Confession Chapter 49

"Do you really think Ivan is sick with the flu?" Castle wonders as Kate drives along the border of the Harlem River toward Mott Haven.

"I don't know, Castle. If he did use the snake prop to kill Morgan, he may be long gone by now. Or he just might be waiting for things to calm down. We'll know when we get to his place." She turns into a side street, surveying the buildings offering some of the more affordable housing in the city. "This is the address that Elfson gave us."

Several members of what identifies itself as the building's branch of the neighborhood watch, carefully eye Kate and Castle as she displays her badge. "Do you know if Ivan Girosol is upstairs?" she inquires.

"Haven't seen him in a few days," a solidly built Hispanic man replies.

"I knocked on his door to make sure he's all right," a sixty-ish woman adds. "He answered me, said he was fine. He sounded a little hoarse maybe, but OK. Has he done something wrong?"

"We don't want any trouble in this building," the white-haired man adds.

"Right now, I just need to ask him a few questions," Kate replies.

"Keep your distance," the woman counsels. "You don't want to catch anything."

Kate nods. "Thanks. We'll keep that in mind."

"He could really have the flu, Castle," Kate says as they take the elevator up to Ivan's floor.

"Murderers get the flu too, Beckett," Castle points out. "And our friend downstairs has a point. We should keep our distance – unless you have to cuff him or something."

Kate steps out of the elevator and starts down a hallway, with Castle at her elbow. She raps loudly on Ivan's door. After a moment, she hears shuffling inside. A man peers out through the limited gap allowed by a floor-mounted lock rod. He stares appreciatively at Kate and guardedly at Castle. "What do you want?"

Kate displays her badge. "Mr. Girosol?"

"Yes."

"I'm Detective Kate Beckett. This is Mr. Castle. We need to ask you some questions about a case we're investigating. May we come in?"

"The place is kind of a mess," Ivan protests. "I've been sick and haven't been able to clean up. There are tissues all over the place."

Castle takes a step backward. "Detective, can't we talk to him from out here?"

"All right," Kate allows. "Mr. Girosol, I understand that you work at Proppa Props. Is that correct?"

"Yes, I work there. What about it?"

"We're interested in a particular prop, a diamondback rattler. It's missing, and according to your boss, there's no record of where it went. He thought the RFID might have been disabled somehow. Would you know anything about that?"

Kate winces as Ivan shudders with a racking cough. "I can't tell you anything about that," he gasps and closes the door.

"He took it," Castle asserts. "He took it and used it to murder Morgan."

"Even if that's true, Castle, we don't have enough to bring Ivan in. If we had the snake, Lanie could look for a match to the pattern on Morgan's neck. It might even have some of her DNA on it. But we don't."

"Can't you get a warrant to search this apartment?" Castle asks.

"If Ivan is the killer, he could have thrown the snake in the Harlem River by now. And we don't even have a motive. If Ivan is Morgan's son, why would he kill her?"

"Beckett, while we're trying to figure that out, he could take off."

"I'll put a surveillance unit on this building to make sure he doesn't. But the shape he's in, I don't think he's going anywhere."

"Unless he's faking."

"If he leaves, the unit will spot him either way. By now, Lanie's had Dr. Griswold come in to examine Morgan's body. Maybe he found something that will help."

"A miraculous youthening formula," Castle muses after Lanie recounts her consultation with Griswold.

"But it only worked on the outside, Castle," Lanie cautions. "If she hadn't been murdered, Morgan would have had a relatively normal lifespan."

"Still, some women will do anything for beauty." Castle sighs. "I've got two ex-wives' worth of bills to prove it."

"Vanity isn't limited to women, Castle," Lanie points out. "How much did you pay for that haircut?"

Castle clears his throat. "I take the Fifth."

"But Castle still has a point," Kate says. "Gore told us that Morgan was an herbalist. If she did manage to cook up a formula like that from what she grew on the mansion's grounds, it could have been worth a fortune. That would be a stronger motive than we get for a lot of murders."

"But there was a lot more to it than money. The murderer must have known about Morgan's ophidiophobia. Using a snake, even a fake one, as a murder weapon was personal," Castle insists. "And there aren't many relationships more personal than a mother and a son."

"We need to know more about the Gorlois family," Kate says, "And not from the 5th Century."

"We know where there is a magnificent library," Castle reminds her, "the most likely spot to search out the clues we seek. And if Gore is out of the hospital, he may be able to point us in the right direction."

"Castle, Gore was the one who found the body. Theoretically, that puts him on our suspect list," Kate says.

"You're right," Castle considers. "And given what we now know about Morgan's age, she and Gore were more or less contemporaries. Perhaps he wasn't just her librarian. Best to leave him out of it as much as possible."

Kate presses two fingers against her bottom lip. "I just hope he kept good records."

Castle starts toward the door. "I've never known a librarian who didn't."

Joe Martin tries his best to gather information about Elizabeth Weston's covert meeting. Unfortunately, she insists on making her own arrangements and will tell him nothing more than she'll be out of the building with an indeterminate return. He keeps wondering if she's on to him, but can't see how she would be. And if she was, wouldn't she have had him arrested? He figures that after what happened at the 33 Thomas building, she doesn't trust anyone. He shouldn't be around the SDNY much longer anyway.

Once Simmons and Maddox spill everything they know, the boss will be in deep sh*t. Joe isn't about to be in it with him. He just doesn't want to throw suspicion on himself by leaving too soon. He has a couple of weeks of vacation coming up. He just won't return. He's always loved unique animals. Madagascar has a lot of them – and no extradition treaty with the United States. The money the boss has been paying him to keep tabs on Weston is already in an offshore account where the Feds can't get it. And the cost of living in Madagascar is downright cheap compared to the U.S. He won't live like a king, but he won't have to share an apartment with two slobs, either. Soon he can put Weston and his real boss totally behind him. And whoever ends up in prison, well, that won't be Joe's problem. He'll be long gone. He can't help smiling just thinking about his future home.