A blond, bearded man tosses a room looking for something. A beautiful dead woman lies on the floor. The man finally checks the lining of the corpse’s hot pink jacket. Housekeeping approaches the room. The man hears the keys in the door and rushes to find what he’s searching for. He rips something out of the liner and kisses the dead girl’s cheek. The man opens the door just as the housekeeping lady is about to enter and rushes past her. The cleaning lady enters and screams as she finds the body.
Beckett pours wine.
Beckett: I’m telling you, something happened, something changed. It's been weird between us lately.
Lanie: Lately? Kate, it's been weird for four years.
Beckett: No, this is different. He's different. It's like he's pulling away.
Lanie: Well, can you blame him? He's probably tired of waiting.
Beckett: Waiting for what?
Lanie: What do you think? The guy is crazy about you. And despite your little act, you're crazy about him.
Beckett gives Lanie an "Oh, please" look.
Lanie: Oh, what, was that supposed to be some big secret?
Beckett drops her fake dubiousness.
Beckett: Yes.
Lanie gives Beckett an "Oh, please" look.
Beckett: No.
Lanie raises her eyebrows.
Beckett: Do you think he knows?
Lanie: 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.
Beckett: Yeah, but, Lanie…
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.
Beckett: What if it doesn’t work? What if it ends up like you and Javi?
Lanie: 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.
Beckett: I just… I don’t want to lose what we have, you know?
Lanie: Girl, please. What exactly do you have, really?
Beckett: A friendship.
Lanie: 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’s cell rings.
Beckett: Beckett.
Near the motel.
Lanie: Don't think you were saved by the bell, Kate Beckett. As your friend, I'm not gonna let this drop.
Beckett: So, what, you think I should tell him how I feel?
Lanie: Yes! You hunt murders for a living. You can do this.
Beckett: Okay. Okay. I jus… I… I have to find the right time.
Lanie: No time like the present.
Tires screech and Castle pulls up in his Ferrari with a hot young blond.
Lanie: What the…
The blonde laughs as they get out of the car.
Lanie: On second thought, maybe you should wait a bit.
Lanie pretends to hear something.
Lanie: What's that? Ryan's calling, I gotta go.
Lanie leaves and Beckett turns to the car. The blonde rushes over to the driver's side and Castle holds the door open for her as she gets in.
Castle: I'll call you in about an hour.
Beckett makes a grimace and the blonde speeds off in Castle's car. Castle approach.
Castle: Hey there.
Beckett: I feel like I just walked into a bad episode of Miami Vice.
Castle: Okay, first, there are no bad episodes of Miami Vice. Second, who died?
Beckett: You from the looks of it. You look like you just got run over by a truck.
Castle: Yeah, a truck delivering a shipment of awesome. Nah, I just, uh, flew into Vegas for the weekend. Just needed a little change of scenery.
Beckett: And you won the blonde in a high-stakes poker match?
Castle: No, I met her on the flight back.
Beckett: And you just gave her your car?
Castle: 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.
Beckett: Castle...
Beckett stops him.
Beckett: Is everything okay?
Castle: Never better.
Castle continues towards the crime scene, leaving Beckett confused by his distance.
In the motel.
Esposito: Our victim’s Naomi Allen, age 25. Her green card indicates that she’s a British national. Ryan is notifying the consulate.
Beckett checks Naomi’s ID.
Beckett: Her address is in Soho. What was she doing all the way down here?
Esposito: Don’t know, but she checked in two hours before she was killed.
Castle: I hope they prorated the room.
Esposito: Good news is, we have a witness. The maid who discovered the body saw a guy run out.
Beckett: Did the maid get a good look?
Esposito: She’s with the sketch artist now.
Beckett: Well, whoever he is, he was looking for something. This place has been searched.
Esposito: The one thing we do know is that she was not robbed. Her wallet, watch, and cash were untouched.
Beckett: Hey, Lanie, how does it look?
Lanie: Like you waited too long.
Beckett: The vic.
Lanie: She was strangled, but she went down with a fight. Prelim suggests a sign of a struggle. She took one to the face.
Beckett: 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.
Lanie: Are we talking about the victim or Castle?
Beckett: Hey, Espo.
Esposito: Yeah.
Beckett: Can you contact the next of kin and canvass the area once the sketch is done?
Esposito: Yeah, no problem.
