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Conference Room
Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport
Monday, 13 May 2013, 8:05 A.M.
"Rick," Kate says softly, absentmindedly dropping her bags.
"Do you need anything else, Ricky," Diana Barrigan smiles at him, "The room is well insulated so don't worry about shouting. It also as a private loo if anyone feels ill."
"I'm good for now Dee, thank you," Rick smiles at her.
Kate noticed the exchange of warm smiles and pet names, not liking it one bit. Meredith calls him Ricky. The little voice in her head reminds her.
"I'll grab a seat outside in case you need me," Diana replies.
"This won't take long," Rick nods to her, "Kate's interview with the Attorney General's Task Force is at 10:00, wouldn't want her to be late."
"Just for the record Detective, you're an idiot," Diana says with a contemptuous look as she exits the room leaving Kate and Rick alone to stand there in silence.
She's not stupid, she knows there are other elephants in the room, but all she can think is, "She called me an idiot! And
"What London casting couch did you find her on," Kate speaks first after a moment, crossing her arms, "Does she know how much trouble she could be in for impersonating an FBI agent?"
"Diana's from Manchester," Rick counters, "And she is an FBI agent, a good one. She's also a good friend so watch the tone."
"Wow, she called you an idiot, and he's defending her to you," The little voice points out.
"How good a friend?" she glares.
"Jealousy," he scoffs, "Really, that's your go to move here?"
"No," she tries to cover, "I was just wondering if she's the one who told you."
"She didn't tattle on you," he responds, "And I didn't snoop through your things or otherwise violate your privacy. I'm sure that's your next accusation."
"He's different," Kate's little voice notes, "You've never see seen that suite before, but it's more than clothes. His tone and mannerisms are different. He seems so serious, controlled, and calm like… when he questioned Douglas Stevens."
"No, I've seen this before, and it's nothing like the way he was with Stevens," Kate says to herself, "He's covering his hurt and anger by putting up this front. It's just an act."
"Except this time," The little voice retorts, "It's actually a little scary."
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Office of the Police Commissioner
14th Floor
NYPD Headquarters
1 Police Plaza Path,
New York, NY 10038
Captain Victoria Gates looks up as the door to the Commissioner's office opens and she sees Frank Reagan escorting Alexis Castle out.
"Thanks Uncle Frank," Alexis Castle gives him a big hug.
"Any time," Frank replies, "And remember what I told you. Listen to him first."
"I will," Alexis nods, "And tell Pop we'll have a poker rematch soon."
"And I think he'll want something a little less cutthroat," Frank chuckles, "After the trouncing you and Nicky gave him, Jack, and Sean last time."
"We had to," Alexis smiles, "Too much sugar isn't good for them, and those three have no self-control. We needed to reduce their candy stashes."
"Go on, get with," he chuckles, going back into his office without sparing a glace for Gates.
"Oh hi, Captain Gates," Alexis smiles warmly extending her hand.
"Ms. Castle," Gates replies hesitantly but politely, taking the offered hand.
Uncle Frank? Gates thinks to herself as her entire life, well her career, flashes before her eyes.
"I want to thank you again for all you did to find me, and I made sure he knows it too," the redhead says nodding towards Frank Reagan's door, "And I think it's okay if you call me Alexis."
"You're welcome again, Ms.…Alexis," Gates smiles as she realizes the young girl is throwing her a lifeline of sorts with the public endorsement.
"And don't worry, I understand," Alexis adds, "There are times, my dad could drive Gandhi to kill."
Gates has to stifle a laugh.
"Bye Abagail," Alexis waves to the detective as she walks away.
"Bye Alexis!"
"Baker," Frank Reagan's voice comes through the intercom on Baker's desk, "Baker do have the information on the Captain Block matter?"
"Yes, sir, I do," She responds.
"Good," He responds, "I'll deal with it after I speak with Captain Gates, please show her in."
"Yes, sir," Baker responds before standing and turning to Gates, "Captain, if you'll follow me."
As Victoria Gates complies, her stomach is doing somersaults.
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Detective Floor
12th Precinct
Detectives Javier Esposito and Kevin Ryan both finish reading Larry Brown's column with a look of shock, as is most on the floor.
"This has got to be some kind of gag," Esposito reads it again, "There's no way Castle got 100% on the Detective's exam when he was fourteen."
