Castle (2009–2016): Season 2, Episode 17 - Tick, Tick, Tick... - full transcript

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.

(The Apples in stereo's
"7 Stars" playing)

♪ 7 stars in the sky,
in the sky ♪

Yeah, Paula,
that sounds perfect.

Yeah, close the deal.

Thank you. And to you.

Hey.
Hey.

Ask me why I'm here.
You know, I ask myself
that question every day.

That was Paula, my agent,
with big news

about my book "Heat Wave."
mm-hmm.

Wanna guess?
Guessing would imply caring.

I'll give you a hint.

The headlines in the trades
might read,

"Castle best seller
to 'heat' up big screen."

Your book is being made
into a movie?

(snaps fingers)
And you are about to be
immortalized

on the silver screen.

Actually, Nikki Heat is going
to be immortalized, not me.
Yes, well, technically,

but it's been widely publicized
that you are the inspiration.

So who would you like
to play you in the movie?
(Ryan) whoa. Are you kidding?

They're really making
a Nikki Heat movie?

Dude, did I call it or what?
Ah, congrats, bro.

Thank you!
What do you think,

can we get James McAvoy
for Detective Raley?
(telephone rings)

(Esposito) I'm gonna go
with Javier Bardem.
Beckett.

In your casting dreams.
(man) Yes, I'd like to report a murder.

Do you have an address?
(Castle, Esposito and Ryan
speaking indistinctly)

Where's the fun in that?
(snaps fingers)

Okay.

Who is this?

Oh, a fan.

Tell me more about this murder.
(Ryan) Tracing.

Well, I did it.

And that's all
you need to know.

(Ryan) Got it.

Hello?
42nd and Lex.

That's Grand Central Station.
Yeah, let's go.

(Ryan) According to tech,

The phone call came from
the second booth on the end.

(woman speaking indistinctly
over P.A.)

(metal squealing and rumbling)

(camera shutter clicks)

Here's his wallet.

(man speaking indistinctly
over P.A.)

(Lanie) Thank you.

(man) You got it.

His name's Alex Peterman,
lives in Dobbs Ferry.

So it wasn't a robbery.

He's a personal injury attorney.

Taking the late train home.

Anything
other than G.S.W.S?

Nope, just the 5 shots
to the chest from a .45.

A .45 makes a pretty loud
snap, crackle and pop.

I find it hard to believe no one
heard it on the main concourse.

He must have used
a suppressor

and waited for the train
to pass by.

And let's face it--
New Yorkers are famous

for their "hear no evil,
see no evil" attitude.

I'll give you a call
with an update

once I get him back to the lab.
Thank you.

Quick--who do you want to play
you in the Nikki Heat movie?
Halle Berry.

See? Some people
are just great at that game.

You know who we could get
for you? Angelina. No.

Kate Beckett,
Kate Beckinsale.

We'll call you K-Becks.

Hey, guys,
where are we on the case?

(Esposito) We got a woman
who says that she heard

a loud sound around 8:45--

sounded like
a car door slamming.

And she said she saw
a white male,

30s, average height,
exiting the waiting room,

moving very quickly
to the 42nd street exit.

Said he was wearing a black
coat, black ball cap, sunglasses

and had some sort of beard,
maybe a goatee.

All right, let's see if anyone
can corroborate her description,

and let's make up a sketch, show
it to Alex Peterman's family,

See if they recognize the killer.
Right.

(man speaking indistinctly
over P.A.)

What is it?

(man continues speaking
indistinctly)

He called
to report his crime.

And that voice...

it's like
he did this for fun.

(camera shutter clicks,
metal clanks)

(click)

(Alexis) Hey.
You're up early.

Yes, I have a date
with Beckett at the morgue.

What nefarious plots
are you two hatching?
Uh--

My birthday is coming up.

Uh-huh.

I think
you should tell him, gram.

Sometimes he gives
good advice.

Sometimes?
Yeah, maybe you're right.

But I am not in the mood for
any of your cavalier quips.

I'll be serious
as a shark attack.

Chet has asked me
to move in with him.

I told her... that I thought
it was too soon.

They've only been dating
a few months.

When you get to be our age,
every minute counts.

To that end, I have made
a list of pros and cons.

So far the pros are winning.

"pro-- he makes me feel young."
well...