Ryan: Hey, Beckett. Found the vic’s business card in a side pocket of her purse. Looks like she works in Manhattan.
Castle: “Naomi Allen, Kittman Group.”
At kittman group.
Claire Panchard: Yes, I was her U.S. booking agent. Naomi was one of our top models.
Beckett: So, she was in the city for work?
Claire Panchard: She split her time between here and London. The good ones usually end up spending at least half the year in New York.
Beckett: Now, do you have any idea why she was at the Alexandria Motel last night?
Claire Panchard: Uh, no. I’ve never even heard of it.
Castle: It’s one of those, um, pay-by-the-hour places.
Beckett: Do you recognize this man?
Beckett shows Claire the sketch of the bearded man.
Claire Panchard: No. No, I don’t.
Beckett: But you do have an idea of who he might be.
Claire Panchard: It’s just…lately, Naomi was making some choices.
Beckett: What kind of choices?
Claire Panchard: Well, she seemed to have lost interest in standard modeling jobs. Recently, she’d been booking more, uh, unconventional gigs.
Beckett: Like what?
Claire Panchard: Well, I heard the London office booked her to attend the birthday party of some foreign dignitary a few months ago.
Beckett: She was hired to go to a party?
Claire Panchard: 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.
Castle: Uh, wait, are you saying that Naomi was hiring herself out as an escort?
Claire Panchard: You just don’t see girls as good as Naomi taking these party jobs. Not unless there’s a bigger payout involved somewhere.
Beckett: Do you know if she took on any of these kinds of gigs recently?
Claire Panchard: It’s not really what we do.
Beckett: Oh.
Claire Panchard: She did want me to try to get her into an event last night, though, a… Album launch party in Midtown. But I didn’t have any connections to it.
Beckett: Last night?
Claire Panchard: Yeah.
Near the bullpen.
Beckett: Are you thinking what I’m thinking?
Castle: Yeah, that we should throw a party and hire a bunch of models.
Beckett: 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.
Castle: Weird. We’re usually more in sync than that.
Beckett: Hey, Ryan, did you find anything at Naomi’s apartment?
Ryan: No, but someone else might have. It’s been tossed. Not only that, but a neighbour said they saw a man leaving the apartment late last night. The neighbour IDed him off the sketch. It’s the same guy who fled the murder scene.
Castle: He couldn’t find what he was looking for in the motel, so he searched her place.
Ryan: Yeah, but this time, he left a footprint.
Beckett: Meaning?
Ryan: Well, unis canvassed around the apartment with the sketch. He bought a bottle of single malt with a credit card a couple blocks away.
Ryan hands Beckett the credit card statement.
Beckett: Colin Hunt. What do we have on him?
Ryan: Nothing in the system, but I ran a trace on the credit card. He checked into the Mondrian Soho this morning.
Beckett walks down the hotel corridor with Castle and the concierge, her gun at the ready.
Concierge: Here.
Beckett takes the key card from the concierge and unlocks the door. She enters, gun raised, just as Hunt rounds the corner, tucking a bath towel around his waist.
Beckett: NYPD! Show me your hands.
Colin Hunt: You’re making a mistake.
Beckett: Yeah, like I haven’t heard that before. Hands in the air now.
Colin Hunt: If you insist.
Hunt raises his hands from his towel and the towel drops.
Castle: Whoa. Dude.
Castle covers Beckett’s eyes with his hand. Castle looks at Hunt.
Castle: Whoa.
Castle covers his own eyes with his other hand.
Colin Hunt: Allow me to introduce myself. Detective Inspector Colin Hunt, Scotland Yard.
Beckett peeks around Castle’s hand.
Beckett checks Hunt’s ID.
Beckett: You’re a long way from home, Detective Inspector Hunt. How did you end up in that dead girl’s motel room?
Hunt gets dressed.
Colin Hunt: 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.
Castle: So you knew her?
Colin Hunt: 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.
Beckett: And your first instinct was to flee the crime scene?
Colin Hunt: I didn’t flee. I left. She was dead. There was nothing else to do.
Beckett: Yeah, except maybe to hang around and give the police a statement.
Colin Hunt: You and I both know that if I stick around, it’d be hours of questioning, and then you’d send me off with a “Cheers, we’ll keep you posted.”
Beckett: But I suppose you had something more important to do.
