xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Monday, 13 May 2013, 11:15 A.M.
Office of the Police Commissioner
14th Floor
NYPD Headquarters
1 Police Plaza Path,
New York, NY 10038
"And he flew all the way down there just to break up with her some dramatic confrontation," Martha huffs "Just left her there and flew back."
"That's about the size of it," Frank Reagan confirms.
"What is wrong with that boy?" the Broadway diva shakes her head.
"Well, you did raise him," Garrett Moore quips, then quickly withers under her glare.
"Well, both raised him," Frank Reagan responds, "But, yeah, the dramatics are all her."
"You think this is funny?" Martha snaps, "Last week, he seemed perfectly fine with his role at the precinct. I've never been comfortable with it, but I made my peace with it. Now this."
"Come on Martha," Frank replies, "He couldn't keep pretending to be less than he is, be her goofy sidekick forever."
"And of course, you finally get what you wanted," Martha sighs, "All your boys dragged into…this…this life. I understand that even Nicky is thinking about taking the entrance exam. Why not rope Alexis in as well so the Regan dynasty can continue into the fourth generation."
"There is no dynasty!" Frank Reagan huffs, "And those boys are all adults who made their own choices. I didn't drag them into anything."
"Don't give me that," Martha stares him down, "All of them…Richard included…grew up at you precious Reagan Sunday dinners, listening to you and Henry tell your stories. You two practically have your own gravitational field, drawing them in.
"I can understand Daniel and Joseph, God rest his soul, but what about your promise to Mary? She didn't want Jaminson to join the department. He went to Harvard, became a lawyer, and met a beautiful, wonderful girl, but he still threw all that away to impress you."
"Again, that was Jamie's decision to make," Frank counters, "It wasn't my place to persuade him one way or another."
"You're his father!" Martha snaps, "It was exactly your place to do everything you could to honor his mother's wishes especially when you knew perfectly well, he was being motivated mostly out of his grief over loosing Joseph."
"What was I supposed to do?" Frank counters, "Ban him from the department?"
"Oh, I forgot," Martha sneers, "Francis Xavier Reagan is the defender of the sanctity of this most high office, and that's more important than anything else, because family comes first unless if might tarnish it even in the slightest."
"Now that's not fair!"
"At least when he held the position," Martha glares, "Your father understood that a human is supposed to occupy this office, not a statue."
"I seem to remember that I have some important calls to return," Garrett stands up nervously.
"Sit back down!" Martha and Frank snap at him causing him to drop back in his seat.
"Now how you deal with your boys is your business," Martha continues, "But Richard is my son, not yours. Alexis is my granddaughter, not yours."
"I know that Martha…" Frank concedes, his tone reflects that it's both the truth and that he doesn't like it.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
FBI Headquarters
J. Edgar Hoover Building
Washington, D.C., U.S.
Office of Special Agent Diana Berrigan
"A fiver says he'll break a record running to complain to Freedman," Diana Berrigan says after Philip Kramer storms out of her office leaving Kate with Berrigan and Shaw.
"No bet," Jordan Shaw rolls her eyes.
"What do you think he's going to do?" Kate asks.
"You're the profiler, Shaw," Diana responds, "What do you think he'll go with?"
"Knowing, Phil's mood when it comes to Castle," Jordan responds, "He'll go in fuming about it would be a disaster to let Rick Castle's girlfriend onto the Task Force, but Freedman would just wave it off as just another case of Phil's vendetta against him."
"Is he really that really that angry over this Caffery guy?" Kate asks, though she knows her fair of senior officers who carry grudges over much lesser things.
"He does seem to let his emotions take over where Ricky is concerned," Diana agrees, "But's more than him helping Caffrey, it what he represents."
"Agents like Phil are traditionalists," Shaw clarifies, "They believe in people starting at the very bottom as rookies and climbing the ladder, only getting to the next rung after they prove themselves at their current level."
"However, in large organizations like the Bureau," Diana adds, "This runs the risk of the Peter Principle where a person is promoted one level above their absolute competence since the next level requires a completely different set of skills."
"And that's what's happened to Kramer?" Kate guesses.
"Good God no," Diana shakes her head, "Even though I have my issues with him. He was able to adapt and excel at every level he reached."
"So, what is his problem?" Beckett asks confused.
"Have you ever heard of the Reverse Peter Principle?" Jordan asks.
