There are two kinds of folks
who sit around thinking about how to kill people:
psychopaths and mystery writers.
I'm the kind that pays better.
Who am I?
I'm Rick Castle.
Castle.
I really am ruggedly handsome, aren't I?
Every writer needs inspiration. And I found mine.
Detective Kate Beckett.
- Beckett. - Beckett.
- Nikki Heat? - The character he's basing on you.
And thanks to my friendship with the mayor,
I get to be on her case.
I would be happy to let you spank me.
And together, we catch killers
We make a pretty good team, you know?
Like Starsky and Hutch.
Turner and Hooch.
You do remind me a little of Hooch.
? I want to trade... ?
Oh, excuse me, baby. Oh, boy.
Ah, home sweet home.
Can we get Midnight from the kennel now?
We'll get him as soon as we're settled, okay?
I'm hungry.
Let mommy get situated,
then I'll make you a bowl of hot cereal, okay?
- Okay. - Come here.
Honey, you said you were gonna wash the dishes
before we left.
Didn't you make the bed before we left?
Someone's been sleeping in our bed.
Someone's been sleeping in my bed, too,
And he's still there.
What? Baby, go wait in our room.
Is he asleep?
Oh, yeah!
That's what I'm talking about.
Darling, must you talk so loud? Some of us are still waking up.
What's all the excitement about?
Only the "New York Ledger's"
annual ten most eligible bachelor's list,
And guess who's on it. Who?
I don't know, but he must be the president of
the really-good-looking club. Huh. Ranked number 9.
Weren't you number 7 last year? Yes, and thank you
for pointing out my shortcomings once again, mother.
Ah, that's my job.
Luckily all my friends are beyond print media.
What about this is embarrassing?
Nothing. It's the secret dream of every 16 year old
to have their father crowned
one of the most available hotties of the year.
Well, according to this,
your father may not be on the market.
You didn'tead the blurb here? Mnh-mnh.
"though claiming to be single, Richard Castle is rumored to be
romantically involved with NYPD Detective Kate Beckett"...
What?!
"the inspiration for Nikki Heat,
"the heroine of his latest best-selling novel.
Bachelor number 9 may not be eligible for next year's list."
What? Where did they get that? Wait. Let me see.
I didn't say anything like that in my interview..
Detective Beckett is not going to love this.
Well, maybe she'll just laugh it off.
How is it, for a man who is surrounded by women,
that you know so little about us?
Speak of the devil.
Okay, either Beckett's calling because there's a dead body
or because she read the article. Pray for murder.
Good morning.
Dead body. I'm good.
No one else had access to it, your maid...
No. Or anything like that? Okay.
Your daughter's school, they knew about...
they knew about you guys going out of town?
What?
What, what?
So what have we got?
Your guess is as good as mine. John Doe, no I.D.
Approximate time of death is between 9:00 last night
And 1:00 this morning.
The family found him after returning from vacation.
Apparently he made himself quite at home.
How so? Well, we found
his food in the fridge, toiletries in the bathroom,
even some of his clothes in the dryer.
A real-life goldilocks.
Mm-hmm. It looks as though he even slept in the parents' bed.
Well, of course.
That one was too hard,
and baby bear's bed was just right.
Looks like he struggled.
Unsuccessfully.
Here. You see at? It's a needle mark from a syringe.
Probably was injected with something
that stopped his heart.
I'll run toxicology.
as soon as I can pinpoint a C.O.D., I'll give you a call.
Great. Thank you.
Mm-hmm.
Hey.
You know who kills with syringes?
Mad doctors and b-movie nazis.
Why not just use a gun? Guns are loud.
I've seen squatters in abandoned buildings,
but nothing like this.
And then someone sneaks in and kills him with a needle.
Weird. Mm-hmm.
How are the Dysons doing?
Mom and dad are pretty shaken up.
Little girl doesn't really know what's going on.
Did anyone know they were leaving town?
Uh, just people from work, daughter's school,
stuff like that. We're running it down.
Hey, check this out.
Dysons found this in the kitchen,
said it's not theirs.
This is here.
Yeah, weird, huh?
Why would he take pictures?
So he could put everything back the way he found it.
He was hoping nobody would know that he was here.
Almost as though he was hiding.
All right, have a tech pull the memory card.
See if any of the deleted photos can tell us who he is.
Ooh, she is gonna kill him. He's dead.
So, Castle, is it true? Are you finally off the market?
You guys, if either of you breathe a word of this...
I swear, I will make you pay.
Montgomery's up to speed. Anything back from
the Dysons' workplace or the kid's... School?
I ran background checks
on everyone who knew the family was gonna be out of town.