I make you feel young.
Oh, darling.

"cons--I don't want to live
in another man's home."

You are not another man.
Besides, I trained you.

Who knows what bad habits

Chet picked up along the way,
you know?
Mm-hmm.

Mother, whatever you decide,
I will support you,

the same way I have since
the last man you lived with

stole your life savings.
(sighs)

Cause of death
is multiple gunshot wounds.

Tox indicates he had a martini
about an hour before he died.

Other than that,

there is nothing interesting
about the body.

So then why the call?

The body isn't interesting.
Excuse me.

But the bullets are.

Check out the marking
on the end of the slugs.

Aftermarket factory stamps?

No.

Those aren't stamps.
They're letters.

And look,
they're hand-etched.

They spell something.

They spell...

"kinki."

No.

(bullets clattering)

"Nikki."

Nikki Heat.

That's why he called me.

That's why he said
he was a fan.

He dedicated
this murder to me.

Does he realize she's a fictional
character not a real person?

Obviously, he's delusional,
but given that Nikki Heat

is based on Detective Beckett,
maybe he's confusing the two.

And we showed
Alex Peterman's family

the sketch of our suspect.
He did not look familiar.

How are we on forensics?

C.S.U. grabbed
about 200 fingerprints,

a thousand fibers
and 60 odd D.N.A. samples,

and that was
just from the phone box.

They're working them up now...
after they clear their backlog.

Beckett. Guy on the phone's
asking for Detective heat.

(beeps)

Beckett.

(man) Nikki, did you get
the first part of my message?

Yes, I did.

Well, the second is
at the Central Park carousel.

(organ music playing)

(hinges squeak)

(door creaks)

(music continues)

(gate squeaks)

(music continues)

(music continues)

(carousel creaks)

(music continues)

♪ Castle 2x17 ♪
Tick, Tick, Tick ...
Original Air Date on March 22, 2010

(indistinct conversations)

(camera shutter clicks)

(Lanie) Same M.O.

She was shot 4 times with
a .45.

There are contusions
on the victim's left side

consistent with the muzzle
of a .45

being jammed into her ribs.

I'm guessing the killer
is left-handed.

C.S.U. pulled the slugs
from the back of the carriage?

Yes, there were letters
on the slugs.

They spell "w-i-l-l."

So he's sending a message.

"Nikki will"...

What? Nikki will what?

(police radio chatter)

Thank you, Lanie.
Mm-hmm.

(Castle) I guess it's official.
Our guy is a serial killer.

I would think
that a serial killer

would be like the holy grail
for a crime novelist.

I guess it would be if it weren't
for the Nikki Heat of it all.
Ah.

I'm feeling
a little bit responsible.

Really? Like the Beatles
are responsible

for Charles Manson
'cause of "Helter Skelter"?

Or is it more like
Jodie Foster is responsible

for John Hinckley
shooting Reagan?

If I hadn't created
Nikki Heat--

He would still be killing.

He'd just find
another reason why.

(man) All right, folks.
Make way.

(woman) Now what's going on?

Either a U.F.O. just landed
on the other side of the park...

or else the FBI is here to claim
jurisdiction over this case.

Maybe they just want to ride
on the carousel

before the line
gets too long.

Rope off a 10-foot circumference
around the carousel.

Sweep for prints
and trace evidence.

Close off the park entrance
at 6th.

Work up the entire footpath.
Mm-hmm.

Here goes.
Nikki Heat I presume.

It's Beckett.
Detective Kate Beckett.

Yeah, I read all about you
in "Cosmo."

And you must be the celebrity
writer tagalong, Richard Castle.

Special Agent Jordan Shaw.
Jor-Jordan Shaw?

The same Jordan Shaw
that broke

the Hudson Valley Strangler Case
back in 1991?

I also play
a mean game of scrabble.

Now that we all know each other,
I'd like to see the body.

Agent Shaw, my people have
already secured the area.

C.S.U. is on the scene,
and we are canvassing the park.

So as happy as I am
to see the cavalry,

there's really not much left
here for you to do.

Detective, the gods
in the Marble Halls

have sent me here to catch
a killer, which I will do

with or without your help, okay?

Now could I see the body?
That is so going in the movie.

Can you say that again,
but start from "Marble Halls"?