"No," Kate shrugs.
"The Reverse Peter Principle," Shaw explains, "Contends that especially in large organizations, certain people may struggle just to be mediocre at the bottom rung, but they have skills and talents that make them shine at higher levels.
"Consider Steve Jobs, Richard Branson, and other entrepreneurs. They would have struggled in traditional corporate hierarchies but excelled when placed in roles where they had more autonomy and the opportunity to shape and lead their own ventures.
"And for a person like Phil Kramer," Diana adds, "This is an unacceptable concept because it violates his notion of the proper order of things."
"And Rick is an example of this?" Kate gives a disbelieving look, "We're talking about law enforcement not starting up a computer or record company."
"Well, then," Diana counters," "Consider Generals like Grant, Eisenhower, and Bradley who struggled as junior Army officers with Grant even resigning, but when war broke out and they were given high command, they shined and won wars."
"For Phil," Jordan continues, "Consultants like Castle are a bigger threat to the Bureau than the people we actually chase. I'm sure you've run into your fair share of such people at the NYPD."
"Yes, I have," Kate admits.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
FBI Headquarters
J. Edgar Hoover Building
Washington, D.C., U.S.
Office of FBI Executive Assistant Director Anthony Freedman
"Are you out of your freaking mind!" Kramer blurts as he bursts through the door.
"I'm sorry sir," Freedman's assistant says from the doorway, "But he wouldn't wait."
"That's alright, I know how hard it is to stop him once he gets a full head of steam," Freedman waves of the assistant who nods and leaves. "Phil, I don't think this is the best time."
"This is the perfect time to keep you from making a colossal mistake," Kramer counters, "You cannot be seriously thinking about hiring Rick Castle's girlfriend for the Taskforce."
"You really have to let this feud with Rick Castle go," Freedman counters, "Didn't the whole Caffrey disaster teach you anything?"
"I refuse two let those to tell us how to run the U.S. Justice and Penal system because they think they're the smartest people in the room!" Kramer fumes.
"The same goes for FBI Agents," Freedman glares, "Neil Caffrey kept up every part of the deal with us and then some, and you tried to intentionally sabotage it."
"Once a con, always a con," Kramer counters, "I did what I did for the right reasons."
"So, did Roger Bloom," Freedman reminds him, "A career in the Bureau as legendary as your down the toilet along with his pension because of his obsession."
"Well, Bloom landed alright," Kramer says, not believing it in the least, "I hear his security consulting firm is doing quite well."
"It is," Freedman smiles, knowingly, "Of course, a lot of that has to do with his main financial backer and source of referrals."
"Oh, you got to be kidding me!" Kramer realizes.
"Charlie Epps, another consultant, made the introduction," Freedman confirms, "Who do you Castle used to do some of his research on that theory that broke your smuggling case."
"Epps, another boy genius who thinks he can write his own rules," Kramer practically spits, "McGowan was right, we should've kicked him to the curb if Bloom hadn't called in a bunch of favors."
"Well, that didn't turn out so good for Carl now did it, Phil," Freedman remind him, "Even Roger hadn't made the call, there were already other agencies lining up to keep Epps's security clearance from NSA to the FAA."
"You've got to be kidding me!" Kramer scoffs, "That geek put information out there that could've endangered this country."
"Oh, come on, we overreacted," Freedman counters, "He published a colleague's paper on improving crop yields which some low-level analyst tried to squash because the author was a Pakastani Professor.
"Experts, actual scientists who work for us, told us we were wrong. We only didn't back down immediately because we were embarrassed, and our lawyers and public affairs people were afraid of a racial profiling accusation."
"It was a legitimate concern," Kramer insists, "Epps still violated protocol."
"McGowan overreacted," Freedman insists, "Without Epps, we'd still be explaining how deadly nerve gas stollen from U.S. facility was used to rob the LA Federal Reserve, and that's not even the worst thing he helped us avoid."
"McGowan was right," Kramer counters, "We need to put a tighter leash on all of these boy wonders before we're knee deep in their chaos. They already think they should run the place."
"Never happen," Freedman rolls his eyes, "The paperwork alone would drive them to quit after the first day, not to mention dealing with lawmakers."
"This isn't funny!"
