Castle (2009–2016): Season 1, Episode 4 - Hell Hath No Fury - full transcript

(YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE
MY FRIEND PLAYING)

(SINGING) Hey!

Hey!

Okay

You're supposed to be my friend

CASTLE: Oh, my God.

This is quite possibly the worst coffee
I've ever tasted.

It's actually kind of fascinating.
It tastes like a...

Hmm.

It tastes like
a monkey peed in battery acid.

Try some?

Don't you have a book coming out
today or something?

Yeah. So?

So, you are watching me do paperwork.

It's creepy.
Don't you have somewhere else to be?

I like it here.

Oh, my gosh! I get it. You're hiding.

Your book is coming out today,
and you are hiding.

No. Hiding would be building a fortress
out of my comforter

and then downing a fifth of Scotch, but
apparently that's considered unhealthy.

I thought that you don't care
what people think.

I don't.

Much.

(PHONE RINGING)

(IMITATES VOMITING)

Beckett. Yeah. Right. On my way.

Dead body? Yes!

POLICEMAN: I've set it up.

- This the guy?
- You heard, huh?

Oh, everyone's heard.

You really basing your next character
on Detective Beckett?

Every artist needs a muse.

Call me a muse again, and I will break
both your legs, okay?

- Okay.
- ESPOSITO: Detective Beckett.

Jack Lifford and Hall Morrison.

While moving in, they see a rolled-up
rug sticking out of a dumpster.

They figure it's their lucky day.

They bring it home, only to find
there's a prize inside.

Dead guy in a rug.
Naturally, we thought of you.

Yeah.

38-caliber. Close range.
Killed him instantly.

You got an ID?

ESPOSITO: No, pockets were empty.
No wallet. No keys. No jewelry.

We figured a robbery gone wrong.

- This wasn't a robbery.
- This wasn't a robbery.

I rob someone,
I'm not gonna stick around

to wrap him up, throw him away.

Blood splatter indicates

he was standing near the rug
when he was shot.

BECKETT: Where'd they find this?

RYAN: East 3rd, about two blocks away.

All right. Let's get CSU on the rug.
Fibers, blood, identifying marks.

BECKETT: And let's get a team
down to the dumpster,

see if they can dig anything else up.

Lanie, you do what you can
about an ID.

- LANIE: Got it.
- Don't bother.

I know who he is.

- MONTGOMERY: You got something?
- Jeff Horn, 48.

- Two-term city council member.
- Friend of yours?

I recognize him from the bus ads.
He's running for re-election.

Press is gonna be all over this.
Does he have a family?

Yeah.

Well, let's try to notify them
before the jackals do.

BECKETT: Mrs. Horn,
I know this is difficult,

but when was the last time
you heard from your husband?

I called him last night, around 11:00.

He was finishing up a fundraiser
and heading back to the office.

- Did he always work that late?
- During elections.

LAURIE: He believed
that it was a politician's obligation

to get the people's work done

even while running for office.

And when he didn't come home?

Well, it wasn't unusual for him to crash

on his couch
instead of coming home, but...

(SIGHS)

When Frank called this morning...

Frank?

Frank Nesbit.

Jeff's campaign manager.

How did your husband
sound last night?

- What do you mean?
- Did he seem

troubled,
like there was something wrong?

No, he seemed happy.

It doesn't make any sense.

He's a good man,
and he's a good father.

And every day he would go out there
and try to make this city a better place.

Every day!

And for him to die like this?

Oh, no, what am I supposed to
tell my girls?

(SIGHS)

You okay?

Yeah. Why?

Can't be easy,
breaking that kind of news.

Yeah, well, thanks for not making it
a joke.

Hey, I'm a wise-ass, not a jackass.

I didn't know there was a difference.

So, what's your next move?

Last person to see him alive?

Establish a timeline? Grab a donut?
More really bad coffee?

This female detective of yours, exactly
how much will she be based on me?

Well, she's not too bright,
and kind of slutty.

Right, so was that wise-ass or jackass?

Actually, that was jackass.

No, honestly, you're not gonna have

anything to be embarrassed about.

She's gonna be...

She's gonna be really smart,
very savvy, haunting good looks,

really good at her job...
And kind of slutty.