Unis pulled this from
a trash bin. Wallet's inside.

The vic's name
is Michelle Lewis.

According to her business card,
she's a dog walker.

There's a print here, and it's
too large to be our victim's.

Let's get it to the lab for--
(cell phone camera beeps)

What are you doing?

That print is already in the lab
and being processed.

No muss, no fuss,
no black powder on your clothes.

Wow. There's an app for that?

That's why I joined the FBI,
Mr. Castle, for the toys.

I'm really eager
to see that body.

Can I take a look
at that--

Be a chance
to check it later.

(agents speaking indistinctly)

What is going on?

They're setting up
the war room.
(drill whirs)

War room?

(whispers) Tell me everything
you know about Jordan Shaw.

She is like the federal you.

She is good.
She is real good.

She cracked open that
Hudson valley Strangler Case

when she was just 25.

I thought they caught him
off of a speeding ticket.

Well, don't ask me how, but she
profiled that he drove a Yugo.

They found a girl
tied up in the back.

Uh-huh. Jordan Shaw
saved that girl's life.

I've never seen you so excited
to meet anyone before.

No, I just--I'm--
oh, I'm impressed with--
(man) Excuse us.

(man) Watch it.
I...

Can we go see
the war room now?

(Shaw) You're running partials,
too, right?
(man) Through all databases.

The lab's getting us information
as fast as we can follow up.

I thought there was
a backlog at the lab.

I have a federal fast pass,
so I get to jump the line.

(screen beeping)
Currently we a running
35 solid leads

based on D.N.A., prints,

trace evidence found
from both crime scenes,

and we're running it through
the FBI data matrix.
(beeping)

The matrix also looks
for a connection

between the victims
in case the killer has a type

or a favorite hunting ground
or isn't killing randomly.

Both Alex Peterman
and Michelle Lewis belonged to

the same Wessex gym, but they
went to different locations.

They were both members
of moma.

Hmm. They both adopted
their dogs

from the same A.S.P.C.A.

Sounds like it does
your job for you.

A machine can collate.
It can't think.

(slams down clipboard)
it takes a mind
to hunt a mind.

Take this guy.
(Beckett) wow.

(beeping)
He calls the police
to report his own crime,

likes to kill
in heavily populated areas

and uses bullets as messages.

Now most of these stalker types
can barely tie their own shoes.

This one's different, smarter.

You almost sound like
you admire him.

I admire him the way Robert Shaw
admired the shark in "Jaws."

The better I know him,

the easier it'll be to catch him.
That's like when I'm writing.

The killer's voice
doesn't sound authentic

unless I understand
his motivation.

Well, this guy
likes to make a scene.

I wouldn't be surprised
if he was also an arsonist.

In fact, I think
that's what drew him

to the Nikki Heat character
in the first place--her name.

Speaking of Detective Heat...
Oh.

Whoa. Whoa. Guys. Listen.

Not that I don't appreciate
the royalties, but, uh,

why do you need
a hundred copies of "Heat Wave"?

If our killer is obsessed with
Nikki Heat, then so are we.

Avery, Cliff notes, please.

A real estate tycoon
is killed.

Detective Nikki Heat
catches the case

and investigates suspects
who wanted the man dead.

There's a trophy wife,
of course,

dangerous mobsters---
uh, uh, excuse me.

It's--it's a--it's
a "New York Times" best-seller.

I don't think there's a need
to make it sound quite so dry.

Thanks.

Heat's life is complicated by
a reporter named Jameson Rook,

who's following her around
for an article he's writing.

Heat and Rook verbally spar,
and in chapter 11,

admit their attraction
for one another and have sex.

(Agents chuckle)

Mm-hmm.

It's fiction.

(computer beeping)

In the end,
when the killer's revealed,

it turns out it's actually--

Oh, oh, oh.
Spoiler alert.

In deference to Mr. Castle's
artistic sensitivity,

you can all read the book
to find out the identity

of the killer.
Thank you.

And if you want me
to autograph those for you,

just form a single file line
right here.

Or not.
(computer beeps)

We got a hit. That pinkie print
off the second victim's purse

belongs to a Donald Salt,
2-time loser,

on parole for a manslaughter
conviction in 2005.

They just matched it
to the partial pinkie print

your team recovered from Grand Central.
(Castle) Two pinkie prints?

