A Murder in the Mosque
By
UCSBdad
Disclaimer: No, I don't own Castle. Wish I did, though. Rating: K+ for some soldier's language. Time: After Season Eight.
They arrived at the al Amriki's home the next morning. Traci was there, but she was mostly interested in Kate. In fact, she ran up to Kate, stood on her hind legs and began licking her face.
"Traci, with an "i", is a dog." Castle said, loudly.
"And she's a blonde and all she's wearing is a dog collar. Other than that, she's nude."
"Hey, Traci's wearing a full-length fur coat." Said her handler.
"So she is, Sergeant Wisnewsky. Are we ready to go?"
"You bet. Don't worry, folks, Traci is the best drug sniffing dog in all of the NYPD."
Mrs. al Amriki had no problems with having Traci look for drugs in their house once Kate explained the connection between her husband's death and that of a drug dealer. However, Traci found nothing there.
Next, they went to the mosque where the new mullah was also cooperative. It wasn't until they were almost done that Traci alerted.
"She's found something." Sergeant Wisnewski said.
"According to the new mullah, this is a storage room for mostly junk they don't really need, but don't want to throw away in case they need it later." Rick said.
"Here it is." Wisnewski said, handing Kate a paper bag.
Kate checked the contents of the bag.
"Pill bottles with pills. I can't tell anything about them though since the labels on the bottles have been obliterated. We'll need to have CSU check them over."
It took until the next day for CSU to get back to Kate.
"The pills are fentanyl." She said, reading the report. "According to CSU they weren't made in in some third rate lab, they're pharmaceutical grade. They did manage to recover the name of the manufacturer, Wellborne Pharmaceuticals, and they managed to recover one number on the label. We're going to need another search warrant for the pharmaceutical company."
"God. I'll need another warrant." Kate said.
The next day, before any warrant arrived, Randolph came in, looking angry.
"Someone screwed up big time."
"What now?" Kate asked.
"Before I came here, I asked for any info we have on anyone in the area with known radical Islamic ties. They said they had nothing. Today I got a phone call, all very apologetic. They had something, but the file was lost and they only found part of it. There's an Albert Johnson, AKA Muhammed Khouri. All we know is that he left the US after converting to Islam, headed for Syria to join the Islamic State. Whatever was in the rest of the damned file is missing. They did find an old address for an Albert Johnson not far from the mosque."
"Let's go talk to Mr. Johnson." Kate said.
"Shouldn't we get a SWAT team?" Castle asked. "I mean he could have a suicide vest, or an AK 47, maybe biological weapons."
"One, we don't know if this is the same Albert Johnson and two were only going to have a little talk with him. And third, I have my imaginative husband to protect me plus a beltway bandit from DC and a couple of State Department types. I'm sure they're not armed," Kate said sarcastically," but Espo, Ryan and I should be able to handle any problems."
"Will you at least wear your Kevlar?"
Kate just shook her head.
When they got to the address that Randolph had provided, they found a mailbox for one Albert Johnson.
"Apartment 307." Kate said. "Remember, this is just a nice, friendly chat."
In spite of that, Kate noticed that Randolph, McCarty and Peake all had their hands under their jackets as the approached the door.
"NYPD." Kate said, knocking on the door. "We'd like to talk to you, Mr. Johnson."
Something was shouted at them, but they couldn't make it out.
"He's probably saying his final prayers before he sets of his suicide vest." Castle said, trying to pull Beckett away from the door.
"That wasn't Arabic." Randolph, McCarty and Peake said in unison.
"What we have must be catching." Castle said. "Now they're doing it."
"Mr. Johnson, we need to talk to you. Will you open the door, please?" Kate yelled.
That got another unintelligible reply.
"Maybe he's hurt." Peake said. "I can just see him in there, injured, sick, or something, just hoping some nice folks will open the door and help him before he dies."
"Really?" Kate said.
"Really." Randolph said. "He sounds like he's in trouble." He reached for the doorknob and before Kate could stop him, he opened the door. "The door was unlocked."
With Castle holding her back, Randolph, McCarty, and Peake went in with guns drawn. They found Johnson sprawled on his couch.
"Doc, check him over. Is he sick? Shot? Injured?"
Peake checked him.
"He's not in good shape, but I'm not sure what ails him. We should take him to the nearest ER."
"Espo, call an ambulance, and you three, put those weapons away."
The three weapons quickly disappeared.
They followed the ambulance to the closest ER and waited for him to be evaluated. As they waited, Kate was approached by a uniform from the 12th Precinct.
"You bringing them in personally, Captain Beckett?" Officer Ann Hastings said.
"Hi, Ann, but no. He's a person of interest in two murders."
"Albert Johnson? I doubt he's been clean and sober enough to swat a fly. We had him in the drunk tank again just last week."
"When last week?"
Ann got out her notebook.
"Sunday night. We picked him up outside of the Dew Drop Inn, a kind of a redneck place. Drunk as a skunk."
"What time did you book him in?"
"Just before eleven. He got tossed out because he ran out of money and was hustling the paying customers for spare change."
"When was he released?"
"It was kind of busy, so we didn't get rid of him until maybe one o'clock the next day."
Kate shook her head.
"Great. So, he has the NYPD as his alibi for the two murders." She turned to her companions. "We'll talk to him anyway. If he was off fighting with the IS, I'd like to know about it."
Eventually, their suspect was coherent.
