Papa Jack Chapter 22

Surrounded by rare volumes about emblems, heraldry, and family crests, Richard grows increasingly frustrated. He's found slight similarities to what's on the mysterious ring, but nothing that wouldn't turn up in hundreds of other places. Laying aside a particular weighty reference, he wonders if he's on the entirely wrong track. Perhaps the crest has no familial significance at all but serves another purpose.

To an action writer, the obvious possibility would be that the ring's a weapon of some kind, containing poison to dump in a drink or inject with a deadly needle. However, CSU's examination turned up nothing the least bit lethal or even temporarily annoying. Historically, rings have been used as seals. In some fiction, they are even used as keys. In an era of retinal and palm print scans, a key seems less likely, but a seal? Could a ring be used to verify the authenticity of a communication or a shipment? The more Richard considers his seal idea, the more likely it seems. A seal could be used to ensure against interception by law enforcement. It could also be used to guarantee that stolen goods were suitably processed to become untraceable – or that a drug shipment is uncompromised.

Unfortunately, if the ring does serve as a seal of some type, that gets Richard no closer to the identity of the murderous Mr. Doe. It might, however, be a clue to someone further up the organizational chart. Someone had to order rings like that, and the number of sources capable of producing them is limited. Rather than being individually crafted, they would be cast to precise specifications for whichever operatives would employ them. If CSU can identify the exact alloy used, that would further winnow down the list of possible suppliers. Richard needs references from a different section of the library – and he needs to call Beckett. He also needs to talk to his father.

"Seals used as identification on contraband shipments? Is this research for a book, or are you trying to help out narcotics cops now?" Jack queries his son.

"Neither one. I'm still working with Beckett. But the guy she shot in the incident that's all over the news was wearing a ring that doesn't match any kind of historical pattern I can find. So I was wondering if that might be its purpose."

"Son, I am still continually amazed by your imagination. But it's possible. Legitimate drugs and other, uh, sensitive shipments are identified by computer-readable tags these days. It takes specialized equipment to generate those tags. A ring and some sealing compound would be simple, quick, and probably as effective. So, this guy that Beckett took down, did he have any wax or anything that could be used as a seal on him?"

"I don't know," Richard admits. "But I can find out."

Kate runs her finger down a list of John Doe's personal effects. "He didn't have much on him, Castle. The labels were even cut out of his clothes. There was a couple of dollars worth of change and $500 in bills in his pocket. Oh, this might be it, some stuff described as a waxy red substance."

"Did the lab analyze it?" Richard asks.

"No. I guess they were overloaded enough already. But I can put in a request."

"How long will that take?"

"I don't know. But Lanie's been dating a criminalist down there, on and off. She might be able to sweet-talk him into expediting it."

Richard's eyebrows ripple. "If that criminalist has all the usual male equipment, I wouldn't doubt it." He surveys the contents of Kate's desk.

"Looks like you dug yourself out from under the paper avalanche. What are you going to do now?'

"Go through Raglan's and any other cop's reports of similar robbery homicides going back a few years."

"Through Bracken's time as a DA?" Richard asks.

"If Raglan is involved, that would make sense."

"Beckett, by now, you know how fast I can read. Let me help."

A spark glints in Kate's eye. "I was hoping you would ask."

Slumped in his chair after skimming through a large stack of so-far useless files, Richard suddenly sits straight up. Beckett, I think I've got something!"

"What?"

"A cop named Gary McCallister, isn't he Raglan's partner?'

"Yeah, he is."

"McCallister investigated a robbery homicide at one of those 'We buy gold' places, Erickson's Jewelry Exchange. Erickson handled money in a metal cage but was killed outside of it while running a test to check if some gold was real or not. He was old school. He splashed acid when he fell – made a mess of him and the crime scene. A bunch of gold jewelry, some crowns, and a few gold bars were stolen, according to Erickson's inventory. Gold was very popular on the street at the time."

"Still is," Kate notes. "That crime could have been random."

"Except that none of the stolen gold showed up any place, not at pawnshops or anywhere handling the metal. I can understand if the killer wanted to add some bling to his personal collection, but having all of it disappear is consistent with what we're seeing now. The operation just expanded to include gemstones and electronics."

Kate presses her fingers to her lip. "That's possible, Castle, especially considering McCallister's involvement. I'd like to talk to him."

"Are you allowed to do that?" Richard asks, "I mean, with your restrictions?"

"I am if I ask him to come in for a friendly chat. He could say no, but it would look suspicious if he did. And if he's involved in something illegal, the last thing he'd want is to look suspicious."

"And if he isn't, there's no reason for him to say no," Richard figures.

Kate winks. "No, there isn't."

As Kate invites McCallister to take a comfortable seat in the interview lounge, Richard distributes coffee. McCallister inhales appreciatively. "We don't have anything near this good at the 23rd. I should drop in at the 12th more often."

Kate smiles. "The captain is always saying we should keep up good cross-precinct relations. I'm sure you know about the attempted robbery homicide at Nielson's."

McCallister nods. "You're quite the newsmaker, Detective Beckett. You make the department look good. We can always use more of that."

"Yes, we can," Kate agrees. "But I'd look a lot better if I could figure out who our perp is and if he has any friends in the same line of work. Years ago, you investigated a robbery homicide at Erickson's Jewelry Exchange. You remember it?"

McCallister winces. "Hard to forget that one. Acid spilled all over. My eyes stung just walking in. But I don't know how I can help you. We never caught the perp."

"I know," Kate acknowledges. "But none of the stolen gold turned up either. Was that unusual at the time?"

"Unusual?" McCallister repeats, fingering the edge of his jacket. "Maybe, a little, that nothing was pawned or anything, but you know certain people establish their status with how much gold they own. Whoever took it might have decided to keep it."

"You're probably right," Kate says, "But, with a case this public, the pressure's on to follow every lead, no matter how improbable." Getting to her feet, she extends her hand. "Thanks for coming in, Detective McCallister."

"For this coffee, it was worth it," McCallister declares.

Richard watches as the elevator doors close behind the older detective. "Do you believe him, Beckett?"

Kate shakes her head. "Did you see how nervous he got when I mentioned the disappearing gold? He knows something. I need to figure out what."