Castle (2009–2016): Season 3, Episode 14 - Lucky Stiff - full transcript

Mr. Hixton, is everything all right?

Mr. Hixton.

Kill Me Now.

You got the cell phone bill?

No, books from my publisher
for back cover quotes.

Wait. What about the cell phone bill?

Nothing.

Ah! More books to endorse.

You couldn't possibly read them all.

Don't have to.

"A tour de force in terror,
Richard Castle. "

"Does for hot tubs
what Jaws did for the ocean. "

Gram, there's a letter for you.

Looks official.

"Bachman and Sabasto. "
Oh, Chet's estate lawyer.

They probably resolved the probate...

You okay?

This memory of him
caught me by surprise.

Do you think he left you
anything in his will?

Well, he certainly didn't need to. But if...

Oh, my...

Mother, what's wrong?

A million dollars?

Your mom must be in shock.

Any idea what she's gonna do with it?

Well, if I'm lucky, get a place of her own.

Yeah, that would be lucky.

Can't buy much in Manhattan
for a million bucks.

Wow.
Foosball, basketball, a motorcycle?

The owner of this place
clearly had 10 times that.

Try 100.

Victim's name is Jay Hixton.

He won a cool 117 mil
in the Florida lottery last year.

And then he went
on a serious shopping spree.

Rookie mistake.

- Sounds like the voice of experience.
- Mmm.

Writing a bestseller in college
is a lot like winning the lottery.

I spent every penny of it in six months.

Good thing I'm not a one-hit wonder.

Single gunshot to the chest.

somewhere between
11:00 and 2:00 last night.

That's a big gun.
It's too big for that entry wound.

This isn't the murder weapon.

Told you she'd spot it first off.

Our victim was shot
with a 9mm automatic.

The bullet went straight through him.

We pulled the slug
out of the poker table.

Okay, so maybe our killer
forces Hixton to open the safe.

The. 357 is hidden inside.

Hixton pulls it out, they struggle,

and he gets shot.

It's a winning ticket.

Hard to believe a little slip
of paper's worth over 100 mil.

What would you do
if you won that kind of money?

Easy. Buy a Ferrari.

I have one.
Not as great as you would think.

Yeah, but they're hella fast.

Fast as every other car
in rush hour traffic.

Any idea how much money was in here?

$ 100,000, secured in a bank bag.

This is Reginald Easley.
He's Mr. Hixton's servant.

"Servant"?

Young man,
I am a traditional English butler.

I apprenticed at Buckingham Palace.

Did he always keep
that much hard cash in the safe?

Mr. Hixton came from
an impoverished background.

He found having
hard currency around reassuring.

How many people
knew that it was there?

Dozens, no doubt.

He had a habit
of buying everything in sight.

No thought to how much money
he was flashing around,

or how dangerous it was to tell people

that there was plenty more of it at home.

In New York, that's like inviting
someone back to your house to kill you.

Did he keep that gun in the safe?

That's the odd thing, miss.

I know every item in this apartment.

I have never seen a gun.

But I do know he kept a dye pack
in the bag that was stolen.

And how was it triggered?

It was on a three-minute timer
that began

when the bag left the apartment.

All right, grab some uniforms,
canvass the area.

The killer couldn't have gotten
very far before that pack exploded.

When was the last time
you saw Hixton?

Yesterday evening. He left about 5:00.

I believe he had made plans
with his wife.

He was married?

Oh, yes, with a teenage daughter.

They'd been separated for some
months before I began to work for him.

Apparently the money
caused some kind of a rift.

We were so happy then.
Trips to Paris and trips to Rome,

and cars with heated seats, and...

But then everyone started
looking at us different.

Like we were freaks.

You could see them thinking,
"Why you? Why not me?"

And nothing we did was good enough.

So we moved here.

It was supposed to be a fresh start.

Why were the two of you separated?

That money, it was... It was like poison.

Jay couldn't stop spending it, and...

And Nicole...

It's okay, Mom.

Nicole got hooked on drugs.

And it was the wake-up call
we needed, really.

Jay and I went from not talking
to getting Nicole clean.

And then he started
using his money for good.

He found this soup kitchen on
the Bowery that was in dire straits.

He said that looking
at all those people in need

just reminded him of that
if it wasn't for that lottery,

we'd be right there ourselves.

He started going there
almost every day.

It just reminded me of how much...

How much I love him.