"Are you Muhammed Khouri?" She asked.
"No. I'm Albert Johnson."
"We heard you changed your name."
"I did. But now I'm Al Johnson, a good Presbyterian boy."
"You fought with the IS in Syria, then went back to being a Christian and smoking pot laced with…something?"
"I went to Turkey as a tourist. I was on a bus with a bunch of other tourists and the driver started falling asleep at the wheel. I volunteered to take over for him. Big mistake. I hit a wet spot and skidded right into a truckload of Turkish Gendarmes."
"Turkish paramilitary police." Randolph said. "More military than police, these days."
"Yeah. So, the cops beat the shit out of me for damaging their truck and I got tossed in prison for assaulting the cops, insulting the Turkish state and a bunch of other bullshit. My fellow Muslims in prison treated me like shit. That's when I decided I wasn't a Muslim anymore. Why?"
"We're looking into the murder of mullah al Amriki. Know anything about it?"
"Never met him. I got religion online."
"That'll be all for now, Mr. Johnson."
A quick check with the mosque showed that Albert Johnson, AKA Muhammed Khouri, had never been a member.
"At least the warrant got here." Kate grumped. "We'll go tomorrow."
Armed with another warrant, Kate and her expanded team descended on the headquarters of the company. They were met by a tall, well dressed brunette woman.
"I'm Carla Andersen, attorney at law. I'll need to check your warrant." She said with a slight sneer.
"I'm sure you'll find everything in order." Kate said, handing over the warrant.
"I doubt that." More sneers.
Ms. Andersen took an awful long time to look over the warrant. So long that Kate began to wonder if she were stalling to give someone a chance to destroy some kind of embarrassing evidence. However, she eventually handed the warrant back to Kate.
"The number you were able to recover indicates the doctor who prescribed this particular medicine. It would have been much easier if you'd provided us with the batch number, but I suppose that would be too much to expect."
Kate saw Castle's eyes light up and knew what was coming. She opened her mouth to stop him, but Castle was way ahead of her.
"Batches? We ain't got no batches. We don't need no batches. I don't have to show you any stinkin' batches."
To Kate's surprise, Ms. Andersen took off running. Calling back over her shoulder, "I'll have that for you as soon as possible, sir."
"Great." Kate muttered, looking at Castle. "She probably thinks she's dealing with Dirty Harry Gold Hat."
"I know who Dirty Harry is." Said Peake, "But who, or what, is Gold Hat."
"From the film Treasure of the Sierra Madre, 1948, Warner Brothers, starring Humphrey Bogart, Tim Holt and Walter Huston, directed by John Huston. The line was about badges and was spoken by a Mexican bandit played by Alfonso Bedoya. only credited as Gold Hat. He was trying to convince Bogart that he and his men were Rurales, the Mexican police." Castle explained.
"Kinda spooked her, didn't you?" Peake said.
It took about twenty minutes for some secretary to come out with a piece of paper. She handed it to Kate.
"The doctor's name is Frank Blackman. His office address is on the paper." Then she turned around and fled.
"Damn. I was just about to ask her to go ahead and make my day." Peake said.
"Don't even think about it." Kate said softly but with menace.
Dr. Blackman's office was on Park Avenue, and it appeared that Dr. Blackman was very successful, indeed. Blackman himself was tall, fiftyish and in good shape with silver hair. He looked at the paper they'd gotten from Wellborne Pharmaceuticals.
"I know exactly who this prescription is for." He said. "Mrs. Bronstein. She has terminal lung cancer. Let me get her file just to be sure." He asked his secretary to get the file. When she returned, he looked it over.
"Yes. This is for Mrs. Bronstein. She lives by herself and is a very stubborn woman. I suggested she go into hospice care but she absolutely refused. She's living in the same house she and her late husband bought over fifty years ago and says she'll die there."
"When did you last see Mrs. Bronstein?" Kate asked.
Blackman checked the file.
"About eight months ago."
"You've been prescribing fentanyl for that long without seeing her?"
'She has terminal cancer. There's no need for her to make the effort to come here to see me since there's nothing I could do for her. Anyway, she refused to come in any more after the chemo and radiation did virtually nothing for her."
"Which pharmacy fills her prescription?"
"It's the CPR drug store just a block from here. You can see it from my office window." Blackman pointed to the window and the drug store.
Kate and her team left and headed for the drug store. They went to the pharmacy in back and identified themselves and asked to talk about Mrs. Bronstein.
"Investigating the murder of a drug dealer we found several bottles of fentanyl which Dr. Blackman said is sourced from your pharmacy. Do you have any idea how Mrs. Bronstein's meds ended up with a drug dealer?"
The pharmacist looked embarrassed.
"No, not really."
"Not really? If the drugs were stolen or lost wouldn't Mrs. Bronstein have come in for a replacement?" Kate demanded.
"We haven't actually seen Mrs. Bronstein for several months."
"How long is several months?"
"Um…"
"Fentanyl is a controlled substance. Mrs. Bronstein would have had to sign for the meds."
"She's very ill you know." The pharmacist began.
"Yes, she has terminal lung cancer. How exactly does she get her meds if she doesn't sign for them here?"
"Um, Oswaldo delivers them."
"She signs for the drugs in front of this Oswaldo? Is he a pharmacist?"
"No, he stocks shelves and does other odd jobs for us."
"I need to speak with Oswaldo." Kate said sharply.
TBC