So far everyone's come back clean, but I'm gonna keep digging.
Anything on the canvass?
A whole lot of nothing. No doorman on the building.
None of the Dyson's neighbors noticed anything out of the ordinary.
Shocker. I've lived in my spot eight years.
I couldn't pick my neighbors out of a lineup.
Well, that's Manhattan for you.
Nobody notices anything unless it affects them directly.
Unless it's in the paper. Excuse me. Beckett.
Great. Okay, good.
Got a hit off of John Doe's fingerprints.
Douglass Bishop. He's in the system.
Douglass Bishop...
arrested once ten years ago--
Misdemeanor drunk and disorderly.
Charges were dropped. Besides that, he's clean.
All right, find the next of kin.
After they I.D. the body, maybe they can tell us
what the hell he was doing in that apartment.
I got the results back from the lab.
He was injected with an anesthetic--ketamine.
Special "K"? He was killed by a club drug?
Not in this dose.
Whoever shot up Mr. Bishop was not looking to get him high.
Gave him enough to put down a horse.
The victim's sister is here.
I'm Detective Beckett.
Thank you so much for coming down.
Is--is that him?
Is that Doug?
That's what we'll need you to verify.
None of this makes any sense.
I mean, why would Doug be living in these people's apartment?
He's got his own place out in Hoboken.
Is it possible that your brother was in trouble,
that he was hiding from someone?
No. Everybody loved Doug.
Did he owe anybody money
or have any financial problems?
Not that I know of.
I-I mean, his hours at the travel agency
got cut back,
but he was getting by.
Travel agency.
Maybe that's how he knew the Dysons were out of town.
But if he were in trouble,
he would've raided his scuba fund.
Yeah.
He was always saying that someday when his ship came in,
he was gonna get himself a little--
A little scuba shop down in Jamaica.
Doug was saving up for it.
He would put a portion of his paycheck
in an account every month.
When was the last time you saw your brother?
Not since the holiday party.
Doug's agency threw it out by the airport,
which is where Stan works, so we all went.
You just never think something like this is gonna happen.
So you don't make time.
Okay, thank you.
That was the travel agency.
If Doug was hiding from someone,
he wasn't doing a very good job.
Apparently he hasn't missed a day of work until yesterday.
What about the Dysons' trip?
They booked it through a different agency.
The scuba fund? Didn't touch it.
So he wasn't in hiding, he didn't owe anybody any money
and he had no discernable way
of knowing when the Dysons would be out of town.
Hey, Beckett.
The geeks managed to pull the deleted photos from
our squatter's memory card. Care to take a look?
Stuff on counters, inside cabinets.
That's not the Dysons' place.
He's done this before, but in other apartments.
Maybe he does it for the thrill.
Maybe someone found out and got mad.
Yeah, but he'd still have to know when they were away.
Unless Doug Bishop isn't our squatter.
That's definitely not Doug Bishop.
Who is he?
He's probably our killer.
? Castle 2x14 ? The Third Man Original Air Date on January 25, 2010
-- Sync, corrected by elderman -- -- for addic7ed.com --
What kind of psychopath
Takes pictures of himself and his murder weapons?
Some killers keep trophies.
In his defense, he did delete these photos.
.45 with a silencer. Wonder what he had lined up for this?
Nothing good. Has C.S.U. pulled the prints
off of the camera and personal effects?
Yeah, they don't match Doug Bishop
and they're not in the system.
Which means he doesn't have a record.
Well, if Doug wasn't our squatter,
what was he doing in the Dysons' apartment?
He had to have known the squatter somehow.
If this squatter was so meticulous
about putting things back, why'd he leave all this for us to find?
You're right. It--it makes no sense.
What? No grand theatrical theory to spin for us?
Honestly, I-I got nothing.
More importantly, we don't have any prints or leads.
How are we gonna catch a ghost?
By finding out how he haunts.
If we can figure out how the squatter knew
his marks were out of town, find something that connects him
to the other places that he stayed,
then maybe we can narrow down the field.
We'll ke going through these.
With any luck, we'll find something that can tell us
whose apartments these are. Okay, great. Thank you.
Hey.
What are you doing?
I'm looking to see who won the game last night.
Oh, we won.
Do you even know what game I'm talking about?
Sure I do...
the big game.
Okay, Castle. What's going on?
Yo, Beckett. Check this out.
He took a picture of the inside of someone's medicine cabinet.
You can almost make out the name on these prescription bottles.
Have I.S. take a look at it,
see if they can enhance the photo.
Oh, God.
He went through my medicine cabinet?
Please tell me he didn't go through my diary.
Oh, we're not sure, Ms. Langford.
