Unexpected Appearance Chapter 46

"Where's Smokey today?' Roy Montgomery inquires of the man pushing his brisket sandwich order toward him.

"Out sick," the man mumbles.

"That's too bad," Montgomery says, "but there's always some bug going around."

The man grunts in agreement as Montgomery takes the cardboard carrier with his sandwich, coleslaw, and fries. He strolls casually back to the 12th Precinct and enters his office. After carefully closing the door, he seals the order in a plastic bag and shoves it into a drawer for later delivery to a covert lab. Deciding on safety first, he takes a trip to the men's room to thoroughly wash his hands, then returns to his desk to pair a sandwich he'd made at home that morning with a large mug of Castle's best coffee.

Roy gazes around his office. It may be quite a while before he sees it again. After a show of illness and the announcement of his death, he'll be hiding out in an undisclosed location until his funeral. He only agreed based on assurances that his family will be carefully guarded, but if he can take Bracken and his organization down, playing along with the massive scam will be more than worth it.

The NYPD Police Band plays somberly as attendees take their seats for Montgomery's outdoor funeral service. Slowly, a flag-draped casket is brought in, with Rick acting as one of the pallbearers. The sun is bright, hinting at a hot summer soon to come. Along with many others present, Rick wears sunglasses to ward off the glare. Once the casket is deposited on a flower-strewn platform, Kate strides to a podium to begin her speech.

Rick and the other pallbearers stand stiffly in front of the casket, surveying the crowd. He can feel the Kevlar beneath his shirt, tight against his chest. Kate and everyone else at the gathering, including Evelyn Montgomery, are wearing Kevlar as well. The Montgomery children are with their grandmother at her home under heavy covert guard. Of course, the vests won't matter if the attackers shoot for the head. Rick hopes they won't get a chance.

So far, there's no sign of a hostile incursion, but Rick sees a sudden flash from way behind the crowd. The reflection from a scope? He's not taking the time to find out. "Kate!" As he yells, he lunges, knocking her to the ground, just as a shot, followed by a deafening exchange of gunfire vibrates through the air. "Beckett, Kate, are you all right?"

"Fine, Castle. Is Evelyn all right?"

Rick glances toward the front row of seats. "I think she hit the dirt when I tackled you. She looks unharmed."

"Good. Just stay put until ESU finishes taking these bastards down."

"You don't need to tell me twice."

The ladies have long departed on their bus when the raiding party hits the house in the woods. The money counting machines they operated and the table games of the private casino where they encouraged the betters lay idle. As a self-satisfied Nicholas Kasparov puts down his Cuban cigar and reaches for his glass of Grey Goose vodka, the sounds of hell breaking loose reach his ears. He grabs his Makarov pistol, but it will be no defense against the incoming assault.

Four months later

"Dr. Krumholtz," DA Waterhouse addresses his witness. "I show you a micro-cassette tape alleged to have been bravely recorded by then-officer Roy Montgomery of the NYPD. Do you recognize it?"

"I do," Krumholtz confirms. "It was delivered to me by Detective Kate Beckett and Richard Castle for authentication and identification of the recorded voices."

"And did you issue a report?" Waterhouse queries.

"I did."

Waterhouse shows Krumholtz a stapled sheaf of papers. "Please examine this. Is it an accurate copy of your report?"

"It is."

Waterhouse turns to the judge. "I ask that this be entered as The People's Exhibit 165."

"So ordered," the judge declares.

"Now, Dr. Krumholtz," Waterhouse continues, "can you outline for the court, in layman's terms, what your report contains?"

"Yes. The micro-cassette was not altered in any way. It is a genuine micro-cassette of the type sold about 18-19 years ago. I identified the voices on the cassette by voiceprint as belonging to Roy Montgomery and the defendant."

Waterhouse looks toward the judge again. "The People request that the micro-cassette be entered into evidence and played for the jury."

The judge nods. "So ordered."

Six weeks later

"Madam foreperson, has the jury reached a verdict?" the judge inquires as the jury returns to the courtroom.

"We have, your honor."

"Please read it to the court."

Foreperson Matilda Bischoff takes a deep breath. The list of charges against William Bracken is long – and horrendous, so much so that before testimony started, she couldn't understand how a human being could possibly commit that many crimes for so long before being brought to justice. But the evidence was more than beyond a reasonable doubt. The jurors all fulfilled their duty to deliberate, but it didn't take long, not long at all. She clears her throat and begins to read. "On the first charge of conspiracy to commit murder, guilty."

"Well, it's over," Rick says, pulling Kate into his arms outside the courthouse. "Bracken will be behind bars for the rest of his useless life. So will Lockwood. Kasparov has been shipped back to Russia, where I don't think Putin will look kindly on the international embarrassment. ESU took out the rest. The target's off your back, Beckett – off both our backs and Montgomery's, too."

"And Donovan took a plea for 20 years," Kate adds. "The chief put a Captain Gates in charge of IA. Word is she's an honest cop. But Bracken can still appeal. He can probably keep appealing for the next ten years."

"But he'll be doing it from behind bars," Castle points out. "I doubt that he'll enjoy the experience, especially on over 60 charges. And all his funds have been impounded as illegally obtained. It is hard to pay a cadre of lawyers with no money. He's done, Beckett. But," Rick embraces her more tightly, "we're just beginning. Still, there's something left that I have to settle."

"It wouldn't have anything to do with that coffee cup you swiped, would it?" Kate asks.

"In fact, it would. I sent it to a lab, the same one Eliska Sokol used to prove Zane was her son, along with a swab from my cheek. I got the results around the same time the Grand Jury indicted Bracken."

"You found out that Hunt is your father."

"Yes, but how did you know?"

"You do look a little alike, Castle, but it's more in the way he looks at you. Towards pretty much everyone else, he's detached. He makes a joke here and there, but he's not inviting anything but official contact. But with you, there's at least a flicker of warmth. I think he knows, but he doesn't want you to know."

"No, he doesn't. The kind of work agents like him do gets anyone close to them killed. Or loved ones can be used as leverage to get them killed or, at the least, pry loose a secret or two. But I do know. And I want to get to know him a little better – if that's possible."

"It may not be, Castle."

"I know. Still, after bringing down Bracken, evoking a non-professional word or two from the old man should be a piece of cake. But back to the matter at hand – or other body parts. What shall we do now?"

"Buy me a strawberry shake, and we'll figure it out from there."

"A strawberry shake you shall have."