Castle

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.

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.

This is Blackbird. Identification.

Designate 2-2-3. I am blown. I am blown.

This call is unauthorized, 2-2-3.

This line is not secure. Where is the safe house?

Negative, 2-2-3. You know the rules.

(Line disconnects, dial tone drones)

We've got something between us nothing can change.

Oh, well, I suppose you're right in a way, Walter.

Sure, I'm right... Aren't you gonna answer that?

Nope.

Oh-- and neither are you.

Ahh. Who are you hiding from now?

Gina.

Ohh. Forget an alimony payment?

No, this time she's not calling as my ex-wife.

She's calling as my publisher.

The first draft of my new manuscript was due yesterday,

and I haven't finished.

Why not? Haven't felt like writing.

And besides, I don't think I'm entirely happy

with where my characters are going.

Well... change them.

Working on it. What are you doing here?

I thought you had an audition for williamstown tonight.

I do. Just came to pick up my lucky blouse.

Aah! I got in! I got in!

Oh, good.

Oh, my God. You got in. That's amazing! I can't b--

I don't--what-- what did you get into?

Princeton's summer program for High School students.

I thought you got wait-listed. Someone just canceled,

but we have to send them a deposit A.S.A.P.,

because it starts this weekend. This weekend?

I know we had plans, but-- not just plans--

Memorial Day, the Hamptons,

our annual "kick off the summer" week.

I mean, I got the illegal fireworks,

the kind you like, the ones with the silver starbursts.

Dad, it's Princeton.

I can't believe you would blow off illegal fireworks

for a lousy head start at a top-notch education.

I know. I'm a huge disappointment.

Now there are a bunch of forms you need to sign,

and I'll fill the rest out for you later.

Mm-hmm. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey.

It says here that the, uh, the dorms are coed.

Yeah, it's college. No.

No, it's a summer program for High School students

at a college.

According to this, half the kids in your building

will be 16- and 17-year-old boys.

Relax, dad. Each floor has a resident advisor who's 21.

Oh, so the one person in charge

is conveniently old enough to buy alcohol?

Darling, don't be such a prude.

Remember that trip you took to Italy with your class?

You were younger than Alexis is now.

Mother, if you had any idea what happened on that trip,

you would've never let me leave the house again.

Sometimes, the less you know, the better.

Ah.

Beckett.

You have a novel to finish.

Mnh-mnh-mnh.

It's Castle.

It's kinda like a tradition--

you know, bonfires, roasting marshmallows,

telling ghost stories, sleeping late.

We've done it since she was 5.

Sounds nice. Kinda magical, actually.

Yeah, you know what? You should come.

Oh, it's right on the ocean. There's a secluded pool.

You could lay out, work on your tan.

Wow, Castle, you're working really hard

to see me in a swimsuit.

If you are not comfortable in a swimsuit,

you can just skinny-dip.

The vic's a white male,

multiple gunshot wounds to the chest.

Found him about an hour ago.

Mugging?

Nah. He still has his watch, wallet and cash.

Then there's the matter of the phantom bullets.

Yeah, he took five to the chest.

There are no slugs, Shell casings.

The killer went so far as to dig his bullets out of that tree branch right there.

That's weird. What about in the body?

They're all through and throughs.

Exit holes on each wound.

So our doer cleaned up after himself.

It takes real presence of mind

to put five bullets into a man's chest

and then keep your cool long enough

to pick up after yourself. Natural instinct is to run.

I would say we are most likely dealing with

a highly trained assassin.

Time of death?

Based on temperature and lividity,

I'd say between 11:00 P.M. and 1:00 A.M.

I.D.?

Shawn Caldwell. No driver's license,

but according to his work I.D.,

he was a consultant for F.G.S. In Midtown.

"Fastwater Global Services"?

Sounds like a CIA front.

Found these in his pocket.

Company car keys.

There's no house keys on the chain.

There's a generic hotel key card.

In from out of town? Except the company address is local,

and so is his gym membership. All right.

Have C.S.U. Sweep the area, canvass the homeless people,

see if anyone saw or heard anything.

(Police radio chatter, camera shutter clicks)

Ocean view from my patio.

It does not get better than this.

What's wrong? I tried information, our database.

I even did an Internet search,

and it's like these guys don't even exist.

Who? Fastwater global services.

Ah! See? I told you. CIA cover.

No. I mean, they probably just don't like to advertise.

Yeah, well, I thought so as well,

so I checked their address-- 1747 West 43rd Street.

It's in the middle of the Hudson River.

So I went back and checked through his wallet

and looked at his I.D.S, his gym membership,

health insurance, even his atm card--

they're all fakes. You run his name?

Yeah, there's about half a dozen Shawn Caldwells

in the tristate area, and none of them are a match.

What about his fingerprints? Not in our system.

Hey, Beckett. Hey, what'd you find?

Well, we spoke to some homeless guys who were camped

a couple hundred yards from the overpass last night.

They didn't see or hear anything.

Couple hundred yards? How do you not hear five gunshots?

Unless... He used a silencer.

To kill a man who went out of the way to hide who he was?

This is starting to sound more and more like a professional hit.

Yeah, well, we're nowhere until we figure out

who this guy actually is.

Why don't you guys go canvass the area

near the entrance to the park, see if you can find his car?

And fax his photo to the local hotels,

see if anyone recognizes his face. Right on.

You know, I-I was...

I was kidding about the assassin stuff.

That's Lanie.

Please tell me that you found something.

Well, I found nothing that sheds light

on the identity of your victim,

but I did find something that may help with your killer.

We know the shooter tried to scrub the crime scene

of ballistic evidence, but one of the rounds

shattered Mr. Caldwell's rib and left this little souvenir.

A bullet fragment? Can't tell the caliber,

but this polygonal rifling along the outer rim

is consistent with the barrel of a glock. Hmm.

What? The grouping of the shots.

You see how tight they all are?

There's no stippling, no muzzle burns.

The killer must have shot from a distance.

Which means he's a very good shot.

Hi.

Great. Thanks.

They found the car.

Car is registered to Allied Fleet Services,

a car rental agency.

Oh, I hope they got the insurance option.

Who did they rent it to?

This particular car is on a long-term lease to F.G.S.

Fastwater Global Services.

Do they know they rented their car to a company that doesn't exist?

Oh, no. It exists, just not in New York.

All correspondence, billing and payments go through

a P.O. Box in the Cayman Islands. It gets even weirder.

In the trunk, we found these.

Euros.