Castle (2009–2016): Season 3, Episode 20 - Slice of Death - full transcript

Come on,
let me show you my place, huh?

I gotta tweet this.

No one'll believe
I'm with the Terrific Nick.

Authentic Nick, not Terrific.

Okay? I mean, we're the best.

- I'll bet.
- Mmm-hmm.

And it smells so good.

It does smell good.

Somebody here?

Dad?

Smells like ribs.
Is that barbecue pizza?

No. We don't do barbecue pizza,
all right?

That's for the hacks
like Terrific Nick.

Nice and crispy.

Just the way you like it.

You eat it. I'm not hungry.

You've never said no to turkey bacon.
What's wrong?

Nothing.

Something.

Don't make me tong you.

Not even a smile. It must be serious.

It's Lauren's birthday party.
I'm not going.

What? You've been talking
about that party for weeks.

It's going to be the party
of the century.

Yesterday, Lauren came up to me
and in front of everybody,

told me I was disinvited.

It was humiliating.

Why would Lauren do something like
that? She's one of your best friends.

She was one of my best friends.

I have no idea why she's acting like
this. And she refuses to talk to me.

And Ashley's still invited.
And so is everyone else and...

It's like I'm a social leper.

Well, Ashley's not going to go
without you.

Just because I have leprosy
doesn't mean he should.

Well, I think you should
throw a rival party.

And invite all your friends
to that one instead.

The party's tonight.
And she has a live band performing.

I can't compete with that.

Well, then I'll call Lauren's mom
and I'll...

You're joking, right? What, so I can
be a leper and a tattletale?

I'm 17.
I can deal with this on my own.

It's just every instinct in my body
is telling me to protect her.

Yeah, but when it comes to teenagers,
not even you can protect her.

Alexis is going to have to deal
with backstabbers her whole life,

but she's intelligent enough
to rise above all of that.

I don't know.

She looked like
she was ready to commit murder.

Speaking of murder.

I thought Terrific Nick's
on the East Side was number one.

No, that's Authentic Terrific Nick's.
This is just Authentic Nick's.

- This isn't Terrific?
- No. Just Authentic.

It's also not Terrific Authentic
Nick's. But that's across the street.

What's the difference?

The difference is this one
has a dead body in the oven.

Okay.

That is really...

Well done.

Another couple hours, maybe.

But luckily for me
he's only half-baked.

Male, mid-40s. That's about
as much ID as I can give you.

Based on the oven setting
and the body's core temperature,

I'd say he went in
no sooner than 2:00 a.m.

I'm afraid to ask. Cause of death?

It wasn't the oven.

The stab wound through the chest says
he was dead when he went in.

No sign of forced entry,

but we're running prints
on the door handle just the same.

All right. Run them on the oven
as well. Who found him?

Uh, Nick Jr.

Authentic, not Terrific.

No. I got no idea who he is.

I mean, I open up the oven
and bam, there he is.

Who were the last ones
here last night?

My dad and me.
We closed around 11:00.

Then I head up to Kaydar Lounge,
met up with a lady friend,

and then we came back here to

grab a slice.

And when was that?

I dunno. 4:30?

Where's your lady friend now?

She's kind of throwing up a lot,
so the paramedics had to take her in.

Oh, but I kept her number.

I don't think there's gonna be
a second date.

- Yeah, you're right.
- I'm sorry.

I'm gonna need a list of all of your
employees and delivery staff.

You don't think it was
one of our guys in the oven, do you?

As soon as you get me that list,
I'll start making phone calls.

I don't believe this.

You gotta be kidding me!

Dad, these are the cops.

You must be Authentic Nick.

The one and only.

Nick? I have the proprietor
listed as Ralph Carbone.

Yeah, that's me.
Everybody calls me Nick.

Why?

Because that's what
everybody calls me.

I can't believe those bastards
put a body in my oven.

I'm sorry, Mr. Carbone,
you think that you know who did this?

Yeah, sure.

I'll bet it was that jackhole.

Terrific Authentic Nick?

Sal Malavolta.
He used to work for us years ago

before opening his own lousy
pizza shop right across the street.

He stole my frigging recipes.
It's Sal that done this.

- Along with the other two!
- The other two?

Yeah. That vulture there.

Terrific Nick?

Vinnie Delfino.

And that dirtbag there.

And Authentic Terrific Nick.

Luca Sabalini. All three of them.

They're thieves.
They live off of our name.

And they're not even real Nicks.
I'm the only real Nick.

And your real name is Ralph.

