Castle (2009–2016): Season 4, Episode 20 - The Limey - full transcript

Oh.

I'm telling you,
something happened,

something changed.

It's been weird
between us lately.

Lately?

Kate, it's been weird
for four years.

No, this is different.

He's different.
It's like he's pulling away.

Well, can you blame him?
He's probably tired of waiting.

Waiting for what?

What do you think?

The guy is crazy about you.

And despite your little act,
you're crazy about him.

Oh, what, was that supposed
to be some big secret?

Yes.

No.

Do you think he knows?

You remember how he used to be,

girl on either arm?

You really don't see
that guy too much anymore.

Why do you think that is?

He's waiting for you.

Yeah, but, Lanie...

I know.
You're dealing with stuff.

But you cannot ask him
to wait forever.

Unless, of course, you're okay
with him pulling away.

What if it doesn't work?

What if it ends up
like you and Javi?

Well, at least
we gave it a shot.

And so it didn't work out.
So what?

Now we can move on, give or take
the occasional booty call.

I just... I don't want to lose
what we have, you know?

Girl, please.

What exactly do you have,
really?

A friendship.

No. What you and I have
is a friendship.

What you and Castle have
is a holding pattern.

How long can you circle
before the fuel runs out?

Beckett.

Don't think you were saved
by the bell, Kate Beckett.

As your friend, I'm not
gonna let this drop.

So what, you think I should
tell him how I feel?

Yes.

You Hunt murderers
for a living. You can do this.

Okay. Okay.

I just... I-I have to find
the right time.

No time like the present.

What the...

On second thought,

maybe you should wait a bit.

What's that? Ryan's calling.
I gotta go.

I'll call you in about an hour.

Hey there.

I feel like I just walked into
a bad episode of "Miami Vice."

Okay, first, there are no
bad episodes of "Miami Vice."

Second, who died?

You from the looks of it.

You look like you just got
run over by a truck.

Yeah,

a truck delivering
a shipment of awesome.

No, I just flew into Vegas
for the weekend.

Just needed
a little change of scenery.

And you won the blonde
in a high-stakes poker match?

No, I met her
on the flight back.

And you just gave her your car?

Jacinda happens to be
a very trustworthy person.

She's a first-class
flight attendant.

It's not like I gave her
my social security number.

Castle...

Is everything okay?

Never better.

Our victim's
Naomi Allen, age 25.

Her green card indicates
that she's a British national.

Ryan is notifying
the consulate.

Her address is in Soho.

What was she doing
all the way down here?

Don't know, but she checked in

two hours
before she was killed.

I hope they prorated the room.

Good news is,
we have a witness.

The maid who discovered the body
saw a guy run out.

Did the maid get a good look?

She's with
the sketch artist now.

Well, whoever he is,
he was looking for something.

This place has been searched.

The one thing we do know
is that she was not robbed.

Her wallet, watch, and cash
were untouched.

Hey, Lanie, how does it look?

Like you waited too long.

The vic.

She was strangled but she
went down with a fight.

Prelim suggests a sign
of a struggle.

She took one to the face.

A well-dressed, attractive
woman in a seedy motel

and a guy who flees
the crime scene...

This might have been
a one-night stand gone wrong.

Are we talking about
the victim or Castle?

Hey, Espo.

Yeah.

Can you contact the next of kin
and canvass the area once
the sketch is done?

Yeah, no problem.

Hey, Beckett.

Found the vic's business card

in the side pocket
of her purse.

Looks like she works
in Manhattan.

"Naomi Allen, Kittman Group."

Yes, I was
her U.S. booking agent.

Naomi was
one of our top models.

So she was in the city
for work?

She split her time
between here and London.

The good ones usually end up
spending at least half the year
in New York.

Now do you have any idea why
she was at the Alexandria
motel last night?

Uh, no.
I've never even heard of it.

It's one of those, um,
pay-by-the-hour places.

Do you recognize this man?

No. No, I don't.

But you do have an idea
of who he might be.

It's just...

lately,

Naomi was making some choices.

What kind of choices?

Well, she seemed to have
lost interest

in standard modeling jobs.

Recently, she had
been booking more, uh,

unconventional gigs.

Like what?

Well, I heard the London office
booked her to attend

the birthday party
of some foreign dignitary

a few months ago.

She was hired to go to a party?

It's common for models to get
hired to pretty-up an event.

