Serving Justice, Castle fanfic, 4/6
Title: Serving Justice
Rating: T
Spoilers: All aired.
Summary: A murdered judge causes Beckett and Castle to examine their own lives.
Four - a memory stirs
After the interrogation of Harvey Perry, Louisa Monroe seemed liked someone ridiculously easy to work with in the interrogation room… someone far too honest looking, far too normal. She was a doctor, had been for years, and she wasn't just your average doctor either, but a world-class neurosurgeon. There was something about that that gave Beckett the feel almost instantly that a woman that spent her job preserving life, protecting life; would be unlikely to have ended one. But she'd seen stranger things, and she never assumed anything, so she was sat in front of Louisa in the interrogation, ready for anything to be thrown at her.
"We've got more than one witness that saw you arguing with Natasha last night, Dr Monroe… got any explaining that to do?" she asked, her voice still calm, still delivering something not unfriendly, still trying to keep the woman feeling safe in the environment they'd put her in. Sometimes she had a feeling about the easiest way to get the truth out of someone, and in this situation it was keeping Louisa comfortable… keeping the suspicions about her from her, maybe making her slip on something she was saying, give them the evidence they needed.
The woman opposite her took a deep sniff and wiped her eyes fiercely, seeming to be setting her jaw before speaking.
"I was drunk…" she sighed, "I made a nasty comment at the table… I was sat with Natasha… and she bit back…" she looked off to the side, staring into thin air. "I should have remembered that, from high school… Natasha was never one to take someone insulting her…"
"What was your comment?"
"I can't remember exactly… I had too much to drink, I don't get to drink very much; I'm usually on call… it was something about motherhood… I think I said something about how Rachel was practically raised by Andrew… I'm infertile, and a baby's all I've ever wanted… and I've never been able to understand that… he brought that accidental baby up… when she was younger Natasha hardly had any interest in her…" she takes another deep breath, "… she never appreciated what she had, Natasha, she never saw that that was something beautiful, that accidental baby she didn't want anything much to do with… and it made me mad…" she looked slightly ashamed then, hanging her head a little, "… I say a lot of what I think when I'm drunk… I'm not the nicest person… Anyway, Natasha and I had an argument, and Natasha went upstairs… said she'd had enough of the evening - I think that was the last anyone saw of her…"
There was silence for a moment, Louisa staring ashamedly down at her hands, and Beckett, without even thinking, found herself looking into Castle's eyes, trying to catch how he read the situation, before she realised what she was doing and put herself in check almost instantly.
She knew the risks it held, and she would never do it fully, but there was something about Louisa Monroe that said to Beckett she wasn't the killer. She would always test it, she would always rule someone out completely, but sometimes she just had a feeling someone wasn't guilty, she read suspects well, she worked incredibly well in the interrogation. There was something about her, and maybe it was more than something, maybe it was more like a hundred things together, her job, the way she spoke ashamedly about the way she'd been to Natasha on her last evening, something inexplicable Beckett could read in her eyes.
"Would you provide us with a DNA sample, Dr Monroe, to test against the DNA we've found under Natasha Humphrey's fingernails… to rule you out?"
And that was the thing, in the end, that had Louisa Monroe bursting into tears, putting her head in her hands, shaking her head almost hopelessly at herself.
"You… you think I could have been Natasha's murderer?" she half-sobbed, "I'm…. I'm not that kind of person… I was drunk, I was rude, I was horrible to her in her last hours, and I'll always regret that… but I never would have hurt her, not physically. I never would have done that…"
"Dr Monroe, will-"
"I'll give you my DNA." She interrupted, an iron mask descending over her features, "So you can realise ever suspecting me of something that terrible was a mistake… Detective Beckett, it was a long time ago now…. But we were good friends in school, Natasha and I… I would never have hurt her…"
Beckett gave a nod, a small smile, "It's to rule you out, clear your name. And then you won't have to worry about it anymore…"
When Beckett and Castle got back to her desk, there was someone sat there, someone with long blonde hair and a frightened, looking younger than it was face, and an expression that Beckett had become all too familiar with for so many years of her life, that expression of longing for an answer. Rachel Dean gave the pair of them a small and half-hearted smile as they walked into her line of sight.
