Finding the Fit Chapter 49
Kate and Rick stare intently at the big screen in Tech as it displays video of a speech Bracken made early in the previous January. He's coming to the end," Rick notes. "If he's going to say it, he'll say it here."
As Bracken raises his arm to wave at the crowd, Kate unconsciously grabs Rick's hand. Bracken's farewell of: "Happy New Year" crackles through every nerve in their bodies.
"That's it, Beckett!" Rick exclaims. "We've got it!"
Kate suddenly realizes that her hand is engulfed in his and pulls free as nonchalantly as she can. "Only if we're right about what will open that vault. Ready for a trip back to the mansion as soon as I make a recording of this?"
"More than ready."
"We should grab Ryan and Esposito as witnesses. If it works, they'll get almost as much of a charge out of it as we will."
"I doubt that's possible," Rick says. "But it's a good idea. And we'll want pictures, lots of pictures – or at least I will."
Kate's features brighten at the thought. "Pics of Bracken's secrets would look great on the murder board. Let's grab the guys and go."
Mentally crossing her fingers Kate pushes the play button on her digital recorder. As Bracken's voice fills the room, a click sounds from the vault, and a green light flashes. "Are you going to do the honors, Beckett?" Rick asks.
Kate stumbles back into Rick as the heavy metal door swings outward much more easily than she had expected. As she quickly rights herself, Rick grins. "Bracken must have kept this thing well lubricated."
The interior of the vault is fully illuminated, obviating the need for flashlights. Built-in shelves glow with the bright sheen of gold and slightly duller shine of platinum ingots. Cash is arranged in packets but without bank wrappers. What draws Kate, however, are the file cabinets. Carefully checking her gloves for tears or holes that might compromise any fingerprints or DNA present, she opens a drawer and pulls out a hardcover notebook from a stack within. "Oh, my God!"
"What is it?" Rick questions as Ryan and Esposito crowd in to get a look.
"It's a journal, Bracken's journal," Kate replies breathlessly. "This looks like a recent one. There are entries from two months back. He must have his current one with him."
"Look at all of them!" Ryan exclaims. "These must go back years."
"Just like a politician. He had to brag about what he was doing, and he couldn't do it in public," Esposito asserts. "So he wrote it down."
"These must go all the way back to his days in the DA's office," Rick figures. "And if they do…."
"Bracken might have written about his involvement in my mother's murder. These are labeled with the dates he wrote them." Kate starts lifting out the books and carefully stacking them in order on the vault floor. She gasps, her gloved fingers curling tightly around a volume. "Castle, this one covers the dates when my mother and the others were killed."
"Beckett, are you all right?" Rick asks.
Kate blows out a breath. "I'm OK. I just need a minute."
"You want me to look at it?" Rick offers.
"No, I've come this far. I can do it," Kate insists. Refilling her lungs, Kate opens the notebook. She begins to read aloud. "'When those idiot cops who've been kidnapping the mob guys and holding them for ransom shot Bob Armen, an undercover FBI agent, the sh*theads really stepped in it. Raglan, McCallister and that rookie that followed them around were all in on the snatch that went wrong. I don't know who fired the shot. I don't care. They were all guilty, which gave me even more leverage over them than I had before. I went from taking a cut to taking everything. It gave me one hell of a war chest for my congressional campaign. I hung the killing on a mob enforcer, Joe Pulgatti. The sonofabitch belonged in prison anyway. He's one more piece of dirt off the street. He was afraid New York would actually give him the death penalty, so he confessed in exchange for a life sentence. That would have been the end of it, except that he decided he'd been screwed and started writing to lawyers. I never believed that any attorney would take up the case of a dirtbag like Pulgatti, who actually confessed to murder, but one, Johanna Beckett, did. Worse, she got some of her colleagues and even a guy at the court involved. I'll need them all taken out in a way that's easy to write off as random violence. I'll need an expert to do that. I hate to call in Coonan. He's expensive as hell. But he was deadly in Afghanistan, and he's just as deadly here. And with that philanthropist act he's got going, no one thinks butter would melt in his damn mouth. Those f***ing cops caused the problem. The money they brought in will solve it. And with Vulcan keeping the drug money flowing, I'll still have plenty to move up to the Senate, where I'll have even more power. Once I'm on the Intelligence and Foreign Affairs Committees there, I'll have the world at my fingertips. No one will ever be able to stop me.'"
Kate closes the notebook hard and drops it on top of the stack on the floor. "The hell no one will ever be able to stop him. He thinks those cops made a mistake shooting Armen. He made a much bigger one having my mother and the others killed."
"So, who's Coonan?" Ryan wonders.
"I think I might know," Rick says. "Once you support one deserving cause, every charity around starts hitting you up. I got a letter once inviting me to a dinner honoring a Dick Coonan, who supposedly builds schools for girls in Afghanistan. Like a lot of those things, it was a fundraiser. They wanted a thousand dollars a plate. I'm all for building schools, especially for those who've been barred from education, but the brochure that came with the letter looked a little too polished. So I checked out the organization with some of the, uh, sources I developed for my research. Turned out that guy, Dick Coonan, built exactly one school, which was immediately taken over by the Taliban and turned into a madras. No girls are allowed near the place. The rumor was that Coonan is using his charity work as a cover for drug smuggling – not exactly anything new in that part of the world. That would give him a link with Bracken."
"And where would I find this sonofabitch Coonan?" Kate asks.
"According to the brochure I saw, his charity maintains an office on 42nd Street," Rick recalls. "I think it's in the same high-rise that houses the United Way. Trying to surround himself with reputable company, no doubt."
Kate turns to Ryan and Esposito. "Coonan's a suspect in four murders. You guys go bring him in, but if he wants a phone call, he doesn't get it until you process him at the precinct. And take your time. I need to secure this evidence where no one can get at it until I can bring charges against Bracken."
"Why not just lock it back up in the vault?" Esposito asks.
"Too many people know about the raid. It's probably gotten back to Bracken. He may try to retrieve the contents of the vault or destroy it. Either way, his journals can't stay here."
"Where are you going to put them?" Ryan asks.
"What you don't know, you can't be forced to tell," Kate replies. "Just go get Coonan now. I'll take care of it."