Where was it the two of you ended up
going last night?

Last night?

His butler said
that the two of you had a date.

No. Jay called to cancel
at the last minute.

He told me something had happened,

something that we had
to deal with together.

And I tried to get him to tell me
what it was, but he wouldn't.

And where did he call from?

The Bowery soup kitchen. I think.
It's where we were supposed to meet.

Did he have problems with
anyone there that you know of?

No one in particular.

It was a pretty rough crowd.

All my years as a mystery writer
point to one unequivocal killer.

The butler did it.

- Oh!
- Come on!

How many cases have we actually had

where there's a butler
as a potential suspect?

It would be a crime if he didn't do it.

And then he shows up the next morning
and calls the cops?

- Pretty clever, right?
- Well...

Speaking of clever,
I noticed at the crime scene

you never mentioned what you
would do if you won the lottery.

No, I didn't.

Is that because it's embarrassing?
Ooh! Scandalous.

I actually haven't really
thought about it, Castle.

So not embarrassing or scandalous,
just secretive.

Bad news travels fast.

The man was generous to a fault.

When he first started coming here,
he'd hand out $ 100 bills

like they were nothing.

It got so bad, I had to ask him to stop.

Why?

Well, we were attracting a bad element.

Still, I'd see Mr. Hixton sneak money

to a pregnant woman or a homeless kid.

It was a compulsion for him,

like he had to give it away
'cause he didn't deserve it somehow.

Winner's guilt.

It's actually quite common
with lottery recipients.

Did anything suspicious
happen with Mr. Hixton

when he was here last night?

Now that you mention it, yeah.

A man was hanging around
a good part of the afternoon.

Someone you didn't know?

I'd never seen him before.
But he went right up to Mr. Hixton

when he arrived at 6:00
like he knew him, you know?

A few minutes later,
they left and never came back.

Do you think you could describe him
to a sketch artist?

So, our mystery man
goes to the soup kitchen,

waits for Hixton,
and then takes him where?

He wasn't killed for another six hours.

And why wait?
I mean, if the guy wanted to rob Hixton,

why not just take him home
and empty his safe?

And then there's Hixton's gun.

Why did he need it,
and where did he get it?

Well, according to CSU, nowhere legal.

The serial numbers
were filed off the gun,

and Hixton's prints
were on the bullets in the chamber,

which means he loaded it himself.

Found our lottery winner's money bag.

Where'd you find it?

Alley behind Hixton's building.

It was empty, but as you can see,
the dye pack in the bag went off,

and it must've gotten
on our killer's hands

because we got prints.

Belonging to one Todd Shipley,

a maintenance worker
in Hixton's building.

He got off right around the time
that Hixton was killed.

Yeah, but if he's a maintenance worker,

he could've picked up the bag
after the dye pack went off.

I don't think so.

Either that guy really
likes Avatar...

Or he's our killer.

I swear, I found the bag on the ground,

and when I opened it,
it went off in my face.

That bag was on a three-minute timer.

Are you telling us that you

accidentally picked it up
at exactly the wrong time?

Man, I'm telling the truth!

I'd just gotten off work,
stopped to get a soda

when I saw someone
running out of the alley.

This someone that ran away,
what'd they look like?

I don't know. It was dark.

So's your future, Todd, if you
don't start telling us the truth.

Man, I am!

Yo, ask Mr. Lee at the Korean grocery.

He's the one that sold me the soda.

Timer was set for three minutes.

There's no way he could've gotten
downstairs from the 20th floor

and bought a drink
before the dye pack exploded.

All right, tell me this,

did you see Hixton in the building
at all during your shift?

Yeah, I was in the lobby
when he came home around 11:00.

He was sweating like he'd been walking.

And since he'd left earlier
in his Escalade,

I asked him where his car was.

He said someone had taken it from him.

So, Mr. Lee confirms Shipley's alibi.

And Hixton's car is definitely missing.

Well, it can't be a coincidence

that on the same day Hixton's car
was taken, he was killed.

The killer could've gotten Hixton's
home key when he took his ride.

Address was on the registration.

He liked the car so much,
he drove over to rob the apartment

and got caught in the act.

Yeah, but why would Hixton go home?

Why wouldn't he call the police,
report the theft?

Okay.

The tracking company's got a lock
on Hixton's Escalade.

Looks like it's heading west
on Canal Street.

That's the Holland Tunnel.