Exactly.

They've been trying
to run me out of Dodge for years.

And now this.
Who's gonna buy my pizza now? Huh?

Hey! Hey! You happy?
I'm out of business.

Mr. Carbone, what makes you think
that one of them did this?

A few weeks ago, one of them snuck
a gallon of soap into my secret sauce.

Cost me a whole day of returned pies.

Now, look,
I may or may not have retaliated,

but if I did,
them putting a cadaver in my oven,

that's them retaliating back.

Mr. Carbone, that's not a cadaver.

What do you mean?
It's... They probably...

They got this
from some medical school.

No. This isn't a prank.
This is murder.

We got through
to all their employees.

Everybody's accounted for.

Lanie, what are the chances
of getting an ID?

Not hopeful on fingerprints.

We may have to wait for a missing
persons report and dental records.

We also started a canvass to see
if anybody saw anything last night.

All right, let's get statements
off all the employees,

especially the ones with keys.

I'd like to know
what they were doing last night.

Shouldn't we look into
the other Nicks, too?

Come on, bro, you don't really think

this is about some kind of pizza rivalry,
do you?

Competition to be the best
in New York? Clear animosity?

Carbone said he'd broken in before.

If we are looking
into everyone with access,

we should look into them as well.

He's right, you know. Pizza's
serious business in this town.

All right. Great. You talk to them.

Wait. Me? No. Why... Come on.

You have to admit, a pizza oven?
Very clever way to get rid of a body.

In At Dusk We Die,

I had my psychotic paralegal
kill her abusive boss

and put him in a pottery kiln.

He was reduced to ashes
in a matter of hours.

Of course, you already know this,
don't you?

That's probably what our killer planned
on doing until Nick Jr. showed up.

Did I hear right? You found a body
in the oven at Terrific Nick's?

Authentic Nick's.

Authentic Nick's? Oh, thank God.
The wife loves Terrific Nick's.

I didn't have the heart to tell her
now it came in full-bodied flavor.

Ooh! I liked it. I liked it.

Hey. So we ran through
all of Authentic Nick's employees.

They alibied out, but I did find
a bunch of stuff on the other Nicks.

- Criminal complaints?
- Yeah.

Dozens of them, filed back and forth
between all the Nicks over the years.

Bricks through front windows,
slashed delivery car tires,

flaming bags of poo.

- Thank you.
- Yep.

What? That's it?

Flaming bags of poo?
Soap in secret sauces?

Come on, Castle, what do you think?

These guys suddenly graduated
from frat pranks to murder?

Beckett.

As expected, the body was too badly
burned to get any prints.

But I did find this. You see here
where the shinbone should be?

Those are titanium plates.

So killer cyborg
sent from the future.

Resistance fighters
intercept its coordinates,

redirect him into a pizza oven,
saving humanity.

The plates had serial numbers.

I ran them through
the surgical database and got an ID.

Gordon Burns.

Gordon Burns?

Yes, Castle. Burns.
Go ahead, make your joke.

Get it out of your system.

Gordon Burns, as in New York Ledger?

- You know him?
- Well, not personally.

He was a reporter.
I used to love his work.

Did you find anything else
on the body?

A melted cell phone belt clip,
but there was no cell phone.

Yeah,
it wasn't at the crime scene, either.

And that's his wallet.

Some credit cards, driver's license.
That's all melted.

Girlfriend? Wife?

Burns is listed as divorced,
no next of kin.

He was a war correspondent,
an investigative reporter.

What was he doing in a pizza oven?

Well, maybe his editor knows.

We were friends.

When I became editor of the paper,
he was my first hire.

The kinds of stories he wrote,

he must've stepped
on his fair share of toes.

Not for years. He'd been
out of the game for a while.

Why's that?

His kid was killed in an accident.
She was 10.

After that, he finally gave in
to his love affair with the bottle.

We see that you still had him
on the payroll.

He did the occasional human interest
story for our lifestyle section.

A waste of his talent,

but it let him make rent,
keep his insurance.

Mr. Shaw, was he working
on anything recently?

Just a puff piece
I'd assigned him last week.

About what?

The pizza wars. You know,
those Authentic Amazing Terrific guys

always fighting over
which one's the best.

It wasn't Afghanistan,
but Gordon was Gordon.

He called a few days ago and said
it was much bigger than I thought.

Bigger how?

He didn't say.
But I mean, it's pizza wars.

How big could it be?

Big enough to kill for.

Let's dig deeper
into all of the Nicks,

Terrific, Authentic, and otherwise.