Some girls do it
to pick up extra cash.

And other girls do it
as a way of connecting

with wealthy men.

Uh, wait. Are you saying

that Naomi was hiring herself
out as an escort?

You just don't see
girls as good as Naomi

taking these party jobs.

Not unless there's a bigger
payout involved somewhere.

Do you know if she took on

any of these kinds
of gigs recently?

It's not really what we do.

Oh.

She did want me to try to get her
into an event last night, though,

uh, an album launch party
in midtown.

But I didn't have
any connections to it.

Last night?

Yeah.

Are you thinking
what I'm thinking?

Yeah, that we should
throw a party

and hire a bunch of models.

No.

That maybe Naomi somehow
got into that party last night

and that that's where
she met her killer.

That's what I was thinking.

Weird. We're usually
more in sync than that.

Hey, Ryan.

Did you find anything
at Naomi's apartment?

No, but someone else might have.
It's been tossed.

Not only that,
but a neighbor said

they saw a man leaving the
apartment late last night.

The neighbor I.D.'ed him
off the sketch.

It's the same guy
who fled the murder scene.

He couldn't find
what he was looking for

in the motel
so he searched her place.

Yeah, but this time,
he left a footprint.

Meaning?

Well, UNIS canvassed around
the apartment with the sketch.

He bought a bottle of
single malt with a credit card

a couple of blocks away.

Colin Hunt.
What do we have on him?

Nothing in the system, but I ran
a trace on the credit card.

He checked into
the Mondrian Soho this morning.

Here.

NYPD. Show me your hands.

You're making a mistake.

Yeah, like I haven't
heard that before.

Hands in the air now.

If you insist.

Whoa. Dude.

Whoa.

Allow me to introduce myself.

Detective Inspector Colin Hunt,
Scotland Yard.

You're a long way from home,
Detective Inspector Hunt.

How did you end up in that
dead girl's motel room?

I was at a seminar in D.C.
last night when Naomi called me,
panicked.

She said she was in trouble
and needed my help.

So you knew her?

Naomi was like a sister to me.

Her dad Terence was
my first partner on the job.

When he passed away,

I promised her family
that I'd look after her.

After she called me,
I grabbed the next flight,

but by the time I arrived,
it was too late.

And your first instinct
was to flee the crime scene?

I didn't flee. I left.

She was dead.

There was nothing else to do.

Yeah,
except maybe to hang around

and give the police
a statement.

You and I both know
that if I stuck around,

it'd be hours of questioning,
and then you'd send me off

with a "cheers,
we'll keep you posted."

But I suppose you had
something more important to do.

The room had been searched.

Whoever killed her
was looking for something.

I thought they might try
her apartment next.

By the time I got there,
it had already been tossed.

Look, I know I shouldn't
have been investigating,

but if you were
in a foreign country

and someone you loved
was killed, what would you do?

What were they looking for?

When he was on a job,
Naomi's dad used to stash a gun

in the lining of his kevlar.

When Naomi started modeling
as a teenager,

he didn't want her on the
underground without any protection,

so he taught her
to cut a tiny piece

of the lining in her jacket
to stash pepper spray.

That's where I found it.

You found what?

A message to me

about her killer.

What kind of message?

Not until I'm on the case.

Excuse me?

Detective, please,

I owe this to Naomi.

I owe it to her family.

You do realize
that I could arrest you

for withholding evidence?

And since you don't know
what that evidence is,

I could deny it.

And none of that will get us any
closer to catching her killer.

Let me work this case with you,

because if you don't, I swear,

I will go out there and catch
the bastard on my own.

Okay.

But I have to check in
with my captain first.

What's she like, your captain?

You ever see that Youtube video

of the grizzly bear
that decapitates a moose

with one swipe of its paw?

Comforting.

It's nothing personal.

She just doesn't like outsiders
in her precinct.

I don't need her to like it.
I just need her to allow it.

This whole thing with Naomi
doesn't add up.

Turning down
conventional modeling jobs,

booking sleazy gigs
at private parties...

That just doesn't sound like
the Naomi I know.

Yeah, well, sometimes it's
the people we think we know best

that we don't really know
at all.

Well...

You're in.

Thank you.

What?

Seriously?

Yeah, your supervisor at Scotland
Yard said you're one of the best.

Even Captain Gates
was impressed with your record.