Our killer's making a run for it.

Name is Shawn York.

Jersey police caught him driving
Hixton's car down the turnpike.

No sign of the stolen money, though.

No disrespect to our Jersey brethren,
but let's check that car again.

Make sure that that money's
not hidden behind a door panel

or inside the wheel well.

You got it.

Hey, Ryan,

what would you do
if you won the lottery?

Winery.

See? Everyone thinks about it.

Everybody thinks about what?

What they would do
if they won the lottery.

A big-ass boat, 60-footer.

Monster spinnaker hanging off the bow,

two deep-sea rods
hanging off the stern.

Sweet.

Okay, while you guys are fantasizing
about the size of your rods,

I'm gonna go
and interrogate our suspect.

Can I get a soda?

I'm not your flight attendant.

I'm a Homicide detective.

Homicide?

You're a bit of a rambler, Shawn.

Assault in El Paso,
criminal trespass in Memphis,

and now first degree murder
in New York City.

Wait, time out. Who did I kill?

Jay Hixton.

No. He was alive when I saw him.

That was at the soup kitchen,
where you jacked his car.

But then you got greedy and you
followed him to his apartment.

He ends up dead,
you end up 100 grand richer.

I didn't kill the guy, and I
sure as hell didn't steal his car.

Well, then how
did you end up driving his car?

He gave it to me.

He gave you a $ 70,000 car.
Why would he do that?

Look, I heard on the street
Hixton believed in second chances,

so I tracked him down,

told him I was down on my luck.

Hixton said
he didn't have his checkbook,

but did I want his car?

I thought he was yanking my chain.
Who does that?

But, you know, he signed over
the title and handed me the keys.

He just signed over the title,
just like that?

Yes, ma'am.

Said he wasn't gonna need it anymore.

Where were you last night at midnight?

I went to the late movie
near my apartment.

They're having a Tony Jaa marathon.

Can I have that soda now?

Theater clerk confirms
selling York the ticket,

and Hixton's signature
on the car title is authentic.

Who gives away their car?

Someone who can afford to buy
1,000 new ones.

So at 6:00, Hixton gives York his car,

and then at 8:00,
he calls his wife and cancels dinner.

Told her that there's something
they need to talk about,

something that they both need
to deal with together.

Then he gets home at 11:00,
and about an hour later, he's killed.

So what was he doing in the meantime,
and with whom?

You know,
the guy did like to spend money.

If he made any charges
on his credit card last night,

it might give us a clue
as to where he was.

Well, if he spent any money
the night he was killed, it was cash.

There are no charges
on any of his 32 credit cards.

Thirty-two credit cards?

Yeah, one for every NFL team.

And that's just the tip of the iceberg.

He also bought a racehorse,

a minority stake
in a lingerie football team,

and a Bentley, which is currently
at the bottom of the Hudson River

because he drove it off of a boat
he was renting.

Wow. Sounds like that money
really turned Hixton

into a different person for a little while.

Yeah, money doesn't change
who you are.

It just magnifies your personality.

Well, it wasn't all bad.

He also bought a house for the clerk
that sold him the winning ticket,

a mausoleum for his dead neighbor,

and three acres on the moon.

Get out of town.

He's right down the crater from me!

Why doesn't it surprise me
that you have property on the moon?

You know what, laugh it up.

When the Earth is a desiccated husk,
you will be begging

to come live with me
in the Nectaris Basin.

Hey.

So, I searched the car.

Oh. Yeah. Sorry, York is not our guy.

It's okay. Jersey impound lot's
nice this time of year.

So, no money, as expected,
but I did find this...

A camera.

...lodged under the front seat.

Clearly, it belongs to Hixton.

These are surveillance photos.

Yeah, a dozen of them.

Date stamped last week.
Hixton was following this guy.

All right, contact the family and butler.

See if anyone recognizes him.

Meanwhile, we've got a hole in our
timeline that needs to be plugged.

So, we know that Hixton
called his wife at 8:00 pm,

and we know
he wasn't at the soup kitchen.

Let's ping the carrier,
see if they know where he was.

What?

Would you quit your job?

If you won the lottery,
would you quit being a cop?

Well, what else would I do?

Supermodel, brain surgeon,

American Gladiator.

Oh, you got me there, Castle.

I've always wanted to leave the force
and become an American Gladiator.

Why don't you wanna tell me?