And let's also run background checks
on all of their employees.

You know,
this guy survived Afghanistan,

the invasion of Iraq,
even Tiananmen Square.

To be killed
doing a puff piece on pizza?

It's like being a cop, bro.

You survive a firefight
with a dozen armed gangbangers

only to be hit by a car while
writing a speeding ticket on the LIE.

Hey. Ran a trace
on Burns' missing phone.

It's either out of battery
or turned off.

All right. Run LUDs and financials.

I want to find out where he was
and what he was doing last night.

On it.

This has to be about something
bigger than who has the best pizza.

Burns probably had notes and drafts
of his story in his apartment.

If we can find them, we can figure
out what he was up to last night.

Let's go.

Door's been kicked open.

Room's clear.

This place is trashed.

I'm gonna check with the neighbors,
see if anybody heard anything.

Okay.

These drawers have been emptied.

If there were files or notes,
they're gone now.

Well, whatever he was working on,
someone didn't want us to find it.

You okay?

Yeah. No, yeah. Um.

I think I met her.

I went to a book signing of his, the
one he did on the Sarajevo snipers.

She was

coloring next to him
while he was signing books.

He must've been a good writer
for you to stand in line.

Yeah. He was.

Come on. Let's go get CSU.

Hey. I got something weird.

Burns' neighbor? She says she's been
holding his mail for the last week.

Apparently, Burns told her he was
going out of the country for a while.

Out of the country?
We know he's been here.

That's the kind of lie that you tell people

when you don't want anyone
looking for you.

And if he's been staying
somewhere else

there's a chance
we can still find his notes.

Let me get a hold of his editor,

find out where
he might have been staying.

How does a story about pizza
send somebody into hiding?

Or get them killed.

Beckett.

Hey, just got the CSU report back.

The back doorknob of the pizza shop
was wiped clean,

but they did find Nick's prints
all over the pizza oven.

Well, that's to be expected.
I mean, he worked there.

Not Authentic Nick.

These prints belong to his neighbor
across the street.

Terrific Authentic Nick.

So, Nick, or should I say Sal,
know this guy?

Yeah, I know him.

That's the reporter
doing the story on us.

And what did the two of you
talk about?

Who's the real Nick?

And I told him about my grampa Nick,

and how he was an "authentic"
Ellis Island immigrant,

who was flipping his "terrific" dough
on Mott Street the very day he arrived.

What else?

That's it. Why?

Just doesn't seem like
a good enough reason to kill.

Kill?

We found your fingerprints, Sal.
All over the oven.

You found my prints?

Yeah.

So why don't we back up
and you tell us why you killed Burns?

And this time, hold the extra cheese.

I can explain.

I was there.

But I didn't kill nobody.

Ralph thought I was
soaping his sauce,

so he broke into my place

and took all the breakers
out of my electrical panel.

Now, he's always bragging
about his oven, so I thought I'd...

Put a body in it.

No, steal it.

I went over there
a couple of nights ago

to see what I'd need to get it out.

You're kidding me, right?

I was in O'Meary's
on Staten Island last night.

Till closing, okay? It was
dart night. I took third place.

You want to look at somebody,
look at Ralph.

Why Ralph?

What, you think he makes that money
with his crappy pizza?

He's connected. That's why I left.

All he cares about is laundering
money for his wise guy pals.

You didn't happen to mention
this to Burns, did you?

As a matter of fact, I did.

Money laundering? Whoa.

We ran you through
the federal database.

We know about
the FBI investigation in the '90s

and about your connection
to the Spolano crime family.

My connection?

He's my second cousin once removed.

I see him at Thanksgiving
once every five years.

And the feds never found anything.

The feds didn't, but maybe Burns did.

So what happened, Ralph?

Did he threaten to expose you?

You make him disappear,

until your kid showed up
before that oven you're so proud of

could finish its job?

I make my money with my pizza.

You want to look at my books,
go ahead.

You're gonna find exactly the
same thing the feds found.

Nada! Zip! Zilch!

Sal put yous two up to this, right?

Sal's the one who brought the feds in
in the first place,

trying to shut me down.

You should be looking at him.

Sal had an alibi for last night.

What about you, Mr. Carbone?

I'm at home in bed.
You could ask my wife.

And that reporter,
all he asked me about was pizza.

That guy is guilty of something.

Not until we have proof.

Hey, Ryan, any luck
on where our victim was last night?

We're still waiting
for info from his bank.

But I got his LUDs.

