Castle (2009–2016): Season 2, Episode 13 - Sucker Punch - full transcript

While investigating the death of an Irish mobster, Beckett and Castle uncover a local turf war that may be connected to both a late-night infomercial guru and an international drug smuggling operation. But the case turns agonizingly personal when evidence emerges that the killer they're chasing may have had a hand in Beckett's mother's murder.

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'd 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.

Meet the late Jack Coonan.

Why is that name familiar?

'Cause it probably crossed
over all our desks a dozen times

in the last few years.
Aggravated assault, ADW, arson.

Coonan had a heavy rep.

Word is he's an enforcer
for the Westies.

Okay, remind me.
Who are the Westies, again?

Irish mafia out of Hell's Kitchen.

They deal in cargo theft,
counterfeiting, extortion.

And public urination
on Saint Patrick's Day.

Our boy Coonan also had
a home security system.

12 gauge, hollow-point.

That thing could stop
a Kodiak in Kevlar.

Who did he think
was coming through the door?

Well, whoever it was
left him leaking from about 30 holes

that don't normally appear
in a healthy 35-year-old male.

9-millimeter SIG
still in his waistband.

Didn't even have time to pull it out.

This guy was armed and ready.
Whoever got him was very, very good.

Ninja assassin.

Ninja assassin?
Isn't that kind of redundant?

Aren't all ninjas
by definition assassins?

Fine, Webster and Roget.

and then hides himself,
I don't know, about...

Hey, look at this.
Our victim's a Johnny Vong fan.

Someone actually bought those tapes?
What?

Who's Johnny Vong?

Come on,
you're kidding me.

Every insomniac in New York
knows who Johnny Vong is.

His infomercial runs all night.

Most people think

you gotta have money to make money.

But that's not true. Look at me.

When I come to this country,
I come with nothing. I come on boat.

And now I own a boat!

- I own a boat!
- I own a boat!

Your friends might tell...

I'm sorry. Do you guys mind

if we finish dealing with the dead guy
on the carpet?

Beckett, cell phone.

Looks like it took a direct hit
from the knife.

Have Tech pull the SIM card.
I wanna know who Coonan

was talking to before he died.

- Ryan?
- Huh?

Did
My brother suffer?

Yes.

Thank you for your honesty.
I guess you could have lied to me.

No, I couldn't.

I've been on your side of the table
and when I was,

what I needed most was the truth.

I build schools in Afghanistan.

I give kids over there a fighting chance.
I get all this recognition.

And here's my big brother, Jackie,

the guy who taught me
to fight for the little guy.

- What does he get?
- Worse than he deserved.

I make no excuses
for the things my brother did.

But growing up,
we were on our own a lot.

Jackie was the toughest kid
on the block.

That's what first brought him
to Rourke's attention.

- Finn Rourke?
- Mmm.

He runs the Westies.
What did he actually do for Finn?

Jackie never said.

But whatever it was,
pretty sure it got him killed.

Castle, these Westies
can be pretty rough.

So you sure
you don't wanna stay in the car?

- No way.
- Okay.

Keep your mouth shut
and try to butch up a little.

- I'm looking for Finn Rourke.
- Is that right?

Well, as far as I'm concerned,

you and your wife there
can keep looking.

This is the part where I tell you
that one phone call from me,

and the Department of Health
will be down here.

You'll be shut down for 30 days,
I guarantee it.

Do you really wanna do that
to your boss?

It's not like I'm asking you
to cough up...

Go on now. Can't hear the game.
Tommy, pint for the pretty boy, yeah?

Settle his stomach.

Thanks.

Mr. Rourke, I'm Detective Kate Beckett.
I'm here about Jack Coonan.

And so you are.

- When did you last see Jack Coonan?
- I don't remember.

In fact, none of us remember.

And I think you'll find
the Department of Health

take a very liberal attitude
to my establishment.

And this is the part where I tell you
to pound sand, Detective.

Step away.

- Are you okay?
- Me?

No, I'm good.

Mario Mendoza, also known as Trucho.