Because there's nothing really to tell.

Come on. You must have a dream.

Sure, I do.

Solve this case, go home,
take a nice long bath.

But it doesn't look like
that's going to happen tonight.

Hixton's phone carrier.

Hey, Esposito.

That phone call to Hixton's wife
came from the 500 block of Lexington.

I don't think we can get
a more exact address

so we're gonna have to canvass.

Or maybe not. I just saw
Lexington Avenue in his financials.

Yeah, right here.

He wrote two checks last month,
$ 10,000 each,

to a company called Meech Industries.

Meech? Logan Meech?

Yeah, he's listed here as the owner.

- You know him?
- Yeah.

I must have arrested the guy,
like, half a dozen times.

He's a low-rent scam artist
with a history of violence.

Last time I busted him,
he was trying to grill-cheese a guy

in a dry cleaning press.

Why would Hixton be writing checks
to a character like that?

Logan Meech.

Detective. I love what
you've done with your...

Sit down.

Hi. Who's the new guy?

Why, you wanna send him
Christmas cards from death row?

What? Wait. I didn't kill anybody.

So it's just a coincidence
that you were with Jay Hixton

shortly before he was shot to death
in his apartment.

What, Hixton's dead?

He was one of my investors.

Really?

What is it Mr. Hixton was investing in?

My relief organization.

Why is it I'm thinking the only
relief Mr. Hixton's money provided

was to your own bank account?

Did Hixton get on
to your scamming him?

Did he threaten to go to the cops?
Is that why you killed him?

I told you, I didn't kill him.
I hadn't seen him in weeks.

That's funny, because I talked
to your landlord, and he said

that he remembers clearly seeing
Hixton at your place last night.

So either you start telling us
the truth and playing ball,

or I call the DA and get them
to draw up murder charges.

Okay, look. Hang on a minute now.

Maybe I misspoke, okay?

Hixton did actually
pay me a visit last night.

Why?

He wanted a gun.

For what?

Protection. He was scared.

He paid me a grand for a. 357
that I was holding for a friend.

What was he scared of?

His past.

He said it was coming back to get him.

What's that mean, "His past
was coming back to get him"?

And why go to Meech for a gun?

Why not just go to the police,
or hire a bodyguard?

Maybe he didn't think
they could protect him.

CSU finished processing
Hixton's apartment,

came across two sets of fingerprints
that were in the system.

Couple of career criminals
from Hixton's hometown in Florida.

Greg and Ty Page.

Previous busts for bank robbery,

and currently serving a nickel
for grand larceny.

Yeah, well, that info's a little bit behind.

They were released last week
due to overcrowding.

Yeah, get to the part
about who they robbed.

- Hixton.
- Hixton.

A month after he collected his jackpot.

Even though they wore ski masks,
he recognized them by their voices

because they grew up together.

It was his testimony that put them away.

Hixton must have heard
they were being released

and worried
they were coming after him again.

According to Florida police,

the brothers were in town
for all of two days

before they packed up their car
and headed up north.

Told a neighbor
that they were going hunting.

Looks like they bagged themselves
a lottery winner.

Whoa!

Looks like you made a serious dent
in your surprise inheritance.

Is it safe to say
there is not an animal print left

in any store in New York City?

Very funny.

Probably true.

Well, congratulations.

Looks like you have successfully
completed the first stage

in the five stages of hitting the jackpot:

Shopping.

What's the next stage?

Well, if you were
my lottery winning victim,

you'd turn to charity,

and then get shot to death
in your living room.

I'll pass.

Besides, I've decided
to give back the money.

What? Why?

Richard. I was about
to break up with the man.

Do you really think he would have

left me that money if he'd known that?

No, no. I'm gonna return all this stuff,

I'm gonna give back the money.
It's the right thing to do.

Well, you've just jumped to stage five.

Enlightenment.

Oh.

Then again, Chet did adore me,

so I think I should be able
to keep one thing.

It's not real.

Detective Beckett.

Did you call to tell me a bedtime story?

Which car is theirs?

The maroon one over there.

Florida plates.
It's registered to a Greg Page.

We put an alert

on their plate number,
which got triggered

when a traffic cop ticketed them
about an hour ago.

Any idea where they are?

None.

So we watch the car
until someone shows up.

Any sign yet?

That's a negative.

A winery?

Jenny and I visited one
on our first vacation together.