"I came… I came to ask you to try really hard to find whoever did this to my mother…" she started, and her voice was barely more than a whisper, her eyes filled with tears, "… someone ought to pay for something that bad… Dad and I… we'll be paying for our whole lives, in grief… and I want her back, and I'll never get her back… there needs to be someone to answer for something like that…"
And Castle watched, as if in slow motion, Beckett's face turn ashen pale, and her left hand grip the side of the desk, the whole situation far too familiar, far too reminiscent. It wasn't even as if she could offer her own story, with an ending that gave Rachel something she'd want… because she might have known more about her mother's murder now than she had for years, but she still didn't know all of it… she still didn't know everything… He could see her gritting her teeth, and he had known her long enough and could read her well enough to know that she was quelling nausea, she didn't have the stomach to bring words to her lips for a few minutes.
"We're trying our very best, Rachel." He said quietly, "Whole teams of us… and we're getting somewhere, we're getting there… Beckett… she lost her mother like this… she feels for you, she'll make sure we find whoever did this…" he swallowed, that was a liberty he'd taken, telling Rachel Dean about Johanna's murder, and he wished Beckett would meet his eyes, so he'd know if he'd ruined countless things or done something acceptable, but she wouldn't. She seemed to be finding the clear sky out of the window endlessly fascinating.
"Thank you." The girl whispered, and she stood up and walked away before either of them could come up with another word.
Beckett's eyes slid across slowly to meet his, and he couldn't help thinking for a moment how well he knew her now, to read exactly what she was thinking in those eyes. She gave him the tiniest, most solemn smile.
"Beckett." She answered her phone.
"It's Lanie… Louisa Monroe's DNA cleared… it's not her… but the DNA flagged someone up… a Ted McGarvey, his prior's nothing major, he punched a guy outside a bar last year… other than that we haven't got anything on him… he works in maintenance in the hotel, though, he would have been able to get access…"
"Brilliant." After Rachel Dean's plea for answers, her voice was slightly harder, her brow slightly more set. She needed to close this case and make someone pay, sooner rather than later. "Bring him in."
Rating: T
Spoilers: All aired.
Summary: A murdered judge causes Beckett and Castle to examine their own lives.
Four - a memory stirs
After the interrogation of Harvey Perry, Louisa Monroe seemed liked someone ridiculously easy to work with in the interrogation room… someone far too honest looking, far too normal. She was a doctor, had been for years, and she wasn't just your average doctor either, but a world-class neurosurgeon. There was something about that that gave Beckett the feel almost instantly that a woman that spent her job preserving life, protecting life; would be unlikely to have ended one. But she'd seen stranger things, and she never assumed anything, so she was sat in front of Louisa in the interrogation, ready for anything to be thrown at her.
"We've got more than one witness that saw you arguing with Natasha last night, Dr Monroe… got any explaining that to do?" she asked, her voice still calm, still delivering something not unfriendly, still trying to keep the woman feeling safe in the environment they'd put her in. Sometimes she had a feeling about the easiest way to get the truth out of someone, and in this situation it was keeping Louisa comfortable… keeping the suspicions about her from her, maybe making her slip on something she was saying, give them the evidence they needed.
The woman opposite her took a deep sniff and wiped her eyes fiercely, seeming to be setting her jaw before speaking.
"I was drunk…" she sighed, "I made a nasty comment at the table… I was sat with Natasha… and she bit back…" she looked off to the side, staring into thin air. "I should have remembered that, from high school… Natasha was never one to take someone insulting her…"
"What was your comment?"
"I can't remember exactly… I had too much to drink, I don't get to drink very much; I'm usually on call… it was something about motherhood… I think I said something about how Rachel was practically raised by Andrew… I'm infertile, and a baby's all I've ever wanted… and I've never been able to understand that… he brought that accidental baby up… when she was younger Natasha hardly had any interest in her…" she takes another deep breath, "… she never appreciated what she had, Natasha, she never saw that that was something beautiful, that accidental baby she didn't want anything much to do with… and it made me mad…" she looked slightly ashamed then, hanging her head a little, "… I say a lot of what I think when I'm drunk… I'm not the nicest person… Anyway, Natasha and I had an argument, and Natasha went upstairs… said she'd had enough of the evening - I think that was the last anyone saw of her…"
There was silence for a moment, Louisa staring ashamedly down at her hands, and Beckett, without even thinking, found herself looking into Castle's eyes, trying to catch how he read the situation, before she realised what she was doing and put herself in check almost instantly.
