Castle

Murder...

Mystery...

The macabre...

What is it about a hard-boiled detective,

a femme fatale

and the cold steel of a gun

that keeps our bedside lamps

burning into the wee hours of the morning?

However the spell is cast,

tonight we honor a master of the form

and celebrate the launch of "storm fall"...

Call me when you're ready to wash that off. (Giggles)

The stunning conclusion

to his best-selling Derrick storm mystery series.

Ladies and gentlemen, the master of the macabre...

Rick castle. (Cheering)

Who are you?

Alison tisdale...

24, grad student at n.Y.U.,

part of the social work program. Nice place for a social worker.

Daddy's money.

Neighbors called to complain about the music.

When she didn't answer, they had the super check on her.

No signs of struggle.

He knew her.

Even bought her flowers. Who says romance is dead?

I do, every Saturday night.

A little lipstick wouldn't hurt.

I'm just saying.

So what'd he give her besides roses?

Two shots to the chest,

small caliber.

Does this look familiar to anyone?

No, but I'm not the one with a thing for freaky ones.

Just give me a "Jack shot Jill over bill"

so I can get my collar and go home.

Oh, but the freaky ones require more.

They reveal more.

Look at how he left her, covered modestly.

So?

So despite all of the effort, all of the preparation,

you won't find any evidence of sexual abuse. You really get that from just this?

This, plus, I've seen this before.

You've seen it before? Where?

Roses on her body, sunflowers on her eyes?

Don't you guys read?

What kind of idiot

kills off his best-selling main character?

Are you asking as my bloodsucking publisher

or as my bloodsucking ex-wife?

Oh, is that what you're doing?

Punishing me by killing the golden goose?

Oh, come on. I may be petty and shortsighted,

but I'm not that petty and shortsighted. Really? Then why?

Writing Derrick used to be fun. Now it's like work.

Mm. God forbid you should work.

I mean, you could have retired him,

you could have crippled him.

You could have had him join the friggin' circus.

But, no, you had to put a bullet through his head.

Yeah, real messy, too. Big exit wound.

Don't worry. Derrick storm is not the golden goose here. I am.

I wrote half a dozen best sellers before him.

What makes you think I'm gonna stop now? Oh, I don't know.

The fact the new book was due nine weeks ago? You can't rush genius.

Genius, Richard? Try blockage.

I heard you haven't written in months. That's ridiculous.

My sources are very reliable. Well, they're wrong.

They better be. If I don't have a new manuscript

on my desk in the next three weeks,

black pawn is prepared to demand the return of your advance. You wouldn't dare.

Try me. Just try me.

You know, I already returned that advance.

I spent it divorcing you.

Really, doll face, who does homework at a party?

I have a test next week.

So do I... liver function. You don't see me studying.

All right, give me a hit of the bubbly. Make that two.

Hey, kiddo. Sales must be slipping.

They're only serving the soft stuff.

Hey, dad.

Hey, sweetie. So, mother...

Shh! Shh! Shh! Not so loud. I'm still hoping to get lucky.

Did you tell Gina I was having trouble writing?

Oh, I told her nothing of the sort. I...

I may have said something

about spending your days moping in your underwear

waiting for post time at belmont.

But hey, you're an artist. It's expected. We had a deal.

I let you live with us, but you don't talk about my work. What's to talk about?

You haven't done any since I moved in. Gram.

Well, he hasn't. Whatever I have and haven't done,

I would just appreciate it if you wouldn't share it

with my ex-wife. Oh, what's the big deal?

Hang on, sweetie. I just got a hit on my "graydar." (Bell dings)

Bingo! No ring. Stand back, kids.

Mama's going fishing.

You should have me committed.

For what, letting her move in?

I think it's sweet.

Won't be when I strangle her.

You know I'm only 15, right?

You're an old soul.

Yeah, well, me and my "soul" can wait.

When I was your age...

I can't tell that story.

It's wildly inappropriate, which, oddly, is my point.

Don't you want to have wildly inappropriate stories

that you can't tell your children? I think you have enough of those for the both of us.

Life should be an adventure.

You want to know why I killed Derrick?

There were no more surprises. I knew exactly

what was going to happen every moment of every scene.

It's just like these parties. They've become so predictable.

"I'm your biggest fan. Where do you get your ideas?"

And the ever popular "will you sign my 'chest'?"

That one I don't mind so much. Yeah, well, f.Y.I., I do.

Just once, I'd like someone to come up to me

and say something new. (Woman) Mr. Castle?

Where would you like it? Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD.

We need to ask you a few questions

about a murder that took place earlier tonight.

That's new.

Mr. Castle.

You've got quite a rap sheet for a best-selling author.

Disorderly conduct,

uh, resisting arrest?

Boys will be boys.

It says here that you stole a police horse?

Borrowed.

Ah. And you were nude at the time.

It was spring. And every time, the charges were dropped.

What can I say?

The mayor is a fan.

But if it makes you feel any better,

I'd be happy to let you spank me.

Mr. Castle, this whole "bad boy charm" thing

that you've got going

might work for bimbettes and celebutantes.

Me? I work for a living,

so that makes you one of two things in my world...

either the guy who makes my life easier

or the guy who makes my life harder.

And trust me, you do not want to be

the guy who makes my life harder. Okay.

Alison tisdale,

daughter of real estate mogul Jonathan tisdale. She's cute.

She's dead. Did you ever meet her? Book signing?

Charity event? It's possible. She's not in my little black book,

if that's what you're asking. What about this guy?

Marvin fisk, small claims lawyer.

Most of my claims tend to be on the, um, large side.

So what's this got to do with me?

Fisk was found murdered in his office two weeks ago.

I didn't put it together

until we saw the tisdale crime scene tonight.

"Flowers for your grave." And this is how we found Marvin fisk,

right out of "hell hath no fury."

Looks like I have a fan. Yeah, a really deranged fan.

Oh, you don't look deranged to me. What?

"Hell hath no fury"...

angry wiccans out for blood.

Come on. Only hard-core castle groupies read that one.

Do any of these groupies ever write you letters?

Disturbing letters? Oh, all my fan mail is disturbing.

It's an occupational hazard. Because sometimes in cases like this,

we find that the killer attempts to... killer attempts to contact the subject of his obsession.

I'm also pretty well-versed in psychopathic methodologies.

Another occupational hazard.

And do you know you have gorgeous eyes?

So I take it that you won't have any objection

to us going through your mail? Knock yourself out.

Can I get copies of those?

Copies?

I have this poker game. It's mostly other writers...

Patterson, cannell... you know, best-sellers.

You have no idea how jealous those would make them.

Jealous? That I have a copycat. Oh, my gosh.

In my world, that's the red badge of honor.

That's the criminal cooperstown.

People are dead, Mr. Castle.

I'm not asking for the bodies, just the pictures.

I think we're done here.

Hey, kiddo!

I'm just showing Burt here how we did it at the palace.

Does he know it's your theme song? (Laughs) Ooh!

Ready to bring it home, ducky? Hey! Yes!

Five, six, seven, eight.

You're missing the late show. I saw it in previews.

Looks like we got a new lead. His name is Burt. He does magic.

Wow. Yeah.

Let's hope he disappears by morning. (Laughter)

C'est apres minuit dans une school night.