A hundred mil,
and you're gonna become a farmer?

That fianc?e really has done
some damage on you, bro.

Like Lanie hasn't changed you.

Lanie?

Come on, dude.
We all know about the two of you.

Castle and Beckett know, too?

You said earlier
that money doesn't change us,

it just magnifies who we are.

What did your windfall magnify in you?

My inner child, at first.

Kind of like Hixton.

One who likes, you know,
private jets, five star everything.

But then I realized the only luxury
I truly care about is freedom.

The freedom to write,
spend time with Alexis.

Having that money just allows me
to live life on my terms.

You grew up.

Well, I wouldn't go that far.

- That property on the moon?
- Mmm-hmm.

I just bought that last month.

Who's this guy?

Yo. Dreadlocks, 12:00.

NYPD, let's see your hands.

Page brothers, where are they?

Upstairs.

Shut it down.

What the hell, yo? That was slamming.

Three armed cops
and a writer makes four.

You're under arrest, so get on the floor.

Got about 60 grand here.

Where's the other 40 you took

from Hixton's safe when you killed him?

You spend it on your rap career?

Nah, you got it all wrong, shorty.
We didn't kill the man.

We came up here to help him.

Got out the joint for good behavior.

Dude called us up,
said he needed a savior.

Stop rapping.

I'll buy the album.

Savior?

Yeah. His daughter got back into drugs.

He needed to make things right,
so he called us.

The two of you robbed Hixton
at gunpoint in Florida.

Why would he call you?

When Hixton realized
what kind of trouble Nicole was in,

he knew we were the only people
he could turn to.

And what could you possibly do to
help his daughter with her addiction?

Problem wasn't the drugs,
it was her dealer.

A cat named Oz.

Nicole was under his spell
something fierce.

When Hixton found out about it,
he went to go see Oz.

Told the man,
"Stay away from my daughter. "

When Oz didn't, he called us.

You don't believe me, look in my wallet.

Looks like Nicole lied to me

when she told me
she didn't recognize him.

It's the guy Hixton
had under surveillance.

Is this Oz?

Yeah.

When Hixton called us,
we drove right up here.

Jumped Oz outside this club downtown.

Yo, Ty hit his bodyguard with a pipe.

I stuffed Oz in the trunk,

drove under the bridge
and beat on his ass.

Then we came straight here,
been bouncing tunes ever since.

Is that true?
Did they come here last night?

Yeah, we told the man,
"Better stay away from Nicole

"or we're gonna put your ass
in the river. "

He told us we should do it,

'cause if we let him live,
he was gonna burn us alive.

You wanna know who killed Hixton?

Gotta be Oz.

So, Hixton gets a gun
to protect himself from Oz.

He can't get the cops 'cause
that'll get his daughter in trouble.

What the hell was that?

Ryan, watch them.

Stay right where you are.

Looks like Oz wasn't kidding
when he said he'd burn them alive.

Is it true, Nicole?

Did you start using again?

After I got clean, Oz found me.

He said he wanted me back.

Nicole...

I'm sorry, Mom.

I'm so sorry.

And your father knew?

He blamed himself.

He said that he was gonna fix it all,
but I never thought...

This Oz,

you think he's capable
of killing your dad?

This is all my fault.

Dad is dead because of me.

It's okay.

Oz, AKA Marvin Osminkowski.

No wonder he changed his name.

According to Vice, he has a lucrative gig

pedaling high-end product
to the city's rich and famous.

And a car bomb is definitely his MO.

Competing dealer
got blown up last year,

but they didn't have enough
evidence to convict.

So Oz shoots Hixton
for ordering a beatdown,

and then attempts to barbecue
the Page brothers

to complete his revenge.

All right, let's go pick up Oz.

Yeah, well, that's gonna be difficult.

According to Vice,
Oz pretty much operates off grid.

Only time he's on is when he's dealing

out of word-of-mouth night clubs.

And even there, he's got a network

of bouncers, waiters and patrons
as lookouts.

Oz catches one whiff of bacon
and he vanishes into thin air.

There's gotta be some way
to slip under the radar.

What?

I think we're gonna need your Ferrari.

Mother.

Oh, my. Look at you.
Oh, you look gorgeous.

I'm just gonna grab my keys
and change.

You two going out on a date?

Oh. No. We're just doing
a little undercover work.

- So, how are you doing?
- Uh...

I've been better.