Nothing last night

and only a few calls
to his editor in the previous days.

A reporter chasing down a story?
No, there should be dozens of calls.

Well, maybe he was making them
from wherever he was staying.

Any leads on the girl in the photo?

No, but I got in touch
with Burns' ex in Portland.

They hadn't seen each other in years.

Yo. Pay dirt!

I canvassed Burns' building.

At first it was all, "He's so quiet.
He just keeps to himself."

But this other neighbor,
who just came home,

said that she saw Burns
and another guy

having a knock-down-drag-out
yelling match just before he left.

About what?

All she remembers
is the other guy yelling,

"If you try to print that,
I swear to God, I'll kill you!"

Did you get a description?

I'll give you a hint. He's authentic.

And terrific.

So me and Burns argued.
So what? It's a free country.

Free speech doesn't cover
death threats, Mr. Sabalini.

Or murder.

I told you, I was home last night.

Yeah, you did. But your wife tells us
a different story.

It seems she remembers you
sneaking out before midnight,

after you thought she was asleep.

She told us you were off to see

"That whore mistress of his
over in Flatbush."

And when she confronted you
about it this morning,

you told her
that you went into the city

because the store alarm
was going off.

We checked.

It wasn't.

So who are you lying to, Luca?
Me, or your wife?

My wife.

I was with Angie last night.
You can ask her.

I could, but it doesn't mean
I'm gonna believe her.

What were you and Burns
fighting about?

He was going
to write something about me.

Destroy everything I've worked for.
I had to stop him.

And what was he going to write?

About my pizza.

About what makes my fat-free pizza
taste so good.

It's made with real cheese.
There's nothing fat-free about it.

You were going to kill for that?

It's an expression!

Besides, Burns called me last night.

He said he'd consider not running it
if I'd do him a favor.

What favor?

He didn't say what.

He was supposed to stop by today
to talk about it.

You said that he called you
yesterday? From where?

Okay, got it.

The incoming call on his cell
was from the Hotel Beta in Midtown.

All right. Let's go.

Thanks.

Paid in cash.
Signed in under the name Melville.

This guy's definitely
flying under the radar.

Castle, there's his computer.

Okay.

"New York's Authentic
Terrific Pizza Wars."

Sharp narration, delicate prose...

This is not an expos?.

It's a puff piece.

I can practically smell the garlic,

but there's nothing in there that's
about anything heavier than pizza.

Or what got him killed.

His most recent notes.
Pizza. Recipes. Inter...

What?

Look at that.

That's last night.

He was meeting with someone.

Someone from that phone number.
Just before he was killed.

I'm gonna run that down.

You have an app for that?

Yeah, NYPD issue. We just got it.

- Can I...
- Whoa.

Fine. Then you don't get to play
my Angry Birds.

And they just came out
with a new one.

Johnny Farrell. Swede Andersen.

How do I know those names?

I don't know.
But recognize this person?

That's the woman from Burns' wallet.

Bingo. Monica Wyatt.

And if she met with him last night,

she might be the last person
to have seen him alive.

I wonder if they went out for pizza.

Little upscale for the pizza world.

Unless she's a middleman.

For the money laundering operation.

She transfers the assets out of
country into Swiss bank accounts

using the names Johnny Farrell
and Swede Andersen.

Or she's just a real estate agent
as she claims to be.

That's just her cover
to avoid scrutiny of the feds.

You had a lot of imaginary friends
growing up, didn't you?

Still do.

Hi. Can I help you?

I can't believe he still had this.

He actually took this
on our first date.

And how long
were the two of you together?

Just a couple of months, but...

God, this had to be three years ago.

I saw him once or twice
after his daughter's accident.

He was different.

It's like he just drifted away.

What made you see him last night?

I didn't see him last night.

Well, according to his notes,
he met up with you at 10:00 p.m.

Well, that wasn't a meeting.
That was a date.

But he didn't show.

You said you hadn't seen him
in years.

How did you end up on a date?

We bumped into each other
on the street the other day.

It was weird, because it was in the
Village and I never go down there.

And he said he doesn't
go down there either,

but he was working on a story.

Did he tell you what it was about?

No.

How did he seem?
Worried? Distressed?

He seemed like himself.

Like his old self,
like he was onto something.

He'd just come
from the Hall of Records,

and whatever he found
he was really excited about.

The Hall of Records?

Yeah.

Ms. Wyatt, do the names
Johnny Farrell or Swede Andersen

mean anything to you?

I can't say they do.

Monica Wyatt checks.