You did four years upstate
for distribution in Queens

- and you just got off of parole.
- Congratulations.

I got a dead Westie
on my hands

and it looked like
you were about to join.

So, you want to tell me
what you were doing

in Finn Rourke's back room?

- Can I be real with you?
- Please do.

I had too much to drink
and I accidentally fell.

- You fell?
- I fell.

Well, then how'd you get that mouse
on your eye?

- I ran into the wall.
- How'd you burn your hand?

After I ran into the wall and I fell,
I put my hand down on the grill

just to break my fall.

Well, thanks for keeping it real.

Look, I get it.
The whole street code thing, and all.

But in my experience, Mario,
guys like you

end up catching another case
sooner or later.

And when you do,
wouldn't you like to have

a detective on your side?

No, thanks. I'm good.

He was my collar from back in the day.
Guy ran dope for the Latin Kings.

- Latin Kings?
- It's a violent street gang.

They mostly peddle girls and drugs.

Yeah, Trucho's their blade man,
real handy with the knife.

We never popped him for murder,

but I met plenty of folks
with fingers missing.

So was there bad blood between them?

Yeah, they're like the Hatfields
and McCoys of Hell's Kitchen.

So the Westies figured
that the Latin Kings killed Coonan.

And they snatch their blade guy

and bring him in
for a little enhanced interrogation.

- Which no one wants to admit to.
- Uh-huh.

In my experience,

if Finn went all Gitmo on him,
it was for a reason.

You got a Westie with holes in him,
Trucho's probably your guy.

He's right.

We found Trucho's vehicle in an alley
behind a little bodega in Rego Park.

- It's a big dope spot.
- And he left his little letter opener

tucked behind
the driver's side sun visor.

- That's not it.
- You didn't even look.

Sure I did. It's a stiletto,
four-inch Damascus blade,

and it's way too small
to make these wounds.

Well, maybe he used a different knife.

- Just how tall is this Trucho?
- He's 5'6".

- Standing on his toes.
- Then he's not your guy.

Thrust angle on these wounds indicate
Coonan's killer was over six-foot.

Well, maybe instead of using a stiletto,
he was wearing stilettos.

Excuse me.

Beckett. How close are you?

- Hey.
- Hey.

You okay?

Yeah, thanks. Bye.

I'm fine.

Tech's got some hits off
of Coonan's phone.

Maybe they can shed some light.

- Thank you, Lanie.
- Mmm-hmm.

The last call that Coonan made

was to a New York landline.
Because of the damage to the SIM,

it's missing the last two digits
of the phone number.

Well, that's 99 possibilities.

We better get dialing.
Ryan, I'm looking at you.

We know the numbers are all
from the same phone tree.

Here's where it gets interesting.

They all trace back
to the New York office

of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

What's an Irish
street thug doing talking to the FBI?

My program is idiot-proof.
Look at me, I never went to college.

Yo, Beckett.
The FBI agent's here.

I learned English
from VHS copy of Cannonball Run.

Wasn't that DVD supposed
to be booked in as possible evidence?

Uh... Yeah, but, you know,
I thought there might be something...

- Put it back.
- Okay.

I appreciate
your coming down, Agent Forrest.

Most of your FBI colleagues would
expect the locals to come to them.

Most of my colleagues worry about
hair products and press conferences

when they should be out
catching bad men.

I take it
you're not from around these parts.

No, sir. I'm not.

But for my many sins,

the Bureau has transferred me here
to New York.

How did you come into contact
with Jack Coonan?

He reached out to us about a week ago.

And you signed him on
as an informant.

- Nope.
- Why not?

'Cause all there were, were overtures,
and I wasn't about to trade

the family cow
for a bunch of magic beans.

- You didn't trust him.
- When a case like Coonan

reaches out to the Bureau, it's usually
'cause he crossed his bosses.

And he's hard-up
to trade them in to the Bureau

for a quick trip
into the waiting arms of WitSec.

- Who was Coonan offering up?
- Never found out.

Well, whoever it was
must've gotten wind of it.