"It's reality," Freedman sighs, "We are limited in what we can do by the Constitution and the rule of law, as it should be. But to make sure we do, we have mountains of rules, regulations, and procedures to make sure we adhere to them. The problem is that most of the worst of the bad guys have read our playbook.
"Between lawyers, lobbyists, and unlimited campaign funds, they've found all also sorts of tricks and loopholes to get around us. That's why we need people who can come up with their own tricks and still keep the politicians and courts happy."
"And you think Castle can do that," Kramer responds, "Wha about all the bodies he dropped on Jericho Townscape Development case."
"Well, he didn't kill them," Freedman responds, "We only realized JTD's silent partners were the Bratva after Castle's plan paralyzed their money laundering, disappointing the Russians. We offered them deals to flip. Not Castle's fault, some were arrogant enough to think they could still talk their way out of it."
"He had to know the Russians were involved," Kramer counters, "He spent years advising Frank Reagan on fighting them in Brighton. I don't know why, but I know in my gut that he was looking to set those guys up to die and keep his hands clean."
"I think you've been reading to many of his spy novels," Freedman says dismissively.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Office of the Police Commissioner
"Maybe you do, but does Richard?" Martha Rogers responds, "If there was someone in this world, he would want to be proud of him, it's you. And I will not allow you to play on those feelings to use him to replace to son you lost."
"I thought you knew me better than that?" Frank responds, genuinely hurt by the accusation, "Rick has never been a replacement for anyone. I know it's always been tough for you, but Mary and I have loved him as much as our own since he came into our lives.
"And even after all this time, no matter how much he's grown, he's still that little boy who won't depend or ask for too much on it because he's still terrified that we might take it away. And there is no way in hell I would use that for my own agenda."
"I'm…I'm sorry," Martha deflates, regretting her words, "I know you love them both, and even after all these years, I'm still jealous that your house and family could provide them with the sanctuary they could run to feel that I never could.
"And as much as it chaffed, I'm glad Richard could to you whether it was dealing with the bullies at school or those experts who wanted use him as a lab rat, and Alexis had someplace she felt safe whenever Meredith broke her heart or after Gina walked out."
"Well thank you for that," Frank smiles somberly, "I know how hard it was for you to admit."
"But you have to admit the timing of when you offered him the job is a little suspect from where I sit," Martha adds.
"I didn't offer him the job," Frank corrects her, "Rick told he was going to quit following Beckett, and the only way I could keep him on was to agree to his terms."
"He's telling you the truth Martha," Garrett interrupts calmly and sincerely, "I was here when he offered the deal. It totally came out of nowhere."
"And you agreed, just like that?" Martha regains some of her anger, "Knowing that he was dealing with this situation with Katherine."
"His request wasn't about Beckett," Frank argues, "At least not directly, and turning him down might have been worse."
"Now you've lost me," Martha responds, confused.
"Call it a gut feeling," Frank explains, "But I got a feeling he's figured out who was behind Roy's murder and Beckett's shooting, and I think he was quite content, to keep allow her to take the lead."
"But then she goes and does this, and he decides to handle it himself," Martha concludes, "But how can you be so certain?"
"Because I saw look on his face," Frank explains, "It wasn't anger or depression like before when he fought with Beckett. It was more blank, devoid of emotions. We've both seen it before. The first time for me was on December 27, 1983, when he was eleven.
"Rick is going to war. I could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. And knowing him, this job is just part of his grand strategy. And If I didn't agree, he'd just find a substitute. At least this way, I might keep an eye on him to keep from crossing a line.
"Oh," Martha says understanding but at a loss for words.
"Martha, we both know what he's like when he goes into full St. Michael mode," Frank adds, "There's nothing we can do or say to stop him."
"St. Michael mode…Grand Strategy…Am I missing something here?" Garrett asks confused.
"Later," Frank shuts him down.
"Yes, there is likely nothing we can do or say," Martha hangs her head knowing Frank Reagan is correct, "But maybe there someone how might. And I imagine the Police Commissioner might have some idea of when her plane lands."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Office of Special Agent Diana Berrigan
"I imagine you're speaking of your redoubtable Captain Gates," Diana says to Kate Becket with slight tone of, "She's likely not having a pleasant day."
"Oh, I promise you she's not," Jordan Shaw responds, "I got in touch with Larry after the story hit the fan, he was at the 12th with a front row seat."
"Larry…as in Larry Brown," Kate interrupts.