Are you sure you don't recognize him?
Yeah, I'm positive.
And you don't know the Dysons? No.
The only person that knew I was even out of town was my mother.
Everyone else thought I was on sick leave.
You won't tell my boss that, will you?
Did you notice anything unusual when you returned?
Oh, that totally explains it.
What?
My faucet. For weeks, I've been asking my super
to fix my leaky faucet, but he never came.
and then when I got back, it was fixed.
So I just assumed that he finally did it,
but then later, when I saw him on the stairs,
He didn't even know what I was talking about.
The squatter fixed your sink?
Yeah. And there was this bottle of, um,
like weird strawberry champagne in the fridge.
And I just assumed that one of my friends had left it
during a dinner party I had before I left, but...
none of my friends would've bought such a--
cheap bottle of booze. Exactly.
So he makes repairs,
leaves hostess gifts-- he's the gentleman squatter.
Who killed a man, so don't make him out to be
the houseguest of the year.
Thank you for coming in, Ms. Langford.
By the way, that photo in the paper did you no justice.
You're much better looking in person.
There's a picture of you in the paper?
So are you the Detective girlfriend?
I'm sorry, the what?
He... is such a catch.
Don't.
Show me. Now.
"romantically involved"? "rumored to be."
What did you tell them?
Nothing! Why would I do that?
Do you have any idea what this does to my reputation?
Your reputation? What about my reputation?
I am just as upset as you are. I'm on your team.
This is shoddy journalism,
and I am two seconds away from canceling my subscription.
My subscription.
Do you have any idea how hard it is to be a female cop?
The last thing I need is for you to give them more ammo to--
Yes, the "New York Ledger," please.
What are you doing?
Langford said that the only person
who knew she was on vacation was her mother, but that's not true.
If she was actually pretending to be sick,
the last thing she'd want is newspapers piling up at her front door.
She had the papers held.
Yes, your subscription department, please.
Anyone with access to vacation hold information would know
exactly who's out of town and for exactly how long.
Yes, I would like to verify vacation hold information
on two of your subscribers, please.
Who am I? I... I...
I sometimes forget I'm not actually a cop.
I don't.
Hi. This is Detective Kate Beckett with the NYPD.
I'd like to speak with your supervisor, please.
I can't really say he looks familiar,
but you gotta understand, we have hundreds of employees.
Well, how many of them had access
to vacation hold information?
Well, you got about a dozen in subscriptions,
another handful in billing,
and, of course, the newspaperboys themselves.
I'm gonna need to see a list of their names.
Sure. Follow me.
Donna.
Richard. What are you doing here?
Uh, you're not mad about number 9, are you?
I told my editor to keep you at 7.
No, no, it's not that. I don't care about that... much.
It's--I just--why did you say I was dating Detective Beckett?
Oh. Well, I just assumed.
You kept bringing her up during the interview.
No, I didn't.
Sure you did. You went on and on about her.
"Beckett said the funniest this, she's the best that."
Really? I did that?
Last year all you did was talk about yourself.
Well, Donna, I am very, very single.
Really? Because if you aren't involved,
bachelorette number 3 asked about you this morning.
Did you see her? No?
Or are you one of those people who never goes below the fold?
Oh, I go below the fold.
It's just, lately I've been very busy
with my second Nikki Heat novel, and I nev--oh, my God.
Mm-hmm. Amanda Livingston.
So do you want her number? 'cause she wants yours.
Hey, we got a match.
Mickey Carlson, delivery boy.
Both the Dysons
and Michele Langford are on his route.
Delivery boy. Knew it.
Anyway, he didn't show this morning.
Another carrier had to cover.
You know, there's no address on this application.
Do you have one on file?
Nah. He never gave us one, and now I know why.
It says there that payday is tomorrow.
Does Mickey do direct deposit or does--
Pick up his own check? Like clockwork.
Payroll comes in at 10:00 in the morning,
Mickey's here at 10:01.
A delivery boy
with a silencer and syringes full of ketamine?
His job's just a front
for whatever business he's really in.
Here's a list of all of the vacation holds on his route.
He could be squatting at any one of them.
He's armed, so make sure your teams use extreme caution.
Castle and I will set up at the paper in case he shows.
If he's out there, we'll find him.
It's ironic, you know.
People put in vacation holds to avoid break-ins.
Good use of irony.
So who's your friend at the paper?
Oh, Donna Vincennes?
Mm-hmm. She's the one who wrote the blurb about us.
There is no "us."
I know that.
Did you tell her that?
Yes, I did,
Which worked out, actually, really well for me.
As it turns out,
most eligible bachelorette numero tres--
very interested in meeting me.
