Confession Chapter 46
"Castle, what are you doing with your phone?" Kate asks as she steers the car in the direction of 33 Thomas Street.
"I was looking for architectural details of the building. The place was built to withstand a nuclear attack. There are actually three basement levels, that at least at one point, were stocked with enough food for 1,500 people. However, the point wasn't to save human lives, it was to safeguard computers that were part of the crucial infrastructure. But it went up in the seventies when no one could have visualized a modern server farm and keeping backups in the cloud."
"If the place can survive a nuclear attack, that should give you a feeling of security."
"An attack, but not a direct hit. And again, it wasn't really meant to protect people. But something else caught my attention. There are a bunch of posts about smelling gas in the area – almost too many, like they're from bots or something."
"Any response from the gas company?"
"Yeah. According to their Twitter post, they looked into the reports. They sent out a team with chemical sniffers and found no evidence of a leak."
Kate sighs. "Then we shouldn't have anything to worry about."
"I don't know, Kate. Why would anyone go to the trouble of putting out a flood of posts like that if there wasn't an actual leak? It's almost as if they were trying to convince people there was."
"Castle, trolls are always after something or someone. And enough people hate Con Ed to make it a popular target."
"That's true. But Beckett, the timing is suspicious. And hitting the gas lines could be the unexpected attack from below. Even if the FBI is guarding entrances from the basement levels against gunmen, a big enough explosion under the street on the outside could do a lot more damage. Can you find out if anyone's checked the gas lines for an incursion?"
"What? You want me to call Weston and ask her to delay everything while the FBI climbs down the nearest manhole?"
"That would work."
"Castle, if she agrees, and you're wrong, we'll look like idiots. She could even charge us with obstructing an investigation."
"And if you don't and I'm right, there may not be enough of us left to charge with anything."
Kate drums her fingertips against the steering wheel before pulling over. "All right, Babe. I'll call her."
Special Agent in Charge Andrew Marks emerges on Trimble Place looking grim. As far as he was concerned, the U.S. Attorney had become too big for her britches – or whatever women call them. The last-minute check of the gas lines was absolutely out of left field, wasting time and money and totally screwing up his carefully structured schedule. Or so he thought – until his partner spotted the first device attached to a gas line.
The NYPD's bomb disposal unit is closer than any team the bureau has. They're probably already on the way. But he'll have to get everyone out of a potential blast radius and he doesn't have nearly enough people for that kind of an operation. So the locals will have to help with that as well. He's going to look like an ass for not considering a potential mode of attack. But given the covert nature of the operation, his embarrassment won't be public. At least he hopes not.
Gates fixes her gaze on Kate and Castle as they stand in her office. "So, Detective Beckett, the FBI is being tightfisted about sharing the details of what took place at 33 Thomas Street, but according to my sister, you really pulled one out."
"Castle was the one who figured out what was going on," Kate admits, "I just made the phone call."
"You realized there was a valid threat and acted on it," Gates insists. "That's good police work. And am I to assume that the SDNY got what it needed?"
"It took a few extra hours, but yes. It could have taken a lot longer," Kate replies, "but the BDU was really fast. As it turned out, the rest of our people didn't have nearly as big a job as they could have."
"Still, from what I picked up, the FBI grabbed the bombs to take to its lab for analysis," Castle says. "If they get something they can use to track down whoever planted them, they'll grab all the glory they can – and hope the press doesn't twig that they allowed the explosives to go undetected in the first place. But they shouldn't pin their hopes on that. The Ledger's resident crusading reporter had a story in this morning's edition posing some very embarrassing questions. Still, whatever happens with the FBI, the NYPD should come out smelling like a rose."
"Glad to hear it, Mr. Castle." Gates taps her reading glasses against her palm. "So now, Beckett, are you ready to get back to doing your real job?"
"I'll probably have to testify when the SDNY brings its case to the grand jury and to court. Castle may too. But we're ready to go for now."
"Good," Gates declares, "because I have a case for you. We got the call during the time our people were dealing with the situation at 33 Thomas, but the uniforms secured the scene. They're still guarding it. CSU was out there and documented everything. And the M.E. already has the body in the morgue. I need you to pick up the reins from here."
"Captain, why didn't you just assign another detective?" Castle asks.
"Honestly, Mr. Castle, with Detective Beckett unavailable, I didn't have anyone senior enough to handle it. The case has some interesting elements."
"Who's the M.E.?" Kate asks.
"Dr. Parish."
Castle flicks Beckett a sideways glance. "At least we got lucky about that."
"Come on, Castle," Kate says, "Let's get the CSU file and examine the crime scene. Then we can go see Lanie."
"Right behind you."
Castle gazes around the huge library in a Lower Manhattan mansion. "How did I not know this was here? It's like something out of Beauty and the Beast."
Consulting a crime scene photograph, Kate points toward a spot on the Brazilian rosewood flooring. "That's where the body was."
Castle crouches to examine the area. "No signs of blood. Suffocation or poison, perhaps?"
"Lanie should have her prelim done by now. She should be able to tell us."
"I wonder what the motive was," Castle muses. "This room is full of treasures, and not just the books. The furniture would easily garner high numbers at auction. Alexis is a lot better with art than I am, but the paintings and sculptures look valuable too. If a thief broke in, I don't know what they would have taken."
"According to the CSU report and the one from the officer who secured the scene, there weren't any signs of a break-in," Kate notes.
"So who found the body? Some faithful retainer?"
"Pretty close. A man the officer thought was upwards of eighty. He was in pretty bad shape. The EMTs took him to the hospital. We can try to talk to him after we go see Lanie."
"And other than obvious wealth, what do we know about the victim?"
"Not much. The man who found her called her Morgan. So far that's all we have."
"Hmm, Morgan, as in Morgan Le Fay, the witch in Marvel and Arthurian fame"
Kate rolls her eyes. "Don't get carried away, Castle. Lots of women are named Morgan."
Castle gestures at the book-covered walls. "But how many of them would end up in a place like this?"