Now What? Chapter 32

The sweet scent of blondies hangs in the air of the break room as Wong sits across a high table from Kate and Rick. "I correlated the names with lists of pilot license holders and flight school graduates. I got over 100 hits."

"Is there any way we can pare it down?" Kate asks.

"The easiest way would be to compare images. Pilot licenses have photos."

"And flight schools usually have at least group pictures of graduates," Rick adds. "I used that in 'Impending Storm.'"

"Can you run facial recognition on the licenses?" Kate asks.

"I could, but your suspect was wearing a cap, which messes with the algorithm. So does the tattoo. And it doesn't work as well on people of color. It would be quicker for you just to look at the licenses. They're online. I'll send you a link. The algorithm wouldn't do that great with group photos either and you're on your own finding those."

"That's fine, Wong," Kate assures him. "You did a great job."

Wong nods. "Just tell me where you got the blondies."

Rick pulls a notebook and pen from his breast pocket and quickly jots down the location.

Kate rubs her eyes. "That was the last of the license photos. If that pilot was there, I didn't recognize him."

"Maybe he's an unlicensed driver," Rick suggests, surveying a group photo. His eyebrows jump. "Got something! He went to the Cassis Flight School four years ago. Unfortunately, the caption on this photo doesn't list the names of the graduating class. But someone at Cassis should know who Mr. Tattoo is. De Plane! De Plane!"

Kate groans. "Castle!"

"Sorry, I couldn't resist."

"So where is Cassis flight school?"

"Hudson, New York." Rick enters the address into his phone. "That's in Columbia County, about 120 miles from here. With your cop lead foot, it shouldn't take us more than a couple of hours to get there."

"I do not have a cop lead foot," Kate protests.

"Sure you do. You drive with the surety of a person who knows she's not going to get a ticket. So do Ryan and Esposito. So does Montgomery and most of the other cops around here. It's a coppish attribute, but," he leans in for a quick peck, "one that can come in very handy. So, Hudson?"

"Hudson," Kate agrees.

Angus MacMahon studies Kate's printout of the photo of her suspect. "Yeah, I remember him. Quiet but dedicated. Highest test scores in the class."

"What's his name?" Kate questions.

"James Chote," I remember because it made me think of choking up on the stick.

"Did you get an address?" Kate asks.

"There should be one in his file, but it would be four years old, and he said he moves around a lot."

"I'm sure he does," Rick comments.

"I'd like a copy of whatever you have," Kate says.

"Sure thing," MacMahon agrees. "He's not some kind of terrorist, is he? I never want to train terrorists."

"No," Kate assures him. "But he did fly the helicopter a murderer escaped in."

"Sh*t! I'll get that file right now. I hope you catch him."

"That makes three of us," Rick says.

Before starting her unit for the trip back to the city, Kate pulls out her cell phone. "What are you doing?" Rick asks.

"Running a DMV check for James Chote. They require prints for some types of licenses, but he was in the copter, not the courtroom, so we wouldn't have seen them. And the bleach would have removed them. Still, it's not that common a name. I shouldn't get too many hits and I can check the pictures."

Rick rubs his hands together. "Excellent! Anything coming up?"

"Not yet. It can take a while, and my cell signal's not that strong out here. OK, here they come." Kate holds her phone where Castle can see it and starts swiping through the images.

"No," Rick responds, "No, no, no, yes! That's him, Beckett! That's the pilot!"

"The address he gave the DMV is about five blocks from the 12th Precinct," Kate notes.

Rick chortles. "Right under our noses."

"If he's actually there," Kate cautions.

Rick grins. "Even if someone patched him up, where's he gonna go with a bullet wound? Come on, Beckett! Hit the gas. Let's go get him."

Kate shakes her head. "I'll get the boys to bring him in. That way, he'll have time to sweat a while before we get there."

"Not as much as he'll sweat when you start grilling him."

When Kate and Rick enter the box, James Chote sits silently at the table. The bulk under his shirt and his hesitant movement suggest that a bullet may have grazed his ribs. "Mr. Chote, do you know why you're here?" Kate asks. The pilot remains silent. "I'm sure detectives Ryan and Esposito explained to you that you are a person of interest in the escape of a dangerous criminal. The bandage under your shirt is covering a wound from my bullet. You were flying the helicopter Hal Lockwood used to leave the courthouse where he was being arraigned for a second murder. That's aiding and abetting, which means that you would face the same penalty as Lockwood – life in prison. But I can help you. You give me Lockwood, and I talk sweet to the DA about going easy on you."

"I give you Lockwood, and I'm a dead man," Chote protests.

"You don't give her Lockwood, and your death will be assured," Rick says. "He goes after anyone who can testify against him or his boss. That's what the second murder was. And he won't care how many he commits. It will be the same lifetime in prison if he gets caught. Your best chance if you want to live is to tell Detective Beckett everything you know."

Chote swallows. "I don't know much about Lockwood. I never met him before he got on the chopper. Once I landed, he took off. A couple of those phony cops took me to a nurse who took care of me before they took me home. They told me if I kept my mouth shut, I'd be fine and get more work, but if I talked, I'd never live to fly again."

"Those phony cops, were they the ones who hired you to fly the copter?" Kate asks.

"No, I was contacted online. I've done some, uh, other work that I've obtained that way. "

"Who contacted you?" Kate presses.

"I don't know. Whoever it was goes by Dragon. The money was wired to my account, half before, half after."

"So there would be a record of that transaction," Rick asserts.

"Yes, but the money came from a numbered account. I don't know whose account it was."

"We have ways of tracing it," Kate says.

"Our computer guy is kind of a genius," Castle adds.

"So what happens to me?" Chote asks.

"You'll give a complete detailed description of everything you know, and then we'll keep you in holding," Kate says. "If everything checks out, someone from the DA's office will be here to talk deal. But if not, you'll be sent to the Tombs to await arraignment. They stack prisoners like cordwood there, and you could be shanked without anyone ever hearing you scream."

"Holding is definitely your preferred choice," Rick advises. "And I think it might even be meatloaf night."

Chote shakes his head. "I'm a vegetarian."

"Don't worry," Rick offers, "I don't think they actually put meat in it."