Papa Jack Chapter 48

Once Castle introduces his special guest, Detective Kate Beckett, and begins his reading, Kate does her best to fade into the crowd. She can't become too invisible. Coonan has to be able to spot her. According to Esposito, the hitman is lurking in a utility closet next to the ladies' room. Coonan has a knife as well as at least one gun on him.

After hours of waiting around and several cups of coffee, Kate can use a restroom trip, but she won't be using the one Coonan's watching until the crowd thins out. She has permission to access a small one reserved for staff. An inward smile brightens her face. Coonan can keep sitting in his hidey hole and waiting for his target to appear.

Richard Castle is, as he has been for over an hour, chatting with his fans and signing books. By Kate's count, he's on his third Sharpie. She's noticed him rubbing his shoulder as well as flexing his fingers several times. She wouldn't have thought of an autograph session as strenuous, but then, she's never done one. If Castle is tired or stiff, it doesn't show in the welcoming smile he gives each of his readers. No wonder they love him. No wonder she…. Kate mentally slaps her own wrist. Any attraction she feels to Castle is the last thing she should be thinking about right now. They need to get Coonan, and they need to do it without anyone else at The Strand getting hurt. That job's hard enough without personal distractions.

As noon approaches and stomachs begin to rumble, the line at Richard's table shortens until finally petering out to nothing. The writer stands and stretches, locking gazes with Kate. Hiding behind a tall bookshelf, Kate pulls out her radio. Esposito, you set?"

"Affirmative," the detective responds briskly.

"Ryan?"

"In place," Esposito's partner confirms.

"All right," Kate acknowledges, "Coming up to the target zone now." Approaching the public ladies' room with appropriately hurried steps, Kate pushes on the door and rushes in. She decides that while she's inside, she might as well take the opportunity to use the facilities. After a quick stop in a stall, she washes her hands and checks her face in the mirror. Lanie's been leaning on her to wear a little lipstick and maybe use some blush to highlight her knife-edge cheekbones. It's not as if Kate doesn't know how to do that and more to enhance her appearance. Thinking it would be easier than waiting tables, she spent the summer before she went to Stanford as a model. She soon found out there was nothing easy at all about holding a pose and obsessing over the tiniest flaw in your appearance. When she became a cop, she decided that aside from her choice of footwear, it would be better to concentrate on sharpening her physical prowess rather than fussing about her appearance. While on patrol, she'd surprised a number of jackasses who equated her gender with weakness. They ended up eating pavement.

Still, Kate's not about to fool herself that she can take down someone with Coonan's training. He may be only two inches taller than she is, sans heels, but he outweighs her by at least forty pounds, much of which may still be muscle. Esposito is anxious to nail the bastard. Ryan would also happily enter the fray. Kate isn't stupid enough to resist an assist. She finger-combs her hair out of her face and leaves the ladies' room.

Employing a tiny fiber optic camera that he passed through an almost invisible hole he drilled through the utility room door, Coonan watches the traffic in and out of the ladies' room. In the last five minutes, Kate Beckett is the only one who has entered. No one else has passed by either. He smirks about how long women can take primping, but he still expects Kate Beckett to emerge any moment. The faint click of her heels against the tile alerts him of her approach.

Coonan lovingly fingers his favorite knife, ready to be pulled instantly from its concealed scabbard. He lunges through the utility room door, using his momentum to knock Kate to the floor. As Coonan's knife is ready to plunge into Kate's back, Esposito rushes from his hiding place and forces the attacker back. The knife knocked from his grip, Coonan reaches for a gun.

The cocking of Ryan's pistol cuts through the air as he aims the weapon at Coonan. "Unless you want to die right here, I wouldn't do that."

Rising from the floor, Kate snaps handcuffs on Coonan as tightly as the ratchet will allow. "End of the line, Dick. Let's go!"

Castle's footsteps pound up a nearby staircase. "You OK, Beckett?"

"Never been better."

Kate smacks her black leather folder in front of her as she takes a seat opposite Coonan in Interrogation One. "Here's how it's going to play, Dick. No one will be buying your philanthropy BS anymore. We've already got you on trying to kill a cop. That's ironclad and, on its own, can send you away for 39 years to life. Add that on top of the fraud you've been pulling off, and a judge will be more inclined toward the high end. But, it's gonna get worse.

"As we speak, your knife is being compared by the best forensic pathologist in the state against the wounds that killed Johanna Beckett. He's using a brand new technique called computer tomography to generate a model of the knife used to stab her. Dr. Murray does a fantastic job explaining that kind of thing. And if your knife matches that model, a jury will eat up every word he says. Oh, and ballistics is checking your weapons for matches against any shootings. We're also looking into your participation in drug trafficking, including whatever deal you made with Johnny Vong.

"The thing is, Dick, you're f*. You have one chance of ever seeing the sunlight again, and that's to tell us everything you know about drug trafficking from Afghanistan and about your boss."

Coonan widens guileless blue eyes that have conned so much from so many. "My boss? I have no idea who you're talking about, Detective."

"Well, then, let me make it clear, Dick. I'm talking about William H. Bracken."

"Congressman Bracken? If you want me to flip on a congressman, I'll need more than a few years knocked off my sentence. I'll need full immunity."

Shaking her head, Kate laughs. "You think I'm going to ask the DA to give you immunity? You're dreaming, Dick. But here's my deal. You have until I get the report back from Dr. Murray to agree to tell me everything – and I mean everything – you know about drug trafficking, Bracken, Vong, Vulcan Simmons, Jason Marks, and anyone else you've ever done business with. If you do that, your lawyer can argue you've cooperated. If not, you're finished. I'll be on you like a ton of bricks for anything you've ever done to break the law, even jaywalking. And believe me, Dickie, you don't want that. You don't want that at all."

Richard turns to Montgomery as they stare through the window of Observation together. "She really is amazing, isn't she?"

The captain's balding head bobs. "I've seen a lot of cops in that room, but I've never seen one better. She could become the finest detective the NYPD's ever seen, Castle."

Yeah," Richard says, leaning in toward the glass. "I wouldn't doubt that for a second."