Well, I guess it's not
outsiders she doesn't like.

It's just me.

Look, we had a deal.
What did Naomi give you?

This.

A key?

- You said she left a message.
- This is the message.

She put it in there
for me to find.

I guarantee, it has something
to do with her death.

This looks commercial.

It's an Arco-Rifkin 11-30-R,

mostly used for lockers like those found
at train stations or health clubs.

All right, well, I'll have Ryan
canvass the area

around her apartment
and the motel.

We'll see if any of
the businesses have lockers

that use this kind of key.

Yo, Beckett.

I got something.

Uh, yeah, Detective Esposito,

this is Detective Inspector
Colin Hunt.

He's from Scotland Yard.

He's gonna be consulting
on this case.

- He knows our victim.
- Hey. How's it going?

- Pleasure, mate.
- So what do you got?

Well, Naomi did make it to that
album release party last night

at a club in midtown,

but she was kicked out
by security around 10:00.

Why?

She had an altercation
with the host, female rapper

and ex-felon Nicky Jay.

And she wasn't afraid to take
a swing in front of paparazzi.

Wow. What was
the fight about?

Unclear, but uniforms are bringing
her up to interrogation now.

Do you usually
question them solo?

No, Castle and I usually
go in together.

Actually, you know what? Why
don't you guys take this one?

Are you sure?

Yeah, absolutely.

Besides, Colin's got
a personal interest.

- And I really don't now, do I?
- Ah. All right.

- It's settled then.
- Yeah, I guess it is.

Yeah, besides,
my lunch date is here.

I'll be back in a few hours.

You guys call me if you find
anything interesting.

Hey.

Ooh-hoo-hoo.

Hell, yeah, I clocked her.

She was trying
to make a move on my man.

- Your man Biggie Slim?
- That's right.

She had the nerve to say that he told
her to put her digits in his phone.

Did he?

That ain't the point!

That skinny bitch wasn't even
supposed to be there.

When I got up in her face,

she said Biggie Slim's cousin
Drew told her about the party.

But I knew that was B.S. because
Drew wasn't even invited.

It must make you so bloody mad

to know your man
has a wandering eye.

I had a girlfriend like that.

Traveled for business.

She'd ring from the airport
to say her flight was canceled.

I come to find out, she was
seeing some other bloke.

She sound like a ho.

All I'm saying is,
I understand your instinct

to lash out at the person
you believe is responsible.

I protect what's mine.
You should do the same.

Is that why you followed
Naomi to the motel

and strangled her
with your bare hands?

You must be high.

That skank wasn't worth
another second of my time.

I told security
to give her the boot,

and that was that.

Really? Can you prove it?

My driver brought us home.

And I was with Biggie Slim
the rest of the night.

Yeah, I went home
with Nicky Jay.

After the tussle,
she was all worked up.

But I like it when she gets worked
up, when she got something to prove.

She said that the fight
started because you were

spending time with this girl.

Oh, yeah, that girl.

Hey, what can I say?

Women are powerless against
my good looks and charms.

Yes, it's a real curse.

You and Naomi...
What did you talk about?

Ah, a little bit of this,
a little bit of that.

She was a bad chick, you know?

But a little off. You know
what I'm talking about?

No, what are you talkin' about?

I mean, she was acting
paranoid, man,

said somebody had
followed her to the party.

I figured she was just
blowing smoke.

Why is that?

Look, I don't just
produce Nicky Jay, all right?

I'm building my brand.

I got Biggie Slim records,
Biggie Slim clothing.

Hell, I even got
a Biggie Slim energy drink.

So some filly comes up
trying to make her time,

it's just a everyday thing
in my life.

Did she tell you who
she thought was following her?

Sure didn't.

I guess she wasn't lying,
though, huh?

Naomi left that party

and then three hours later,
she was dead.

Based on what she told
Biggie Slim,

Naomi knew somebody
was after her.

All right, let's canvass
the area around the party venue,

see if she was being followed.

And let's track down Nicky Jay
and Biggie Slim's driver.

I want to see
if they went straight home.

On it.

So... that story

that you told Nicky Jay
about your girlfriend...

Total pants.

I just wanted her to think
I sympathized.

And honestly,
after meeting Biggie Slim,

I do.

Well, maybe she's hanging on,

hoping that he'll change.

Guys like him never do.

Our M.E.'s
finished the autopsy.

