Shared Obsession Chapter 168

Blaming Robbery and Demming isn't helping us to find Finch's killer, Castle," Kate points out. "I'd like Cana for it, but we knew he had an alibi even before he came in."

Castle groans. "Of course he does. How about the CSU report on the car?"

"Since it's a homicide, it's coming here, not downstairs. I should be getting it any minute," Kate says.

"Until it shows up, I wish you'd tell me how you met Demming. Did you work together or something?" Castle queries.

"You mean on a case? No. Like Espo said, Demming's from the 54th."

"Then how?"

"I was working out in the gym."

"Kicking the hell out of the heavy bag, alias Bracken?"

"Something like that. Anyway, Demming was there and offered to hold the bag for me."

"As a come on? I saw how he looked at you."

"Yeah, but I did need a more stable target."

"Which I hope you kept kicking the hell out of."

Kate breaks a smile. "Yeah."

"That's the formidable female I know and love. So maybe…."

An alert sounds on Kate's phone. "That's the email from CSU. I'll bring it up on my computer."

Forgoing his usual seat near Kate's desk, Castle stands behind her looking over her shoulder. "Damn! Kate exclaims. "The car was wiped down. Other than Finch and his wife, we have no usable prints."

"How about on Finch's eyelids?" Castle asks.

"Lanie has to fume the body for that and it takes time. We'll probably hear later."

"I don't see anything about the blood in the car. If Finch fought back, maybe some of it's from whoever attacked him."

"Probably not. Lanie didn't find any defensive wounds or tissue under Finch's fingernails. Maybe he'd been out of the game too long and his killer torturer took him by surprise. And we still don't have an ID on that metal symbol we found, either."

"Beckett, other than what we heard from Esposito and Demming, the latter not sharing much, we don't know anything about Victor Racine. If what was stolen did belong to him, wouldn't some Racine research be in order? If there was a task force after him there should be voluminous files somewhere," Castle assumes.

"Yes, there should be," Kate agrees, typing in a search. "What the f***?"

"Restricted by federal authority," Castle reads. "He has or had a friend in DC. But we should at least be able to find a profile of this guy somewhere. Mobsters make very popular subjects for the country's crime-story-loving public."

Kate runs a Google search. "You're right, Castle. I've got millions of hits."

"But they all look fairly recent," Castle observes. "They'd have to be from digitized source material, and probably a lot of click-bait you'd have to slog through. I may be able to do better with Lexis-Nexis on my machine at home."

"Then go check!"

"Is that an order or permission?"

"An enthusiastic request."

"On my way."

On a stomach-churning hunch, Castle checks out articles on Racine dating back to Bracken's reign as New York City's DA. "A Teflon Don," he mutters, "noting reports of truncated investigations and dropped charges. "No doubt one of Bracken's better pocket stuffers. The NYPD doesn't just dissolve organized crime units because of IA suspicions about one cop. There had to have been more to it than that. I wonder who else's pockets he stuffed?" He scans quickly through more articles but doesn't find much except the usual mob stories. As far as he can tell, none of them have a clue as to what was in the safety deposit box that would have cost Finch his life. And after a while, the press seemed to have lost interest in Racine and stopped digging. Castle puts his computer to sleep and pushes out of his chair. It's time to start the digging again. And Kate Beckett is just the excavator to unearth Racine's dirty little secrets.

Castle exits the elevator at the 12th and bounces up to Kate's desk. "Ready to go see Racine?"

"Yeah. But Montgomery met with Demming's lieutenant from downstairs. We have to take Demming."

Castle smacks his palm against the surface of Kate's desk. "Why?"

"Because if whatever was taken from the bank did belong to Racine, he's tied to a robbery."

"Is Demming supposed to take the lead?" Castle asks in disgust.

"Not if I can help it," Kate declares.

Victor Racine's villa is impressive even by New York City standards. When Castle first spies him, the mob boss is hitting balls on an indoor driving range. Racine's oily smile is appreciative as he takes in Kate's willowy form. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" With an impressive swing for a man well above his fighting weight, Racine's club strikes a ball.

"A safety deposit box was broken into at Manhattan Mutual the other night, Mr. Racine. It was registered to an, um, associate of yours, Fred Cana," Kate explains. "He claims it contained his stamp collection."

"You don't say," Racine replies. "What's the world coming to? Mr. Cana's stamp collection, huh? Well, I've never known Mr. Cana to lie." Racine sends off another ball. "To me."

"Well, we believe that the box may have held something more valuable – maybe something of yours," Kate says.

"Oh really? And why is that?" Racine inquires mildly.

"Because one of the guys involved in the robbery was found murdered in a parking garage last night," Kate responds, her reply voiced more like a weather report than a description of a fatal crime.

"Well, actually," Castle puts in, still in a casual tone, Mr. Finch was tortured before he was killed. Now why would someone do that if all he stole was stamps?"

Racine shrugs. "Hmm."

"Where were you last night?" Kate asks more forcefully.

"Home." Racine hits another ball. "And I have around-the-clock bodyguards who can attest to my whereabouts. But you don't think I killed Finch, do you? You assume I had somebody do it for me and you're just here to," he touches the tip of his club softly to Castle's head, "count coup, aren't you?"

"Sorry, what was that?" Demming asks.

"The plains Indians considered it an act of bravery to get close enough to an enemy to touch their heads with a coup stick," Castle explains.

Racine nods. "Very good, Mr. Castle. I have always found your books well-researched. Too bad your proclivities haven't rubbed off on the NYPD. This item, or items, that were in the safety deposit box, if they're so valuable, why aren't you out chasing down Mr. Finch's associate in the endeavor? Your job, I believe, Detective Demming? After all, you know what the old saying is, 'no honor among thieves.'" He hits another ball.

Demming grins as Kate leads the way out of Racine's compound. "I have to admit that was well played, Detective."

"Of course it was," Castle says. "She got Racine to admit that Finch had a partner."

"And Racine hasn't found him yet," Kate adds. "He wants us to do his work for him."

"After which he'll probably try to grab the guy and torture the location of the loot out of him before he kills him," Castle figures.

"Which means we'll have to keep a step ahead and when we do find Finch's partner, keep him out of range of Racine's guys," Kate responds.

"I'm going to see if my people have come up with anything more about Finch's possible partners," Demming says, hitting a fob to unlock his unit. "There may be something in his financials."

Castle climbs into Kate's passenger seat. "Racine obviously knew we were coming and why. He had eyes and ears in the department going back to Bracken's days. He obviously still does. When we find Finch's partner, we'll have to play it very close to the vest. That may include finding a way to keep Demming out of it."

"Yeah, Castle, I know. But we have to find the guy first."

Kate's cell phone gives out the bass organ sounds identifying a call from Lanie. "Hey, what have you got?"

"Prints from Finch's eyelids. But you're not going to like who put them there."