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

- Castle...
- I should really get that.

- Hello?
- MARTHA: Oh, sweetheart, I...

Oh, Mother, slow down. What's wrong?

MARTHA: And I just wanted to
make sure you were all right.

Why wouldn't I be all right?

No one is buying your book.

What are you talking about?

I am standing
in the middle of the bookstore,

and no one is buying your book.

Okay.
What are you doing in a bookstore?

I was hungry. I came in for a pastry.

And there they were, all your books,
just sitting there.

Mother, they only just went on sale
two hours ago.

What did you expect?
A line out the door?

There was one for the last Harry Potter.

Yes, well,
Derrick Storm is not Harry Potter.

Clearly.

No one's bought one?

Hang on, kiddo, hang on.

(EXCLAIMING IN ANTICIPATION)

No.

- You okay?
- Yeah.

ESPOSITO: I don't care if it was free.

Even if you pay me,
I'm still not gonna take that rug.

You're telling me you've lived
in New York your whole life,

and you've never scored
a piece of road kill?

"Road kill?"

It's an accepted practice, bro.

You're done with your old stuff,

you leave it on the street
for those less fortunate.

Artists, students,
former hedge fund managers.

It's trickle-down economics at its finest.

Yeah, well,
I prefer not to be trickled on.

You know that red couch I have?
The one you like so much?

Don't you say it, bro.

54th and Lex.

That's gross. Gross.

We are never playing Madden
at your place again.

- Detective.
- Yeah?

You just got in there.

(ESPOSITO SIGHS)

- Jeffrey Horn.
- Nice work, Scott.

BECKETT: Yeah, Esposito.

No, run LUDs on his phone, see if
he talked to anyone other than his wife.

They found the wallet.
Money and credit cards were gone.

Anything from the neighbors?

The usual.
Wailing cats, loud TVs, car alarms.

No shots, though. And no blood spatter.

A real robber would have left the
wallet where he killed the guy,

not where he moved him.

It's a sloppy cover-up,
but it does tell us one thing.

This was premeditated.

Excuse me.
Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD.

We're looking for Frank Nesbit,
Horn's campaign manager. Thank you.

- Ryan, could you give us a minute?
- Sure.

We've called in grief counselors
for the kids.

I know it's clich?,
but he meant a lot to all of us.

Well, it sounds like
he was more than just a candidate.

We were friends.
We wanted to change the world.

- Were you with him last night?
- Yeah.

Until about, I don't know, 11:00.

I offered to share a taxi,
but he wanted to walk.

And where was the fundraiser?

Marconi's. 83rd, off Broadway.

- That's just a dozen blocks from here.
- Yeah.

Mr. Horn's body was found
all the way downtown.

Did he have any enemies?

Well, he was a politician.

What about his opponent?

It's hard to imagine Jason Bollinger
doing something like this.

He is eight points up in the polls.

Did Horn or the campaign receive
any threats recently?

Just your usual crackpots,
nothing special.

Unless you count hate mail
from Calvin Creason.

Creason, the hotel and club owner?

Owns Axium and the Soho Majestic.

Even ran Club Tasty, back in the day.
There was this one time...

Story for another time.
What did Horn do?

Crack down on the ecstasy dealers?

Creason bought that old
meatpacking warehouse

on the Lower East Side.

He wanted to turn it
into his next hip hotspot.

300 rooms, sake bar, nightclub.

Neighbors didn't want
a bunch of drunken

B&T'ers running through the streets,
so Horn killed it in committee.

Leaving Creason with millions of
dollars of now-worthless real estate.

Creason had a beef with Horn.
It doesn't mean he killed him.

It doesn't mean he didn't. Excuse me.

CREASON: You wanna know what I did
when I found out that he was dead?

I ordered myself
an ice-cold bottle of Cris

and toasted the sweetness
of the universe, okay?

That's pretty callous, Mr. Creason.

Listen, what do I care? What do I care?

This guy was such a putz,
acting like another hotel going up,

that was gonna be the end of the world.

Do you have any idea what one of my
properties does for the local economy?

This city should be paying me,
not stopping me.

So, I guess
we could say you had motive.

Who the hell is he? You a cop?

- I say we arrest him.
- Castle...

For what... Please.
You got nothing here.