Castle told me that you decided
to give the money back.

Yeah, well, I tried.
Chet's kids refused to take it.

They said their father loved me.
He wanted me to have the money.

So I'm, you know, trying
to figure out what to do with it.

Everything I come up with
seems so selfish and petty.

Well, it doesn't have to be that way.

Someone once told me
that money doesn't change you,

it just magnifies who you are.

You cared about Chet.

Maybe you could do something that
would honor his memory somehow.

That is a lovely thought.

Thank you. Really, thank you.

All right.

- Got the keys.
- Oh, great.

I'm driving.

You're driving?

Beckett, this is,

this is a Ferrari.

It is a high-performance vehicle
designed to respond instantaneously

to your every whim,
your every movement, every...

Wow.

Nice car.

Get us some drinks and keep
your eyes peeled for Oz, okay?

Okay.

Drinks. Got it.

Oh, come on. Please. You got to
let me go in and see him.

Hey.

Hey, yourself.

I haven't seen you around here before.

That's because I just came into town.

- Oh, yeah?
- Yeah.

From where?

- Ibiza.
- Mmm.

So, a little birdie told me all about you.

- Yeah?
- Yeah.

Said that you know how to keep
a party going all night long.

Little birdie got a name?

Of course.

Are you gonna tell me what it is?

No.

Yep, I'm coming.

That your boyfriend?

For now.

I like you.

- Yeah?
- Yeah.

Well, prove it.

What kind of party
you looking to get into?

Um.

I like to feel shiny.

- Shiny, huh?
- Yeah.

I think I got something to fit that bill.

But it's gonna cost you.

It's okay, good things always do.

Ah!

Hey!

No! Handcuffs.

Right.

You sure took a big step down
in the wardrobe department.

You're about to take
an even bigger step down,

into a prison jumpsuit.

We got you dead to rights on
possession with the intent to sell.

That's 20 years, federal time.

But that's nothing compared to the time

that you're gonna do
for first degree murder.

Not to mention felony blowing crap up.

I don't know what you're talking about.

You remember this guy?

You should, you killed him.

And these two you tried to kill
with a car bomb.

Look,

I had to get those country boys back.

But I didn't have anything to do
with Hixton, I swear.

Here's the thing, Marvin.

We showed your picture
around Hixton's place.

Oddly enough, people saw you there
right about the time he was killed.

Page brothers gave you
a serious beating.

You vowed revenge,
and then Hixton shows up dead

with witnesses claiming
to see you at the crime scene?

That doesn't look good for you, Marvin,

and lying to us will only make it worse.

Okay.

Maybe I had hard feelings
about my medical condition,

and maybe I paid Hixton a visit
to discuss them.

But I abandoned ship
before I got to his door.

You were hot to straighten Hixton
out, and you changed your mind?

Do you really expect us to believe that?

It's the truth.

I took the elevator up to Hixton's place.

When the doors opened,

there was a guy standing right there.
He got a good look at me.

If I would have gone through
with my visit,

he would've pointed me out
in a lineup, easy.

So I walked away.

You get a good look at this guy?

Yeah.

Rode back down the first floor with him.

He was maybe 50, proper-looking,
wearing an old-school tuxedo.

The butler really did do it!

Easley, the butler.

Loyal, devoted, seemingly distraught
over the death of his master.

Yet, all the while, lurking behind
that mask of servile correctness,

was a killer.

Or Oz is just trying to kick up some dust.

I mean, what's the butler's motive?

Well, in fiction,
it would be one of two things.

Firstly, he was carrying on a torrid
affair with his master's wife.

- Ew!
- No?

Second, it had to be the money.

I think Castle might be onto something.

I dug a little deeper
into Reginald Easley.

His last few employers
all say the same thing.

Easley resigned after
some of their valuables went missing.

I realized I've been
thinking about this all wrong.

You're not a frivolous person,

so you wouldn't do frivolous things
with your lottery winnings.

- Castle.
- No, no.

I'm gonna figure this out. If you had...

Packing your things?

These aren't my things.
They belong to my employer.

It must be hard, being around
all this wealth, none of it yours.

I'm content with my lot.

Really?

We read up on you.

Born in Leeds to a single mother
who was a seamstress.

With the right training,
you lost the low-brow accent

and learned to fit in with the gentry,

where you saw people
spend more in one day

than your mother made
in an entire year.