And then killed Coonan
before he had a chance

to deliver them to the FBI.

The Westies
are a bit like the rogue state of Iran

and the great state of Texas.

They're not too shy
in handing out the death penalty.

And talking to the FBI
is definitely a capital offense.

We need to talk to Finn Rourke again.

An angel visited
Jackie's home two nights ago.

Same angel
as took the Pharaoh's first-born.

Now I know some of you think
you don't know the Angel of Death.

But trust me, lads. He knows you.

- So, here's to our darling Jackie.
To Jackie.

If he's up in heaven now,
you can be sure he broke in

when they was at vespers.

Come to honor the dead, I hope.

If not, I'll thank you
to move away out of this place.

You're lying.

You know exactly what happened
to Jack Coonan.

That once-over that you gave Trucho
was just a piece of theater

to throw them all off,
just like your eulogy.

- Now you be careful, Detective.
- Or else what?

You'll kill me
just like you killed Coonan

after he went to the feds about you?

Enough!
I'll not have you slander him like this.

- Not tonight.
- I got it straight from the FBI.

Jack reached out to them
just before he died.

He turned on you, didn't he?

You don't know
what you're talking about, boy-o.

Jackie Coonan was loyal
to his last breath.

He died in a state of grace.

Even if what you say is true,

you can be sure Jackie wasn't talking
to the Gs about any of us.

How can you be so sure?

You've heard of me.

You've heard
I'm a gangster and a thief, surely.

You've heard I've killed men.
But you answer me this, Detective.

Have you ever heard Finn Rourke
running drugs?

Someone was bringing it in here,
into my neighborhood, my backyard.

I sent Jackie
to find the bastards behind it.

Find them and punish them,
according to our rules.

Only they punished him instead.

Yeah. That they did.

Yeah.

If you've probable cause,
I suggest you arrest me now.

If not,
I'll remind you this is a private party,

and I'll thank you
to get the hell out of my place!

Another.

Give her a minute, Castle.

She can't just follow us out,
it'd be too obvious.

- You noticed her?
- I'm a homicide detective.

If there's one thing I know how to spot,
it's a lady looking to unburden herself.

She's looking for us.

No, no, no. Don't honk, Deep Throat.
You'll spook her.

- Hi. I'm Molly.
- Hi, Molly, I'm Kate.

Can we
maybe give you a lift somewhere?

Anywhere but here.

Of course I knew Jack's reputation.

It's part of what attracted me to him.

What?

You telling me you never had a thing
for bad boys, Kate?

No comment.

So, Jack never mentioned
going to the FBI?

Jack never discussed business.
But I knew he wanted out.

We talked about going somewhere
far away.

Last week, Jack warned me
he might get there first.

- Jack saw this coming?
- We spent every night together.

He couldn't get to sleep
without me next to him.

But last week,
he wouldn't even let me come over.

Anybody but Jack, and I'd have thought
he had something going on the side.

That never crossed your mind?

This is the last thing Jack ever gave me

on the last night I ever spent with him.

Jack said if things broke bad,
he wanted me to give this to the police.

And how do you know
it's to a bus locker?

It's always to a bus locker.

TSA tore most of them out,
but a few terminals still have them,

and this one is the closest
to Coonan's apartment.

Wait, wait, no, no, no, wait,
don't do that.

- What?
- Once you open it, then we'll know.

Could be an alien corpse in there,
Ark of the Covenant...

Or Johnny Vong DVDs.

You gotta be kidding me.

This is what Coonan wanted
to give to the feds?

Hold on.

No.

This is.

- Heroin.
- That was so cool, just now.

- You like that?
- Yeah, it was very Miami Vice.

Coonan wasn't going
to the feds to rat out his Westie pals.

He was looking
to rat out the drug dealer

Finn Rourke sent him to find.

Only the dealer flips the script,

knifes Coonan before he can
close the deal with the feds.

So then we find the dealer
and we find the killer.

These boxes say the DVDs
were packaged in Hong Kong.

Someone must be slipping the heroin in
before they ship.