Her larynx is crushed.

Whoever did it was strong.

Large hands, probably a male.

That's like half the city.

We may be able to narrow it down
a little further than that.

The pressure
from the killer's grip

left a print on her neck.

Were you able to pull a print?

We recovered a partial

thanks to the body lotion
she was wearing.

Is it in the system?

Not enough to run it,
but you bring me a print

off a suspect, I can tell you
if it's a match.

Excuse me.
I have to make a call.

Easy on the eyes.

- Cute accent, too.
- Mm.

I just got one question.

Hmm?

Where's Castle?

He took off...

for a lunch date.

In a Ferrari
full of flight attendant?

Yeah, he's probably trying
to rack up

his frequent flyer miles.

I'm sorry.

But you know she's just
a passing thing.

Do I? I mean, the guy
has been divorced twice,

and he's still chasing bimbos.

Maybe that's just who he is.

Look, maybe it's the wrong time

or maybe he's even
the wrong guy,

but if he is, how long
are you gonna wait to find out?

Ten years, I've been
keeping them company

while they spend
a night or two here

on their way
to where we're all going.

They all had plans, Kate,

things they were gonna do
when they got around to it...

Go on a cruise, lose 10 pounds,
fall in love.

They thought they had
all the time in the world.

But nobody does.

The personal ones are tough.

No call.

What's my tell?

The brooding lean.

Ah, yes.

Rookie move.

You know, even with
a mouth full of braces,

she was the prettiest girl
in her class.

Although having a cop for a dad
didn't do much for her social life.

Terry used to interrogate
her dates

when they'd drop her off.

I could see how that would
weed out the lightweights.

And then when she was 22,

she fell in love with
a young doctor, good guy.

He died last year in Africa
doing God's work.

I don't think she ever really got over
it, because hearing what she was up to,

it's like she was
a different person.

People change
when you're not looking.

Excuse me.

Hey, Ryan. What's up?

Are you sure?

Where?

Okay, great.
Call in a warrant.

They found a gym
near the motel.

Naomi bought a day pass there
the night that she was killed,

and the clerk said she was
in and out in three minutes.

Just enough time to run in
and hide something

in one of the lockers.

She bought the day pass
at 10:24 P.M.

That's 20 minutes
after she called me

to say she was in trouble.

She was leaving me a message.

She did better than leave
a message about the killer.

She left us a picture
of him as well.

Anything on
the number sequence?

We're running it
through every database,

- but nothing so far.
- Naomi wrote it on there for a reason.

What about the photo?

Well, based on the light
and background architecture,

this photo was taken
in midtown New York.

Hey. What did I miss?

Not much.

Oh, we did manage
to find that mystery locker.

And that guy in the photo,

he's probably our killer.

How was your lunch?

Oh, I loved the special.

I'll bet.

Wait a minute.

Can you blow up
this one section?

Yeah, sure.

Rounded and gold?
It's a plaque.

It's the British seal.

This picture was taken right
outside the British consulate.

Pull up a list
of the consulate employees.

Here you go.

Well, he's not on this page.

There he is.

Nigel Wyndham.

Deputy general
of the British consulate.

Which means he's just under
the consulate general in rank,

so he's responsible
for the daily operations

in financial
and logistical matters.

What the hell was Naomi
doing mixed up with this guy?

That was my mate
at Scotland Yard.

He found out some intriguing
details on Nigel Wyndham,

like the fact that a girlfriend in
college died rather mysteriously

while they were on holiday
in Rome.

Well, was he ever charged?

No, and after that, he had
a string of bad investments

until he married
Cynthia Wadlow.

It was her prominent family

who pulled strings
that got him a position,

first at the ministry
of culture,

- and then here at the consulate.
- Yo.

So we've been reconstructing
Naomi's movements

since she landed in New York
a couple of weeks ago.

Her financials indicate

that she booked a car service
last week

that dropped her at nob...

Now we showed the host
Nigel's picture,

and he confirmed
that they met for dinner.

Did the host notice anything?

Yeah, he noticed the C-Note
that Nigel dropped

to secure the romantic table
in the back.

Hey.

I just called the consulate.

The day after
the romantic nobu dinner,

security removed Naomi
from Nigel's office.

Well, it sounds like a fight.

Uh, security heard Naomi
yell something about Cynthia

as they escorted her out.