Colin Hunt: 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’d loved was killed, what would you do?
Beckett and Castle exchange a look.
Castle: What were they looking for?
Colin Hunt: When he was on a job, Naomi’s dad used to stash a gun in the lining of his Kevlar. When Naomi started modelling as a teenager, he didn’t want her in 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.
Beckett: You found what?
Colin Hunt: A message to me about her killer.
Castle: What kind of message?
Colin Hunt: Not until I’m on the case.
Beckett: Excuse me?
Colin Hunt: Detective, please, I owe this to Naomi. I owe it to her family.
Beckett: You do realize that I could arrest you for withholding evidence?
Colin Hunt: 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.
Beckett: Okay.
Castle is surprised.
Beckett: But I have to check in with my captain first.
Castle and Hunt watch Beckett speaking with Gates in Gates’s office.
Colin Hunt: What’s she like, your captain?
Castle: You ever see that Youtube video of the grizzly bear that decapitates a moose with one swipe of its paw?
Colin Hunt: Comforting.
Castle: It’s nothing personal. She just doesn’t like outsiders in her precinct.
Colin Hunt: 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 modelling jobs, booking sleazy gigs at private parties… That just doesn’t sound like the Naomi I know.
Castle: Yeah, well, sometimes it’s the people we think we know the best that we don’t really know at all.
Castle looks at Beckett through the window. Beckett exits Gates’s office.
Beckett: Well… You’re in.
Colin Hunt: Thank you.
Castle: What? Seriously?
Beckett: Yeah, your supervisor at Scotland Yard said you’re one of the best. Even Captain Gates was impressed with your record.
Castle: Well, I guess it’s not outsiders she doesn’t like. It’s just me.
Beckett: Look, we had a deal. What did Naomi give you?
Colin Hunt: This.
Hunt pulls out a key on a string and hands it to Beckett.
Castle: A key? You said she left a message.
Colin Hunt: This is the message. She put it in there for me to find. I guarantee, it has something to do with her death.
Beckett: This looks commercial.
Colin Hunt: It’s an Arco-Rifkin 11-30-R, mostly used for lockers like those found at train stations or health clubs.
Beckett: 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.
Esposito enters.
Esposito: Yo, Beckett, I got something.
Beckett: 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.
Esposito: Hey. How’s it going?
They shake hands.
Colin Hunt: Pleasure, mate.
Beckett: So what do you got?
Esposito: 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 ten o’clock.
Colin Hunt: Why?
Esposito: Well, she had an altercation with the host, female rapper and ex-felon Nicky Jay.
Esposito puts a photo on the murder board of Nicky Jay punching Naomi.
Esposito: And she wasn’t afraid to take a swing in front of paparazzi.
Castle: Wow. What was the fight about?
Esposito: Unclear, but uniforms are bringing her up to interrogation now.
Castle’s cell buzzes.
Colin Hunt: Do you usually question them solo?
Beckett: No, Castle and I usually go in together.
Castle checks his phone.
Castle: Actually, you know what? Why don’t you guys take this one?
Beckett is surprised.
Beckett: Are you sure?
Castle: Yeah, absolutely. Besides, Colin’s got a personal interest. I really don’t, now do I?
Colin Hunt: Ah. All right. It’s settled them.
Beckett: Yeah, I guess it is.
Castle: Yeah. Besides, my lunch date is here. I’ll be back in a few hours. You guys call me if you find anything interesting. Ooh-hoo-hoo.
Castle puts his arm around Jacinda and they exit. Beckett is uncomfortable.
Nicky Jay looks at the photo of her punching Naomi.
Nicky Jay: Hell, yeah, I clocked her. She was trying to make a move on my man.
Beckett: Your man, Biggie Slim?
Nicky Jay: That’s right. She had the nerve to say that he told her to put her digits in his phone.
Colin Hunt: Did he?
Nicky Jay: 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.
Colin Hunt: It must have made you so bloody mad to know your man has a wandering eye. I had a girlfriend like that. Travelled for business.
Beckett is surprised by his personal narrative.
Colin Hunt: She’d ring from the airport to say her flight was cancelled. I come to find out, she was seeing some other bloke.
Nicky Jay: She sound like a ho.
Colin Hunt: All I’m saying is, I understand your instinct to lash out at the person you believe is responsible.
Nicky Jay: I protect what’s mine. You should do the same.