"It wasn't like official or anything," someone says, "Ricky's got like a genius I.Q. We thought it be fun to see how'd he'd do on the Police Officer exam.
"When he blew through that, we just kept going with the Detective's, Sergeant's, Lieutenant's, and Captain's. Breezed through them all."
The voice belonged to a uniformed Italian American Sergeant. At 5' 7" and about fifty, his friendly features, jet black hair, and bearing gives him a taller, younger look.
"Ricky?" the two detectives say in unison.
"Aren't you two cute, like an old married couple." The Sergeant smirks, "Yeah, Ricky, that's what we called Castle when he was a kid."
"What do you know about this, Renzulli," Esposito scowls.
"I started out at the 12th," Renzulli replies proudly, "Worked at other houses, but like Lassie, I always come home.
"I was here when the whole thing with Hindley went down, and those two started hanging around. Heck, to them, this is their house. You're just renting."
"Their house?" Esposito's getting increasingly agitated, "Seriously?"
"You read the column," Renzulli smiles, "A whole lot of brass current watched those two grow up here. Take it up with one of them, starting with the old man himself."
"He's really tight that with The Commissioner?" Esposito asks.
"With the whole family," Renzulli responds, "He's like another son. I mean Brown said he'd helped bring down the guys behind Joe Reagan's murder."
"And nobody thought to mention any of this?" Ryan asks.
"Castle asked us who knew to keep it quiet," Renzulli explains, "Ricky's like the other Reagan kids. He won't ask for special treatment, won't accept it.
"Alexis Castle is like a granddaughter to the old man, but when she was taken, you didn't see him storming around down here."
Before they could react, an email chimed in from the Duty Sergeant,
Captain Gates at 1PP until further notice. Wants Castle found now!
"We're both going to die," Esposito says deadpan.
"Gates can't blame us for this," Ryan suggests.
"She'll find a way," Renzulli laughs, walking away.
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Office of the Police Commissioner
"I apologize for making you wait, Victoria," Frank Reagan greets her at the door, "But Alexis' visit was a surprise."
"Is everything alright, Sir," she responds, "It hasn't been that long since Paris."
"To Pop…my father," Frank Responds, "She's his first great-grandchild as far as he's concerned so, if he had his way, he'd watch her 24/7, but the rest of the family is guarded optimistic, and she says she's holding up okay."
"That's good to hear sir," Gates nods with a smile.
"Please have seat," he gestures to one of the three chairs in front of his desk.
"Thank you, Sir," Gates says taking the one on the far left, closest to the door.
As Regan takes his seat, Gates can only think, first great-grandchild…first grandchild…that would make Rick Castle…oh crap.
"Moving on, let's get to why I asked you here," Frank continues, "Did you happen to see Larry Brown's column this morning?"
"Yes, Sir," she replies.
"You didn't come off looking too good," Frank responds, "Nearly falling for a conspiracy to frame Mayor Weldon for murder is bad enough. On top of that, the general public is now well aware Councilwoman Taylor, mayor's political rival, was the driving force to get you the 12th."
"I oversaw that investigation by the book," Gates argues, "We followed the evidence like any other case."
"It wasn't any just another case," he counters, "It was the Mayor of New York City. Everything had to be as above reproach as possible. You should've recused yourself."
"I didn't do anything wrong or improper," Gates argues, "Any investigation will show that."
"I'm sure it will," Frank replies, "But just as with the mayor, the very accusation is enough to convict in public opinion. Instead, now the press will be talking about how you dismissed Rick's warnings for a political agenda."
"Well, Mr. Castle is hardly unbiased," Gates replies indignantly, "Considering how close he and the mayor are."
"At one of Rick's boarding schools," Frank counters, "His only real friend was an older kid, Damien Westlake, who took Rick under his wing, kept other kids from bullying him. Rick felt he owed him big.
"Before you took over the 12th, Westlake was accused of murdering his wife. Rick was taken off the case for being too close, but he wouldn't stop trying to prove his friend was innocent.
"As it happened, Westlake didn't kill his wife, but during Rick's investigation, he discovered Westlake had arranged his father's murder twenty years earlier and turned his friend in."
"I see sir," Gates nods, understanding that the Damien Westlake example negates any argument that he can't control his bias towards his friends.
"Do you know the difference between an error and a mistake?" he asks, "And they are not synonyms in this context. And yes, it's one Rick uses a good deal."