Once the info-tainers get ahold of her with me,
they're gonna forget all about you and I.
I can just see the headlines now--
"9 meets 3 at dinner for 2."
Believe it or not,
there's a lot of women in this town
who like the idea of being romantically linked to me.
I have no life.
No, Mr. Bishop has no life. That's why he's on my table.
I need a date.
What?
A date. A... guy. A... man.
You're always trying to set me up with people.
So here I am. I'm game. What do you got?
Okay.
What's gotten into you?
I get so wrapped up in work, all I want to do
is go home where it's quiet, and I'm so tired of quiet.
I want... loud.
Okay.
I have the perfect prescription for you.
Bradekker?
No, no, baby. That's Brad Dekker.
That firefighter I wanted to set you up with.
Is he cute? He was Mr. July
in last year's New York firefighters calendar.
July. Huh. Mm-hmm.
They always put the really hot ones in the summer months.
Exactly.
Well, then should we say around 8:00?
All right. Me, too.
Good night, Amanda.
Ahh. Sorry I missed dinner.
There's quiche if you're hungry.
Sweet. Or savory, actually.
So... how was your day?
I had a truly great day. I got pulled out of class
and called to the vice principal's office.
Why? What did she want?
You.
Here's her number. Her number?
Oh, and my german teacher, fraulein Sonnenberg,
Wanted me to tell you, auf deutsch,
"du hast sex-appeal."
She's two years from ordering off the senior menu,
but here's her number, too.
Fraulein Sonnenberg?
Too old? That's okay 'cause my friend Sloan
thinks you're "real choice."
She's 17, but she'll be legal in 3 months.
Hey. Maybe we could double.
Oh, you hate me a little bit right now, don't you?
Just a little.
What did Beckett say?
Oh, I'm sure she'll be fine with it.
Maybe even a little flattered.
Flattered?
I was gonna...
Eat that.
10:15. Mickey's a no-show.
Patience, Castle.
Hey, have you ever heard of Drago?
Yeah.
It's on the "Ledger's" top ten most romantic restaurants.
It's pricey and impossible to get a table,
unless you know someone.
Why?
Just looking for a place to go.
What, like on a date? Yes, on a date.
Why do you sound so surprised? No, I--
No, I just, uh, never figured you for a Drago kind of girl.
Really? And what kind of a girl do you figure me for, Castle?
I... It--
Oh! There's your boy
Mickey Carlson, I'm--hey!
Hey!
Mickey Carlson... Oh!
You're under arrest for the murder of Douglass Bishop.
This is the ketamine that you used to kill Doug Bishop.
Whoa. No, no, that's not mine.
Pretty smart not using the gun, Mickey.
That would've been too messy.
That's not my gun. Look, I didn't kill anybody. I swear.
I'm not a criminal, all right? I was just squatting there.
Well, technically, squatting is a crime.
Yeah, a victimless crime, especially the way I do it.
If you didn't kill Doug Bishop,
then how did he end up dead in the Dysons' apartment?
The guy from the Maitlands' apartment
must have killed him.
And who are the Maitlands?
The people whose apartment I stayed in before the Dysons.
Okay, why don't you start from the beginning,
and take us through it from there.
Maitlands put a week hold on their paper,
which I was psyched about, 'cause they live on East 27th,
which has amazing indian restaurants.
So I pick the lock, I start taking pictures
so I can return everything to its original state.
So, I'm taking pictures when I find these syringes on the table.
Kinda weird, but I'm thinking, maybe one of the Maitlands
must be diabetic or something, right?
So I keep going. Then bam--it hits me.
What's a gun with a silencer doing out on the bed?
And next to it, I see all this gear.
Gear?
Mountain climbing equipment.
At this point, I seen enough. I decide to get outta there.
But just as I'm grabbing my stuff,
I hear the door unlock.
And I barely reach the closet in time.
I could see 'em through the slats. It was three of 'em.
It was, uh, this guy, a plain-looking dude
and tough-looking S.O.B.
Man, he had a scar on his face looked like a crescent moon.
A crescent moon?
I know, right? It's crazy.
Anyway, they head into the back.
I take the opportunity
to grab my stuff and get the hell outta there.
I end up at the Dysons'. Take a load off, I get comfortable,
when outta nowhere, the front door opens,
and him and his friend come in.
Who, crescent-moon scar face?
No, the--the other guy. The plain one.
They grab me and demand that I give them their phone back.
Their phone?
Are you making this up as you go?
No, no, no, see, in my race to get out of the Maitlands',
I must have grabbed one of their jackets,
which had their phone in it, but I don't know how they knew.