So he was at the station
and the carousel.

And the purse puts him
with our victim.

Let's mount up.

(Shaw) Yeah. Okay.
Just pulling up now.

Yep, got it.
(beeps)

Salt lives
in that brick building.

(goggles whirring)
His supervisor says
he left work an hour ago.

So he should be home
by now.

When the others get here,
we'll take him.

What is he doing?
He, um, touches things.

(whirring)
Night vision goggles. I think
I have the newer model, though.

You know,
maybe in my third book,

Nikki Heat will cross swords

with a good-looking,
yet coldhearted FBI profiler.

Call it "Federal Heat."

Or maybe not.

So howi'm... We're-- two been
we're not sleeping together.

Um...-

We're- we're not sleeping together

(Castle laughs)
We--he--
he just observes me.

Yeah. I've seen
how he observes you.

(beeping and whirring)
no, she's right.
Aside from my second wife,

This is the most sexless
relationship I've ever been in.

I've been profiling people for a long time.

(beeping) I'm hardly ever wrong.

Well, this time you are...
Wrong.

So if you're not
sleeping together,

Why do you keep him around?

You know I can hear you?

He's actually proven
to be surprisingly helpful.

Hmm. Have to take
your word on that.

(beeps and whirs)

Put the taser down.

(beeps)

(taser powers down)

Okay, the team's here.

You stay in the car.

You heard her, Castle.
Stay.

Could you at least
crack the window for me?

(motor whirs)

(man) Come on. Let's go.
Move, move.

Let's make it quick
and bloodless.

(man) Go, go, go, go.

Hang on.

Stop! FBI!
Hey!

(grunts)

(taser powers up)

(click)
Aah!

(electricity crackles)
Aah! Oh!

Oh!

(beep)
Ohh! Oh!

Oh!

See, I'm helping.

Yeah. I'll buy you
an ice cream later.

(Beckett) Agent Shaw,
we got a problem.

His pinkie finger's missing.

(groans)

Which one of you
is Nikki Heat?

(sighs)

So I was on one of those
internet barter sites,

And I was looking--

It, uh, doesn't matter
what I was looking for.

But I came across the ad.

"finger wanted.
Will pay top dollar."

And what's top dollar
for a pinkie finger?

5,000 bucks.

Sounds like a real deal.

Hey, you get less than that
for a kidney.

So anyway,
I e-mailed him back.

I told him I had
everything he wanted.

You gave him the finger.
What more did he want?

He wanted me to have
a violent felony conviction

and to be recently paroled.

And you also had to be
willing to suffer through

the indignity
of a false arrest.

He told me Detective Nikki Heat
would be coming for me...

and it might get physical.

He didn't mention anything
about Captain America

with the taser gun.

So he warned you

that he would be planting
your print at a murder scene.

Which is why you have
an alibi.

Was perched on
my favorite bar stool

at McSorley's
until closing every night

since that man took my digit
and walked away with it

in his cooler.
Is this the man?

I'm not sure.
I didn't really see him.

He had a hat and sunglasses.
Who bandaged your finger?

He did.

He said you'd notice.

Ooh,e gentle with me,Nikki.

(bandaid crackling)

There's numbers here.

This looks like a code.

(Castle) Severed digits,

A secret code--this is like
one of my books.

You should've been with me
on the recapitator case.

What, that guy in Phoenix who
switched his victims' heads?

That was your case?

(Avery) Our techs
have run the numbers

through all conventional
cryptology. We can't crack it.

Which means what?
There's either a reference key
that we don't have

or the code itself is just
a random string of numbers.
It's not random.

He bought another man's finger
so he could leave a print

that would lead us
directly to this code.

It's how he taunts Nikki.

"are you clever enough
to solve my riddle?"

So whatever
this reference key is,

he thinks you can find it.

Those numbers
could mean anything.

(Castle) Well, the left-hand
column is less than 300.

Right-hand column
is no more than 260.

And the combination
of the joined pair

Most likely yields a word.
Words.

It's "Heat Wave."

When we typeset a manuscript,
it's usually 300 words a page.

And "Heat Wave"
is less than 300 pages.

First column
is a page number...

Counting backwards
from the bottom.

79. Second column
is a word.

32, 33. "I."
126--80, "will."