"Alright, Sir," Gates responds, "What is the difference."
"Anyone can make an error," Frank explains, "But it only becomes a mistake when that person refuses to correct it. Your error was in how you evaluated Rick Castle, relying on gossip and assumptions instead of information that was easily available to a capable detective."
"And I take it that my mistake is that I never corrected it?" Gates asks rhetorically.
"Yes," He confirms, "Instead, you continued to double down on your initial evaluation in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary."
"Sir, it wouldn't have been a good use of my time," she tries to argue.
"Knowledge precedes victory," he adds, "Ignorance precedes defeat."
"One of Chief Kent's favorite sayings," Gates responds, "Are you implying that Mr. Castle beat me because he found out all about me."
"In an afternoon," Frank responds, "And you do seem to be getting the worse of any exchange. But that's the least of the issues you need to concern yourself about."
"What can be worse than that?" Gates responds, realizing the bad karma she may have just evoked.
"This," he explains slowly, "Rick came to me last week wanting to sever his association with the NYPD."
"May I ask why?" she schools her expression, not knowing whether to be frightened or happy.
"Rest easy, it's not because of you," he responds, "As Commissioner, all I can say is that it's personal. I'm sure the details will come out soon enough. But as the guy who helped raise him, I'm fighting the urge to assign Detective Beckett to walk a beat, alone, in East New York."
"I see," she replies, "So is this already done? I haven't seen him in days."
"Try not to look so happy," Frank responds, "Especially since I've managed to talk Rick out of it, but I had to agree to his terms."
"What terms?" she asks apprehensively.
"Larry was correct in his column," he replies, "For a long time now, I've felt Rick hasn't been used to his full potential. So, I'm promoting him."
"How can you promote him?" she counters, become agitated, "He doesn't even officially work for you."
"However, you want to phrase it," he smirks, "I'm putting Rick in charge of Confidential Investigations for the Commissioner's Office."
"You're making him your fixer?"
"I really hate it when people call it that, but yes," he replies, "However, he insisted he still work out of the 12th instead of 1PP."
"Oh, God no."
"I'm appointing Assistant Deputy Commissioner," he continues, "That's the equivalent of a two-star chief. And I expect you to treat him as such."
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Outer Office
Office of the Police Commissioner
Two men in their early fifties, walk up to Abagail Baker's desk.
One is a well-built though slightly pudgy civilian, about 6' 2", dressed in an expensive dark suit.
He looks like an old Irish Pol with a ready smile and boyish face under a
a full head of white hair that still has some dark streaks.
However, it's the other skinnier, shorter, by about four inches, one who causes Baker to stand since the bald Italian American is in a uniform with four stars on it.
He never seems to smile.
Both their cellphones keep buzzing causing them to check.
"Detective Baker," the uniformed officer greets her with perfunctory head nod.
"Chief Arbogast."
"Abagail," the civilian greets jovially.
"Deputy Commissioner Moore," Baker responds.
"Does he have time for us?" Moore asks.
"He's actually in with Captain Gates right now," Baker replies sitting down, "And he told me to expect both of this morning because of their topic."
"Oh, I see," Moore replies.
"He instructed me to ask you to wait until he calls you in," she adds.
"Do you know how long he'll be?" Arbogast asks.
"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FREAKING MIND!" they hear Gates yell from inside the office.
"I don't think it'll take that much longer," the ever-unflappable Baker answers calmly.
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Conference Room
Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport
"How'd you know I was here?" Kate says softly, eyes downcast.
"My father told me," Rick replies, "Call it one of the dozens of belated birthday and Christmas presents he owes me. After Paris, dad had CIA put up alerts if anyone snoops around my family or loved ones online.
"And he got an alert when the Task Force ran my background check," she surmises.
"He has a really low opinion of the Task Force," Rick adds, "Calling them keystone cops trying to be the Mission Impossible team. He thought I should get you to think twice about it. Imagine my surprise."
"It was Wednesday, wasn't it?" she guesses, "So, you haven't been writing since then, have you?"
"I didn't say I was writing," he answers, "I said I was working on a new plot. Quibbling, I know, but you didn't follow up either. I guess you were happy not to have to face me."
"Why couldn't talk to me back in New York?" Kate pushes
"I was giving you every chance, every second to come clean on your own," Rick explains, "I guess home does spring eternal. Think of it as a variation on Henry V, act 1 Scene II, when the King gives the traitors a last chance to redeem themselves."
