerable out there. Why wasn't he driving? He had a famous love for fancy cars. Not like Leno, but still."

"According to the DMV, he had a Bugatti," Ryan says. "But I checked, the vehicle locator isn't sending a signal."

"It's probably in an underground garage," Esposito figures. "That could block it."

Kate smacks down her marker. "Which means it could be anywhere. All right, check his cell phone. See if he made any calls last night. Then go to his brownstone. Castle and I will head to the studio and see what we can dig up there. And, oh guys…."

"Yeah?" Esposito queries.

"No talk of murder. The longer we can keep this away from the press, the better off we'll be."

"I'm sorry," a harried Janine Marks says, "I don't know where Bobby went after the show last night. What is this about anyway? I thought Bobby died of a heart attack."

"We're just tying up loose ends for the coroner," Kate lies smoothly.

Marks looks skeptically at Castle. "And you tag along for this? Wouldn't a heart attack be pretty boring in a mystery novel?"

"The smallest detail of a mundane investigation can touch off an inspiration," Castle explains. "There was a case that…."

"I'm sorry, I don't have time for a story, Mr. Castle. I'm trying to put together a memorial broadcast and I have to find people with nice things to say about Bobby."

"Is that so hard?" Castle asks.

"The man traded up wives faster than most men trade up cars. That didn't spark a lot of warm feelings. So if you want something specific, can you get to the point?"

"How was Mr. Mann acting recently?" Kate asks. "Did you notice anything unusual?"

"No, he was great. Except, um yesterday."

"What happened yesterday?" Kate questions.

"I don't know. Usually, he met with the writers when he came in. But yesterday he spent the morning locked up in his office alone. Then the rest of the day he was agitated and acting weird."

"Weird how?" Kate probes.

"Paranoid. At one point he asked me if I'd heard anything. When I asked him about what, he just shrugged it off."

"Were you aware he was on a powerful antidepressant?" Kate asks.

"Yeah. I think anyone who worked closely with him was. I mean he tried to be quiet about it, but when he went on the pills he had to quit drinking. People wondered why."

"So word got around," Castle gathers.

"You don't think that's what killed him, do you? Janine asks. "Something he ate or drank? He was very careful. He had strict rules about what anyone could bring into his office or his dressing room – even the green room. Some celebrities refused bookings on the show if they couldn't have their – whatever crap they wanted. So I don't see how…."

"We just have to check out every possibility," Kate says.

"If the tabloids got a hold of something…," Castle puts in.

Janine slaps a hand to her forehead. "Tell me about it! No, don't. I've only got a few hours to get everything put together. But you should talk to Hank. He went through four producers with Bobby before me. If there's anyone who would have known what was going on with Bobby, he would. So if there's nothing else…."

"Just tying things up," Kate assures her. "Go ahead."

Kate and Castle find Hank McPhee wandering around the stage like a lost puppy. "I keep looking over at that curtain, waiting for him to walk through as if this was all one big publicity stunt," Hank confides.

"The two of you were close, right?" Castle inquires.

Hank gestures at the cameras. "Since before all this. Since we were kids together back in 'Nam."

"So he would have told you if there was anything wrong? Castle asks.

"Like what?" Hank questions.

"Like if he was concerned for his well-being?" Castle replies.

"Of course, he was concerned with his well-being. I was concerned about it too. He had heart disease. I-I thought he died of a heart attack."

"Just routine questioning, Mr. McPhee," Kate gently tells the older man. "Some people said he seemed a little agitated recently."

"Come to think of it," Hank offers, "he was a little preoccupied. I asked him about it after the show last night but he said he was fine."

A middle-aged black man mounts the stage. "Hank, I am so sorry. Nightmares really happen."

"Yeah," Hank glances toward Kate and Castle. "You know Mickey, host of Late Talk, right after our show?"

"Yes, of course. I'm a big fan," Castle replies. "I love your 'booty roulette' gag. I'm Rick."

"Castle. Ah. Saw you on the show last night," Mickey says.

Kate takes a step forward. "I'm Detective Kate Beckett."

"Nice to meet you."

"So do either of you know where Mr. Mann went after last night's show?" Kate queries.

"No clue," Mickey says.

"He said something about going to see his ex-wife," Hank recalls.

"Did he say which one?" Castle asks.

"Uh-uh."

"I wonder how many ex-wives Bobby Mann has," Kate says as she and Castle leave the stage.

"My adoration for my offspring notwithstanding, even one can be one too many," Castle declares. His fingers brush Kate's cheek. "It takes some of us way too long to meet the right woman."