Well, it makes perfect sense.

Stuck in a marriage
of convenience,

Nigel meets the young
and beautiful Naomi,

finds her irresistible.

A chance meeting turns
to dinner, dinner to a tryst,

but then Naomi wants more.

Nigel realizes that his affair
has become a threat

to his position, his reputation,
to the life he built

on the backs of his wife
and her family.

Sir, if Nigel's wife
found out about an affair,

it would kill his marriage
and his career.

Detective Inspector Hunt,

I take your silence to mean
that you don't agree?

Well, the Naomi I knew

would never fall
for someone like Wyndham,

but she wouldn't have left
his picture in that locker

if he weren't connected
to her death somehow.

Nigel Wyndham's position at the
consulate includes diplomatic immunity.

Which would be waived if he was
a suspect in a murder case.

If I pick up the phone
to make that request,

I'm gonna need something more
concrete than just a theory.

Sir, Lanie pulled
our killer's prints

off of our victim's neck.

And given everything
that we know right now,

I am willing to bet that
they're a match to Nigel's.

A bet's not enough.

But if you can get
those prints,

then this is
a whole different conversation.

Here's the problem, bro...

foreign dignitaries don't
register their fingerprints

with local law enforcement.

And if we put in a request to the
consulate, they'll box us out

and alert Nigel
that he's a suspect.

Yeah, I thought Scotland Yard
would be able to get them.

Even with his connections
across the pond, we struck out.

Okay, boys.
Here it is.

Here's what?

My foolproof plan for
getting Nigel's fingerprint.

Nigel lives
in a high-rise apartment

here on Park avenue.

Yeah. High security.

Exactly.
Ryan, you'll be here...

Front door... dressed
as a flower delivery boy.

Esposito, you'll be here
dressed as a hobo.

Question.

Why's the brown man
gotta be a hobo?

You want the flowers?

Hobo it is.

You boys will cause
a distraction here

whilst I rappel
down the side of the building

- with Nicolai.
- Who's Nicolai?

He's a Romanian gymnast
I found on Youtube.

He's extremely flexible and
fits in the duffel bag.

Using a glass cutter...

- Excuse me, gents.
- I can...

Has anyone seen
Detective Beckett?

Wow.

Uh, you guys going out?

I pulled some strings
and got us into a party

at the British consulate
tonight.

Nigel will be there.

We'll get his prints,
and he won't even know it.

Cheers, lads.

Cheers.

Or they could do that.

Yeah, sure,

if you want to do it
the easy way.

Thank you.

So who is sir Alfred Heath?

Tonight, I am.

The lads back home said
the real sir Alfred

is down as a no-show.

Gout or some damn thing.

Yeah, but what if Nigel Wyndham
doesn't show either?

He'll be here.

And I expect he'll skip
the champagne

and drink something posh
and pretentious,

leaving his print on the glass.

Well, what if he doesn't drink?

He's British.

Trust me, he drinks.

May I?

I didn't realize that dancing
was a part of the plan.

Oh, well...

It offers
a perfect vantage point.

Huh.

Do you come
to a lot of these events?

No, thank God. Why?

You just seem very confident.

Ah.

Well, that's because
my companion

is the most beautiful woman
in this room.

That's clearly
the champagne talking.

I'm sure you're just comfortable here
because you're amongst your own people.

These aren't my people.

My people are the ones
carrying the trays.

Yeah.

I grew up on the East End.

My mom cleaned flats.
Dad worked in a factory.

They wanted something better,
they just...

They couldn't quite get it.

And then?

I was admitted to Eton
on a scholarship

where I minored in blending in.

- Oh.
- What about you?

I grew up in the city

and, uh, went to college
in California.

Well, you could obviously
do anything

you put your mind to.

Why be a cop?

I guess it was just my calling.

Ah, a crusader.

I know the type.

Doesn't leave a lot of time for
personal life, though, does it?

What about you? Are you
the crusader type as well?

Married to the bit, I'm afraid.

The job comes first.

Though sometimes,
I wish it didn't.

Yeah. I know the feeling.

Wait a minute.
Look over there by the bar.

My 1:00.

Let the games begin.

All right. Take care.

Good evening.

Nigel Wyndham.
Deputy general.

Jean Harrington.

Bored.

Well, we'll have to remedy
that, Ms. Harrington.

Uh, one for the lady, please.