145--204, "kill."

"I will kill"...

Hang on. I'm uploading
the text right now.

(computer beeping)

"I will kill

"someone else before

"midnight tonight
unless you stop me."

Midnight.
That's eight hours away.

He's putting us on the clock.
He's daring us to stop him.

(indistinct conversations)

Kickin' it old-school?

The white board's
always worked for me.

I've been going over
subway routes,

trying to see
if I can trace a pattern

from Grand Central
to the carousel

to the next location,
and so far, nothing definitive.

Well, maybe there's something

about how he chooses
his victims.

First a man, then a woman.
A lawyer and a dog walker?

Let's face it.
There's no pattern there.

There's no way to predict
where he's gonna go next,

And it's already 9:00,
and we're out of time.

And every murder he commits
in the name of Nikki Heat...

A very wise woman
once told me,

you can't blame Jodie Foster
for John Hinckley.

But you can blame her
for "Nim's Island."

(chuckles)

(man) Llead just came in now.
(man) Let's get it to Avery.

What have you got?

Lab results came back
on that bandage.

Tested positive
for formaldehyde,

methanol and ethanol.

Embalming fluid.
Embalming fluid.

The lab found traces of
formaldehyde at Grand Central

and ethanol at the carousel.

Our killer
works at a mortuary.

Or he could be
a hospital employee

or a janitor at a morgue.

No. Castle's theory
is more likely.

Bring up all the mortuaries
in the city.

We've got over a thousand
in the New York City area alone.

We can't hit all these
before midnight.

Can you cross-reference
mortuary experience

with criminal records?
Or job finder groups for ex-cons.

Yes!
I can try.

Six names.

Mobilize the troops.
I want every one of these guys

in our custody
before midnight.

I see what you mean
about him being helpful.

Any of these undertakers
look good for it?

They all say the same thing,
"we work with dead bodies

all day,
we don't need to make more."

He baited us, just like
with that fingerprint.

We're wasting our time.

He's on the phone.
He's asking for Nikki Heat.

We're tracing the call.

(mouths word)

Hello.

Nikki?

You were supposed to stop me.

I wanted you to stop me.

Tell me where you are.

Will you come alone?

Yes, just you and me.

We can figure this out.

I can help you.
You just need to trust me.

Tell me something...

how does it feel
to know that you have failed?

(clatters)

(tires squealing)

Check the stairs.
Get a unit on the roof.

I want eyes on every inch
of this structure.

He was just here.
That body can't be too far.

Over here!
A lot of blood.

(man yells indistinctly)
A woman's shoe.

Got a broken heel.

Strands of hair.
Looks like she put up a fight.

There's four shell casings.

There's no way
she would've survived

without medical attention.
Then where's the body?

He always leaves the body
where he kills.

And he always kills
in famous places

with lots of foot traffic.

He's changing his M.O.

which makes him
more unpredictable,

which makes him
more dangerous.

Structure's clear.
There's no body.

Where the hell
did he put her?

(Beckett)
He put her in his trunk.

That blood trail ends
right here.

So he waited,
probably left his car idling,

takes down his victim,
popped his trunk, put her in,

drove away, body on board.
Get the parking attendant

to give us a list
of all the vehicles through here

and the video footage.
Mm-hmm.

You think
he used his own car?

No, but if he
stole it tonight,

he might not have had time
to switch the plates.

We put out an A.P.B.
I'll get my guys to get a roster

Of all the people who had
monthlies on this floor.

My people are already on it.

I got way more people
than you do.

Your captain has a unit
on your apartment.

Go home. Get some rest.
It's not necess--

No argument. You're no good
to me if you're burned out.

(roaring)

(Martha) He roars
like an angry, caged animal.

He's heading towards
the outer hatch area.

The blows don't seem to be
injuring his hands.

There's no--there's no blood
that I can see.

(Castle) Hey.

Hi.
What are you still doing up?

Oh, can't sleep.
Too much on my mind.

You know,
decisions to make and...

Wow. One of
your old wedding videos.

(laughs) Oh-ho-ho.
Are you kidding?

This guy's a pushover
compared to my ex-husbands.
(remote beeps)

So the pros
outweighed the cons?

Darling, this was always
supposed to be

a temporary situation--un-until
I got back on my feet, you know.