She knew the risks it held, and she would never do it fully, but there was something about Louisa Monroe that said to Beckett she wasn't the killer. She would always test it, she would always rule someone out completely, but sometimes she just had a feeling someone wasn't guilty, she read suspects well, she worked incredibly well in the interrogation. There was something about her, and maybe it was more than something, maybe it was more like a hundred things together, her job, the way she spoke ashamedly about the way she'd been to Natasha on her last evening, something inexplicable Beckett could read in her eyes.
"Would you provide us with a DNA sample, Dr Monroe, to test against the DNA we've found under Natasha Humphrey's fingernails… to rule you out?"
And that was the thing, in the end, that had Louisa Monroe bursting into tears, putting her head in her hands, shaking her head almost hopelessly at herself.
"You… you think I could have been Natasha's murderer?" she half-sobbed, "I'm…. I'm not that kind of person… I was drunk, I was rude, I was horrible to her in her last hours, and I'll always regret that… but I never would have hurt her, not physically. I never would have done that…"
"Dr Monroe, will-"
"I'll give you my DNA." She interrupted, an iron mask descending over her features, "So you can realise ever suspecting me of something that terrible was a mistake… Detective Beckett, it was a long time ago now…. But we were good friends in school, Natasha and I… I would never have hurt her…"
Beckett gave a nod, a small smile, "It's to rule you out, clear your name. And then you won't have to worry about it anymore…"
When Beckett and Castle got back to her desk, there was someone sat there, someone with long blonde hair and a frightened, looking younger than it was face, and an expression that Beckett had become all too familiar with for so many years of her life, that expression of longing for an answer. Rachel Dean gave the pair of them a small and half-hearted smile as they walked into her line of sight.
"I came… I came to ask you to try really hard to find whoever did this to my mother…" she started, and her voice was barely more than a whisper, her eyes filled with tears, "… someone ought to pay for something that bad… Dad and I… we'll be paying for our whole lives, in grief… and I want her back, and I'll never get her back… there needs to be someone to answer for something like that…"
And Castle watched, as if in slow motion, Beckett's face turn ashen pale, and her left hand grip the side of the desk, the whole situation far too familiar, far too reminiscent. It wasn't even as if she could offer her own story, with an ending that gave Rachel something she'd want… because she might have known more about her mother's murder now than she had for years, but she still didn't know all of it… she still didn't know everything… He could see her gritting her teeth, and he had known her long enough and could read her well enough to know that she was quelling nausea, she didn't have the stomach to bring words to her lips for a few minutes.
"We're trying our very best, Rachel." He said quietly, "Whole teams of us… and we're getting somewhere, we're getting there… Beckett… she lost her mother like this… she feels for you, she'll make sure we find whoever did this…" he swallowed, that was a liberty he'd taken, telling Rachel Dean about Johanna's murder, and he wished Beckett would meet his eyes, so he'd know if he'd ruined countless things or done something acceptable, but she wouldn't. She seemed to be finding the clear sky out of the window endlessly fascinating.
"Thank you." The girl whispered, and she stood up and walked away before either of them could come up with another word.
Beckett's eyes slid across slowly to meet his, and he couldn't help thinking for a moment how well he knew her now, to read exactly what she was thinking in those eyes. She gave him the tiniest, most solemn smile.
"Beckett." She answered her phone.
"It's Lanie… Louisa Monroe's DNA cleared… it's not her… but the DNA flagged someone up… a Ted McGarvey, his prior's nothing major, he punched a guy outside a bar last year… other than that we haven't got anything on him… he works in maintenance in the hotel, though, he would have been able to get access…"
"Brilliant." After Rachel Dean's plea for answers, her voice was slightly harder, her brow slightly more set. She needed to close this case and make someone pay, sooner rather than later. "Bring him in."