Newer phones have gps. They could track it on the web.
Huh?
Well, I didn't want their phone and I tried to give it back.
The guy pulls out a syringe and is ready to stab me with it.
But thank God for Doug. Oh, man.
Doug says, "I didn't sign up for murder."
Then they start arguing, and then the syringe guy says,
"we've got 3 mil on the line. He's seen too much."
Next thing I know, they're fighting.
So I ran outta there.
I'm just saying,
It's a really good story. Come on.
Mysterious bad guys, crescent-shaped scars,
hiding in a closet?
It sounds like fiction because it probably is.
Well, that's too bad. He's a nice guy.
So was Jeffrey Dahmer.
Didn't stop him from eating people.
Where are we on these Maitlands?
They're on a cruise ship, but we're getting
the ship's security to track 'em down right now.
All right, have 'em track faster.
I need their permission to get into the place.
Can't we just get a warrant?
On the word of a possible murder suspect?
Not exactly probable cause.
But once we disprove Mr. Carlson's story,
we'll be able to press charges for murder.
Beckett.
Oh, hi, Brad.
Uh, uh, no. No, no, no, it's not too last-minute.
Actually, my plans for tonight just fell through.
Who's Brad?
Mm. Must be Lanie's friend.
You know him?
Yeah, met him once. Good guy.
Fireman. I could be there in a couple of hours.
He was in the F.D.N.Y. calendar. Chiseled good looks.
Rock-hard abs.
Oh, and get this-- once during a fire,
after saving the parents and the kids,
he went back in for the puppies.
See you then. Did she just flip her hair?
I'm telling you, bro, puppies...
Gets 'em every time. Puppies.
Yes, Mr. Maitland? What?
You're smiling. So?
Good-bye. Hey. We got the Maitlands.
We're good to enter. They're calling the super right now.
Okay, let's go.
Stay out here, please sir.
We'll check the back. Okay.
Well, surprise, surprise.
Nothing here to verify Mickey's version.
Oh, wow. Look at this.
Did you find something?
Yeah, it's an old-fashioned dumbwaiter.
You don't see these around anymore.
Genius, too. The Maitlands have converted it
into a hidden stereo component cupboard.
I bet they have an R.F. Remote somewhere.
We're not here to admire the place, Castle.
How can you not? I mean, look at this place.
This apartment is prewar, late 1800s.
Oh, you see this molding?
That is the original wood. Gorgeous.
I bet the bathrooms have marble wainscoting.
You're such a metrosexual.
Yes. Well, better than being a pinup boy.
So you heard? And it's pinup man, Castle.
Pinup... Man.
Yes. Well, have fun with your hose jockey
whilst I go out with nuevo york's
most eligible bachelorette number 3.
Oh, I guess that means she must be slumming it,
her being number 3 and you being a lowly number 9.
What number were you again? Oh.
Place is clear.
No gun, no ketamine, no mountain climbing equipment.
There is nothing here.
Yes, there is.
An icebox, circa late 1800s.
You see, before the invention
of modern household refrigeration,
People used to keep their perishable items in a box
that held ice.
Hence--an icebox.
It's not an open house, Castle.
Oh, the Maitlands were very clever.
They converted this into a cupboard.
Meanwhile, it's right next to their fridge--aah!
Ooh!
I did not expect that. Crescent-shaped scar.
Looks like there was some truth to Mickey's tale after all.
His name is Anton Francis. Mr. Francis here,
not wanting to waste such a sinister looking scar
decide to round out the stereotype
with a laundry list of criminal activity,
including fencing stolen property,
stickups and a smash and grab.
Do we have time of death?
Yes, between 1:00 and 4:00 am this morning,
Which rules out Mickey Carlson.
We verified that he stayed in a homeless shelter last night.
So if Mickey was telling us the truth,
then Doug and Mr. Francis
clearly got more than they bargained for.
All by the murderous hand of their partner--
The guy who killed Doug with the syringe--
Our mysterious 3rd man.
Let's get photos of all of Anton's known associates and former cell mates.
If Mickey saw his face, he should be able to I.D. him for us.
So how does a man like Douglass Bishop--
with no criminal record--
get involved with hardened criminals?
Simple. They needed him.
It seemed convenient to me that the Maitlands were out of town
when all this went down, so I did some digging.
Turns out that cruise they're on,
they won it in a contest.
Only there is no contest.
A phony award letter?
Yeah, when they got that and the tickets,
they figured, why look a gift horse in the mouth.
So guess where the tickets came from.
Doug Bishop's travel agency.
So the cruise was just a scam
to get the Maitlands out of town.
The letter says that the cruise had to be this week.
Why this week? And why the Maitlands?