Beckett: Is that why you followed Naomi to the motel and strangled her with your bare hands?
Nicky Jay: 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.
Beckett: Really? Can you prove it?
Nicky Jay: My driver brought us home. And I was with Biggie Slim the rest of the night.
Nicky smiles at the memory.
In the interview room.
Biggie Slim: 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.
Beckett: She said that the fight started because you were spending time with this girl.
Beckett slides over the photo of Nicky punching Naomi.
Biggie Slim: Oh, yeah, that girl. Hey, what can I say? Women are powerless against my good looks and charm.
Colin Hunt: Yes, it’s a real curse. You and Naomi, what did you talk about?
Biggie Slim: 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 talkin’ about?
Colin Hunt: No, what are you talkin’ about?
Biggie Slim: I mean, she was acting paranoid, man, said somebody had followed her to the party. I figured she was just blowing smoke.
Colin Hunt: Why is that?
Biggie Slim: 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 tries to make her time, it’s just a everyday thing in my life.
Beckett: Did she tell you who she thought was following her?
Biggie Slim: Sure didn’t. I guess she wasn’t lying, though, huh?
Beckett puts a photo of Biggie Slim on the murder board.
Beckett: Naomi left that party and then three hours later, she was dead.
ESPOSITO
Based on what she told Biggie Slim, Naomi knew somebody was after her.
Beckett: 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.
Esposito: On it.
Esposito leaves.
Beckett: So… That story that you told Nicky Jay about your girlfriend...
Colin Hunt: Total pants. I just wanted her to think I sympathized. And honestly, after meeting Biggie Slim, I do.
Beckett: Yeah, well, maybe she’s hanging on, hoping that he’ll change.
Colin Hunt: Guys like him never do.
Beckett seems upset by his response. Beckett’s cell chirps.
Beckett: Our M.E.’s finished the autopsy.
At the autopsy room.
Lanie: Her larynx is crushed. Whoever did it was strong. Large hands, probably a male.
Beckett: That’s, like, half the city.
Lanie: We may be able to narrow it down a little further than that.
Lanie pulls the sheet down.
Lanie: The pressure from the killer’s grip left a print on her neck.
Beckett: Were you able to pull a print?
Lanie: We recovered a partial thanks to the body lotion she was wearing.
Lanie hands a file to Beckett.
Beckett: Is it in the system?
Lanie: Not enough to run it, but you bring me a print off a suspect, I can tell you if it’s a match.
Colin Hunt: Excuse me. I have to make a call.
Hunt exits and Lanie pulls the sheet back over Naomi’s face. Beckett strolls away slowly and Lanie follows.
Lanie: Easy on the eyes. Cute accent, too. I just got one question.
Beckett: Hmm?
Lanie: Where’s Castle?
Beckett: He took off…for a lunch date.
Lanie: In a Ferrari full of flight attendant?
Beckett: Yeah, he’s probably trying to rack up his frequent flier miles.
Lanie: I’m sorry. But you know she’s just a passing thing.
Beckett: Do I? I mean, the guy has been divorced twice, and he’s still chasing bimbos. Maybe that’s just who he is.
Lanie: 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?
Beckett thinks over what Lanie said.
Lanie: Ten years, I’ve been keeping them company…
Lanie points to the morgue refrigerated storage wall.
Lanie: … 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 ten pounds, fall in love. They thought they had all the time in the world. But nobody does.
Beckett exits autopsy to find Hunt leaning against the wall, staring down at his phone.
Beckett: The personal ones are tough. No call.
Colin Hunt: What’s my tell?
Beckett: The brooding lean.
Hunt smiles at the obvious answer.
Colin Hunt: 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.
Beckett: I could see how that would weed out the lightweights.
Colin Hunt: 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.
Beckett: People change when you’re not looking.
Beckett’s cell rings.
Beckett: 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.
Colin Hunt: Just enough time to run in and hide something in one of the lockers.
In the locker room.
Ryan: She bought the day pass at 10:24 PM.
Colin Hunt: That’s twenty minutes after she called me to say she was in trouble.
Beckett uses the key that Hunt took from the jacket liner to open the locker. A photo is inside with a number sequence "W4-1949-898" written on the back. Beckett shows the numbers to Hunt.
Colin Hunt: She was leaving me a message.
Beckett: She did better than leave a message about the killer.