Then along comes Hixton,

a man with an upbringing
not unlike your own.

But he owned all this,
and he owned you.

And not because of any
special talent or intelligence.

Just because he guessed six numbers.

And you didn't.

Taking from Hixton
wasn't really stealing,

it was just correcting a karmic injustice.

You made him open that safe.

But what you didn't know
was that he had a gun.

And when he reached for it,
this is where it ended.

What on Earth makes you think that?

We know that you were here the night
that he was killed, Mr. Easley.

Long after you said you had left.

Early on,
he bought 25 first edition Dickens.

Charles Dickens,
and the man didn't even read.

He just liked the look
of the leather on their spines.

Mr. Easley...

I stole two of them.

To me, it was like levying
a tax on him for being an idiot.

But then I had a change of heart.

I brought them back here that night,

around 11:00,
thinking he was out with his wife.

But, for some reason, he was here.
I heard the shower running.

Your excuse for coming back here
the night that he was killed

was that you had a "change of heart"?

Yes.

I'd like to say it was
because his turn to philanthropy

made me see him in a different light.

As a good man one shouldn't steal from.

But the truth is I was scared
his bad luck would become mine.

He won over 100 million in the lottery.

One could hardly
consider that bad luck.

His marriage failed,
his daughter fell into drugs

and he was just gunned down
in his own apartment.

That, sir, is the universe...
What did you call it?

Oh, yes, "Correcting a karmic injustice. "

What do you mean?

The winning lottery ticket.

Hixton let it slip one night

after a little too much time
with the bottle.

He always played the same numbers,

the dates he and his wife met
and were married.

One, three, 95, and 10, 24, 98.

None of those numbers
are on the ticket.

All the misery
that came from the money?

Hixton believed it was because
he stole the ticket.

So you think Hixton was murdered
because he stole the ticket.

- No.
- Yes.

Come on.

I mean, it was worth a fortune.

Easley had every reason
to make up that story.

And even if those weren't
Hixton's regular numbers,

it still doesn't prove
that he stole the ticket.

But the theft explains
so much about Hixton's behavior.

The director of the soup kitchen

said that Hixton
compulsively gave away his money

like he felt he didn't deserve it.
I called it winner's guilt,

but what if it was
another kind of guilt entirely?

Okay, fine, let's say that you're right.

Let's say that Hixton stole the ticket.

There's still no evidence suggesting
that that contributed to his death.

You're the first person to tell me

that there are no coincidences
in a murder investigation.

Hold on, Detective. He's got a point.

You said Hixton told Meech "his past
was coming back to get him. "

Now, we thought he meant
the Page brothers,

but this ticket represents

the biggest thing
that ever happened to him.

I call that a major motive for murder.

Okay, fine.

Then if it's true, how do we prove it?

The numbers.

Two, four, eight,

19, 41 and 79.

I know it's a long shot,

but if we can figure out
what these numbers signify,

we might be able to find
the ticket's real owner.

I play my kids' birthdays.

I play my firsts,

sex and combat.

I play his firsts, too.

What?

That way we both win,
and it's not awkward.

Beckett?

Sorry. I don't play, Castle.

But if you did?

Well, it doesn't really matter, Castle.

I mean, the fact is
Hixton won the lottery a year ago.

If he stole that ticket,

why didn't the rightful owner
come forward sooner?

Maybe the rightful owner is dead.

Maybe Hixton killed him.

The moon.

The weird purchases Hixton made
as soon as he won.

He bought three acres on the moon,
and a mausoleum for his neighbor.

Find out everything we can
on this neighbor.

I'm on it.

If you're right, Castle,

I'm betting Hixton's neighbor
never imagined that

the luckiest day of his life
would also be his last.

Boo-ya!

Neighbor's name was Hank Walters.

He died the day
the winning numbers were announced.

Walters's birthday. Two, eight, 41.

Three of the numbers
on the lottery ticket.

Two days later, Hixton came forward
to claim his $ 117 million check.

What did Walters die of?

Natural causes.

- For real?
- Yeah.

He was an old man dying of,
like, six different things.

Lanie went over the autopsy.

Said everything looked like
it was on the up and up.

So, Walters is bedridden.

Hixton, like any good neighbor,

asks the old man if there's
anything he can do for him.

Walters says,
"Yes, buy me a lottery ticket. "

Maybe it was a one-time thing,
maybe he did it all the time.