If I was gonna go around killing
everybody that ever got in my way,

there would be bodies stacked
higher than the Chrysler Building.

I don't need to kill anyone to bury them.

Where were you last night?

I was at my club in Soho.

Anybody see you?

(LAUGHING)

Detective, when I go out,
everybody sees me.

Thank you very much, Mr. Creason.

Sure.

CASTLE: I wanna take a shower.

- Where to next?
- To check his alibi.

Actually, that may not be necessary.

Why not?

Castle, what are you doing?

Promise not to hate me.

- I already hate you.
- Fair enough.

This morning, with the body,
I took a couple of pictures.

You took photos of my crime scene?

Before you get mad, I e-mailed a couple
of them to a friend of mine.

- You e-mailed them to a friend.
- Well, not exactly a friend.

She's my interior decorator.
But then we slept together,

so I don't really know what she is now.

- What the hell were you thinking?
- I know, right?

You work together, you think it'll be fun,
but then it always makes things weird.

It's a real cautionary tale.

I'm talking about the photographs.
Of the body.

What? No!

I didn't send her pictures of the body.
I sent her pictures of the rug.

I thought maybe she might be able to
tell me where it came from.

And guess what? She did.

That's the rug.

That's the same rug.

Don't gloat, okay,
'cause it's really unattractive.

Now can we arrest him?

(GROANS)

- I feel you, man.
- Yeah, okay.

He didn't arrive at the club
until after midnight.

So what do we do now?
Wait for his lawyer to show up?

Actually, we follow other leads.
It's something that we call "working. "

Other leads! Good.
Since we both know he didn't do it.

Creason?
What makes you think he didn't do it?

Isn't it obvious?
All the evidence points to him.

And that somehow makes him
not guilty?

- He's totally the red herring.
- The red herring?

An innocent character
who appears guilty.

I know what a red herring is, Castle.

It's a literary device used in literature.

In real life, we don't dismiss a suspect
just because he appears too guilty.

Besides, I thought
you wanted to arrest him.

Yeah, because he's a tool,
not because he's guilty.

The guy's a multimillionaire.
He's not gonna be dumb enough

to wrap a dead body up in his own rug.

It doesn't matter. Those rugs were
custom-designed for Creason's hotel,

so we know he's connected.

- Hey, Esposito!
- Yeah.

BECKETT: See what you can find
on that rug.

If one went missing, what room
it's from, and maybe who had access.

- Yeah.
- Thanks.

Road trip.

You're very good
at bossing men around.

I've noticed.

You're telling me that
it's just a coincidence

that a man whose murder
you celebrated by drinking champagne

was found wrapped in a rug
from your hotel?

There are identical rugs
in every room of the Axium.

You can't expect my client to be
responsible for their whereabouts.

Sure I can,
until a jury tells me otherwise.

(EXCLAIMS)

You are wasting my time.

Detective, look, I told you exactly
what I was doing last night.

Right. You were at the club.

They said that you made
quite the entrance.

Supermodel on each arm.

Yeah. You know, the last time
I checked, it's not a crime, is it?

No. But you know what it is?
Memorable.

BECKE TT: Witnesses don't place you
at the club until 1:00 in the morning.

And Horn was murdered
somewhere between 11:00 and 12:00.

Here it comes, and...

So where were you between
11:00 and 12:00, Mr. Creason?

Booyah.

I was asleep.

Asleep? You are lame!

You are so lame!
You're Lamey McLamester.

You're so la-la-la-lame!

A TTORNE Y: It's a well-known fact
that Mr. Creason

sleeps from 6:00 p.m. To midnight

in order to maintain
a late-night presence at his clubs.

BECKE TT: Did anyone witness
you sleeping

between the hours of 11:00 and 12:00
last night, Mr. Creason?

- Creason...
- Hold on one sec.

No.

So you had motive and opportunity.

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.
Hold on one sec, hold on.

I didn't kill him, I had no reason to.

He was in your way.

Yeah, but not for long.

I knew he was gonna
lose the election, okay?

So I didn't have to kill him,
all I had to do was wait.

You couldn't be sure that
he was gonna lose the election.

Yes, actually, I could.

What do you know
about Jason Bollinger,

Horn's opponent in the race?