Well, unless our bad guys are into prewar architecture,
there's really nothing in that apartment that's worth anything
except for the audio/visual equipment,
which was still there. Why go through so much trouble
to get in the Maitlands' apartment?
Maybe what they wanted wasn't in the Maitlands' apartment.
Maybe they were gonna rob someone else,
but just needed access.
The audio/visual equipment.
Access.
The Maitlands live on the second floor.
Running perpendicular to them and whatever's below
is the old dumbwaiter shaft.
In "Gathering Storm," I had Derrick Storm
climb up the dumbwaiter shaft to bypass the Czech assassin
in order to save the Swiss ambassador's daughter.
Maybe our bad guys are using the dumbwaiter
to bypass the security of whatever's below them.
Which would explain the ropes and the climbing gear.
So what's below the Maitlands' apartment?
A pet shop.
Why don't you come down and have a look at them?
I have the largest selection of reptiles in the city.
They're my specialty.
My pleasure.
Okay. Thank you. Bye-bye.
Ah, how is it? Can I, uh, can I help you?
And you're sure nothing was stolen?
Ya. I mean, what is there to steal?
This dumbwaiter has been opened recently.
It was open?
Mickey told us his attacker said there was millions at stake.
Mr. Du Preez, what's on the other side of that wall?
28th street. Eastside Bank and Trust.
A bank heist.
It looks like the plan was to cut into the back wall
to get into the bank vault on the other side.
We called the bank manager, the FBI,
but our guys never made it that far.
What went wrong?
We don't know. It could've been greed, panic.
It looks like our victims might have been betrayed by their partner.
In the old days, you killed your partners after you got the money.
Any leads on this, uh, third man?
No. We had our squatter take a look at mug shots
of Anton Francis' associates, and we didn't find him.
What if the connection to the third man
isn't through scar face? What if it's through Doug?
The travel agent? I thought we went through him.
We did. We checked his family, his friends, his coworkers.
But not his clients.
Think about it. Maybe that's it.
The third man books a trip through Doug.
Doug starts talking, tells him about his dream
of owning a scuba shop in the islands.
The third man senses his frustration. That's his in.
He tells Doug it'll be easy.
It's a victimless crime, nobody will get hurt,
Insurance will pay,
knowing the whole time, if the police investigate,
they'll track the tickets back through to Doug, not to him.
The third man remains invisible so long as Doug is dead.
That almost makes sense.
Let's run Doug's client list for the past six months.
If anything pops, we'll show it to Mickey.
Okay.
You know, maybe I should cancel tonight.
You're gonna cancel on the guy
that risked his life for a bunch of puppies?
Sir, you know about my date?
Yes, and--and despite what you might think,
the world's not gonna end
just because you disappear for a night.
And if it does, I'm sure that those two can handle it.
Yeah. Go ahead. Yeah, I need the overtime.
Okay, but call me if anything turns up.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Have fun.
You see how ready she was to cancel on that date?
What's it to you, Castle?
Yeah, why do you care?
I'm just sayin'. Look out 'cause, uh...
Neither of those.
Hmm?
Mm. Look.
Oh, you're good.
Hey...
I know that this can be weird for you,
How parents aren't supposed to date.
I know you date, dad.
I know you probably do other things
that I am not going to think about,
and that we'll never, ever mention.
Fair enough. So... what's wrong?
I don't know.
I mean, I'm not gonna be here forever.
and then who's gonna look after you then,
Bachelorette number 3?
Slow down there.
Let's not go buying rings anytime soon.
It's just a date. I know.
And she seems nice and all, but... if that's who you date,
I mean, are you really gonna find happiness
with the kind of person who's a number on a list?
Well, I already have.
You're number one on mine.
Look, it's my job to worry about you,
not the other way around.
I'll be fine. Yeah.
That's what you said when you tried to deep-fry a turkey.
And we all know how that turned out.
I just don't want you to get hurt...
or burn your eyebrows off... Again.
?
I'm glad they grew back.
They're finally matching.
I've heard this place is impossible to get into.
Excuse me.
Ricky. Frankie! Come here.
It's nice to see you again. And you.
Um, your table will be ready momentarily.
Castle?
Beckett?
I take it you two know each other? Uh, yeah.
Brad, this is Richard Castle. We work together.
Uh, Amanda, this is Kate Beckett. We work together.
Hi. Nice to meet you.
Ah. What are you doing here?
You knew that I was coming here.
I knew you wanted to come here.
I didn't think you could get a table last-minute.
You got a table last-minute.
Yeah. I've got connections.
So do I. City Health Inspector.
Wow. Nice abuse of power.