Oh, a ring.
That's discouraging.

Oh, well, it needn't be.

To new friendships.

Now tell me, Ms. Harrington,
are you here alone?

If so, it would be
a grave injustice.

My date's more interested
in networking than he is in me.

In that case, he won't object

if I ask you for a dance.

You know what?

I wouldn't care even if he did.

Shall we?

Mm-hmm.

So... tell me,
Ms. Harrington,

what should I know about you?

Well, there's more to me
than meets the eye.

Well, what meets the eye

is irresistible.

You know, actions
speak louder than words.

Meaning?

Meaning,
if I'm so irresistible,

then why aren't you using
both your hands?

Excuse me, your excellency.

Oh, excuse me. Pardon me.

Coming through. Oh.

- Sorry, sir. As you were.
- Very rude!

- Excuse me. Oh.
- Oh!

Excuse me.

Sir Alfred Heath?

Yes.

Might I have a word, sir?

There seems to be two of you
here this evening.

All right.
Let's try this way.

I-I have to ask,

are you as aggressive
in your other activities

as you are on the dance floor?

Ah, you know, what can I say?

I like to lead...
all the time.

Well, there's obviously
been a serious mistake.

I am the real sir Alfred,

so if there's somebody else,
uh, here as sir Alfred,

then they're obviously, uh,
an imposter.

Uh, you have any I.D.?

- Uh, I-I actually don't have any.
- Are you...

- no, no, I've left my, um...
- Is... is everything all right?

Um, yeah. You know,
I'm suddenly...

I feel very hungry.
Excuse me.

Would you like one of these?
I hear they're great.

I'm not a caviar man myself.

Yeah, but I hear
they're an aphrodisiac.

Mm. Not for me, I'm afraid.

I'm sorry
to intrude, Mr. Wyndham, sir.

Yes, what is it, Bryson?

Uh, the young lady,
I need her to come with me.

Well, for what purpose?

Don't worry, darling.

I know that we'll see
each other again very soon.

I had the waiter,
then I lost him.

I've bollixed up
the whole plan,

and now we've got nothing.

Oh, I wouldn't say nothing.

I swiped Wyndham's card case.

It's got his prints
all over it.

You sneaky little thief.

That's bloody brilliant.

Thank you. Now let's go
get this son of a bitch.

The print's not a match.

What?

C.S.U. ran the fingerprints
off the card case,

compared 'em to the one that
Lanie found on Naomi's body.

It wasn't Nigel Wyndham's.

No, that's not possible.
Run it again.

Ryan already did that
three times.

Wyndham's not our killer.

He's behind this.
I know it.

It's why Naomi left us
his photograph.

Well, maybe he hired someone
to do his dirty work for him.

Like one of his security men.

Can you get Scotland Yard
to run background checks

on the security staff?

Or a better path might be to
look into this mysterious number

that Naomi wrote on the back of that
photo, which is a mystery no longer.

Is this lobster, bro?

Lucky for you,
Jacinda's a light eater.

You heat that up,
little bit of melted butter...

Are you telling us you know
what that number means? How?

Well, as Jacinda and I
were enjoying

our succulent lobsters
from Maine,

paired with an earthy

yet elegant Pinot Noir
from Sonoma Valley...

Castle, numbers.

Right. Well, we were
going over the file.

Turns out Jacinda's
quite a little crime solver.

You showed the stewardess
the evidence file?

No.

I took a picture of it
with my phone.

And the preferred nomenclature
is "flight attendant."

The point is,
this code refers to

a diplomatic pouch.

How do you know that?

Jacinda recognized the format.

Furthermore, she told me
these last three digits

are a reference code
for Royal Eastern Airlines.

Which means the pouch was
delivered on that airline.

Exactly. The "W4" refers to
the size of the pouch,

the "1949" indicates
exactly which pouch it is

in the consulate sequence.

As the deputy general,
Nigel signs for all the pouches.

So then maybe this wasn't
about an affair gone wrong

between Nigel and Naomi.

- It's about smuggling.
- Well, that makes a lot of sense.

Diplomatic pouches are sealed
and their contents

bypass T.S.A.
and customs inspections.

Naomi must have got on to what
Wyndham was doing somehow.

We need to know
what was in that pouch.

The consulate's never gonna
release that information.

Oh, we don't have to worry
about the consulate.

The airline keeps a copy
of the waybill.