Beckett flips the photo around.
Beckett: She left us a picture of him as well.
The photo is of Nigel.
In the tech room.
Beckett: Anything on the number sequence?
Tech: We’re running it through every database, but nothing so far.
Colin Hunt: Naomi wrote it on there for a reason.
Beckett: What about the photo?
Tech: Well, based on the light and background architecture, this photo was taken in Midtown New York.
Castle enters.
Castle: Hey. What’d I miss?
Beckett: Not much. Oh, we did manage to find that mystery locker. And that guy in the photo, he’s probably our killer.
Castle looks intrigued by the photo on the screen.
Beckett: So… How was your lunch?
Castle: Oh, I loved the special.
Beckett: I’ll bet.
Castle turns sharply to look at Beckett.
Colin Hunt: Wait a minute. Can you blow up this one section?
The tech pulls up a section on the building.
Castle: Rounded and gold? It’s a plaque.
Colin Hunt: It’s the British seal. This picture was taken right outside the British consulate.
Beckett: Pull up a list of the consulate employees.
Tech: Here you go.
The tech pulls the profile list on the screen.
Colin Hunt: Well, he’s not on this page.
Hunt scrolls down on the screen.
Castle: There he is.
Hunt pulls up Nigel’s profile.
Beckett: Nigel Wyndham.
Castle: Deputy General of the British Consulate.
Colin Hunt: Which means he’s just under the Consulate General in rank, so he’s responsible for the daily operations in financial and logistical matters.
Beckett: What the hell was Naomi doing mixed up with this guy?
Colin hangs up his cell phone.
Colin Hunt: 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.
Gates: Well, was he ever charged?
Colin Hunt: 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.
Esposito enters.
Esposito: 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 Nobu. Now, we showed the host Nigel’s picture and he confirmed that they met for dinner.
Beckett: Did the host notice anything?
Esposito: Yeah, he noticed the C-note that Nigel dropped to secure the romantic table in the back.
Ryan enters.
Ryan: Hey. I just called the consulate. The day after the romantic Nobu dinner, security removed Naomi from Nigel’s office.
Gates: Well, it sounds like a fight.
Ryan: Uh, security heard Naomi yell something about Cynthia as they escorted her out.
Castle: 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.
Beckett: Sir, if Nigel’s wife found out about an affair, it would kill his marriage and his career.
Gates: Detective Inspector Hunt, I take your silence to mean that you don’t agree?
Colin Hunt: Well, the Naomi I knew would never fall with someone like Wyndham, but she wouldn’t have left his picture in that locker if he weren’t connected to her death somehow.
Gates: Nigel Wyndham’s position at the consulate includes diplomatic immunity.
Beckett: Which would be waived if he was a suspect in a murder case.
Gates: If I pick up the phone to make that request, I’m gonna need something more concrete than just a theory.
Beckett: Sir, Lanie pulled out killer’s prints off of our victim’s neck. And given everything that we know right now, I am willing to be that they’re a match to Nigel’s.
Gates: A bet’s not enough. But if you can get those prints, then this is a whole different conversation.
Gates exits.
Near the bullpen.
Esposito: Here’s the problem, bro… Foreign dignitaries don’t register their fingerprints with local law enforcement.
Ryan: And if we put in a request to the consulate, they’ll box us out and alert Nigel that he’s a suspect.
Esposito: Yeah, I thought Scotland Yard would be able to get them.
Ryan: Even with his connections across the pond, we struck out.
Castle rolls over the murder board, a building drawn on the backside.
Castle: Okay, boys. Here it is.
Ryan: Here’s what?
Castle: My foolproof plan for getting Nigel’s fingerprint. Nigel lives in a high-rise apartment here on Park Avenue.
Esposito: Yeah. High security.
Castle: Exactly. Ryan, you’ll be here.
Castle puts a magnet photo of Ryan on the board.
Castle: Front door, dressed as a flower delivery boy. Esposito, you’ll be here.
Castle puts a magnet photo of Esposito on the board.
Castle: Dressed as a hobo.
Esposito: Question. Why does a brown man gotta be a hobo?
Castle: You want the flowers?
Esposito: Hobo it is.
Castle: You boys will cause a distraction here whilst I rappel down the side of the building with Nicolai.
Ryan: Who’s Nicolai?
Castle puts his and Nicolai’s magnet photos on the side of the drawn building.