This time, the numbers are announced,
and Walters won.

Hixton rushes back to tell him

and finds Walters dead.

And doesn't know what to do.

That's why it took him an extra day
to come forward.

He was struggling
with the moral implications.

Yeah. But desperate times
call for desperate measures.

He claimed the ticket as his own.
Clearly, no one else knew about it.

What about family?
Did Walters have any?

Well, according to county records,

the only living relative of Hank Walters

is a nephew named Tom.

And guess where he lives?

New York City.

I'm sorry.

Are you telling me
that I might inherit $ 100 million?

Come on, Tom.
You already figured that out.

You confronted Hixton.

You told him you wanted restitution.

He said no, things got ugly,
and Hixton ended up dead.

So you grabbed what was in the safe,
and you took off.

What?

Knock it off, Tom. You're the
old man's only living relative.

You're the only one
with motive for revenge.

No. I'm not his only relative.

He's got a son.

No, he doesn't. We checked.

Well, sure, he's not biological.

Hank dated his mom for, like, five years

while the kid was growing up.

The two bonded like crazy.

Kept in touch
even after the romance broke up.

They even spent every holiday
together for the last 10 years.

This son,

is his birthday four, 19, 79?

Uh, yeah. How did you know?

Because those are
the three remaining numbers

on the winning lottery ticket.

You lied to us
about who you are, Shawn.

These are your dad's numbers,

your birthday and his.

I don't know what you're talking about.

When did you realize that Hixton
had stolen the winning ticket?

Was it when you were still in prison
in Memphis?

Or was it after you got out,
went to go and visit your dad,

found out he was dead

and that his mausoleum was paid for
with his stolen winnings?

Can't imagine how you must have felt.

How driven you were to come
to New York, make things right.

You tracked down Hixton
at the soup kitchen,

threatened him with all kind of things

if he didn't do right by you.
He freaked out.

He gave you his car,
but that wasn't enough, was it?

You can't prove any of this.

I can prove all of it, Shawn.

We found the money from Hixton's safe
in your apartment

with trace amounts of his blood in it.

So what happened next?

I mean, why would you walk away
with only 100 grand?

He owed you millions.

Hmm.

I went to his apartment
to collect what was mine.

He told me

I didn't deserve the money.

He said that I was a dirtbag criminal,

and all I was gonna do
if he gave it to me

was put it up my nose.

Instead, he was gonna give it all away

to those in need.

I told him I was in need.

Then he grabbed for my gun.

It went off.

So what's gonna happen
with all that money?

Well, that's for the lawyers to decide.

The good thing is that
Nicole is going back into rehab,

and her mom's gonna be there for her
when she gets out.

Well, at least something good
will come of all this.

That is it for me.

I am beat. I'll see you tomorrow.

Wait, you're giving up?

No more questions
about my innermost jackpot dreams?

You said you didn't have any.

Good night, Castle.

Good night.

Good evening, ladies.

Hi.

Are you buying property?

Gram decided what to do
with her inheritance.

I think it's perfect.

Really? What?

I'm going to open
the Martha Rodgers School of Acting.

Oh!

But I thought you were gonna do
something to honor Chet.

Well, I am.

Oh, no,
Chet was always encouraging me

to use my enormous talent
to help people.

Then wouldn't you call it
the Chet Palaburn School of Acting?

Giving it the auspices?

No, well, it's customary

that when you're opening a school,
you use a great teacher's name.

Like Strasberg, Meisner, Adler,
and now, Rodgers.

Oh, I am, however, going to commission
a portrait to be done of Chet

that will hang in the lobby

so his legacy will last forever.

Nice.

- Legacy.
- What?

I know what Beckett would do.

Castle.

I know what you would do
if you won the lottery.

By all means, please come in.

So, what is your big insight

into a financial decision
that I will never have to make?

You would use the money
to honor your mother's legacy.

On the way over here,

I called the dean
of your mom's old law school.

We talked about starting a scholarship

in Johanna Beckett's name.

One that would provide a full ride

for a student planning
on dedicating their career

to those in the legal system
without a voice.

The kind of people
your mom championed.

And with your blessing,

I would like to host
a fundraiser to fund it.

You just can't stay out
of my personal life, can you?

Thank you. It's really sweet.

We definitely have to invite the mayor

and all of his campaign contributors,
some of whom can be boorish.

If we get this one guy, Bill Rowe,
he's so rich...