Shared Obsession Chapter 187
From across the table in Interrogation, Demming fixes his suspect with a determined stare. "Two million dollars in books goes missing from a dead man's home and most of them are found in your possession, Canby."
"You can see how that's a problem, can't you Lukas?" Castle inserts.
"You want to explain what happened?" Kate offers.
"Sure," Lukas replies, "but you'll never believe me."
"Try us," Demming presses.
"I bought 'em from some guy in the park."
"In the park?" Demming scoffs.
"Near the 76th Street entrance," Lukas continues. "This homeless guy had 'em laid out on a blanket. He didn't have a clue what they were worth. I gave him a hundred bucks for the whole lot. Man, I was feeling lucky that day."
"Assuming, as unlikely as it sounds, that your story is true, do you get your jollies by ripping off the helpless and the clueless?" Castle asks.
"A man's gotta make a living," Canby retorts. "I didn't steal those books and I certainly didn't kill anybody."
"You just followed a leprechaun to his pot of gold," Demming sneers.
"The murderer had to be the homeless guy," Canby insists. "How else would he get the books?"
"Really? He broke into a townhouse to steal $2 million worth of books just to sell them to you for $100?" Kate questions.
"Doesn't add up, Pal," Demming insists.
"Where were you Sunday night?" Kate asks.
"Home, alone," Canby declares.
"Well, you won't have to worry about being alone in your cell," Demming says. "Rikers is overcrowded right now."
Demming gets up to leave and Kate and Castle follow. "Not much of a confession," Castle says.
"Well, we can hold him for possession of stolen goods," Kate figures. "He copped to that. Let's have CSU take samples from wherever Lukas operates from, and see if they match anything from Wilder's place."
"Yeah," Demming agrees. "Might be something that puts him at the crime scene."
"In the meantime," Kate goes on, "we should check on his story about the homeless man. Castle, it's a nice day for a walk in the park."
"Yes, it is. And if I'm not mistaken, a hotdog vendor hangs out near the entrance in question. Quick lunch?"
"Sounds good," Kate agrees.
Castle adjusts his napkin to keep the sauerkraut on his hotdog from dripping on his shirt. "Beckett, look at that guy panhandling over there. He looks suspiciously like Canby's description of the guy he bought the books from. He even has stuff on a blanket. You think he'd like a hotdog?"
"From the looks of him, he'd like anything edible," Kate replies.
Castle turns back to the vendor. "One more, no, make it two."
Castle strolls over to the blanket to offer the improvised lunch. "Hey, Buddy, thought you might like these."
The panhandler wrinkles his nose. "I'm a vegan, and veggies cost." He waves towards the blanket. "See anything you like? I can make you a good deal."
"Have any books?" Kate asks.
"Some. I had more but I sold 'em to a guy – gave me a hundred bucks."
Castle hands Kate his hotdogs and crouches to examine the blanket's contents. "Hmm, a Patterson first edition. The only one getting rich off this is Patterson. But ooh, this is a lovely collection of Poe stories. Not a first edition, not really a collectible but it still has the stimulating aura of mystery and the macabre. How much?"
"Ten bucks?" the seller asks hopefully.
"That will hardly buy you a veggie burger these days," Castle says. "How about twenty?"
"Sold," the man exclaims.
"You said you had more books. Where did you get them?" Kate asks.
"I found them in the trash. I check for cans and bottles that people should be recycling. Some folks have no regard for the environment."
"When did you find them?" Kate asks.
"Early Monday morning, maybe around four. I look before the sanitation trucks come and everything ends up in a landfill."
"Where were they?"
The bookseller waves toward Fifth Ave. "I saw a guy dumping them in front of one of the apartment houses on 75th."
"How did you fill your time on Sunday night before going out to do your bit for the environment?" Castle asks.
"I was cleaning up at the soup kitchen over on Avenue of the Americas. They can only give me a couple of bucks, but I get any leftover vegetables. They had cabbage. A lot of people don't like it, but it's very nourishing."
"I'm sure it is," Kate says.
"Maybe we should go over and see if they need a donation," Castle suggests.
"Just don't try to give them any hotdogs," the vegan warns. "And you shouldn't eat them either. Those things will rot your liver."
"Good to know," Castle says. "Thanks."
"You think he did it?" Castle asks as he and Kate walk back toward Fifth Avenue.
"What I think doesn't matter. I'll have the park police keep an eye on him until we find out about his alibi, one way or another."
Mary Francis Conroy, despite her diminutive stature, has a commanding presence as she skeptically faces Kate and Castle. "I don't give out information on our clientele. Even if I know names, I'm not about to give them to you. We can't render the aid people need if they can't trust us."
Kate pulls out her phone and shows Mary Francis a photo she managed to snap of the 76th Street panhandler. "I don't need a name. All I need to know is if this man was cleaning up here Sunday night between ten and eleven."
"Why do you need to know?" Mary Francis demands.
"Because it's part of a murder investigation. A man is dead," Kate says.
Mary Francis gazes down at Kate's badge. "There weren't any murders in this neighborhood that night. I would have heard about it. So I'm assuming you're referring to a murder in another part of the city. Well, I can tell you right now, this man couldn't have committed one. He arrived at ten as the kitchen was closing down for the night and didn't leave until after midnight."
Castle pulls out his checkbook and quickly writes a check. He folds it and hands it to Mary Francis. "Buy more vegetables. The man likes cabbage."
"We should have our vegan environmentalist sit down with a sketch artist," Kate says. "The man he saw dumping those books is probably our killer."
"How good a look would he have gotten at four am?" Castle wonders. "But you know, the east side of the park in the seventies is a pretty pricey neighborhood. I'm betting some of the townhouses there have video surveillance, maybe with low light cameras."
"It's worth a try either way," Kate decides.
As she enters the bullpen, Kate notes the grins on Ryan and Esposito. "Did you guys get a lead on our mystery woman?"
"We just heard back from the phone company," Esposito announces. "One call came to the room rented by Scarlett O'Hara."
"And get this," Ryan jumps in. "It came from Wilder's company."
"So Wilder called his ladylove?" Castle inquires.
"No, the call came about the time Natasha Piper said she followed Wilder to the motel. So it couldn't have been from him."
"So maybe," Castle figures, "it wasn't from him, it was to him. The mystery woman calling to say she was running late?"
"Not as much of a mystery now," Ryan declares. "We know that whoever made the call did it from the third floor of Wilder's building."
"It's a big building," Kate says. "Even with limiting it to the third floor, that leaves us with a bunch of possibilities."
"We should be able to rule out the men since Scarlett was a woman," Ryan suggests.
"And most likely it was a woman fighting with Wilder at his place," Esposito adds.
"There's got to be a way we can trim the suspect list," Castle asserts.
"We could do a sound lineup," Esposito offers.
"A sound lineup?" Castle queries.
"Yeah. We bring back in that tree-hugger, Lance Newman, who overheard the argument Thursday night. We play him samples of the voices of women working on the third floor and see if he recognizes any of them."
"But Beckett," Castle objects, "the person the homeless man saw dump the books was a guy."
"As you said, Castle, it was dark. So we don't know who he saw. Until we know for sure, let's pursue both leads."
Esposito motions Ryan towards the elevator. "Let's start rounding up samples."