Her brokerage house says
that she complains about commissions

more than they'd like,
but other than that, she's clean.

You find anything else in there?

Nope. The rest is just pizza.

Hey.

I just got through Burns' financials.

Any activity last night?

Yeah, something odd.

At 11:15 p.m., he used his ATM card.

Where?

A not-so-good neighborhood about
15 blocks away from Authentic Nick's.

But here's the odd part.

He never finished the transaction.

You mean he canceled it?

No, no. He never finished it.

He popped in his ATM card, but then
after about a minute of inactivity

it ate his card.

It's almost as if...

Something happened.

Get ATM surveillance.
Let's find out what.

I'm gonna go to the Hall of Records
tomorrow morning.

See if we can figure out
what Burns was up to.

Things happen.
How could he let her do it?

Well...

What happened?

Alexis decided
to crash Lauren's party,

against our better judgment.

And I take it that
the party crashing didn't go so well?

None of this would have happened

if Lauren wasn't the most
conniving bitch in the entire world.

- Whoa.
- It's warranted.

When the band was performing,

Lauren brought Ashley
up on stage with her.

And she kissed him.
In front of everyone!

Bitch!

How could she do this to me?
To Ashley?

What did Ashley do?

He was mortified.
He ran off stage and we left.

And he was apologizing
a thousand times.

And said he had no idea
that she was going to do that and...

But it's like she's been trying
to break us up this whole time.

It's been her master plan.

Now, well,
she didn't succeed, darling.

You and Ashley
are stronger than ever.

And she looks like a fool.

Yeah. I wish that were true.

But according to the Internet,
Ashley cheated on me.

She already posted the pictures
of them kissing all over her website.

It's a nightmare.

Where's Beckett?

Hall of Records,

tracking down
what Burns was looking for.

Great.

Listen,

if I gave you a website,

could you have your friends at Tech
hack into it

and take some pictures down?

Did someone find
naked pictures of you again?

No. It's not me. It's Alexis.

It's for Alexis.

This just got awkward.
What's this about?

Okay.

Mean girl at school
kiss-ambushed Alexis' boyfriend

and then posted the
photographic proof on her website.

- Alexis very upset.
- Hmm.

I think I could have my friend Tony

take care of it, you know,
off the record.

- Thanks.
- Hmm.

And,

no need to mention this to Beckett.

You know how she gets
with these things.

Things like abusing police resources
for your own personal agenda?

What?

That's... No, you don't...
No, that's...

That's...

So, what'd you find?
Anything on Nick's?

Not exactly.

Burns requested files
relating to the 2003 murder

of a drug trafficker named
Harley Romero, aka Harley Playful,

also known as Handsome Harley.

Judging from those photos
I'm guessing it was ironic.

What's a guy who's been dead for
eight years have to do with pizza?

- Hmm. Hey, Ryan?
- Yep.

Did you get a chance to get a look into
all the Nicks and their employees?

Oh, yeah. Just going over the reports
right now. Mostly minor stuff.

Any drug charges?

No. Nothing about drugs.

Romero.

You think maybe it's some kind of
Mafia tie-in with Authentic Nick's?

According to the file, there's
no connection to any of the families.

Someone didn't like him.
Says here he was shot a dozen times,

dumped in an oil drum
and set on fire.

Yeah, word on the street was that
a dealer killed him over a turf war.

So why was Burns looking at him?

Yo.

Bank just sent over
surveillance footage.

You guys gotta see this.

Looks like
he's running from something.

He's running from something
all right. Watch this.

He knows he's on camera.

He's trying to tell us something.

He's writing it.

- Whoa!
- Okay, take it back.

And freeze there.

He's got a knife.

He was trying to send us a message,
but he recorded his own murder.

Close up on the face.

Castle, look at that face.

That's Harley Romero.

And he is very much alive.

Why would he stop to write a message?
Why not just keep running?

Well, that street
empties onto a blind alley.

Maybe Burns thought
he couldn't get away.

Any idea what he was writing there?

We're seeing
if Tech can enhance the image.

But we found no connection between
this Harley and the pizza joints.

Maybe pizza
has nothing to do with it.

Maybe Burns knew Harley
from an old story.

No.

I don't recognize him at all.

Did Burns ever mention the name
Harley in any of his stories?

Never.

When this guy supposedly died,

Gordon was embedded with the
Second Marine Division in Gulf II.

Mr. Shaw, do the names Johnny Farrell

or Swede Andersen
mean anything to you?

Yeah.

They do. They're both characters
from old film noir movies.