Which means someone on this end
had to know

which boxes contain the drugs.

And which boxes contain the secret
path to financial independence.

What?

It had to be someone
in Johnny Vong's organization.

Yeah! I don't care if you're busboy.

I don't care if you wear the green apron

and serve fancy coffee
to a jerk talking on his Bluetooth.

- I was like you once.
Love you!

Then I discovered the one secret
that changed my whole life.

Who out there is ready?

This place reminds me
of my second wedding.

Yeah!

Who is ready
to close escrow on a new life?

Come on!

Don't even think about taking them off.
If you do, I will pepper-spray you.

- Mr. Vong?
- Thank you!

Mr. Vong, I'm Detective Kate Beckett
with the NYPD.

- I'd like to ask you a few questions.
- Sure. Sure, sure.

We believe that one of your employees
was smuggling heroin into the country

using your supply chain.

- Smuggle what?
- Smack.

Would you mind
if we looked into your...

Oh! Ugh!

Heroin trafficking.
That's good for a 10-year prison bid,

so I don't blame you for running.

This is all a big mistake.
I never do drugs.

Drugs are for losers.
I'm a businessman.

I try to help people achieve their goals.

So long as their goals
are to blow 300 bucks

on your bogus real estate system.

No, listen, I offer you 30-day
money-back guarantee.

If you don't start
building wealth by then,

I refund all your money,
no questions asked.

Could I make that offer
if this were some kind of scam?

- Man has a point.
- Shut up.

- You don't think, you...
- No.

Look, here's the deal.

I'm not a dope cop,
I'm a homicide detective,

so usually I don't even bother
with your sort of an operation.

But my problem, and yours,

is the fact
that you had Jack Coonan killed

in order to hide your heroin smuggling.

Wait. Jack Coonan's dead?

Whoa! Careful there, Johnny.
Your accent's starting to fade a little.

Look, I didn't come over on a boat,
okay?

I've never even been to Laos.
I'm from Danville, California.

And this whole Johnny Vong thing?

No one wants to buy a real estate
system from a Harvard MBA.

But show them an idiot
with a Rolls-Royce,

and they'll knock down doors.
So I played Johnny Vong.

You know,
people want all that Horatio Alger crap,

- so that's what I give them.
- Well, that and heroin.

How exactly did you know
Jack Coonan?

Look, whatever you think you know,
I promise you I didn't kill Coonan.

- You have to believe me.
- Do I? Nothing about you is real.

No...

I needed money
to take the program national.

He needed a way to get product
into the country.

Stupid, but once you make a deal
with the devil, you belong to him.

Who do you belong to?
Who are you working for?

- He'll kill me.
- I can protect you.

You can't. Nobody can.
You don't know what he's capable of.

You don't believe me,
ask Jack Coonan.

- Look, Mr. Vong, I...
- No.

I'll take my chances in prison.

I'd rather lose 10 years of my life
than all of it.

Whoever he's working for
scares him a lot more than prison.

There has to be a way
to get it out of him.

We could force him
to watch Paris Hilton videos.

- You want me brought up on charges?
Beckett.

- Hey, Lanie. What are you doing here?
- It's about the Coonan case.

This is Dr. Clark Murray,
he's a forensic pathologist.

I asked him to consult.

I'm Detective Kate Beckett.
This is Richard Castle, the novelist.

We've met.

Note the rectangular bruising
around these wounds here and here...

Mmm-hmm.

...caused by the hilt of the knife

striking with force enough
to compress the skin.

And as a result,

the injuries penetrate deeper
than the actual length of the blade.

He's also honed the blade so fine

it's brittle enough for bits to break
when it strikes bone,

which is why slivers of blade
were found inside both of his victims.

We now know those slivers
come from the same murder weapon.

Wait. Two victims?
How many people has he killed?

- Five that we know of.
- So we're looking at a serial.

Well, yes and no. We believe
we're dealing with a professional.

Someone
with extensive military training.

A contract killer?

I used
tomographic reconstruction

of Coonan's wounds to generate

a 3-D model of the blade used.