(PHONE RINGING)

- Is the statement ready?
- Mike's still working on it.

Well, tell Mike that the Ledger website
updates in 20 minutes

and I want my quote of outrage
and sympathy in the damn article.

I'm sorry, it's been all hands on deck
since we found out.

If you don't handle these things right,
you get crucified.

- Mr. Bollinger, I was...
- Mr. Bollinger's my father.

- Call me Jason.
- Okay, Jason.

How well do you know Calvin Creason?

Oh, he threw me a couple of
fundraisers. We met a few times. Why?

Well, he seems to think that
you have some information on Horn.

Something that would
guarantee you the election.

- Castle?
- Sorry.

- Come on.
- Opposition research?

Conducted by
a licensed private investigator.

Listen, I want to stress
that everything we did

was completely vetted by our lawyers.

None of it was illegal.

We were just trying to
determine if the councilman

had any significant vulnerabilities.

- And you found some.
- Oh, yes.

Look, politics is politics,
but I'm not a bad guy.

I figured as long as I was ahead in the
polls, there was no reason to use it.

That's Councilman Horn?

And that is not his wife.

(EXCLAIMS)

CASTLE: I gotta hand it
to Councilman Horny.

He is incredibly flexible
for a guy his age.

Look at that. You ever do that?

- Would you put those away?
- I'm just saying

he's gotta do yoga
or Pilates or something.

Why is it always
the "family value" guys

that get caught with their pants down?

'Cause the universe loves irony.

And because most people
are hypocrites.

And what was that girl thinking?

That he would leave his wife
and kids for her?

- That is so sexist.
- How is that so sexist?

You assume that
just because she's a woman,

that she was after a relationship.

Did you ever think maybe
she was in it for the sex?

Yes, I did. And then I saw him.

What was it that turned you off?
That he was wearing a rug?

Too soon?

I just hope that the PI can help us.

(PHONE RINGING)

- Beckett.
- Yo!

So the rug is a dead end.

According to housekeeping,
they dumped

a couple dozen of them last week.

Half of them went into the dumpsters,

half of them were
donated to thrift shops.

No, I already have a boyfriend.

ESPOSITO: Creason's clientele is
known for being hard on rooms.

- Right there. Do it.
- Yeah.

It's fine. What?

Dude, dude! Not cool, not cool!

So, you have my card.

My personal cell phone's on the back
if you have any more information...

Are you sure I can't tempt you?

No thanks, Mr. Kirby. I'm on duty.

(CHUCKLES) Never stopped me.

You were on the job?

KIRB Y: Twenty years out of the 134.

Of course, back then,
we had other cops as partners,

not second-rate novelists.

Yeah, don't get me started.

Excuse me. "Second-rate"?

"Hot lead poured out of cold steel"?
Come on, it's not exactly Shakespeare.

Will you put that down?

How long were you working
for the Bollinger campaign, Mr. Kirby?

Oh, a couple weeks.
But it was a fun one.

Mr. Family Values tells his wife
that he's gonna work late,

probably crash at the office.

Twenty minutes later,
he is "polling his constituency. "

What about the girl?

What I could see,
she was worth every cent.

- She was a pro?
- You don't think with a body like that

she's gonna swoon over
his stump speeches, do you?

Makes you wonder
what else he had a taste for.

And what it led to.
Do you have an address?

Strictly outcall.

You know, whores used to
have street corners,

and now they have websites.

Damn! Those are some seriously fine
five-star class-B misdemeanors.

Dude, between you and me,
you ever pay for it?

Are you counting my marriages?

Wait, stop! That's the girl in the photos.

(EXCLAIMS) Look at her.
If I had your money...

BECKETT: This isn't phone sex, Ryan.

You don't just pay
for the two minutes that you used.

The 800 number is registered
to a PO box from out of state.

We're gonna have to get cyber to track
down the IP, see where it's hosted.

Well, what if the IP's out of state, too?

We just coordinate with local PDs.

If they're willing to cooperate.

Sites like these are designed
to evade authorities.

We'll get there.
It'll just take us some time.

Or you could just do it the easy way.

FEMALE RECEPTIONIS T: VIP Liasons.

Castle, what are you doing?

Hi! My name's Richard.