Right!

Uh...

Johnny Farrell from the movie Gilda.
Glenn Ford's character.

And Burt Lancaster played
Swede Andersen in The Killers.

And why would these two names
be important?

This guy Harley,
what kind of drugs was he dealing?

Heroin. Why?

Because the only heroin story
Burns ever chased

was the one
that he could never finish.

About a high-end
distribution ring in New York

that sets up shop
inside legitimate businesses.

When someone needed product,
they use a code word.

Their code happens to be
names of characters from film noir.

It's that story that destroyed him.

Why?

Because of the guy
who was behind the ring.

It was Cavallo.

Gordon Burns was gunning for
the Prince of Darkness himself.

Who's Cavallo?

It's a street myth.

An urban legend.

Anytime a dealer gets whacked,
people always say it's Cavallo.

But he's not even real.

Cavallo's real.

Come on, Shaw.
We've all heard the scary story.

Well, I didn't.

So the story goes that

Cavallo was mentored by this
badass Colombian drug lord,

Khazi The Conqueror.

And eventually,
he put a bullet to his boss' head,

slit all of his kids' throats
and took over the operation.

But I mean,

it's a fairytale.

Not to Burns.

Not to his daughter.

Burns told me he had a contact that
was getting him close to Cavallo.

The next day, he and his daughter
are crossing the street,

this car appears out of nowhere.

When he came to,
his leg was shattered.

Nina was 20 feet away, bleeding out,

and he couldn't even crawl over
to hold her.

So don't you tell me
Cavallo isn't real.

It sounds like Burns was Ahab
and Cavallo his white whale.

Well, he did sign in to the hotel
as Melville.

You know, it's that kind of sly humor
that Burns was known for.

And while I am loathe to profile,

the name Cavallo,
also the Italian word for "horse,"

might suggest a link
back to the four Nicks.

Hey, Ryan.

When you were in Narcotics,

when was the first time
you heard the name Cavallo?

I don't know. Probably around '03.

Around all the time all those dealers
were getting whacked.

Well, that's right.
When Harley was killed.

So, Harley stages his own death,

brutally murders his competition,

and then starts a whisper campaign
on the streets

about the new Dark Prince of Heroin.

And a legend is born.

Yo.

Tech was able to blow up
and enhance that ATM video.

They're sending it up now.

God.

- I still can't make it out.
- Mmm-mmm.

Run it again.

Can you flip it and slow it down?

Yeah.

What are you doing?

What I do best.

Writing.

Okay. Three,

six, "S."

It could be a five.

Okay, "S" or a five.

"W," one, two, seven?

It's an address.

B-A-S...

Basement. 365 West 127th Street.
In the basement.

That's three blocks from the ATM.

Police! Nobody move!

NYPD!

Room's clear.

Somebody
moved out in a hurry.

Coffee grinders for cutting,
envelopes for packaging.

All the earmarks of a well-organized
heroin processing house.

Get CSU in here.
Sweep the area.

If anyone saw anything
I want to know.

Looks like your Ahab
found his white whale.

And it took him under.

Hi, Dad. Bye, Dad.

What, no kiss?

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Alexis, what happened to your face?

Nothing.

That's not nothing. What happened?

Lauren.

She cornered me
in the bathrooms at school.

Said I ruined her party.

And then she accused me
of hacking into her account

and deleting those pictures she took.
As if!

And then what happened?

Well, I called her a backstabber.
And then she scratched me. So I...

You what?

I punched her.

- What were you thinking?
- I don't know.

This isn't me. I don't crash parties,
I don't get in fights with people.

But, Dad, she made me so angry.

I know she did,
but retaliation is not the answer.

You get her back, she gets you back,

and then one day one of you
ends up dead in a pizza oven.

Is that what you want?

Look, the point is,
you're gonna have to deal with mean,

backstabbing girls your whole life.

You need to learn to be
smart enough to rise above.

Okay?

Okay.

Come here.

Did you kick her ass?

I kind of did.

Good girl.

I should have gotten involved
much earlier.

Why? Lauren would've still found
a way to make Alexis' life miserable.

Lauren isn't a criminal mastermind.
She's just a teenager.

Castle, never underestimate the
power of a woman on a mission.

No, I don't. And I have
the alimony checks to prove it.

Beckett, just hung up with the lab.

The trace heroin
from the processing house?

It matches most of the dope
being peddled on the Lower East.

Any word on this Harley?

