Now What? Chapter 53
"Nerites' shift at the dock should have ended an hour ago," Rick notes, consulting his watch. "He should be coming home any time now."
"Unless he stopped for a drink," Kate reminds him.
"I texted Brian to check. Nerites isn't at The Old Haunt, but he might have stopped somewhere else. Oop! No! I believe that is our suspect approaching his homebase now."
Kate bounds out of her unit with Castle close at her heels. "Mr. Nerites, Kate Beckett, NYPD. This is Mr. Castle. We need a word."
Nerites snorts. "Yeah, Castle. I saw your picture on the wall of the bar with that pansy music. When are you going to have something for real men?"
Rick's eyes flit to the ring on Nerites' finger. "I suppose that would depend on your definition of real men. To me, it's guys who take care of their families and their communities – and remember to tip their servers. Who are you taking care of, Homer?"
Nerites' fingers curl into fists. "I take care of business. You want a demonstration?"
"You want to be arrested for assault?" Kate inquires mildly, tapping on her badge.
"Of course, that might be the least of your problems," Castle interjects. "Take your taste in jewelry, for example. Clunky ring, probably hard to get under your work gloves."
"And funny thing about it," Kate continues. "It matches an imprint our medical examiner found on the body of a man beaten to death. And if your ring left marks, your hands shed DNA."
"If you'd matched my DNA, you would have been after me before now," Nerites retorts.
"You're right," Kate says, "your DNA wasn't on file. But when we charge you with murder, it will be."
"You can't charge me with murder or anything else," Nerites claims. "You have no evidence. Anyone could have a ring like mine."
"Maybe," Kate acknowledges. "However, we have your ringleader in custody. We have his confession. And when our crime lab people swept his apartment, they found lots of fingerprints, including yours, on file from when you applied for a gun permit. You were also observed participating in rituals related to the robbery assaults your little group committed. At the very least, that makes you a co-conspirator to commit multiple felonies. And when a death occurs during the commission of a felony, that's murder. You are under arrest on suspicion of felony murder." Kate drones the Miranda warning. "And I assure you that the NYPD can take your DNA. We both know the lab will match it to what was on Charles Fetterman's body."
Muscles pop on Nerites' jaw. "Wait! Can't we make some kind of a deal?"
"Maybe we'll talk about that at the 12th Precinct," Kate returns, "after we get your DNA."
Nerites drums his roughened fingertips against the cold surface of the box's metal table. He looks up, glaring, as Kate and Castle enter the room. "I've been here almost 24 hours."
Kate shrugs. "Well, even on a rush job, it takes the lab a while to match DNA. In holding, you had a place to sleep."
"And a place to pee," Rick adds.
"And you were fed," Kate continues, settling comfortably into a seat facing Nerites with her black folder in front of her. As Rick takes a seat beside her, Kate unzips her folder and pulls out a lab report. "Want to guess what's in here, Homer? Never mind, I'll tell you. Your DNA matches a sample from Charles Fetterman's body."
Rick stretches and yawns. "You're f*ed, Homer."
"Hold on!" Nerites pleads. "Look, you have Jason, and you have me, but you don't have the others, do you?"
"Not yet," Kate admits. "But we will."
"Maybe," Homer argues, "but I can make sure you do. Just get me a deal. I'll give you the names, where they live, where they work, whatever you want. They both have rings like mine. And when you check their prints against the ones you got from Jason's apartment, you'll know I'm telling the truth."
Kate pulls a legal pad out of her folder and slides it and a pen across the table. "Start writing, Homer. You give me what I need, and I'll help you. But one lie, one omission, and no deal. You got that?'
Nerites' head bobs as he picks up the pen. "I've got it."
Rick watches as a holding cell door clicks shut on the last member of the Hammer Ring gang. "Well, that's it. We're done."
"You may be done, Castle. I've still got to write up the case report for Montgomery," Kate reminds him.
"Not tonight, you don't. Your shift is over in fifteen minutes, and about 30 seconds after that, Montgomery will be out of here. He told me Evelyn's mother is watching the kids while he and Evelyn do dinner and a show. My mother helped them get a deal on tickets for the revival of 'Funny Girl.' One of her old beaus is playing Flo Ziegfield. So, look, I know a great jeweler. When I wanted to figure out how an assassin could have a compartment for poison or a deadly needle in a ring, he helped me. He also supplies the jewelry for a lot of the TV shows and movies that shoot around town. You can have whatever you want, Beckett. If Yankele doesn't have it, he'll make it for you."
Kate rakes her hair away from her face. "I don't know, Castle. Did this Yankele guy sell you the rings you gave Meredith and Gina?"
"No, he didn't. Meredith wouldn't go anywhere but Tiffany. I'm not sure if it was the ring or if she wanted to make sure everyone saw the blue box. Gina fell in love with a ring she saw at Diamanti. Actually, I think she fell in love with it before I proposed. She knew exactly where to look. Yankele will provide something beautiful and unique for the most beautiful and unique woman I can imagine. He's open until nine, and his store is right next to a great little restaurant. You can look to your heart's content, and we can celebrate over dinner."
Checking that they're out of camera range, Kate reaches for a handful of Rick's grabbable behind. "All right, Castle, let's go ring shopping."
Hunt gazes around his new office. It's bigger than he expected and for one more than accustomed to nesting on rooftops and sleeping on hard ground, way cushier than he needs. He wonders if the company thinks the old man is getting soft. He shrugs, limiting the motion as his chest twinges. Maybe he is. As important as it is to train a new generation of assets to complete their missions – preferably without getting killed – he's restless to look in on his son, his granddaughter, and Martha. He needs to get things rolling on the new training regimens he has planned first. But it shouldn't be too long before he can hitch a ride on a plane to New York. He's read that Martha will be opening in a new play soon. If he gets a seat in the back and leaves the minute the performance is over, he can see her without being observed. And if the family is there to cheer her on, all the better. He's curious if Richard will bring his supposed muse. Something is happening there besides a professional partnership. Hunt just hopes it's something good.