"Yes, Berrigan and I have known him forever," Shaw explains. "Do you know how hard it is to find a reporter these days in a mainstream outlet who isn't convinced that the FBI out to turn the country into a fascist state."
"Or a communist one," Diana adds, "Evey time we go after someone, it's part of some massive conspiracy to bring down capitalism. The central belief of every moron is that he is the victim of a mysterious conspiracy against his common rights and true deserts."
"What?" Kate looks at her confused.
"It's one of Ricky's favorite quotes, "H.L. Mencken, 1920."
"Whatever," Kate says dismissively, "I can't believe he had the balls to go down there after what he wrote about Gates, does he have death wish."
"From what I understand," Shaw chuckles, "He felt it was the last place the person he was really hiding from would look for him."
"Who's that?" Beckett asks.
"Alexis Castle of course," Jordan replies, "Once the column hit, and she couldn't find her father, she was going to get answers."
"He's afraid of Alexis Castle?"
"Oh, you really don't know the girl, do you?" Diana responds, "Beneath that the sweet, responsible, even tempered exterior, she's still a Reagan with the Reagan temper that goes with it. I'm sure you've heard your fair share of stories about Danny Reagan."
"So, what happened when he ran into Gates," Kare asks, not sure what to do with the previous statement.
"Well, it seems she was on a real tear," Jordan recounts, "Especially after she found workers already turning the old, abandoned Captain's office into Castle's new digs, and Larry dropped up some office warming items."
"Oh, boy," Kate shakes her head.
"Anyway," Jordan smile, "You're Captain started giving some lecture that she was still in command of the precinct and such, and Larry is a big Tolkien fan."
"Tell me about it," Diana chuckles, "He can go on for hours about the differences between the books and Jackson's film adaptation."
"I know right," Jordan continues, "So, just as Gates was finished making her declaration of how it was still precinct, Larry used on of his favorite lines from the third film."
"You don't mean," Diana smiles widely.
"Authority is not given to you to deny the return of the king?" Jordan quotes, causing Diana to break out laughing.
"He actually said that, to her!" Kate's pop wide open in total disbelief, "In the middle of her own precinct? What did she do after that?"
"Don't know," Jordan shrugs, "Said he had to go and would catch me up on all the fireworks later, something about the veins her head pulsating, he thought she might have stroke."
"Funny," Diana responds, "The way the veins in Kramer's neck were pulsating, I thought the exact same thing about him."
"Well, I don't know about Gates," Jordan shrugs, "I'm not worried about Phil. He has the constitution of a subway vending machine."
"I don't know," Diana counters, "Ricky does have that effect on people."
"Okay one time," Jordan points out, "Opperman hardly makes for a standing precedent."
"Opperman…why does that name sound familiar?" Kate asks.
"Howard Opperman," Diana clarifies, "The President of Jericho Townscape Development, JTD. Had a massive stroke when he realized he had to give up everything and go into witness protection or he could face his unhappy silent partners. Been a drooling vegetable ever since."
"Speaking of Opperman," Shaw asks, "Is it true that Castle delivered the news to him personally."
"Oh yes," Diana nods, "Very dramatic, even arranged the meeting at a cemetery.
"A cemetery?" Kate reacted, confused.
"Of course," Diana continues, "The arrogant ass thought he could still talk his way out of it. The stroke came later after others died under unusual circumstances."
"Wow," Jordan sighs, and checks her watch, "I have a budget meeting to get to, joy of joys. Good luck with the job Beckett."
"Thank you," Kate responds as they shake hands goodbye, but she's can only wonder about why Rick chose a cemetery. She knew Rick could be dramatic; the morning's confrontation proved that. But this was something more.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The Green-Wood Cemetery
500 25th Street
Brooklynn, New York City, New York
Carrying the flowers they purchased by a nearby family-owned store that they know well, Father and daughter slowly make their way through the beautiful and serene environment of the historic cemetery towards three markers.
They first stop at the smaller marker on the far right of the three, inscribed JOSEPH CONOR REAGAN, JANUARY 4TH, 1977. MAY 15TH, 2009. Loving Son and Brother.
"Hey, kid," Rick greets sadly, "Wherever you are, I guess you heard...finally in the family business. I know that Betty and Mary are likely hopping mad like Mother and you're likely getting the worst of it so, I'm sorry about that."