Sir, if half of the rumors
about this guy are true,

then he's got snitches
all over the force,

so I was thinking on holding off
on an APB until we knew more.

- Keep me posted.
- Yes, sir.

You know, Shaw said

that Cavallo was using legitimate
businesses to distribute product.

You think he could be
operating out of one of the Nicks?

Yeah, but I can't get a warrant
for a fishing expedition.

I'm gonna have to have
something more concrete.

Yo, CSU swept the tenement basement
top to bottom.

There's not one print anywhere.

Any witnesses see
Burns getting chased?

In that neighborhood,
nobody sees nothing.

But one of our uniforms

did find this in a storm drain
near the ATM.

Burns' phone?

Does it strike anyone else as strange

that a seasoned war correspondent

would suddenly develop
butter fingers?

Drop his phone while being chased?

You think he purposefully dropped it?

So that whoever chasing him
wouldn't get his phone?

Or what was on it.

The last call he made was 911.

And he didn't press "send."

Outside the drug lab.

He was casing the joint.

That's Monica.

She's involved.

Monica Wyatt, NYPD! Open up!

Monica!

Step back! NYPD!

Monica!

He tried to kill me!

Window. Let's go.

Monica, who did this to you?

If I tell you that, I'm dead.

I think we're past that. Who did it?

Cavallo.

I wasn't lying before about Gordon.

We did date years ago.
And I thought it was real,

but he was just doing it
to get close to Cavallo.

I never imagined that...

What's a Midtown real estate agent
doing mixed up with heroin dealers?

Their labs are mobile.

They need new places for their
processing centers every month or so,

and I had access to
all the information that they needed.

Look, this is not who I am.

I mean, I never meant for...

How did it start?

I had some problems a few years back.

I owed some people money.

A man came to me and he told me
that he could make it all better.

I just had to do a favor for him
every now and then.

And, at the time,
that actually sounded harmless.

But this man knew things about me.

I mean, things that
nobody could possibly know.

And I wanted to leave,

but after what happened
to Gordon's kid, I just...

Gordon found me a couple days ago.

He said he needed my help.

He said that I could end this.
And that we both could be free.

All I had to do was take him there.

And now Gordon is dead,

and I am next.

Cavallo? Who is he?

I've never seen him.

Didn't he just try to kill you?

If I knew who Cavallo was, don't
you think I would've told Gordon?

I've only ever dealt with
Cavallo's right-hand man before.

That's who was here
trying to kill me.

And who is his man?

His name is Harley.

Him?

Harley is Cavallo.

So Cavallo's hiding
right under everyone's noses.

How do I find him?

He finds me.

Monica, Gordon was right.
We can end this.

But we need your help.

We believe that Cavallo is
trafficking drugs through a pizzeria.

But we need to know which one.

I'm sorry, I don't know which one.

Yo,
we covered the whole area.

Whoever he was, he's in the wind.

All right. Why don't you guys
take Monica to the ER,

get her checked,
then get her over to Narcotics.

Let them talk to her.

One last question.

Johnny Farrell and Swede Andersen.

It's how Gordon got onto this story
in the first place.

He heard somebody at one of the
pizza joints using those names.

And he knew it was Cavallo's code.

Those were last week's names.

Do you know this week's names?

No, but Gordon said
they were from his favorite film.

The Maltese Falcon.

- You're a sneak!
- What? I'm a what?

Yeah, you are.

I don't care if these guys
could have recognized you.

If we hold them much longer,

there's going to be
another murder on our hands.

Relax. We're almost done.

We've got two Nicks down, two to go.
Okay, call you in a bit.

I wonder if I should've used
Sydney Greenstreet's character,

Kasper Gutman.

Now there's a guy
who loved his pizza.

Well, we already
put our money down on Bogie,

so let's just play this through.

Slice?

No, pick up actually for Spade.

Sam Spade.

Of course, Mr. Spade.
We have your order right here.

Here you go, Mr. Spade.

We put it on your tab.

Thank you.

Winner, winner, pizza dinner.

Possession. Trafficking.
Conspiracy to distribute.

That right there
is 30 years easy, Sal.

Thirty terrific, authentic years.

It's life if you are
an accessory to Burns' murder.

No, I had nothing to do with that,
I swear.

You swear?
So what are you trying to tell me?

Are you trying to tell me

that Harley had the idea
to put the body in your rival's oven?

You're a pizza man, Sal.

A body in an oven
sounds more like your speed.

No. No, no, no, no.
It was him. It was all him.

So what now, you're a victim?

Look, my place was struggling.