Get ahold of the airline. Let's
get that waybill down here.

Ryan, grab a pen.

What?

Castle, you can't just share

confidential police information
with an outsider.

Even if it solves the case?

I mean, she gave us a lead.

That's more than you got
at the consulate.

And that's supposed to
make this all okay?

Jacinda just wanted to help.
What's the big deal?

You don't get it, do you?

No, I guess I don't.

No, I gu...
I guess you don't.

We found something
you're gonna want to see.

The airline e-mailed over
the waybill.

The pouch
that matches our number

was shipped
from the British consulate

about a year ago.

It flew from J.F.K.

To Kampala, Uganda.

Uganda? That can't be
a coincidence.

What do you mean?

Naomi's boyfriend, the one who
died, he was killed in Uganda.

Any idea of what
was being shipped?

Uh, just that it weighed
200 pounds.

Well, that's awfully heavy
for a pouch.

Well, a diplomatic pouch
can be as small as an envelope

or as big as a cargo container.

Whatever's being
shipped, it's being sent out

about once a month.

I just combed through airline
waybills from the past year.

Ten other pouches,
all the same weight,

were flown from here to Uganda.

In fact, one of them is listed as being
in J.F.K.'s secure baggage area.

You mean to say,
one of those pouches

is at the airport right now?

Finding out what's in that pouch
could tell us who killed Naomi.

Yeah, but we don't have
any jurisdiction here, Castle.

If the NYPD tries to open up
a British diplomatic pouch,

we could risk
an international incident.

Then it's a good thing
I'm not NYPD.

- Hey!
- Oh.

Good evening, sir.

I'm agent Bauer
with Homeland Security.

I'm here for the inspection.

Nobody radioed me
about any inspection.

Well, of course they didn't.

We conduct random checks
to assess security.

Telling you we were coming
kind of defeats the purpose.

Am I right?
We'd be tipping our hand,

showing our play book,
so to speak.

Two years, I've worked
this shift,

and I've never heard
of anything...

Look, Morgan, is it? I'm sure
you run a tight ship here.

So if things inside are secure,

I'll make damn sure
your bosses know about it,

which will reflect well on you.

We're all on the same team
here, pal.

I gotta verify this
with my supervisor.

Yeah, you do that.

I'm getting more adept

at faking my way past people.

Must be all the practice.

You're in the baggage area?

Yeah, but I don't have
much time.

Maybe a minute before the guy
calls his supervisor

- to check my story.
- All right, so based on

the shipping code, the pouch
that you're looking for

is about 5 feet long.

Does the waybill say

if it's a crate, a footlocker,
cardboard box, what?

No, sorry, bro.

But it's 200 pounds, so it's
gotta be something sturdy.

Something sturdy.
Right.

Oh, come on.

Here we go. I found it.
It's a crate.

Agent Bauer!

I need you
to step outta there, please.

Okay, that didn't sound good.

Agent Bauer...
What did he expect?

I heard that.

Uh, I've
just about wrapped up here.

Sir, my supervisor
will be here...

And he will be mighty pleased
with your work, Morgan,

mighty pleased.

It's clear to me that you've
been working harder than a...

One-legged man
in an ass-kicking contest.

Step outta there now, sir.
I will not tell you again.

Hello!

You there? Hello!

Bloody hell.

What's in the crate?

Missiles.

Customs and Homeland Security
have impounded the crate,

and Interpol is on their way
to J.F.K.

How did you explain opening
the diplomatic pouch?

Well, everyone's more interested
in the missiles at the moment,

but I expect I'll be
in hot water at some point.

And where does this
leave Wyndham?

Untouched.

What do you mean untouched?
He was smuggling weapons.

Well, they'll have
an inquiry, of course,

but they can't prove he knew
what was in the crate.

And since we opened
the crate illegally,

we won't be able
to use it as evidence.

At least it all starts
to make sense now.

Naomi was trying to solve
Aiden's murder.

That would be
Naomi's boyfriend... Aiden Miller.

He worked for doctors
without borders in Uganda

until his helicopter
was shot down

by guerilla forces a year ago.

The British government
launched an investigation,

but was never able to determine
how the rebels acquired

a Stinger missile.

Which we now know came to them

courtesy of Nigel Wyndham.

Yeah, except Nigel's
not the type

to get his hands dirty
when it comes to missiles

or murder.