Well, the Rodgers women
always follow their hearts.

Yeah.

You okay?

This case, it just...

If it wasn't for my book--

What are you gonna do,
darling,

stop writing because some idiot
has got a screw loose?

No, it's just...

I never intended
to put her in harm's way.

Let me tell you something
about Kate Beckett.

That gal can take care
of herself.

Really.

(floorboard creaks)

(creak)

(gun clicks)

Whoo! Wow!

Castle?
What are you doing here?

(pants) Wine?

(cork pops)
So what happened
to your security detail?

I didn't see anyone outside.

I sent them home
after I got in.

What?

The windows are locked,
the door is locked,

I'm armed.

So our guy killed the others
where they were found.

Why not this girl?

Why didn't he just leave her
in the garage

where we'd find her?

He's changing it up.

Or this victim is special.
Oh, no, thanks.

No, no, Agent Shaw said
we need to decompress.

Nothing decompresses like
a 2000 Châteauneuf-du-pape.

Oh, well, if special agent Shaw
said so...

What is that supposed to mean?

Nothing. I just see the way
that you listen to her,

the way that you look
at all of her fancy equipment.

Now my murder board's
not enough for you?

Now you need a smart board?

Are you jealous?
I'm not jealous. I'm just embarrassed...

(scoffs)
the way that you act like
a 10 year old,

all impressed
by her data matrix.

"oh, it collates information
so quickly, Agent Shaw.

Tell me all about it."
You are ridiculous.

And then to top it off, you are
now building theory with her.
So?

So you're supposed to be
building theory with me.

You're supposed to be
on my team.

Well, I thought we were all
on the same team?

We are. It's just... I think
that if you have an insight,

you should
run it by me first.

Fine. I will.
Now drink your wine.

Thanks.

But I am tired.

And... I need to go to bed.

Oh, no. I'm not leaving.

I'm here to protect you.

What, with your vast arsenal
of rapier wit?

There is a madman
gunning for you because of me.

I am not
going to leave you alone.

Okay, fine.
I am too tired to argue.

But if I see
that doorknob turn,

I will have you know,

Mr. Castle, that I sleep with a gun.
Understood.

(grunts)

(dishes clatter)

(clank)

(sizzling)

You're still here...
And you're making pancakes?

I was hoping for bacon and eggs,
but your eggs are expired

and your bacon
has something furry on it.

Yeah, well,
I mostly order in.

I figured that
from the styrofoam temple

you've got going on
in that refrigerator.

Coffee's brewed. I think
your filter's broken though.

I'll order you
a new one later.

Wow. Looks like
you thought of everything.

(snaps fingers)
Except the paper.

Castle, we don't have time
for the paper.

There's a body out there
that I gotta find.
Woah!

Looks like it found you.

(camera shutter clicking)

So you had
just gotten up, right?

Yeah. Castle just finished
making breakfast,

and he went to the door--
What kind of breakfast?

Uh, I'm sorry?

What kind of breakfast
was he making?

Pancakes.

Well, isn't that domestic?

Anyway,

the paper usually arrives
at 4:00, and we were up at 7:00.

So that means the killer had
a 3-hour window

where he could've left
the body there unnoticed.

And exactly what time

did you and Mr. Castle
go to bed last night?

I think we're done here.

Dude, I see
Beckett in her jammies...

(clinks glass)
Wine glasses on the table.

There's nothing going on
with Beckett and me.

No more than there was yesterday.
Dude, you made her pancakes?

It's just breakfast.
Pancakes is not just breakfast.

It's an edible way
of saying,

"thank you so much
for last night."

Castle, come on.
We're your friends. Details.

(camera shutter clicking)

(whispers)
All right. Come here.

(indistinct conversations)

(loud voice)
There are no details.

I can't even look at you
right now.

Witness refuses
to cooperate.

(camera shutter clicking)

Now we know
why he took the body.

"I know where you live."
this was a threat.

More than that.

He's saying
he's disappointed in you.

In his mind,

he gave you fair warning that
he was going to kill again.

If you had been smarter, you
would've been able to stop him.

He's saying,
"this one is on you."

I'm profiling him, Detective,
not agreeing with him.

The guy
is a friggin' nut bar.

Don't let him get to you.

Talk about irony.