So, Richard, you a cop, too?
No. He's a novelist who's been shadowing me
on my murder cases.
Oh, I do a little more than shadowing.
Your table is ready.
So you two working a homicide?
Um, a double homicide.
It's actually a rather tricky case because the killer is...
I like to call him the third man.
Very mysterious. It sounds like one of your books.
Yeah, it kinda does.
Anyway, he and his two partners...
Were gonna rob a bank,
only he turned on the other two and killed them
before they even finished the job.
I mean, it doesn't even make any sense.
Usually you'd wait until you got the money
before you double-crossed your partners.
I mean, they didn't even have the right equipment
to rob a bank.
Well, I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually.
You know, speaking of great mysteries,
I saw an incredible play off broadway the other night.
I just wish I could figure out
what they were doing with the ketamine.
Maybe it had something to do with the pet store.
You gonna eat that?
It's not like there was really anything to steal there.
Unless the pet store was just a front for something else.
Waiter. Could I have another glass of wine, please?
In which case, the owner might have been lying
when he said that nothing was stolen.
You want to have sex with me later?
I'm sorry. Would you mind if I made a telephone call?
Nah.
Thanks.
Um... the bathrooms are up by the front, right?
Pardon me.
Have you got something?
I was just having Ryan and Esposito
run something down for me.
The pet shop.
Yes! How did you know?
I was thinking the exact same thing
It's probably a front for something.
Okay, so they're gonna dig up
everything they can on the owner.
It could be that he's hiding something.
Right.
Well, I should get back to this date.
How's yours going?
Great. Yours? Fantastic.
Well, I'll, uh, see you.
The pheasant is amazing.
I'm sorry. That's the station.
Yeah. Go ahead.
Would you pardon me?
Bathroom again?
So what'd they find out?
Yo.
We ran the pet shop owner-- Noel du Preez.
He came up clean. Really?
What about in the past couple of days?
Anything unusual? The day before yesterday,
customs has him taking possession
of a half a dozen African gray parrots,
four baboon spiders
and two black-tailed pythons,
all from South Africa.
Wait a minute. Did you--
Did you say black-tailed pythons from South Africa?
Yeah. Why? Because black-tailed pythons,
also know as Indian Rock pythons,
are not indigenous to that area.
Why would they be coming from Africa?
Why do you care about some motherfreaking snakes
on a motherfreaking plane?
Because as a murder mystery novelist,
I am highly paid to think like a bad guy.
Here are a few fun facts about snakes.
They are cold-blooded, they swallow huge amounts,
and they digest their food very slowly.
Perfect for smuggling.
And it wouldn't be the first time.
If these snakes are coming in from South Africa...
there are two things in abundance in South Africa--
Racial hatred and diamonds.
Smuggling diamonds in live snakes.
Mickey's attacker said that there were millions at stake.
And the dumbwaiter goes right down into the pet store.
That's why the Maitlands' trip had to be this week.
They knew the shipment was coming in. And the ketamine--
was to dope the snakes
so they could take 'em up the shaft without a fight,
and then when we came to the store--
the owner couldn't say a word,
otherwise he'd implicate himself in smuggling.
So we find out who robbed him--
We find the third man.
Do they know they're finishing each other's sentences?
Have uniforms pick up the owner. We'll meet you at the store.
Hey, is this seat taken?
What should we tell them?
This is gonna be awkward.
They'll be okay.
Is the owner in custody?
Wife said he was here working late.
Place looks closed.
Okay, Castle, hold my purse.
Follow me.
Ready? Let's go.
Room all clear.
Here too.
Whoa!
NYPD! drop your weapon! Drop your weapon!
drop the gun! Drop your weapon! Drop the gun!
Get down! Down!
Hey. You okay?
Oh, yeah. Yeah, yeah.
It takes a lot more than that to scare me.
What about a big, hairy spider on your shoulder?
Yeah, that would do it.
I didn't know you were the police.
I have a right to defend my store.
Defend from who, Mr. du Preez?
According to customs,
you took possession of two black-tailed pythons.
Which is not a crime.
No, but black-tailed pythons are indigenous to India.
So why ship them in from South Africa?
My suppliers are there.
There's nothing illegal about my business.
Then where are the snakes?
They weren't in the store,
And we didn't find any invoices indicating that they were sold.
You know what we did find?
A color grader, a UV lamp and a carat weight scale.
All tools of the diamond trade.
So what happened, Mr. du Preez?
Because we think someone broke into your store,
came down the dumbwaiter shaft
and stole your shipment of diamonds.
Now that's your problem.
My problem is that they left two bodies behind.
Okay, fine. You don't want to implicate yourself.