I'm a very generous man

looking to arrange a very special date
with Tiffany.

Just give me a call on my phone,
which is 347-555-0179. Thank you.

Castle, you can't just call and arrange
a date with a prostitute.

- Why not?
- Because we're the police.

No, no, no, no. You're the police.

I'm just a lonely upscale gentleman
looking for a date. Bet I find her first.

DELIVERY MAN:
Is there a Rick Castle here?

Right here.

- Where do you want it, boss?
- (EXCLAIMS) Straight through there.

Castle?

- You are gonna love this.
- No, I'm pretty sure I won't.

Guys, guys, guys.

CASTLE: Yeah, just put it
right over there.

Perfect. Lift with your knees, man.
Stay here for one second, would you?

Because you guys have been
so wonderfully hospitable to me,

I just want to return the favor.

And because your coffee is basically
crap, I got you an espresso machine!

How cool is that?

(PHONE RINGING)

I think my phone's ringing.

I don't know how to put this together.

That's part of the delivery, right?
Excellent.

This is a love song
you'll never hear

ALEXIS: I don't get it.

If Creason didn't do it,
then how does the rug fit in?

Killer probably heard about the feud
between the two of them

and tried to shift suspicion.

Which is stupid,
because without the rug,

it would've just looked like
a mugging gone wrong.

So, by trying to look smart,
they were actually being stupid.

I think you just described
the human condition.

Speaking of the human condition,
how's it going with Detective Beckett?

- What do you mean?
- Oh, come on, Dad.

You are basing a character off her.

And you always say,
you have to love your characters.

Well, she is a character.
But just research. Nothing more.

- Yeah, I'm sure.
- MARTHA: Well!

Found out why your books
aren't selling. Listen to this review.

"His work has become so hackneyed,
so clich?,

"that we wonder if Mr. Castle has
anything new to say.

"It appears the magic,
if there ever was any, is long gone. "

Oh, darling, I know it's awful. It's awful.
I'm sorry. Daggers to the heart.

The Syracuse Times-Reader?

But don't you worry. I am going to
write them a piece of my mind.

And who cares
if they say the magic is gone?

Harper Lee only wrote one book.
You've written dozens.

Of course, hers was literature,
but still, I...

How long do you think it took her
to find that review?

- Probably all afternoon.
- Oh, yeah.

Oh, come on.
You know she does it out of love, right?

I mean, she thinks it's her job
to keep you grounded.

Well, I certainly feel ground.

(PHONE RINGING)

You have the Bridge, Number One.

- Hello?
- TIFFAN Y: Is this Richard?

Yes, it is. Who's this?

It's Tiffany. You called me for a date.

Yes, I did, Tiffany.
And I am so glad you called.

Just out of curiosity,
what are you wearing right now?

BECKETT: Hey.

Damn, girl. You scared me.

Lanie, you're surrounded by corpses.

Yeah, I don't expect the living
after 7:00.

Funny. Neither do I.

I'm an ME. What's your excuse?

- Oh, don't be mean.
- You deserve it.

Getting a drink with me after work

instead of getting your freak on
with writer-boy?

Yeah, well, he is annoying,

self-centered, egotistical
and completely...

Fun?

And take it from me, girlfriend,
you need some fun.

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

I mean, how bad can he be?

Beckett.

Guess who's got a date
with a prostitute!

Richard? I'm Tiffany.

It's a pleasure to meet you, Tiffany.
Please.

Wow. A gentleman.

- We're a dying breed.
- Well, then it's lucky I found you.

Actually, it's lucky we found you.

Detective Kate Beckett.
We need to ask you some questions

regarding your relationship
with Councilman Jeff Horn.

(SOFTLY) Sorry.

He was one of my regulars, but I swear
I had nothing to do with his death.

How often did you
see Councilman Horn?

Once, maybe twice a week.
At first, he just wanted to talk.

Right. He paid you just to talk.

Detective, most men come to me
because they're lonely,

because the people in their lives
don't listen anymore.

The sex is just a way for them
to feel connected again.

Okay, when was the last time that you
and Councilman Horn "connected"?

Couple of weeks ago.

He came to me, hysterical. He said
that he couldn't see me anymore.

What happened? His wife find out?

without the campaign finding out.

