Papa Jack Chapter 23
Richard barely makes it through the door of his loft in time to answer a ringing phone. He has little trouble recognizing Jim Beckett's voice. "Richard, I've completed the paperwork concerning your fundraiser. There are some details I'd like to discuss. Could you make it to my office tomorrow morning?"
The writer hesitates for a moment. For the last few hours, he hadn't done much but watch Beckett fidget impatiently while awaiting lab results. A meeting with her father would at least be doing something productive. The contrariness of the universe would also make it more likely that Beckett would get what she's waiting for when out of his view. "I can do that."
"Nine o'clock?" The lawyer inquires.
"That will work," Richard agrees. The timing will give him at least an hour in the morning to write before hailing a cab for the ride uptown.
Jack studies a readout of recent intelligence gathering in New York City. As usual, most of it pertains to the activities of various "attachés" supposedly doing legwork for ambassadors or consulates. It does, however, note that the man the agency has been watching as a lead target of a potential terrorist attack, Richard Castle, has been trailed on multiple occasions by an unidentified person. Said person is assumed to be an unfriendly but has shown no signs of committing an overt hostile act. Jack's eyes blaze. Some sonofabitch is following his son. Still, if the bastard wanted to try to take Richard down, he would have done it already. The plan is clearly for something bigger than that, much bigger. The cell remnant would want to take out as many people as possible, and damn it! The event Richard is planning with Martha would have enough star power for a bombing to capture not just the attention of the U.S. but much of the rest of the world. Jack figures that there's probably time before it happens, months at least. He can check that out with Richard. Still, with revenge as a driving force, anything is possible.
Richard has been in lawyers' offices before. He's just famous enough and rich enough to need them to guard his assets. Sometimes, it seems like there's a grifter around every corner, but he usually knows them when he sees them. Hell! He's written about some of their schemes. But he still needs lawyers now and then to do the legal maneuvering required to keep them out of his life. Those lawyers all have fancier offices than Jim Beckett does – much fancier. However, the free client snack buffets in the glass-walled conference rooms aren't really free. They come out of billable hours.
As far as Richard can tell, the offerings at Jim Beckett's office are limited to coffee with tiny sealed cups of creamer or packets of sweetener. Still, the coffee's a lot better than what used to be available at the 12th Precinct. And if he wants a bagel or muffin, he can buy one at the bakery down the block.
From his seat in a plain but serviceable guest chair, Richard studies the contents of the lawyer's desk. Though somewhat neater, the arrangement of papers and files reminds him of Kate Beckett's desk at the 12th. Father and daughter both appear to immerse themselves in the details of a matter – excellent behavior for both a detective and a lawyer. "Shall we get down to it?" Jim Beckett inquires.
Richard inclines his head. "Please."
"The tax statuses of Support Starving Actors and Support for Starving Writers are in order. However, since this will be a joint fundraiser, you'll have to keep track of not only where the money comes from but to which entity it goes. That's not just for the I.R.S. The contributors have a right to know where their money ends up."
"Damn right they do," Richard agrees. "If I contributed to everyone who claimed to have a worthy cause, I'd be living in a cardboard box. Still, the struggling actors and writers do genuinely need help."
"And you'll be giving it to them," Jim Beckett assures him. "So, considering that this is a joint venture between your organization and that of Ms. Rodgers, have you decided on a division of labor: selecting the venue, staffing, that kind of thing?"
"Martha and I were planning on working together," Richard explains.
"Of course, but all the expenses will have to be appropriately allotted, or you could be faced with a nightmare later. You'll have to decide who pays which bills and the appropriate distribution of contributions to cover them. Documenting those decisions ahead of time and sticking to them can save you a world of hurt." Leaning back in his chair, Jim shakes his head. "The distribution of contributions can be particularly sticky. I've seen lawsuits…."
"I get the picture," Richard acknowledges. "I'll get with Martha to see about hashing all that out. And I've already lined up an accountant who can handle the writers' side of the affair. Any other potholes I should be avoiding?"
"Nothing that's come up so far. Now that the publicity has died down a little, how is the casework going for you and Katie?"
"Slowly," Rick admits. "When I watch procedurals on TV, it seems like the lab work is back in 30 seconds, or at least by the end of the commercials. In the real world, not so much. But your daughter is absolutely determined to solve what could turn out to be a huge case."
"I'm sure she is. Katie's never gone for the easy win – not even in checkers. She always wanted to end up with the grandest victory she could achieve." Jim's fingers tighten on the arms of his desk chair. "I just hope…."
"She's gonna get these guys!" Richard declares. "She'll be fine. Better than fine. She'll be fantastic. And I'm going to dive back in with her as soon as I get to the 12th Precinct."
Standing, Jim extends his arm over the desk. "Stay in touch."
Over a firm handshake, Richard assures him, "I will."
Richard strides quickly off the elevator towards Kate's desk in the bullpen. "Beckett..."
Kate holds up her hand, cutting him off as she takes in the report appearing on her computer screen. "Castle, the lab analyzed the red stuff from John Doe's pocket. It's a slightly different formula than anything in their database, but this says that it is closest to commercial sealing wax. They also found traces of it on Doe's ring."
Richard's eyebrows jump toward the lock of hair falling over his forehead. "Wow! I was right!"
"Seems that way," Kate confirms. "The bad news is that since the wax wasn't in the database, we don't have a manufacturer or supplier for it."
"Does the lab report say how it differs from standard formulations?" Richard queries.
"Um-hmm. The report says it has a Sienna pigment that's only available in Cyprus."
"Cyprus!" Richard repeats. "All sorts of interesting international banking transactions take place in Cyprus. I researched them for some of my books. Our ship guys could easily be sending funds through there. Maybe they also decided to use Cypriot pigment in the wax to guard against false seals. The sources of the Sienna would be extremely limited. We should be able to track the distributor."
Kate stretches her fingers over her keyboard before attacking the keys. "Tracking the distributor. On it now."