It's a Special Operations Group knife,

the kind favored by Special Forces
in Gulf War I.

He kills with a single blow,

using these other wounds
to camouflage the skill

with which the initial stroke
was delivered.

The very same method
and the very same weapon

that the killer employed 10 years ago.

- Lanie...
- I'm so sorry.

Detective Beckett,
there is no doubt in my mind

that Jack Coonan was killed by the
same man who murdered your mother.

I am the investigator of record
on this case.

You had no right
to withhold evidence from me.

Well, what did you expect?

The last time Castle tried to talk to you
about your mother's murder,

- you bit his head off.
- Please, Lanie.

I noticed the wound similarity.

I reached out to Dr. Murray.

I held off from telling you until I knew
the evidence was rock solid.

Beckett, we came to you
the moment we were sure.

Beckett, can I have a word with you?

Poor man's painkiller.

I know your mother's murder
was the reason you became a cop.

And I know how you almost
lost yourself

trying to solve her case
the first time you tried.

I figured sooner or later,
when you were ready,

you would wanna take another run at it.

I just never expected her killer to come
around and sucker-punch you like this.

Kate, listen to me.

You're the finest homicide
I've ever trained, bar none.

And I want you to stay on this one,
if you can. If you're up to it.

But I wouldn't be doing my job
as your captain if I didn't ask.

Can you handle this?

I'm sorry, sir. I can't.

Beckett.

Kate.

Katie.

Hey, Dad. Hi.

So, what have you found?

I don't know yet.

- But enough to scare you.
- Yeah.

I didn't sleep well that whole first year
after you got out of the academy.

I'd hear sirens in the night and imagine
you off in the darkness someplace.

I had nightmares
where it swallowed you whole.

Dad, I don't wanna lose this one.

Your mother always said that life never
delivers anything that we can't handle.

I mean, she lived by that, you know.

Called it "Johanna's Immutable Law
of the Universe. "

And for years, I thought she was wrong.

Because I couldn't handle losing her.

Now, I can almost hear her whisper,

- "I told you so. "
- Four of Mom's favorite words.

Look, she was a devout
believer in the truth.

And if she were here right now, she'd
tell you the truth can never hurt you.

You know, this may be your mother's
way of reaching out to you, Katie.

And reminding you that the truth
is still your weapon to wield.

Not theirs.

- Hey.
- Hey.

- Come in.
- Thank you.

- Hang in there, kiddo.
- Thank you, Martha.

Leftovers in the fridge.
Upstairs if you need us.

Please.

I will do anything that you need,

including nothing,
if that's what you want.

What I want is to find
my mother's killer.

Well, then we need to break
Johnny Vong.

So, let's break him.

I owe you an apology, Mr. Vong.

Apparently, in my haste,
I forgot to read you your Miranda rights.

You're free to go.

No! I remember distinctly,
you read them to me.

And I waived them all.
You did. She did.

- You remember, right?
- Sorry, man. It's a rookie mistake.

No, wait! You can't. You can't do this.

If I walk out of here now, he'll think
I'm cooperating with the cops.

I'll be dead by morning.

Yes, you will.

Or you can tell me who you're
working for and I will protect you.

Dick Coonan. I work for Dick.

You're telling me Jack Coonan's
brother is a drug trafficker?

He comes off like Jimmy Carter,

but it was all a scam to funnel money
to the warlords with the poppy fields.

Sure, he'd build a few schools
so he had pictures for his donors,

but most of the money
funded his cartel.

So, he had access
to all the dope he wanted,

he just needed
a way of getting it into the country.

You couldn't get an aspirin
from Kabul to New York

without somebody knowing about it,
not since 9l11.

All I had to do was let him package
the drugs at my factory in Hong Kong.

He'd pick up the dirty shipments
once they cleared customs.

And he had the Latin Kings
put it on the street.

Perfect system.

Well, perfect until Trucho
caught a case of stupid

and started selling in
the Westies' territory.

And then that's what brought
Jack sniffing around.

Jack threatened to give him to the feds
unless he quit.

