Finding the Fit Chapter 100

"Detective Beckett," Chief Wong calls from Tech, "the surveillance video you requested from Animal Control is in. I have it cued up for you."

Kate springs from her chair. "Thanks, Wong. Come on, Castle. Let's see if Bartell stuck his head out of his hole."

"This starts when the pound opened to the public the morning after your victim was killed," Wong explains.

"We may have to observe hapless arrivals and joyful departures of puppies and kitties for hours before Bartell arrives," Castle says.

"If it is Bartell, he may get the cat in pretty fast," Kate guesses. "His text didn't sound like he was too attached to it."

Rick sighs. "How quickly criminals turn on their accomplices, especially the unwitting ones."

Kate pushes play. "We'll see."

Rick studies the range of human emotions displayed on the screen. With sad and sometimes guilty looks, people pass by the camera, bringing in pets they either no longer want or are unable to care for. Flowing in the other direction, new pet parents have dogs on leads or cats in carriers, sometimes accompanied by young children bouncing joyfully beside them. Suddenly, he jabs a finger toward the images. "Beckett! That's Bartell! I recognize him from the photos in the stories about his failed cybercrime spree."

"His face matches his DMV photo, too," Kate realizes, "and he's got Tiresias' double. If Chief Carl can come up with a DNA match, we've got our killer – or we'd have him if we knew how to find him."

"The cat's not in a carrier. I doubt he took it on the subway, in a bus, or in a cab. He must have been driving a car. Wouldn't the traffic cams have caught it?"

Kate leans over to kiss him. "Yes, they would! If we can identify it, I can put out a BOLO for it. While that's going, we can also try tracking it to find out where he's holed up."

Ryan sticks his head in the door. "Beckett, there's an alert going off on something in your desk."

"I set an alert on Leslie's phone for a text from the number we think belongs to the Limon Brothers," Castle says. "Perhaps they've fallen into our snare."

Kate bounds from her chair. "Let's go check it out!" Quickly unlocking her desk drawer, Kate checks Leslie Burke's phone for a recent text. "This is it, Castle. 'Meet to discuss putting takeover in motion. Chez Pierre private room, one pm.'"

"I take it that the private room at Chez Pierre will have some unexpected visitors," Castle figures.

"Hopefully, very unexpected. That's almost two hours from now. I'll have time to order the traffic cam footage. And I want to get to Chez Pierre early enough to be prepared for whoever shows up."

"I don't suppose we could order. Chez Pierre makes a salmon en papillote that is to die for."

Kate winks. "After we grab whoever shows up for that meeting, maybe they'll give us some to go."

"This is nice, Castle," Kate says, taking in the sleek but comfortable furnishings at Chez Pierre. "I've never heard of this place before. Has it been in business long?"

"Actually, no. Do you remember when that digital currency came on the scene in 2009? I followed the story because I thought it might find a spot in an international monetary manipulation plot. Anyway, some of the early buyers made their nuts and cashed out to invest their money in something they could see and touch – or in this case, taste. Chez Pierre came out of that. The owner is actually Sam Tuchman, but he hired Pierre Piaf, one of the winners of Cuisine Wars, as his chef and a guy who studied food and beverage management at Cornell to manage the place. It's been up and running for a few months and drawn excellent and well-deserved reviews. My writers crew booked the back room once when Patterson was in town."

"So the owner, Sam Tuchman, came out of the Tech world?" Kate queries.

"Sort of, but as a seller, not a creator. He had some videotape stores when they were hot, but he got out in time to avoid being crushed by Netflix. I think besides the restaurant, he's into CGI for movies and video games now."

"But he might have crossed paths with the Limon Brothers?"

"It's possible that they're trying to hit him up to finance a new venture. They'd need capital. Losing their suit against Brian Newfelter hammered them good."

"Which would make taking over his company the ultimate revenge," Kate speculates. "Well, let's get set up for when the Limons arrive, and we can find out what they're up to."

"Right. And I want to talk to Chef Pierre about the salmon en papillote."

Louie and Lennie Limon arrive at 12:55, stride boldly through Chez Pierre's dining area into the back room, and take seats at the large table. "I thought Leslie would be here," Louie says. "She's usually early for everything."

"She's not late," Lennie points out. "And she's worth the wait. She has some pair of gazongas."

Louie rolls his eyes. "Forget her cup size. She's not interested in you anyway. She's strictly into Bartell. And we need her to put everything together. She knows how we can move on NP now and wherever Bartell decides to work from, we can use his skills too. And if she thinks we can grab NP with that sonofabitch Newfelter dead, we need every detail she can give us."

Lennie licks his lips. "I think she's coming. I can hear high heels."

Louie looks up as Kate enters the room. "You're in the wrong place. This is a private meeting."

"We're waiting for someone else," Lennie adds, even as he eyes Kate's feminine attractions.

"If you're waiting for Leslie Burke to show up, she has other accommodations right now," Rick says from behind Kate. "She's a guest of the NYPD. Some pesky matter about being an accomplice to murder."

Spying Kate's badge, Louie throws his hands up. "We don't know anything about that!"

"Well, then the two of you can come to the 12th Precinct with me and tell me what you do know," Kate replies. "There are two police officers waiting outside to make sure you get there safely."

Rick grins. "Wouldn't want you getting lost."

"We'll meet you there and have our little chat." Kate continues.

"Let's go, Castle," Kate says as a marked unit takes off with a back seat full of Limons.

"In just a minute. Pierre said he'd have the salmon ready to go. I ordered two servings. They'll still be in the paper. I can stick them in the fridge in the break room for us to heat up at the loft later."

Kate can't resist smiling. "How are you going to keep the paper from catching fire?"

"Beckett, I am shocked! As a connoisseur of good science fiction, you must know Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451. That's the temperature at which paper goes up. As long as we use a moderate oven, we'll be fine."

"What if we use the microwave?" Kate teases.

Rick smacks his hand to his face. "Microwave Pierre's salmon en papillote? An insult to the culinary arts. Maybe we should write my handling of most of the cooking into our wedding vows."

"As long as I still have the lead on all our murder investigations."

"Agreed."