Unexpected Appearance Chapter 44

"We've got a line on Petrov!" Ryan's jubilant report blares from the speaker of Rick's cell. "We caught his plate on a security cam from one of those outlet stores around the repair shop."

"Then we listed it with the plates tagged for watch as traffic violators," Esposito adds. "Donovan wouldn't be looking at that. The car went over the GW Bridge into Jersey."

"That would have put it in Fort Lee," Rick says.

"The airfield where Cartland keeps his helicopter isn't far from Fort Lee," Kate realizes. "Lockwood, Petrov, and the rest of the phony cops could be hiding out around there."

"That's what we thought," Esposito says. "So I private-called an old army buddy of mine who's a trooper down there. He ran a search for the plate in that area. It came up on a street cam at Palisade Avenue and Brindle and again on Buckingham Road."

"Which puts it in a pretty small neighborhood," Ryan adds.

"We can check ownership records for houses in the area," Rick says. "Who wants to bet that at least some of them will be the property of a Russian real estate syndicate?"

"No bet," Kate says. "That's great work, guys."

"So what's our next step?" Esposito asks.

"You guys keep Donovan busy looking in on your search for killers with MOs like Petrov's. Castle and I will check out the ownership in that part of Fort Lee."

"Then maybe we can take a little tour of some of Fort Lee's more intriguing homes," Rick suggests.

A smile teases Kate's lips. "Maybe we can."

"Looks like we got lucky," Rick says, gazing up from his computer. "Despite Russian oligarchs' penchants for laundering their money through U.S. properties, only three of the homes in that part of Fort Lee are Russian owned, and only one of them is on Buckingham Road."

"That's got to be where Petrov went," Kate figures. "But now we have another problem. We'd need an official request from the NYPD to work with the locals to bring in Petrov and the other phony cops who might be hiding out there. Donovan would know about it."

"Ah, but Petrov is a known Russian criminal on Russian-owned property," Rick says. "Our friends with the hoods can give us something more than a hidey hole for Dickie Krumholtz and unofficial tidbits. And they have been known to throw great raiding parties."

Kate presses her fingers to her lips. "But we should make sure Petrov is there first."

"Field trip?" Rick queries.

"Field trip, but let's take your car. Donovan may be able to track the movements of my unit."

"My computer system. My car. Maybe I should send the NYPD a bill."

"Castle!"

Rick throws out his hands. "Just kidding! I can't think of anything more worthy of investment than nailing a Russian bad guy we can lean on for a connection to Bracken."

"Except for nailing Bracken."

"Yeah, except for that. What kind of snacks do you want to take for our stakeout?"

"Anything with chocolate."

"A woman after my own heart."

"We won't be able to park here too long," Rick notes from a spot at the curb down the street from Petrov's suspected refuge. "None of these homes would go for less than half a mil and most of them for a lot more. They'd suspect anyone hanging around of casing the area for rip-off targets."

"We can move around," Kate offers. "And there's that little park down the street. We could hang out there for a while and watch through a scope." She strokes Rick's thigh. "And if anyone comes around, we can act like we're making out."

"Just act? Maybe we could go to the park now."

"We just got here, Castle, and… look!"

Rick gazes through a small pair of binoculars at a man checking the mailbox. "That's Petrov! Someone is sending snail mail to his hideout?"

"They wouldn't actually have to send it, just shove it in the box," Kate says. "But even sending it would work. You can't hack paper, and the post office doesn't track regular letters."

"True enough, and the string pullers could code them in case they're misdelivered or a mail carrier gets snoopy. It looks like Petrov received a couple of letters. Instructions for the next hit?"

"We'll find out. Castle, it's time to bring in your friends."

"So, Petrov," Kate begins in a sparse underground interrogation room, "you enjoy inflicting pain."

"I don't know what you're talking about, and you can't just hold me and question me like this," the Russian protests. "I have a right to call my consulate."

"In here, you and your pals have no rights," Kate declares. "You stole an aircraft and used it to perpetrate an attack on an American courtroom. That's terrorism, which means we can keep you incommunicado indefinitely anywhere we want."

"And you should be glad it isn't Guantanamo," Rick adds. "Believe me, folks are a lot more friendly here – or they would be if this place existed. Officially, it doesn't."

"What do you want from me?" Petrov demands.

"Everything you can give me," Kate says. "You see, your buddies are here too – the other phony cops and the man you rescued, who we know is responsible for the murder of two police officers and the kidnapping and torture of two more. We could just drop him on the doorstep of the prison, where they'll lock him up a lot tighter this time – until the big boss decides to shut him up permanently. We could offer him protection, but personally, I'd rather see him burn in hell.

"Now you, I know, are responsible for the extremely painful death of a drug dealer. I can't say I'm too pissed off at you for that. He deserved to die. However, since you were hanging out with Lockwood and all the others, you'll all be painted with the same brush. You'll be in prison – where the other prisoners will make you their bitch and beat the hell out of you just for fun – for the rest of your life unless you tell me what I want to know."

Petrov swipes sweat from his forehead. "And what is that?"

"The names of everyone involved with the organization that sent you to grab Lockwood from the courtroom, but most of all, the name of the man pulling all the strings."

"I don't know the name of the big boss," Petrov claims, "I swear. I just know his man."

Kate leans across the table. "And who is that?'

"Kasparov, Nicholas Kasparov."

"And where do I find Nicholas Kasparov?" Kate questions.

"I don't know. He moves around."

"So, how does he give you instructions?" Kate presses.

"Letters. He gives them in letters, where to meet, what to do."

"Like the ones you received today?" Castle asks.

Petrov nods.

"We looked at those," Kate says. "They're in Russian and coded. Can you decode them?"

"Yes, it's not hard, but I need the book War and Peace. It's at the house."

Kate smiles. "We'll send someone to fetch it."

"Beckett, for a minute, I thought you were going to go full Fallon on him," Rick says after they leave the interrogation room.

"Castle, I've questioned a lot of criminals, robbers, kidnappers, murderers. And I can tell you this: the ones who like to inflict the most pain are usually the worst ones at standing up to any threat of it. That guy would have a hard time in a County Jail. I knew the idea of something rougher would terrify him. So, I faced him with the worst-case scenario. I had a pretty good idea he'd cave."

"Looks like he did. I can't wait to see what's in those letters."

"Neither can I."