- So, Dick killed his own brother.
- No.

Jack had been with the Westies
a long time.

No, he'd grown eyes
in the back of his head.

Dick hired a professional.

What's his name?

- He called him Rathborne.
- How do I find him?

Ask Dick Coonan.

So, any progress on the son of a bitch
who killed my brother?

We're close.
We think that Jack was killed

after Rourke asked him
to hunt down a drug dealer.

Turns out, the Westies
have done a pretty good job

with the war on drugs
these past few years.

Talk about zero tolerance.

The punishment for dealing drugs
in their neighborhood is death.

But when he tracked down
this dealer, for some reason,

Jack didn't have the heart to kill him.

That is so Jackie.
He always led with his chin.

Went through life like he was

expecting to win the Good Sportsman
award on trophy night.

Cut the crap, Coonan.

We know all about your heroin triangle.

Afghanistan, Hong Kong, New York.

And we also know that you hired
an assassin named Rathborne

to kill your brother before
he went to the feds about you.

Prove it.

Are you okay?

Ten years since we came home
and found that detective waiting for us.

Ten years since we crossed that
yellow tape and went into that alley.

And every time I cross the tape
at a crime scene, I think of that night.

Well, that's what makes
you such a good cop.

What if I let her down?

Do you know why I chose you
as my inspiration for Nikki Heat?

No. Why?

Because you're tall.

Now go in there and do your job.

I have forensic accountants

digging through your organization,
Mr. Coonan.

If there's evidence of heroin trafficking,
they will find it.

But that's not your biggest
problem right now.

Hiring an assassin like Rathborne
shows premeditation

and that makes this
a special circumstance case,

which qualifies you for the needle.

Now, I am willing to take the special
circumstance allegations off the table

if you give me Rathborne.

The only special circumstance here,
Detective,

is your complete lack of evidence
against me.

I have Johnny Vong.

The guy with the phony accent
and the real estate scam?

Is that the best you could do?

Are you really willing to bet your life

that Vong can't hold his mud,
Mr. Coonan?

Give me the killer and I will put the DA
in the mood for a second-degree plea.

When we first met, you told me
you'd been on the other side of this.

Remember?

Now, could that be why you seem

so eager to get your hands
on this mysterious assassin?

Because if I had to guess, I'd say that
someone close to you was murdered,

and you think
Rathborne had something to do with it.

But I don't have to guess, do I?

Because it's all over your face.

That still doesn't change the fact
that you're guilty of murder.

Maybe not,

but for the low, low price
of transactional immunity,

I can give you the closure
you've been seeking.

You get Rathborne, and I walk.

And that, Detective, is my final offer.

Transactional immunity, Paul.
And I'm inclined to give it to him.

Rathborne has killed
five that we know of,

including the mother
of one of my people.

It's one of our own, Paul.

I remember that used to
mean something in this town.

- Well?
- He went for it.

The District Attorney
is gonna offer Coonan immunity

if he gives us Rathborne.

I hope you know
what the hell you're doing.

- Describe him.
- About my height.

Just so average he's almost invisible.

- How did you meet?
- We were in the service together.

They said he'd been killed
back in a training exercise in '95.

But then, about a year ago,
I'm sitting at a bar

and I glance across
and I'm looking at a ghost.

It turns out he'd actually been
recruited back then, not killed,

to do, you know, the bad stuff
that governments like to deny.

How'd you hire him?

He'd given me the number to his
answering service in the Caymans.

Then they provided me
with a single-use e-mail address,

a numbered account.

E-mailed him the name of his target,
wired him the money and waited.

Okay. Here's the deal.

You're going to contact Rathborne
with a contract on Vong.

You're gonna tell him that the police
are taking him to the DA's office

for a deposition,
that he can't make it there alive.

It doesn't work like that.

He wants his money up front.
It's 100 grand, non-negotiable.

A hundred grand?
The city is never gonna agree to that.

Look, you wanna catch her killer,
the price is 100 grand.

I can't just shoot that
kind of money out into space

without any hope of getting it back.

