Castle

Keep 'em comin', pal. You're doing great.

Say, maybe you can help me. I'm lookin' for a dame.

Aren't we all?

This one's special. You know her?

Know her?

I'm lookin' at her.

And where have you been all my life?

Talk about a slice of history.

The Penny Baker club.

You know, back in the '40s, all the greats played here.

If these walls could talk, man, the stories they would tell.

Yeah, but the only story we need to hear is about...

Stan banks. Single G.S.W. to the sternum.

I'm calling the time of death

between 6:00 and 8:00 this morning.

Looks like he tried to defend himself with this.

Obviously, it didn't work.

So a robbery gone wrong?

Well, he still had his wallet, cell,

and a room key from the Parksville arms, so...

Pockets were pulled out,

indicating the killer searched the body.

For what, we have no idea.

That's weird. He's got an S.R.O. key,

but his driver's license has him living on 34th street.

We'll hit the S.R.O.

See if there's anything we can find out about him.

Thanks.

You lookin' for a drink, Castle?

'Cause I'm pretty sure the bar is closed.

Actually, I was looking for a clue.

I think I found one.

Some homeless guy's squat, and...

Today's "ledger." He was here this morning.

Well, whoever he is, maybe he saw something.

I'll get patrol units to canvass the area.

Stan's dead?

Well, that's just great.

What am I supposed to do with all his crap?

We'll be taking some of it off your hands

as part of our investigation.

You know of anyone who's been threatening Stan lately?

I'm the manager here, not the den mother.

Okay, then. When was the last time you saw him?

Uh, this morning. Stan was all smiles.

Gave notice he was moving out 'cause his ship was coming in.

- What ship? - Oh, I don't know.

The "Titanic" from the looks of things.

Well, if you can remember anything else,

can you please give me a call?

Don't hold your breath, hotshot.

I think she likes you.

I have no idea why Stan was at the Penny Baker club.

But we've been separated for almost a year,

so God knows where he's been.

And when was the last time you spoke with him?

Two months ago, which is crazy,

'cause there was a time we couldn't go two hours

without talking.

But then Stan had to go and find that doubloon.

A doubloon, as in old Spanish coin?

He dug one up on a beach in north Carolina.

And after that, he got the bug.

And it only got worse after he saw this stupid documentary

about Clyde Belasco, the treasure hunter.

Yeah, that's the fellow

who found that sunken confederate ship ten years ago.

Stan was so inspired,

he quit his accounting job to search for lost antiquities.

I mean, even the last time we spoke,

all he could talk about was how he was close

to finding a blue butterfly.

A blue... Like an insect?

Who knows?

Was he having problems with anyone that you know of?

He had money problems. I know that.

I got a call two days ago from some guy

looking for Stan.

Said that Stan owed him $10,000

and that he'd better pay

or else.

There's nothing in Stan's personal effects

about butterflies, blue or otherwise.

Just a bunch of books

about mobsters and Manhattan in the '40s.

That's all right, because I got a hit

on that threatening money call to Stan's wife,

and it turns out it came from a dry cleaners.

Maybe clothes aren't the only thing they're laundering.

I'll check it out.

Thanks.

Uh, this diary in Stan's stuff,

it's also from the '40s.

It sounds like it belonged to a private eye.

Listen to this.

"Usually wives turn on the waterworks

"when shown pictures of their husbands stepping out,

"but not this dame.

"She wanted payback. So what's worse,

"that I pitched woo with a client

or that I invoiced her for services rendered after?"

Cute.

Cute?

I mean, this guy sounds like a hard-boiled P.I.

Right out of a Raymond Chandler novel.

I wonder why Stan had this?

Hey, yo, Beckett.

Still got no word on that homeless guy,

but a bodega owner saw a white mustang

parked in the loading zone right outside the club

for the past three days.

Okay. See if anyone saw those license plates.

- Right on. - Okay.

Um, Beckett?

Can I take this home for the night?

I mean, it might be the key to what Stan was looking for.

You just want to read it because you think it's cool.

Yeah, well, that, too.

Okay, just so long as you...

Bring it back in the morning.

"June 18, 1947.

"The day began like every other,

"pulling awake in my office chair

"with a cream of Kentucky bottle,

"a dry throat,

"and a head that was ringing like church bells.

"So I figured I'd kill two birds with one stone

with a little hair of the dog that bit me."

Ohh.

Oh.

Damn it, Mr. Flynn.

Why have an apartment

when you drink yourself to sleep in the office every night?

That way, I'm never late for work.

Say, what gives, anyhow?

We have a potential client, so be nice.

I'd like to make next month's rent

if you don't mind.

All right?

How do I look?

Like a star.

"Just another day on the isle of Manhattan"...

"Until she walked in

"with a case that changed my life.

"Wearing t-strap shoes and a country suit,

"I could tell that that redhead

was a hick fresh off the cob."

- Hello. - My name's Sally Mulqueen.

I mean, Scofield. Sorry, I'm a newlywed.

Still gettin' used to the name.

Joe Flynn, Mrs. Scofield.

So tell me, what has you knocking on my shingle?

I-I talked my husband into honeymoon in'

up here in the big apple,

but not because I wanted to climb skyscrapers

and see Broadway shows.

I had myself another reason.

See, I'm lookin' for my big sister Vera.

Vera Mulqueen.

There was bad blood back home,

and Vera ran off two years ago

with dreams of being a showgirl up here in the big city.

She send you a wire, postcard, anything with a return address?

Can you find her, mister?

Mama's sick, and, um...

Doesn't have long.

Well, of course he can...

For 15 bucks a day plus expenses.

Only...

Can we keep this quiet?

Like I said, there's bad blood back home,

and if Vera hears from a stranger

that the family's looking for her,

it might push her farther away.

Mrs. Scofield,

if I'm anything, I'm discreet.

"And that's when I saw her.

"Looking at that photograph, all I could think was,

what a beautiful doll."

"Sally said Vera had dreams of being a showgirl.

"Maybe she made it.

Stranger things have happened in this town."

"My last stop was the Penny Baker club.

I was hoping my favorite performer Satchmo was blowing."

Excuse me, pal.

"But no such luck.

"Couldn't complain, though,

"because Betsy Sinclair was up there,

and that songbird's got golden pipes."

Whiskey.

"I'll be damned if all that walking

"didn't get the shrapnel in my hip buzzing.

But I knew where to get my medicine."

Say, maybe you can help me. I'm lookin' for a dame.

Aren't we all?

This one's special. You know her?

Know her?

I'm lookin' at her.

And where have you been all my life?

"What was I thinking?