He chuckles lightly and then nods to his daughter.
"I miss you Uncle Joe," Alexis says with a sniffle, placing a set of flowers at the grave.
The other two are larger companion headstones, meant for couples who will be interred together with the name Reagan inscribed in big letters at the top and the names of the wives on the left-hand side while the right-hand side of both are blank, awaiting their husbands.
Alexis knees between them.
"I miss you Aunt Mary," she lays flowers on the on the far-left, inscribed MARY MARGARET CONOR. APRIL 28TH 1955. SEPTEMBER 14TH 2005. DEVOTED WIFE, AND MOTHER.
"I miss you Mamo," she lays flowers on the middle one, inscribed BETTY RILEY, BORN OCTOBER 18TH, 1929. DIED DECEMBER 2ND, 2001. Of Tender Heart and Generous Spirit.
"I remember when I was little," Alexis says to her father, smiling, "When I tried to call her Aunt Betty, she'd shush with a big warm smile, and insist I call her Mamo. She would say that's what I called my great-grandmother little girl and that's what you'll call me."
"She only got to hear Nicky, and I call her that, I wish she'd had the chance to hear it from Jack and Sean. "Thank you, dad. There are at least two faster routes down here that would've avoided using the Brooklynn Bridge, but you made sure we did."
"It wouldn't be a proper trip to Bay Ridge without it," Rick responds, then sees his daughter with an odd look on her face that he can only call a sad smile.
"In Manhattan," she says, "I was the girl whose mother walked out on her. You and gram were great, but still it felt lonely…you know. Then I'd cross that beautiful bridge into Brooklynn, and I'd everything changed. I have this huge family. It didn't feel as lonely. It felt safe."
"Believe me, I know the feeling" he responds, then sees his daughter's face turn from sadness to a flash of anger, "What are you thinking about Pumpkin?"
"Mom," She replies calmly but with anger undertones, "Her daughter is kidnapped, and her world doesn't stop or even slow down because she's filming her big break role. Her daughter is rescued, and she doesn't even bother to visit to see if I'm alright.
"Just calls to says she'll visit as soon as the filming is wrapped. That was weeks ago. She's been doing publicity tours and parties to promote her big break. I wonder if she'd have shown for my funeral. Of course she would, why give up the free publicity."
"Alexis, don't talk that way."
"You know what's funny," Alexis continues, "All the time Volkov had me, in my head, I called out for you, gram, Uncle Frank, the rest of the family…even Beckett, but I can't remember thinking about her. Isn't that what you're supposed to do when you think you might die, call out for your mom?
"But I called out for Mamo and Aunt Mary, and when I just about given up, I could actually hear them, what they said to me because mom missed a birthday, Christmas or whatever, when I thought maybe there was something wrong with me because my mother didn't want me.
"You're a Riley…a Conor…a Reagan…and there is nothing wrong with you. Don't ever forget that little girl. We are your family. You will always be loved and wanted. I could also feel them telling me to stay strong and not give up hope that one way or another you'd find me."
"I know," Rick nods, "They used to say the same thing to me when I wondered if my father new about me but didn't want me. I could practically feel them telling me not to give up trying to get you back because they'd kick my ass if I did."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Merry Christmas, Happy Boxing Day, and hope you have a great New Year.
First: NO Rick didn't do anything nefarious to cause the guy's stroke.
He was old, greedy, and scared. It was just karma.
I'm not one for spoilers, but I felt I had to put that one out there because I don't when I'll be able to follow up verification in the story.
Second Fun fact:
Boxing Day is a holiday traditionally celebrated the day after Christmas, on December 26th. It has its origins in the United Kingdom and other Commonwealth nations, including Canada, Australia, and New Zealand.
The name "Boxing Day" comes from the tradition of giving gifts or "boxes" to servants, tradespeople, and the less fortunate. In the past, it was customary for wealthy families to give boxes of food, money, or other gifts to those who had served them throughout the year.
Of course, over time, Boxing Day has evolved into a day for shopping, with many stores offering post-Christmas sales and discounts. In some places, it is also a day for sporting events, such as football matches or horse races. Commerce must continue :-)
Though the specific customs can vary, Boxing Day generally focuses on relaxation, family time, and giving.
Never forget that in this season, we honor a special family who weren't well housed, well warmed, or well fed.