- You can't. I can. This one's on me.
- Castle.

- Do we have a deal?
- We do.

But my client's immunity kicks in

the moment Rathborne
accepts the contract.

Once the wire transfer is complete.

As soon as Rathborne takes the job,
your part is done.

- And I walk?
- And you walk.

Rathborne has taken the bait.

Now for today's performance,
the role of Johnny Vong

will be played by Officer Clayton Lee.

We who are about to die salute you.

Ryan and Esposito will escort Lee to
the DA's office via a prearranged route.

We'll have plainclothes in place
on every corner and mid-block,

and there'll also be air support,
for what it's worth.

Not a whole lot.

No one even knows
what Rathborne looks like.

He shouldn't be too hard to spot.

Yeah, he'll be the one
who's trying to kill you.

All right. Let's go, everybody.

Be advised.

We are southbound
Lafayette approaching Worth.

Roger on Worth.

Let me know
when you clear the intersection.

We're through the intersection.
Continuing eastbound Worth.

It's a solid plan.

We're entering the parking garage.

Eyes out.

This guy's supposed to like
close-up work.

Be advised, we are now on foot.

Rathborne's making his move.

On the ground!

- Drop it! Drop it!
Don't move!

What the hell's wrong with you?
- It's a phone.

Disregard, disregard. It's not him.

We must have spooked him.
Rathborne didn't show.

- I let her down.
- No, you didn't.

Rathborne's in the wind.
Dick Coonan's about to walk.

- I missed something.
- Could have been me.

Rathborne could've checked
the routing number,

realized the money was coming
from my account, not Dick's.

I was arrogant.

I didn't think
you were arrogant, Castle.

I thought what you did was sweet.

- And I will pay you back as...
- Negative, ghostwriter.

Small price to pay
for a shot at your mother's killer.

- Her killer.
- What?

Coonan said it was 100 grand
to catch her killer.

And you never told him it was
your mother that was murdered.

There was no Rathborne.
That was just a cover. It was you.

Clever girl.

All right. Ah, ah, ah, ah.
Now here's what's gonna happen.

We're just gonna stroll on over
to the elevator together.

Nice and easy.

That'll never happen.

You make a sound,
you attempt a signal,

you so much as clear your throat
and I'll put a round in this man's liver.

And he will die slowly
and in considerable pain.

Let's go.

What, no pithy remarks
from the peanut gallery?

Not so funny facing
your own death, is it?

I don't know, Dick. You tell me.

Last time I checked,
this was a police station.

You knew
before I arrested you, didn't you?

You knew my mom was your victim.

It wasn't personal, okay?
She was just another job.

She was my mother.
Who hired you to kill her?

Forget it. You'll never touch them.
They'll bury you.

Tell me who.

No. No! No! Sir! I need him alive.

That's right. You do need me.
Now, back him off, or Castle dies.

Sir, back off. Please.

- You know I can't do that.
- Hey!

You wanna learn
who ordered the hit on your mommy,

you better make sure
I make it out of here.

Roy, please.

That's right, Roy.
Nice and easy. Nice and easy.

Come on!
Four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

One... Stay with me.

Three, four... Come on. Stay with me.

No! Come on. Stay with me.

One, two, three,
four, five, six, seven, eight...

Montgomery's post-incident evaluation.
You come off like Steven Seagal.

- Should I be flattered or insulted?
- Both.

I didn't know what you felt like,

so I got sushi, got some Italian,
got some Thai.

I even grabbed some hot dogs.

It wasn't your fault, you know.

I overstepped.

I came down here to say that I'm sorry.

And that I'm through.

I can't shadow you anymore.
If it wasn't for me...

If it wasn't for you,
I would've never found my mom's killer.

And someday soon,

I'm gonna find the sons of bitches
who had Coonan kill her.

And I'd like you around when I do.

And if you tell anyone
what I'm about to say,

there's gonna be
another shooting, but...

I've gotten used to
you pulling my pigtails.

I have a hard job, Castle,
and having you around makes it

a little more fun.

Your secret's safe with me.