Papa Jack Chapter 40

"So," Beckett asks, driving her unit toward the midtown building housing Coonan's Freedom Schools office, "did you talk to your anonymous source?"

"I did," Richard confirms. "Apparently, a certain federal agency tasked with operating off American soil was aware of Mr. Coonan. I sent you a link to the heroic narrative described in his bio. What he didn't mention was that he became a merc after he was kicked out of special ops. He also didn't mention that he went into business selling poppy products, and I don't mean the lapel poppies commemorating veterans. My deductions lead me to believe that he might have used Watch and Prosper, the video business he operates, to ship drugs back to the States. It would have been risky, though. If a drug-sniffing dog from Customs had caught an opioid scent from one of his shipping containers, he'd have been exposed. So, it would have been in his best interests to join forces with Bracken to transport drugs to the States as well as serving as Bracken's skilled and willing executioner."

"It's a big leap from videos to Bracken, Castle. It could be hard to prove, and without a tie to Bracken, there's no tie to my mother's murder."

"There might be another one," Castle offers. "Coonan's charity is suspected of committing fraud. So far, no one's had more than suspicions. But if your mother was looking into Simmons' drug operation, is it possible she stumbled onto the Coonan connection?"

"She was up in Washington Heights a lot. She talked to a lot of victims of drug trafficking. It is possible."

"Which would give Bracken double the impetus to send Coonan after her and Coonan the motivation to take the assignment."

Kate swallows against the tightening in her throat. "But Castle, except for Coonan's military record and his sketchy charity, everything else is supposition. The world is full of Dicks. We have no proof that Dick Coonan ever even met Bracken. What about the other merc, Cedric?"

"No online bios on him. But my source was able to uncover some chatter. He was let go from the military for medical reasons – read that as a psych discharge."

"So, another merc?" Kate questions.

"Uh-huh. His name is Cedric Marks. He worked for a time in Afghanistan, guarding opium shipments from being seized by the Taliban. The theory was that the Taliban was trying to force the farmers into complete dependence on them by depriving them of anything but the most meager income. That's as far as the intelligence went, which would make sense if Cedric went to work for Bracken over here. He is a top marksman and highly proficient in the martial arts, which would make him an excellent hitman and/or enforcer."

Kate's palm smacks against the wheel. "Damn! Either one of them could have murdered my mother. Did your source tell you anything else?"

Richard hesitates for a second, recalling the rest of his conversation with his father. "Um, not relating to Coonan or Marks. Ooh, we're almost at Coonan's office. Maybe we can pick up on something there that will distinguish between Bracken's henchmen."

Kate sighs. "I hope so."

With the confidence of a man used to charming the public, Dick Coonan smiles from behind his desk. "Detective Beckett, Mr. Castle, please have a seat. What can I do for you?"

"Mr. Coonan, as you may have heard, the NYPD, in association with federal agencies, recently conducted a drug raid in Washington Heights," Kate says.

"I read about it in The Ledger," Coonan acknowledges. "It's good to know that you're working to keep drugs off the streets. But I don't understand what it has to do with me."

"We have to sift through a lot of evidence, much of it meaningless," Kate explains apologetically. "Something that might have been a reference to you or any number of other people with similar names came up. It's probably nothing, but I still have to check it out. Mr. Coonan, have you ever met a man named Vulcan Simmons?"

"No, and a name like that I'd definitely remember," Coonan claims.

"How about William Bracken?" Kate asks.

"The Congressman? Sadly, I've never had the pleasure," Coonan responds.

Richard gestures at the wall behind Coonan's desk. "Mr. Coonan, if the pictures up there are any indication, you do great work. The photos of your schools are very impressive. I'm sure a great many people admire your work. That handsome blond man in the picture of the gathering in front of one of your schools looks very familiar. Who is that?"

Coonan turns around to gaze at the photograph in question and shrugs. "I don't know, it was the launch of a new project. There were a lot of supporters there that day."

"It was your project. Didn't you meet and greet your visitors?" Richard questions.

"Of course, but I can't be expected to remember every name," Coonan insists.

"Well, it's funny that you wouldn't remember that one, Mr. Coonan," Kate notes, "because that is Congressman William H. Bracken, the man you said it would be a pleasure to meet. Anything else you might have forgotten?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about, Detective Beckett," Coonan returns. "And I have an appointment shortly. So, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave. But if you have any more questions, you can always give me a call."

Kate rises from her chair. "I'll do that, Mr. Coonan. Thank you for your time."

Richard follows Kate out of the office and back to her unit. "He was lying, Beckett."

"I know, Castle. I'm going to watch the building for a while until I can get a team on him. Want to hang with me?"

Richard glances at his watch. "I can't. I actually do have an appointment and just about enough time to get there. I need to grab a cab. I'll check in with you later."

"All right," Kate says.

Richard rapidly hails a taxi for his trip to meet Martha and Ms. Nekras at Loftview. His father had said that the name Nekras had popped up in association with an old KGB cell but wasn't connected to recent activity in the U.S. He explained that Nekras is a common name in Russia due to an ancient superstition. From what Richard gathers, the name refers to someone being ugly, and parents used it for their children to avoid tempting fate by calling them beautiful. From there, it came into common usage. Chances are that Richard's meeting with a Ms. Nekras is pure coincidence, but as usual, Dad warned him to watch his back. Richard will, but if he and Martha like the venue for their fundraiser, he'll agree to use it. They're pretty much down to their last decent option.

Martha Rodgers' cab pulls to the curb in front of Loftview at almost the exact moment the taxi transporting Richard does. Waving a greeting, he rushes over to help her from the back seat and offers his arm. "We're both right on time," he notes. "I hope Ms. Nekras is likewise."

Martha gazes around as they enter the lobby. "It's lovely down here. I hope they used the same interior designer upstairs."

Richard gestures toward a woman stepping off the elevator. "I think we're about to find out. Shall we take the next step in our grand endeavor?"

"Yes, Richard," Martha declares, "we shall."