I get it.
I'm simply gonna ask, who knew about the shipment?
Come on, Mr. du Preez. Don't you want us to find them?
Who knew? Who did you tell?
I told no one.
Mr. du Preez--
I picked up my cargo at the airport personally,
And I locked 'em in my office.
The next day, they were gone.
Do you recognize either of these men?
No. I've never seen any of them in my life.
It's the truth.
Robbing a smuggler. It's almost a perfect crime.
The victim can't go to the police
without admitting his own crime.
Someone knew that shipment was coming in.
Someone had it planned.
Where are we on Doug's client list?
We ran every client Doug ever had, and we got nada.
Just to be thorough, we showed their D.M.V. photos to Mickey.
None of them were our mysterious third man.
Well, it had to be someone du Preez would never expect.
Someone connected to his pet store in some capacity,
an old employee perhaps?
He would have to know when the shipment was coming in.
Yeah, someone who knew his timetable.
Maybe someone du Preez had sent to the airport previously
to pick up a shipment. Out to the airport.
What was that?
Run all of the paperwork from du Preez's last shipment--
Customs, fish and wildlife, shipping company, everything.
I want to know who knew what and when.
You think someone at the airport
caught on to du Preez's smuggling,
Decided to rob him instead of report him?
Not only that. I think I know who.
Mr. And Mrs. Kopek, thank you for coming in so late.
Please.
Oh, sorry it took so long.
Stan was at work when you called.
Oh, right.
You said that the last time that you saw your brother
was at the agency's party around where Stan works?
That's right.
Could you refresh my memory, Mr. Kopek?
Where is it that you work?
It--it's late.
Could--could you just please tell us what you found out?
Well, I didn't really put everything together
until I remembered
your wife's story about the party
at the airport.
What's this?
It's a customs form, Mr. Kopek,
authorizing the release of cargo
to a Mr. Noel du Preez,
signed by you.
Yeah. So? I-I work for customs.
What's-- what's the big deal?
What's going on, Stan?
I have no idea. Sure you do.
When you realized what Mr. du Preez was doing--
Smuggling diamonds-- you said to yourself,
"why should I give him up to those ungrateful bastards?
Why not just take care of it myself?" Stan--
then all you needed to do
was pull the import permits from fish and wildlife
to determine when the next shipment would be.
But you needed someone with connections
to fencing stolen goods.
And so you contacted Anton Francis--
A con man and an old high school buddy
who'd been in and out of jail for years.
The easy score was money to his ears,
but you needed to get the Maitlands out of town
for a couple of days first.
And that's when your brother-in-law Doug came in.
What did you do, Stan?
Did you play on his dreams, tell him he could finally afford
that scuba shop he always wanted?
Stan, what did you do?
Nothing. Nothing. I-I don't know--
Mrs. Kopek, your husband killed your brother.
That's ri-- Stan...
They're lying. That's-- that's ridiculous.
We have a witness, Mr. Kopek.
The squatter you tried to kill
identified you from a photo array
less than an hour ago.
Oh, God.
No, no, it was--it wasn't supposed to happen like this.
N-no one was supposed to get hurt.
I mean, Doug--he just-- he wouldn't listen.
And I-I didn't mean...
And--and Anton, he came after me.
He--that was self-defense. I'm not--I'm not a killer.
We have two bodies that prove otherwise.
It just got out of hand. Things just spun out of control.
Get him away from me. Honey, it's--
On your feet.
I did it for us.
It was all for us, baby.
This way.
And you guys thought I made the whole thing up.
I believed you the whole time.
So what--what happens to me now?
I'll go back to the holding cell
or am I headed to the tombs?
Neither. For your cooperation in the apprehension
of Stan Kopek, the A.D.A. Has agreed to a deal.
Five years probation for all your sins.
No jail time?
You have a shot at a second chance, Mickey.
Don't blow it.
I won't. Hey, thanks for everything.
Really, thank you. All right.
Whew.
Oh, man. I can't wait to go home
and just slip into a warm bath and-- I--
Don't. Please don't.
I was just going to say, I'm starving.
We left the restaurant before I had a chance
to finish my entree.
Oh yeah. Well, it wouldn't have mattered if you did.
The portions there were tiny. Ugh.
You know, Remy's is open all night.
They've got those burgers...
Oh, and those shakes...
Oh, why not? Mm.
So how did your date go?
She was kind of boring.
Didn't talk much. Oh.
Mr. July?
A little self-absorbed. Looked it.
Really? You can tell.
Some people just don't know how behave on a date.
Especially on a first date. Exactly.
-- Sync, corrected by elderman -- -- for addic7ed.com --