Do we have an I.D. on our vic?
No, not yet.

There's no purse, no missing
person's report filed.

The coroner's van's
downstairs.

We need to get the body to
the morgue and pull the slugs.

Only four entry wounds.

If the pattern holds,

he should have a 4-letter word.

That's sunny. I have
a 4-letter word for him, too.

Why don't you two escort
the body to the morgue

and let me know what you find?
Okay.

Once you're dressed,
of course.

(police radio chatter)

Hey. Heard you two
were making pancakes

when the body dropped.

Nothing happened.
Right.

So what do you got?

Letters on the slugs.

"b-u-r--"

"burn." Nikki will burn.
Well, that's chilling.

Our victim's fingerprints
aren't in the system.

Do you have anything
that can I.D. her?

Well, I found formaldehyde on her.
Yeah, that's from the killer.

He left it
at the other scenes as well.

Not traces. It was under
her fingernails, in her hair.

She worked
with embalming fluid.

I also found traces of clay,
polyurethane and animal blood.

I don't know who she is, but I
can tell you what she does.

(Castle and Beckett)
She's a taxidermist.

It's so cute,
the way you two do that.

Taxidermy?
Embalming fluid plus animal hair

equals Norman Bates'
favorite pastime.

It can't be just a coincidence
that we found embalming fluid

at our first two crime scenes
as well.

So the killer and this victim
were connected.

(Beckett) It seems so.

So there's only seven
taxidermy shops in the city.

My guys are running them down
right now.

But if there was a connection
between them,

why didn't comparison matrix
find it?

Maybe it's not as simple
as a work relationship

or going to the same gym.

Like you said, it takes a mind
to hunt a mind.
Yo.

We got an I.D.
on our third vic.

Her name is Sandra Keller.

She works
at a taxidermy shop downtown.

Any connection
between her and our killer?

A colleague of hers said
she had a run-in with a guy

who maybe matched our sketch--
a customer whose Bichon Frise

had been killed in the park
by another dog--a Rottweiler.

Customer was heartbroken.

He paid half up front
to have his Mr. Bumpkins

preserved for eternity.

When he came back to pick up
his dog, didn't have the fee.

When Sandra refused
to give up stuffed Bumpkins,

the guy went ballistic
and stormed out of the store.

Two nights later,
they had a break-in.

Among the things that
went missing are this guy's

stuffed Bichon Frise
and a bunch of embalming fluid.

That explains why we found traces
of it at the murder scenes.

He also trashed
the store's computer.

There's no client data, no name.
My agents interviewed

all of Michelle Lewis'
dog walking clients.

One couple had to put
their Rottweiler down because

Michelle lost control of it,
and it killed another dog.
Mr. Bumpkins.

So grief-stricken, our killer
blames Michelle and Sandra

for the loss of his best friend
and decides to get revenge.

All of this about a dog?

What does this have to do
with Nikki Heat?
The dog's the trigger.

Maybe he was reading the book
when it was killed.

When he snapped, he somehow
blamed Nikki for it.

It seems a little absurd.

You must be a cat lover.

Detective, he's looking for
a reason to kill. This is it.

(Esposito)
What about our first vic?

How does Peterman
fit in to all this?

(Castle) Well, he was
a personal injury lawyer.

Maybe our murderer
wanted to file

a wrongful doggy death suit.

(Avery)
According to Peterman's notes,

back in January, he had
a meeting with a Ben Conrad

over a lawsuit
about a dead dog.

Peterman declined to take
the case though.

That's the last piece
of our puzzle.

What do you have on Conrad?
(clicks keyboard key)

(computer beeps)
Just a photo from the D.M.V.

(beep)

(beeping)

(beeping continues)

Got you,
you son of a bitch.

Yeah.

Okay.

Okay, sweetie.

Mommy's gotta go
arrest somebody, okay?

I'll be home for dinner.
All right. I love you.

Bye.

You're a mom?
Yeah.

And you can holster your gun.
You're both staying here.
What? No, come no.

This is the final takedown.
You can't let her do this to us.

No, Agent Shaw is right.
I'm his target.

I can't compromise your team

by walking into the line of fire.

We'll take him down.
It'll still be your collar.
Mm-hmm.

Wow. She's a mom. I never
would've pegged her for that.
(cell phone ringing)

I figured she was
a career-driven woman

with no time for a family.
Well, not everybody makes that choice.