Politics, escorts and blackmail.
This just keeps getting better.

The councilman was looking for his
blackmailer. What if he found him?

He gets violent,
the blackmailer responds.

And then tries covering what he's done
by implicating Creason.

So all you need to do
is find your blackmailer.

That's impossible.
I kept those photos under lock and key.

No offense, Jason,
but your desk isn't exactly Fort Knox.

If somebody knew about them,
they wouldn't be difficult to get.

Do you know how many people
are in and out of this office?

- No, but I would like a list.
- Now, wait a minute.

You intend on opening up
an investigation on my campaign

with two weeks left in the election?

What are you trying to do,
cost me the race?

What are you worried about?
You're running unopposed.

Not anymore.

Laurie Horn announced that
she's running for her husband's seat.

Yesterday, I had an eight-point lead.

With the sympathy bump,
by tonight we'll be tied.

...that we cannot let
our personal tragedy

stand in the way of my husband's
vision for the future of New York.

Irony is that if I release
those photos now,

the people will love her even more.

At least 300 people
had access to those photos.

Are you planning
on questioning all of them?

No, they're just for reference.

Horn was worried
he couldn't keep paying

without the campaign finding out.

- So?
- So, if the money was coming

from the campaign,
then there's bound to be a trail.

(SIGHS)

Blackmail.

We believe he may have been making
payoffs through the campaign.

I've known Jeff for years.
He's a good man. A family man.

- You had no idea?
- None. If this gets out...

Mr. Nesbit, if he used campaign funds
to make payments,

then we should be able to trace them
back to the blackmailer,

but we need access
to your campaign ledgers.

Yeah, of course. I'll get you a disk.

(SIGHS) Look, Detective...

What he did was wrong.
I'm not excusing it.

to all the good he did in this city,

not to mention causing
immeasurable pain to his family.

These photos are evidence
in a murder investigation.

We have no intention
of releasing them.

Oh, thank God for that.

But you should be aware that,
one way or another,

these sorts of things
inevitably see the light of day.

You got something
against foamy richness?

Yeah. It annoys me.

Detective Beckett, we cross-referenced
Horn's campaign payouts

to the volunteers and employees
at Bollinger's office.

- And?
- There were a series

of off-book payments totaling 30 grand,

routed bank-to-bank with no payee,
just an account number.

Were you able to track down
the account?

Oh, yeah. It's Bruce Kirby.

That PI that took the pictures.
He is your blackmailer.

- Did you run him up?
- Of course. Real peach.

Lost his badge for excessive force.
On probation for criminal intimidation.

And he has registration for a. 38.

Same caliber
that killed Councilman Horn.

RYAN: Oh, that's good.
CASTLE: That's the stuff.

RYAN: Yeah.

- It's good, man.
- Flavor country.

KIRB Y: What? I figured,
I got the photos.

The gutless punk isn't gonna use them,
why the hell shouldn't I?

Because it's illegal.

Hey, I'm not the one that was dipping
my churro in sugar

nearly half my age.
The guy had it coming.

Except he found you out.
He came after you.

- Yeah.
- So what happened, Kirby?

He lose his cool? He get violent?

- What? No.
- You put a round in his head

and tried to pin it on Creason.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, Sherlock,
I didn't kill him.

He was coming to meet with me, yes.
With a proposition.

He wanted to know what it would take
to make it all go away, forever.

What did you tell him?

Well, I thought, "What the hell?"
250,000.

I never thought he'd say yes. He did.
He got the money.

The night he was killed,
he was coming to meet me with it.

He never showed.

What do you think?

Waiting to receive a blackmail payoff
from the vic?

My three-year-old son could come up
with a better story than that.

It's so bad it might be true.

Yeah, well, we got a team
tossing his place for the weapon.

Book him on the blackmail
till we see what the search turns up.

In the meantime, follow the money.
If this bozo's telling the truth...

Then Horn had a quarter-million dollars
on him when he was killed.

Yeah, so where's the money?

And where does an underpaid public
servant get it from in the first place?

Well, he'd go where all politicians go.

To people who like him,
people who gave him money before.

Hey! Hey! Can I go home now?

What happened to Jeff Horn
was a tragedy.

Not just for his family,
but for all of us he served.

