Papa Jack Chapter 46
A lively bar trivia game is in progress in a corner of The Old Haunt when Richard takes a seat at a table with Manny Brixto. With the patrons absorbed in the competition, no one except a barmaid named Maria even glances at the writer's entrance. Maria quickly strides over to take Richard's order. "Hey, Castle, what can I get you?"
"Steak fries and whatever's on tap, Maria, with triple the tip if you don't mention I'm here."
"Got it," the server agrees with a knowing smile before turning to Manny. "And you? Another Shirley Temple?"
Manny looks at Richard. "You buying?"
"Yeah, sure, of course."
"In that case," Manny announces, "another Shirley Temple with extra cherries, and I want fries too, but the curly ones."
Maria makes a notation on her pad and walks rapidly toward the bar.
"So, Manny," Richard says, "before you completely overdose on red food coloring, I need some work done."
"What are we talking about here, Castle?" Manny inquires. "Sketching out some scenario for your next book?"
"More like a hypothetical. Suppose for a minute, some assassin loaded his car trunk with weaponry of some kind. A cop saw him enter a building where he kept his cache, but she didn't actually see him stash the weapons in the car."
Manny's lips curl crookedly upward. "Ah, so it's a lady cop. A hot lady cop?" His hands trace an imaginary curvy figure in the air.
"Yeah, a hot lady cop, but that's not the point," Richard returns. "Could someone exceptionally skilled in the art of lockpicking and stealth get into the trunk, snap a picture of the weapons, and get out again without leaving a sign that anything happened?"
"Castle, you're looking at someone exceptionally skilled enough to do it. But you know that. Five thousand, and I'll need to know the time, place, and which car I'm supposed to hit."
"The time is either before eight pm tonight or between eight and eight tomorrow. The place is a street in Manhattan. I'll give you the rest of the details when I have your agreement."
"That's a pretty tight timeline, Castle."
"And five thousand dollars is a lot, even for speedy service. So, do we have an agreement?"
"We do," Manny confirms, wincing at a wrong answer floating over from the trivia competition. "Man, what an idiot. Who wouldn't know that Sylvester stalks Tweety-bird?"
"Someone who doesn't spend half their time watching Looney Tunes. Still, just imagine how many boxed sets this job will buy you."
A dreamy grin spreads over Manny's face. "Yeah, and the new golden collection just came out."
While Kate keeps her gaze steady on the door Coonan will use to exit his building, Richard's attention rarely strays from the rearview mirror, angled so the he can see the cars parked at the curb behind Kate's unit. Coonan's Marquis is four cars back, barely in view. But if Manny approaches, Richard will know it. He'll know the rest when Manny sends him photos.
Manny never appeared the night before – not that Richard had given him much time. Richard fully expects the skilled thief to complete his assignment today before Kate is off-duty. He just wants to make sure nothing goes wrong – like Coonan leaving before Manny can get there. He didn't really expect Manny while pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk was at its height, but by now, most workers heading out for work are there already, and there's a lull in shopping and errand-running.
As if cued to Richard's thoughts, a figure appears behind the Marquis. Manny's hoodie prevents Richard, or anyone around, from seeing much of his face. There's not much else for Richard to see either. Manny bends over the trunk with a tool in his hand. It springs open almost immediately, obscuring Richard's vision of whatever else Manny is doing. Richard hopes that's taking pictures. After a brief moment, the hood closes again, and Manny strolls casually away down the sidewalk toward the stairs to a nearby subway station.
Richard is tempted to tell Beckett that the deed is done, but if questioned under oath, she'd have to admit to knowing about it. Best to wait until Manny can print out whatever pictures he took and deliver them to Richard. Then, it will be time for Beckett to spend more time at the loft. Maybe Richard will even make dinner for the two of them, something even more enticing than hamburgers. He's been practicing a pasta carbonara that is pretty damn good – at least he thinks so. Hopefully, the entrancing detective will too.
Manny spreads out photos of an open duffel on the table in Richard's loft and points to the contents. "Quite a collection, probably enough to take down a small army or at least a hit squad. This jerk-off think he's some kind of Rambo?"
"You've got the jerk-off right, but I don't know what he thinks," Richard says. "You zipped up the bag again, didn't you?"
Manny rolls his eyes. "This isn't amateur hour, Castle. And speaking of which…."
"Ah, of course." Richard pulls an envelope from inside his shirt pocket. "$5,000, fresh from the bank."
Manny lets out an eerily accurate imitation of Roadrunner's triumphal "Beep! Beep!" Nice doing business with you, Castle."
"Great! Now get out of here! The lady could be arriving any minute."
With a congratulatory smack on Richard's back, Manny beeps again and trots toward the door.
Richard gives a low whistle as he opens the door for Kate. "You clean up nice, Beckett."
Kate's eyes sweep over Castle. "You're not so bad yourself. And what am I smelling? Is that bacon?"
"One of the ingredients of pasta carbonara. Is that a problem?"
Kate smiles up at Richard. "No problem at all, Castle. I just wasn't expecting it. So, any other surprises?"
"Well, maybe. You want to see my etchings?"
"Your etchings?"
"They're in my office."
Kate throws Richard a skeptical look. "Castle, I spent hours researching in your office. I never noticed any etchings."
"Prints of etchings, actually. I was having them framed and just put them up. Wanna see?"
"All right. I'll bite," Kate agrees with a shrug. "Show me your etchings."
Castle leads the way into his office and sweeps his hands toward several newly hung renderings of scenes from cities in the 17th and 18th centuries. Kate stares at the detail in one labeled "The Stonemason's Yard." "Castle, this is incredible. Who's the artist?"
"Canaletto. His detail was fantastic, don't you think? I've been considering writing a sci-fi book with time travel in it. I thought these might serve as an inspiration."
Kate nods. "I can see how they could."
"Tell you what," Richard offers. "You take your time enjoying them while I get dinner on the table. And I've got some nice wine if you'd like some."
"That would be great, Castle. Thanks."
After Richard leaves her alone, Kate moves back in forth in front of the etchings, studying them from different angles. Finally, she spies the pictures, definitely from the 21st century, laid out on Richard's desk. A duffel bag, clearly ensconced in a car trunk, is bulging with rifles, pistols, ammunition, and assorted grenades. Clearly, Coonan has his contract, and it's a big one. Now, she has to catch him in the act but stop him before he can carry his assignment out. Pulling that off won't be easy, not easy at all.