Beckett.
He's calling for you.

Put him on.

Hello.

Oh, you think you're so smart,
don't you, Nikki?

You think, what, just because
you found me that you won?

(whispers)
He knows we're here.

(normal voice) It's over, Ben.
Time to give up.

No, it is not over!

Ben, listen to me.
You're surrounded.

I need you
to put the gun down.

You know
I can't do that, Nikki.

Ben, I need you to step outside
of your apartment

with your hands raised.

That's not our game.
One of us has to die.

No one has to die.
Somebody always has to die!

And since it can't be you...

Ben.

(gunshot)

(Shaw) Go!

(man) Go! Go! Go!

(man) Kitchen's clear!

(man) Bathroom's clear!

(camera shutter clicks)
(Shaw) We're sending
the gun to ballistics,

but given it's a .45,
it's probably the same one

he used on our other victims.

And probably the same one
he was gonna use on you.

Uh, actually, no.

He was planning something
a little bit more spectacular.

Cell phones?

He was making
a detonator.

(three beeps sound)

(male voice) Good-bye, Nikki.
Good-bye, Nikki.

(beeps and clatters)
He was extracting formaldehyde

from the embalming fluid
he stole to create cyclonite--

A near
military-grade explosive.

When you profiled him, you said
he was probably an arsonist.

I also said
he liked to make a big scene.

Schematics of the precinct.

He was planning on killing you

and taking
the whole station with you.

"Nikki will burn."
I can see the poetry in that.

The terrible,
homicidal poetry.

I just wouldn't have profiled
this guy as suicidal.

I guess once we found him,

it was the only way he could
control the situation.

Well, at least Conrad saved us
the trouble of a trial.

And the best news is,
I'm out of your hair.

The best news...

is that it's over.

(police radio chatter)

Hey.

I thought you went to bed
an hour ago.

I couldn't sleep.

I thought the case
was over.

Oh, it is. Wrapped up
all nice and neat.

That's a good thing, right?

In a book,
that's a good thing.

In real life,
nothing is that neat.

What's got you still up?

Gram.

I can't believe
she's leaving tomorrow.

I mean, yeah,
when she first moved in,

I couldn't imagine having her
around all the time.

But now I...
can't imagine her being gone.

Listen...

It's a fact of life.

People we love leave us.

Unless you chain 'em
to a radiator,

which for some reason
is illegal.
(chuckles)

But, uh... knowing her...

(whispers) She'll be back
in six months.

(Martha) Oh, good.
You're both up.

Darling, I need you to help me
decide on what to take.

Oh, and I need to get
my bags down.

Richard, could you
give us a hand?

(normal voice) A hand.

What?

The bruising pattern
on the second victim--

The killer used
his left hand.

And... you see
his handwriting?

Look at the slope on the "4"
and the loop on the "6."

Yeah. So he was left-handed.

Well, Ben Conrad shot himself
with his right hand.

If the man in the window
was Ben Conrad,

He would've shot himself
on the left side.
(gunshot)

Ben Conrad
didn't kill himself.

Ben Conrad was murdered
by the man in the window.

Ben--Ben's not our killer.

The real killer
was just playing with us.
But the evidence--

No, it was--it was planted there
to lead us to Ben.

He wants us to think
it's over.

He wants us to drop our guard.

He wants to make a big scene.

"Nikki will burn."

Beckett.

Oh, God.

(keypad beeps)
Montgomery took the detail
off her place. She's alone.

(phone rings)

(cell phone ringing)

(water running)

She's not picking up.
Call the precinct.

Tell them to get over there
right away.

Tell them we were wrong. Tell
them the killer's still alive.

You lock this door behind me.
Don't let anyone in.

Captain Montgomery, please.
Yes, tell him it's an emergency.

(water running)

(cell phone ringing)

(handles squeak)

Come on, Beckett. Pick up.
Pick up the phone. Pick it up!

(ring)

(water drips)

(ring)

(ring)

(beep)

What, Castle?

It wasn't Ben Conrad.
He's not the killer!

The killer's still alive!
The killer's still alive!

(three beeps sound)
(man) Good-bye, Nikki.

Kate!

(people shouting indistinctly)

(debris clatters)