Confession Chapter 47

"She was strangled," Lanie announces. "The hyoid wasn't just broken, it was shattered. And there were ligature marks, but not like anything I've ever seen before." She gestures toward her autopsy table. "Have a look."

Castle gazes down at Morgan's crushed neck. "Those marks look like they were made by scales, like on a snake."

"Anyone spot a python or a boa constrictor on the premises?" Kate asks. "Some people keep them as pets."

"That's what I wondered about too," Lanie said. "But the officers looked around. They even called in someone from animal control to figure out where a snake might hide. But there was no sign of one."

"Anything else weird about this case?" Kate asks.

"Morgan was a lot older than she looks – or at least her organs were."

Castle studies the victim's face. "She appears to be in her thirties, or maybe a well-preserved forty."

"Mm-hmm," Lanie agrees. "You would think so. But her organs are more like those of a seventy-year-old, maybe older."

"Plastic surgery and a lot of Botox?" Castle queries.

"She has no scars from plastic surgery and none of the muscular characteristics that go with Botox. I didn't find any indication of dermal fillers either. The way she looks is natural, it just doesn't extend to the inside."

"So how old would you say she is?" Kate asks.

Lanie shrugs. "Can't say yet. I have to check her teeth and bones. But I'm not sure how accurate that will be either. I've never seen a body like this before. I may have to bring in a forensic anthropologist."

Castle's eyes light up. "You mean like 'Bones' on TV? Reconstruct everything with a hologram?"

"Sorry, Castle. But the holographic reconstruction on the show is science fiction – for now, anyway. The anthropologist I have in mind, Casey Griswold, is a seventy-year-old man. But he may be able to answer some questions about Morgan."

"How about the snake?" Castle queries. "Right now it looks as if our suspect for a cold-blooded killer really is cold-blooded. The Bronx Zoo has a great herpetologist, Anna Boyman. I used her as a consultant for 'Unholy Storm.'"

"The scene with the snake dancers?" Kate inquires.

"She was very helpful," Castle insists. "Anyway, if those marks did come from a snake, she would be able to tell us which one."

"All right, Castle. You know her. Why don't you give her a call?" Lanie suggests.

"I shall do just that," Castle declares.

"Where the hell are you?" Bracken demands at the sound of Carmack's voice on his burner phone.

"A motel off Interstate 95. I had to stop before I hit a toll booth with cameras. Things are f***ed up big time."

"Damn right, they're "f***ed up!" Bracken shouts into his phone. "You were supposed to take out all our major threats – Maddox, Simmons, Beckett, Castle. Instead, Maddox and Simmons made a deal to testify to a grand jury and Beckett and Castle helped drag what they know out of them. You know the SDNY can't let the case against me go now. And Maddox spilled enough so Sims can't help us."

"I can set up again to take Simmons and Maddox out," Carmack proposes.

"No, you can't. Maddox already gave you up. Get out of the country, now!" Bracken orders.

"How? I'll need cash, lots of it. I can't use a credit card or an ATM. The FBI will already have them flagged."

"That's your problem," Bracken retorts. "You made this mess. Get yourself out of it."

Carmack hears the beep of a terminated call but keeps staring at his phone. There's only one way out now. Bracken is throwing him under the bus. He can return the favor."

The wrinkled skin of the man propped up in his hospital bed looks almost as white as his hair. "Mr. Gore?" Kate inquires.

Gore's voice is weak but steady. "Yes. Are you the police? I've been waiting for someone to come."

"I'm Detective Kate Beckett and this is Mr. Castle. We need to ask you some questions. I understand that you were the one who found the body of the woman you called Morgan. Do you know her full name?"

"Morgan Gorlois, but she rarely used it. She always preferred just Morgan."

"And how did you know her?" Castle inquires.

"I was her librarian, her family's librarian actually, and its curator. Ingrid Gorlois hired me in 1960 before Morgan came to live in the house. Ingrid passed on 20 years ago, and that's when Morgan arrived. The conditions of the family trust specified that a Gorlois must occupy the property."

"Do you live there, or just come in to work?" Kate inquires.

"I live in what was once the Gorlois carriage house before it was turned into my quarters. Room and board are part of my compensation. But, with Morgan gone, I suppose that may be ending."

"Aren't there any more family members who would want to live in a mansion?" Castle asks.

"I was told that Morgan has a son, Ivan, but I've never seen him. As far as I know, Morgan had no contact with him. But there were a great many things she did of which I was not a part."

"Like what?" Castle asks.

"Rituals of some kind passed down through the family. As I said, I was not a part of all that."

Did you and Morgan talk?" Kate inquires.

"Oh yes! We talked about books, art, music, nature. Morgan was very fond of plants and she studied herbalism. I managed to acquire many texts on it for her. She also kept an herb garden on the grounds, not far from my quarters. She spent a lot of time there."

"You talked with her about nature. How did she feel about snakes?" Castle asks.

"That was one part of nature she didn't like. Hated, actually. She had ophidiophobia."

Castle nods. "Fear of snakes."

"In her case, it was so severe, that she couldn't even stand any mention of them. One of my duties was to look over any books she wanted to read to make sure the subject never came up. And if it was unavoidable, flag the offensive pages so she could skip them."

"Do you know what brought on the phobia?" Castle queries. "Did she have some trauma involving a snake?"

"Not that I know of. However, she told me once that she had recurring nightmares about being killed by one. But why is that important to your investigation of her death?" Gore asks.

"We just like to get all our facts straight," Kate jumps in. "Potentially, any little detail can have a bearing on an investigation. Mr. Gore, we understand that you were very strongly affected by Morgan's death."

"Finding her like that was terrible. But when the police found us, I was very disoriented. The doctors say I have a concussion. Someone hit me with something."

"Do you think it was Morgan's killer?" Kate asks.

"It must have been. A cleaning crew comes in three times a week. But they weren't there that day. Morgan and I were the only ones in the house."

"But you didn't see anyone?" Kate probes.

"Not a soul."

"All right, Mr. Gore. Thank you for your time," Kate says.

"Kate, this case is just getting weirder," Castle whispers, as he and Kate leave Gore's room. "Gorlois was the name of Morgan le Fay's father. She married Urien of Gore and had a son, Yvain. That would make Mr. Gore's ancestors from the same area. More than that, her mother Igraine, had a second husband, Uther Pendragon."

"King Arthur's father," Kate realizes. "But all of that's crazy, Castle. The whole Arthur thing is just a bunch of stories."

"Right," Castle agrees, "but what if someone decided to live them out?"