And even though violence stole his life,
his wife is here with us today,

refusing to let violence steal his dream
of a better New York.

Ladies and gentlemen, Laurie Horn.

(CROWD APPLAUDING)

Thank you. Thank you so much.

We all know it should be
my husband speaking with you today.

It should be his calming voice,
not mine that you hear.

This is a city council race,
not the US Senate.

We rely on thousands of small
donations, not a few big ones.

Well, some of them
must have deep pockets.

Well, the depth of those pockets
is limited by the law.

And if it wasn't limited by law,

did Horn have any supporters that
would be willing to go the extra mile?

Detective, with all due respect,

there's no way in hell I'm helping you

start a witch hunt
against our top supporters.

Now, you want to go through
our campaign contributors? Fine.

That's a matter of public record.

But anything else
and you're on your own.

- FEMALE REPORTER: Over this way.
- Thank you. Yes?

- Hey.
- Hey.

- Finished your homework?
- Yeah.

- You wanna finish mine?
- Well, that depends.

How much you offering to pay me?

- Oh, I taught you well.
- Gina called.

She wanted me to remind you about
the reading and book signing

- at Broadway Books tomorrow night.
- Oh, that was nice of her.

Yeah. And if you don't show, she will,

"Drip honey on your eyeballs
and let loose 100 fire ants. "

Okay. What's worse?
100 fire ants on your eyeballs

or reading to a crowd,

"Prose so bad, it sent me
screaming out into the snow. "

You know, if you really
want to feel sorry for yourself,

you should read the review
in the Ledger.

Really? What's that damn liberal
elite media saying about me now?

"Richard Castle's stirring finale reminds
us what good pulp fiction is all about.

"It makes us desire a world
of startling imperfection,

"so we can rise above
and become the heroes

"we always imagined ourselves to be. "

It used to be such a good paper.
To see it fallen so far, it's sad, really.

Shut up! I'm proud of you.

Well, you remember that
next time I sing the peanut butter song

in front of your friends.

- Have you caught the killer yet?
- No.

Hey, if you were in a lot of trouble

and you needed a quarter of a million
dollars, where would you get it?

I'd just ask you.

- Night.
- Good night.

(SIGHS)

I'd just ask you.

- Hi!
- Hi.

There's something I need to show you.

CASTLE: I found this in the archives
from his first run for office.

See, Horn wasn't wealthy,
but his wife came from money.

She tapped into her family trust
to finance his first campaign.

All this time we thought that Horn
was hiding his affair from his wife.

Yeah.
But what if she knew about the affair?

What if he got
the blackmail money from her?

Yes, ma'am.
Account number 737-88103?

According to the administrator
of the family trust,

Mrs. Horn marketed about 300,000
worth of stocks last week.

She knew.

Bank records indicate
the funds were withdrawn

two days before the exchange.

Her husband's killed. $250,000 goes
missing. She doesn't say a word?

Of course I didn't say a word.
It's none of your damn business.

Despite the fact that it could have
had significant bearing

on your husband's murder?

I have a family, Detective Beckett.

Their father is dead.

What use is dragging their names
through the mud,

providing fodder
for late-night comedians?

When did you know?

The trust called to confirm
the stock sale.

My wonderful husband
forged my signature on the papers,

thinking I would be too stupid to notice.

And when I confronted him, he claimed
he needed the money for tax reasons.

Reasons that I wouldn't understand.
But I understood, all right.

Everything that I wanted,
everything that I wanted us to be,

and he can't keep his fly zipped.

So what did you decide to do?

(SIGHS) Between public humiliation
and blackmail,

I chose blackmail,
and I told him to make it go away.

So, what do you think
happened that night?

I don't know.

Okay. So, that night, when he called,
what did he actually say?

That he had the money.
That he was going to meet the guy.

And that was the last thing
he said to me.

And God knows
what happened after that.

And you're sure
that he had the money?

Yes. Why?

- Because we found it at your house.
- My house?

The search warrant
was served this morning.

Your housekeeper was
very cooperative.

If your husband had the money
when he was killed,

how did it get back to your house?

You were more than angry,
weren't you? You were outraged.

He didn't just betray you, he humiliated
you and everyone was going to know.

And so you just decided
to make it go away.