"Henry V?"
"My favorite Shakespearean character," he responds, "And like King Henry, I had to confront you once you didn't."
"Then why not just wait for me to come back," she responds, "We could've talked about it."
"Because I know how it would play out, Kate," he replies, "You'd get the job and present it to me as fait accompli, then give me an ultimatum. I could either accept it or I'd lose you because you're going one way or another. If I argued, you'd just end the discussion by saying it's your life. Been there, heard that.
"So, you decided to recreate the Cloud City dining room scene from The Empire Strikes Back."
"As to the Star Wars homage, nice catch by the way, I thought our break-up should be memorable as befitting a great romance."
"Break-up?" Kate feels all the air leave her lungs like she'd been punched in the gut, "No, no, no. He can't mean it."
"It would be inevitable?" Rick replies, "Isn't that what happened with Sorenson when he tried the same approach on you."
"It's not the same," she says then thinking, "He's bluffing he has to be. Sure, I understand he's mad, but it can't just end in some antiseptic conference room at the airport.
"Growing up," Rick responds, "A great cop taught me that good police officers make lousy liars except when it came to bad guys…and too often, themselves."
"I have to get him to see," she thinks to herself, "We're both at fault here, we've both lied, him bigger than me, he's always come around when he sees that."
"Which cop told you that," Kate holds up the rolled-up the newspaper, "You seemed to have a lot of them in your life."
"Henry Reagan," Rick then eyes her hand, "And you can stop strangling that paper, I think it's quite dead now."
"Where you behind this?" she points at him with the paper.
"You think the column just happened to appear this particular morning," Rick smiles, "Coincidences take a lot planning."
"He's quoting Derek Storm, not good," The little voice tells her.
"How'd you convince Larry to print this?" she snaps at him.
"Didn't have to," he responds, "Larry's known me since I was a kid and already knew it all. He' been wanting to write it all up for years as he has a low opinion of how you and Gates have treated me. but didn't as a favor to me. But I decided to give him the green light."
"Why, would you do that," she says softly as hurt crosses her face, "Do you realize how this makes me look?"
"I'd thought it would save me some time explaining things," he shrugs.
"Save time!" Kate scoffs loudly, "You just wanted to make me look bad to the Task Force, sabotage my chances at getting the job."
"Good point, but a moot one," he replies, "You already sabotaged your chances fourteen years ago."
"And what is that supposed to mean?" she asks warily.
"Dad gave me a copy of your background check," Rick continues, "The results had some information from back then that could raise some uncomfortable questions."
"Fourteen years ago, I was in college," she counters, "What could I have done then to sabotage the interview."
"It wasn't so much a what so much as a who?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" her temper was rising.
"Rogan O'Leary," he replies, "Remember him?"
"How did they know about Rogan?" her eyes go wide, "And what does this job have to do with a loser I dated for few weeks while I was at Stanford?"
"How big a looser?"
"He was a compulsive liar, a degenerate, and a thief," Kate snaps.
"Well, he's made a life's work of it," Rick responds, "The Task Force doesn't hire people with career grifters as spouses. You're not interviewing for the Gap."
"You're not making any sense!" Kate raises her voice.
"Remember the trip with him to Vegas," he recounts, "And going through the drive-up chapel…you're married to him."
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Author notes:
I should mention that I totally ripped off the whole perfect score on the Detective's exam at age 14 from the TV Show "Psyche" as well as the part about being able to hit existing holes in a paper target on the range.
From an early age, Sean Spenser, the main character, was conditioned by his cop father to be a detective and had a great aptitude for it. He also acted immature and took nothing seriously, but in a way to the extreme compared to Castle.
And the "error vs mistake" bit is from Grand Admiral Thrawn. I actually do have an autographed copy of "Heir to the Empire," where Thrawn makes his first appearance. Timothy Zahn, the author, was doing a book signing at Disneyland in 1993.
The way Frank Reagan refused to directly use his authority on the search for Alexis any more than any other kidnap victim reflects the character's behavior on the show.
In a 2015 episode of Blue Bluebloods, Frank Reagan's granddaughter, Nicky, is kidnapped by a serial killer and Frank refuses to give into the urge and suggestions by his staff to the same.
When one of his staff says they can get ariel units involved, Frank refuses since they don't do that for other kidnap cases.