He came to me. He said the man
that he worked for could help.

All I had to do was let him
use my shop for a couple of months,

and he would make

my dream come true.

Your dream?

Yeah, he said, after it was over,

the man he worked for would

burn down Authentic Nick's.

This ain't me.

I never even smoked a joint.

It's all the other Nicks.

The stuff they were doing.
It was driving me crazy.

How did Burns' body get in the oven?

Harley called me that night.

Said he needed to throw
something in my oven overnight.

Didn't say what it was.

Yeah, but you knew
it wasn't a tray of lasagna.

And I said no way. No way.

I never signed up
for cremation services.

I never dreamed

what I turned away would
end up in Ralph Carbone's oven.

You want our help, Sal?

You want me to put in
a good word with the DA?

Yeah.

Then help me find him.

Help me find Cavallo.

You can't find him.

He finds you.

That's not helping me, Sal.

You don't get it.

When I run out of product,
I call him.

He delivers.

Make the call.

Harley Romero,
aka the legendary Cavallo.

He won't talk without a lawyer.

With the evidence from the ATM video
and Sal's testimony,

he's going to need one.

You know, it's brilliant
when you think about it.

The unassuming middleman
does all the dirty work

while everyone stays busy looking
for the menacing, mythic overlord.

Who no one ever meets,
because he's not really real.

Well, real or not,
he's going away for a long time.

Good work.

Hey.

Narcotics just finished
with Monica Wyatt.

She cooperated fully.

Okay. Process her out.

And put a patrol car outside her
building for the next few nights.

Just in case Cavallo has friends.

What's up?

I was just thinking about Burns.

How close he came to catching the guy
who killed his daughter,

only to come up short.

Well, if it's any consolation,
there's justice now.

Yeah.

- You know what's still bugging me?
- Hmm?

The guy is running for his life.

Why does he ditch his phone?

Well, he probably knew
that he was going to get killed

and he wanted at least
someone to know the truth.

What truth?

It wasn't like there was
a picture of Cavallo on it.

No. You're right.
The only person he had

a picture of was...

Just a few more questions, Ms. Wyatt.

I've been waiting over an hour.

You know the funny thing
about this case

is that nobody is
who they claim to be.

Not even you.

Monica Wyatt. It says here you
moved to New York in 2002 from LA.

Yeah, so?

So we did a little bit of digging.

And the only Monica Wyatt
that we found was a heroin addict,

who was shot point-blank,
and then dumped in the LA River.

Six months later,

word of a new and brutal kingpin
started sweeping the streets.

And you're saying that's me?

I'm a real estate agent.
Have you seen my apartment?

Yeah, we saw that one.

But all of the other ones
can only be previewed online.

What are you talking about?

Your apartment sales. To Walter Neff,
Frank Chambers, Richard Harland.

They're all characters
from noir films.

They aren't real.

You made millions in heroin holdings,

which you turned into millions
in real estate holdings.

All clean.

All the while
perpetuating the myth of Cavallo.

Gordon didn't die chasing a myth.

Oh, yeah, Gordon.

Well, there's something
that you didn't completely lie about.

You did meet him
a couple of years ago.

But not as a boyfriend.

He was a pain-in-the-ass reporter
that just kept getting a little too close.

Until a car came out of nowhere

and killed his daughter.

That got him out of your hair
for a couple of years,

but then he caught your scent again
at Nick's Pizza.

And that forced you
to get rid of him permanently.

And then you fed us Harley,

the sacrificial lamb
to throw us off your trail.

Harley attacked me.

Oh, yeah, and then he managed
to run down the fire escape

with such incredible speed

that two of New York's
finest detectives

were incapable of seeing him,
never mind catching him.

Beating yourself up.

It was a nice touch.

You know what I just realized.

All those noir films that
Cavallo draws his names from?

They all have one thing in common.

A femme fatale.

I'd like my lawyer now.

Ah! Great.

You're still up.

Couldn't sleep if I wanted to.

That makes two of us.

- Is that from Stephano's?
- Mmm-hmm.

You went all the way
across the bridge for a pizza?

Not for just anyone.

Fresh basil and sausage.

Any updates on...

Uh... Um...

I called a mediation session
with our school counselor today.

And it turns out

Lauren was just jealous of all the
time I was spending with Ashley.

She thought I had
ditched our friendship.

So what'd you do?

We hugged it out.

And now you're friends again?

It's too soon to tell.

Hurts like these

take time to heal.

Time.

And pizza.

Look at that.

- Cheers.
- Cheers.