You see those wives in the inevitable
press conference,

standing stone-faced next to their men
and you think,

"How do they do that?
How do they just stand there?

"How do they watch as their whole
world melts into a spotlight of shame?"

And so you killed him.

No. No. I was home.

You called your husband at 11:00 p.m.
What did you say?

I was with my daughters.

Conspiracy to commit murder
is the same as murder,

whether you were there or not.
Are you ready to deal?

LAURIE: It was my job to make the call.

I was supposed to tell him that
the blackmailer changed the meet.

I was supposed to tell him where to go.

Down by the underpass
where no one would see.

He had it all arranged.
Even that rug for his body.

All I had to do was make a call.

He said he would
make everything like it was.

He said he would make it
look like someone else did it.

He said no one would ever know.

Mrs. Horn. Laurie. I need to know who.

It's not supposed to be like this.

We were friends.
And we were gonna change the world.

Frank Nesbit, you are under arrest
for the murder of Jeff Horn.

What? That's ridiculous.

Mrs. Horn doesn't think so. Cuff him.

Mr. Nesbit, you have the right
to remain silent. Any...

Hey! Hey! Hey!

Stop running, bro. Campaign's over.

(EXCLAIMS) Yes.

Wasn't quite finished back there,
Mr. Nesbit.

You have the right to remain silent.

Anything you say, can and will be
used against you in a court of law.

After we found the weapon in Nesbit's
office, he made a full confession.

He got Horn to call her husband
and get him down to the overpass,

and then he took care of the rest.

Politics was Nesbit's life.

He figured if the scandal broke,
his career would be over

and he'd be damaged goods.

Sad thing is, he was probably right.
So what happens to the girls?

Horn had a sister upstate.

She's coming down tomorrow
to pick them up from Social Services.

- Good. And the rug?
- A red herring.

Nesbit heard they were
dumping a bunch of them,

and figured it would
keep us off his trail.

Nice work. Very impressive.

Oh, and you, too, Beckett.

Sir?

Just yanking your chain, Detective.
Just yanking your chain.

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

- Hello?
- ALEXIS: Hey, Dad, where are you?

Where am I supposed to be?

Fire ants? Eyeballs?

Right! Stall for me. I'm on my way.

Sorry, sorry.

CASTLE: "She stood there
in stunned disbelief

"as the light in his eyes dimmed.

"He reached out for her,
and she took his hand,

"squeezing it for the very last time.

"She felt her heart stop a beat,
and in that moment,

"she knew he was gone.

"Darkness fell across the face of
the city, and across her face, as well.

"'Good,' she thought, as the wind
gathered up her hair.

"'No one

"'will see my tears. "'

(ALL APPLAUDING)

Thank you.

Thank you, thank you.

I don't know if I would say
that that was the most...

Detective Beckett.

To what do I owe
this very unexpected pleasure?

Excuse me. Thank you.

I just figured, if you're gonna
bother me at my work,

I should bother you at yours.

That was quite a reading. Very moving.

Are you making fun of me?

"'Good,' she thought,
as the wind gathered up her hair.

"'No one will see my tears. "'

How does wind gather up hair?
I'm just curious.

Oh, you're telling me how to do my job?

- Irritating, isn't it?
- Oh, oh, oh, oh! Oh, look at you.

Denise from the Ledger says
you're gonna be number one this week.

And look,
everyone is buying your book.

Now, don't you feel silly
for believing all those reviews?

Yes. Yes, I do.

Oh, let's just hope Nikki Heat
does as well.

- "Nikki Heat"?
- The character he's basing on you.

- "Nikki Heat"?
- Uh-oh!

- Can I talk to you for a second?
- Of course.

I wanna hear.

- What kind of a name is "Nikki Heat"?
- A cop name.

- It's a stripper name.
- Well, I told you she was kind of slutty.

- Change it, Castle.
- Well, hang on a second.

Think of the titles. Summer Heat.
Heat Wave. In Heat.

- Change the name.
- No.

- Yes.
- No.

- Change it.
- No.

- Castle?
- I'm sorry.

I have artistic integrity, Beckett.

"Artistic integrity?"

- Change the name, Castle. Today.
- CASTLE: If I cave now, what next?

What next?