Castle

Hey. Did you eat my fries?

You shouldn't have left them.

What is that?

I have no idea.

Call 9-1-1!

Almost there, Castle.

Just another two weeks.

It's already been two weeks.

Two weeks is an eternity.

Yeah, well, maybe next time we go skiing,

you're not gonna be such a show-off.

I wasn't showing off.

Okay, I was showing off a little bit.

But I swear to you,

I can do a tail grab with my eyes closed

and without breaking my kneecap.

Mm-hmm.

Well, I am off.

Now the retreat is out of cell phone range,

so if I don't call you on your birthday,

it is not because I have forgotten.

I won't think it's because you've forgotten.

I'll think it's because you made other plans.

Now wait a minute.

You and Katherine were supposed to be celebrating

in Bora Bora this week.

No, you're right.

Have a great time on your retreat...

On your only son's birthday.

It is a spa trip, darling. Not a guilt trip.

Mwah. He's all yours.

See you in a week.

Bye.

Oh, come on, Castle.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself.

I'll get us a reservation

and I'll take you somewhere nice for your birthday.

As nice as Bora Bora?

Mm.

Oh.

Katherine, your ride is here.

Oh, great.

- Ride? - Yeah, we had a body drop.

I asked the boys to pick me up

so I'd have enough time to make you breakfast.

I'm missing another case? No. Come on.

Guys, take me with you.

No! Not until you get better.

Castle, how's the knee?

It's not the knee so much as the boredom.

I thought you writers liked being alone.

Yeah, if I could write.

But the painkillers make me a little loopy.

Last night I used the word "speculate"

three times in the same sentence.

Mm. You must be bored.

You've actually gone "Rear Window."

Alexis got me those as a joke to cheer me up.

I have not yet resorted to voyeurism.

Then you are missing out.

- What? Let me see. - No, hey--

Dude, she was just about to take off her towel.

- Oh, the towel is off. - Really?

- Yeah. - Mmm.

Unless the body that you're looking at is dead,

I suggest you drop those binoculars.

Okay, Castle.

I will call you and check on you soon.

Hey, what if I consult by phone?

We could pretend I'm Charlie, and you're my angels.

Why are men such babies

when they get sick or injured?

It's an evolutionary thing.

Men who can get women to take care of 'em,

well, they have a greater chance of survival.

Really, Espo? Where'd you read that,

"You're making it up" magazine?

Hey, Lanie. So what have we got?

Sorry, sweetie. It's a bad one.

Multiple contusions to the head,

evidence of fracturing at the base of the skull.

From the patterning, I'd say she was

repeatedly struck by that bat.

Do we know who she is?

The guard who found her ID'ed her as Clara Dewinter--

35, lives in Queens, and married.

What was she doing in this alleyway

in the middle of the night?

She was an IRS agent.

Worked in this building here.

Apparently, she was working late.

The employees sometimes cut across the alley

to get to the parking garage next door.

Do we have a witness?

No, but we may have something way better.

What the hell is that?

No idea, ma'am.

Never seen anything like it.

Espo?

It's an infrared camera.

So our attacker could be wearing

some sort of high-intensity IR lights,

which would be invisible to the eye but blinding to that camera.

That's pretty sophisticated for a street criminal.

No, this wasn't a street crime.

The person knew that that camera was there and took precautions.

This was a premeditated murder.

Wait. Go back.

Right there.

That's our killer's car. All right.

Let's have tech filter that image for make and model

and let's see if they can get us a better look

at our attacker's face.

With all the cutbacks, her workload increased.

She'd stay late a couple of times a week trying to catch up,

and on those nights, I'd pick up an extra shift at the store.

And when was the last time you saw her?

We had dinner around 7:00,

then, uh...

we both went back to work.

And how did she seem? Was she nervous, upset?

No. She was fine.

And what--what exactly did your wife do for the IRS?

Uh, she was an investigator.

She went after tax evaders.

So she must have made enemies.

Yeah, pretty much everyone she audited.

And was there anyone in particular that she had trouble with?

Actually... yeah.

We were out at--out at dinner a couple of weeks ago,

a-and this guy comes barging into the restaurant

accusing Clara of destroying his life.

Did she tell you who he was?

Just another tax cheat she took down.

She said it was no big deal,

but I could tell, she was rattled.

Can you tell me what he looked like?

6 feet...

dark hair.

You should check with her work.

She promised to file a complaint, so...

Looks like we got some beautiful clear skies with us today.

A nice tail wind's gonna get us there right away, folks.

We'll be there zero dark thirty, zero dark quarter to.

Nice, red five. You're looking good.

Oh, no. I've got something wrong.

Ooh, that's not good.

Evade! Evade! Evade!

No!

Survivors.

Look,

most IRS agents get threats.

It's the nature of our business.

Did Mrs. Dewinter report any recently?

No.

Are you sure?

You have to understand,

Clara was a rare breed--

an IRS agent who actually liked her job.

What's that have to do with her being threatened?

The thing is,

each threat requires an investigation,

which is a headache for upstairs.

It's an unwritten rule that agents who report threats

don't fare well on performance reviews.

Well, that unwritten rule may have gotten her killed.

And since you don't have a record of the threat,

we're gonna have to take a look at her audit files

going back at least a year.

Hmm.

Must be writers.

Oh, that better be for a sick child.

Oh, to be young and...

underemployed.

Whoa. Hold on, guys. Slow down.

Not a race.

Maybe close the blinds.

Mm-hmm.

All right, you kids. You have fun.

Someone's home early.

Really?

You're gonna kiss him now?

Oh, maybe next time, you'll think twice

about being cheatin' cheaters.

Uh-oh.

Someone's got some 'splaining to do.

Hey, guys.

So... tech couldn't get us a better look

at the attacker's face,

but they're hoping to have an ID on the car by morning.

How's it going in here?

Well, Clara's colleagues don't remember

her mentioning any explicit threat.

But if we're looking for people whose lives were ruined,

there's no shortage of suspects.

We've got houses that were repossessed,

bank accounts that were seized, businesses that were shut down,

and we're only a couple of months in.

Okay, so let's put a list together

and pull photos... see if the husband recognizes anyone.