He must have had a partner

who had a line
on those Stingers.

And if Naomi started looking
into the smuggling operation...

Then perhaps it was
the partner who got rid of her.

So then the question is,
who is this partner?

Everything Naomi did
was about finding out

who supplied the weapon
that killed her boyfriend.

That's why she stopped
taking modeling gigs.

That's why she came to New York.
It's...

Maybe there's someone
on that list of attendees

for that, uh,
foreign dignitary party.

I mean, it all started when she
booked that out of London

a few months ago.

Paulo Makuzi.

And who is he?

A leader of the rebel army
in Uganda.

Naomi must have heard
something at the party.

That's what led her
to the consulate.

And that romantic dinner with
Nigel was just part of her agenda

to get the pouch number
from his office.

So then there's just one piece

that doesn't fit
in her investigation.

What was she doing
with Biggie Slim?

I want you to take a close look
at this photo.

Yeah, I seen this one.

Paparazzi caught me
and Nicky Jay

coming out of the studio
a couple weeks ago.

In fact, that is Nicky Jay's
black S.U.V., isn't it?

- Bought by Biggie Slim himself.
- Mm.

Supply and demand.
She demands, I gotta supply.

You know, the thing
that I find intriguing

is that before you became
Biggie Slim,

you're name was Darius Young,

best known for launching several
failed Internet start-ups.

Just a man ahead of my time.

Well, the S.E.C. thought you were
a man trying to fleece investors.

See, I was never charged
for that.

One of your ventures,

a music sharing web site
based in the U.K.,

caught the attention
of British authorities.

And when they tried
to shut it down,

an aide to
the minister of culture

lobbied on your behalf.

And do you know
who that aide was?

Nigel Wyndham.

In fact, this is Nigel

stepping out of
the very same black S.U.V.

No, I don't think so.

Why don't you take
a closer look?

It's got the same custom
pinstripes on the door.

It's just somebody else's truck
with those stripes on there.

Your driver already admitted that
he drove you to this meeting
outside the consulate.

We also know that your cousin is
in the service... Drew Harris.

A staff sergeant.
He works at an armory.

He supplied the missiles.

You knew that Wyndham
had access

to the diplomatic pouch,
and you saw an opportunity.

Supply and demand.

That's a whole lot
of speculation there, mate.

Well, we weren't the only ones
to put together the pieces.

Naomi wasn't giving you
her phone number.

She was looking for evidence.

Once you realized
that she was the same girl

that Wyndham caught snooping,

you followed her to the motel
and you killed her.

Well, how y'all
gon' prove that?

A partial fingerprint
on Naomi's body...

And it's a match to you.

You know, the thing

that I still can't figure out
is, why Uganda?

Why would you care?

Man, it wasn't about Uganda.

It was just about the money.

I didn't even know where Wyndham
was shipping the stuff to.

Good.
Uh, call my assistant.

I am, uh, wide open all week.

Actually, you're not.

Or the following week,
for that matter.

Told you I'd see you soon.

What is this?

Getting thrown out of here
once already wasn't enough
for you people?

Security.

They can't help you, mate.
Nobody can.

Not even your well-funded
Ugandan friends.

Nigel Wyndham...

You're under arrest for
international arms trafficking

and for abetting in the murder
of a British citizen.

Her dad would've been proud...

How brave she was,
taking on these men.

But I so wish
she hadn't done it.

So what happens now?
Do you go back to D.C.?

London, I'm afraid.

Face the music.

You know, they should
give you a commendation.

Well, that is
wildly improbable.

Well, Detective Beckett,

it's been a true pleasure.

The pleasure was all mine,
Detective Inspector Hunt.

Please. Colin.

Kate.

You know, I have a few hours
before my flight, Kate.

Could I persuade you
to let me buy you a drink?

Um...

I'm sorry. I have a bit
of paperwork to do.

Another time.

Where's Scotland Yard off to?

Oh, he's going back to London.

Um... Castle,
do you have a second?

Can we talk...

Actually, I don't. Jacinda has the
Ferrari double parked in a loading zone.

Wow.

Four dates in three days.
You like her.

Yeah. Why?

Uh, she just... she doesn't
seem like your type.

Well, she's fun
and uncomplicated.

I think that's what
my life needs right now.

Hi. It's, uh, it's Kate.

Do you still
want to buy me that drink?