Castle: He’s a Romanian gymnast I found on Youtube. He’s extremely flexible and fits in the duffel bag.
Castle uses a laser pointer to point out the duffel bag drawing.
Castle: Using a glass cutter, I can…
Hunt enters in a tux.
Colin Hunt: Excuse me, gents. Has anyone seen Detective Beckett?
Hunt stops short as he catches sight of Beckett. Ryan and Esposito turn and their jaws also drop. Castle turns around and stares as he sees Beckett looking fabulous in a strapless black evening gown.
Ryan: Wow. Uh… You guys going out?
Colin Hunt: I pulled some strings and got us into a party at the British Consulate tonight.
Beckett: Nigel will be there.
Beckett takes Hunt's arm.
Beckett: We'll get his prints and he won't even know it.
Colin Hunt: Cheers, lads.
Castle stares after Beckett as she leaves with Hunt.
Castle: Cheers.
Ryan: Or they could do that.
Castle: Yeah, sure, if you want to do it the easy way.
Hunt takes some champagne from a passing server and hands a glass to Beckett.
Beckett: Thank you. So who is Sir Alfred Heath?
Colin Hunt: Tonight, I am. The lads back home said the real Sir Alfred is down as a no-show. Gout or some damn thing.
Beckett: Yeah, but what if Nigel Wyndham doesn’t show either?
Colin Hunt: He’ll be here. And I expect he’ll skip the Champagne and drink something posh and pretentious, leaving him print on the glass.
Beckett: Well, what if he doesn’t drink?
Colin Hunt: He’s British. Trust me, he drinks. May I?
Hunt leads Beckett to the dance floor and they puts their Champagne glasses on some servers’ trays.
Beckett: I didn’t realize that dancing was a part of the plan.
Colin Hunt: Oh, well… It offers a perfect vantage point.
Beckett: Huh.
They dance.
Beckett: Do you come to a lot of these events?
Colin Hunt: No, thank God. Why?
Beckett: You just seem very confident.
Colin Hunt: Well, that’s because my companion is the most beautiful woman in this room.
Beckett: That’s clearly the Champagne talking. I’m sure you’re just comfortable here because you’re amongst your own people.
Colin Hunt: These aren’t my people. My people are the ones carrying the trays. Yeah. I grew up on the East End. My mum cleaned flats. Dad worked in a factory. They wanted something better, they just…they couldn’t quite get it.
Beckett: And then?
Colin Hunt: I was admitted to Eton on a scholarship where I minored in blending in.
Beckett: Oh.
Colin Hunt: What about you?
Beckett: I grew up in the city, and, uh, went to college in California.
Colin Hunt: Well, you could obviously do anything you put your mind to. Why be a cop?
Beckett: I guess it was just my calling.
Colin Hunt: Ah, a crusader. I know the type. Doesn’t leave a lot of time for personal life, though, does it?
Beckett: What about you? Are you the crusader type as well?
Colin Hunt: Married to the bit, I’m afraid. The job comes first. Though sometimes, I wish it didn’t.
Beckett: Yeah. I know the feeling.
Beckett catches sight of Nigel.
Beckett: Wait a minute. Look over there by the bar. My one o’clock.
Nigel opens a small case and hands his business card to someone.
Colin Hunt: Let the games begin.
Hunt spins Beckett and they split as she heads for the bar. The men shake hands.
Nigel Wyndham: All right. Take care.
Nigel picks up his drink as the other man leaves. Beckett looks up at Nigel.
Nigel Wyndham: Good evening. Nigel Wyndham, Deputy General.
They shake hands.
Beckett: Jean Harrington, bored.
Nigel Wyndham: Well, we’ll have to remedy that, Ms. Harrington.
Nigel turns to the barman.
Nigel Wyndham: Uh, one for the lady, please.
Nigel hands Beckett her drink with his left hand.
Beckett: Oh, a ring. That’s discouraging.
Nigel Wyndham: Oh, well, it needn’t be.
Nigel raises his glass.
Nigel Wyndham: To new friendships.
They toast and drink.
Nigel Wyndham: Now tell me, Ms. Harrington, are you here alone? If so, it would be a grave injustice.
Beckett: My date’s more interested in networking than he is in me.
Nigel Wyndham: In that case, he won’t object if I ask you for a dance.
Beckett: You know what?
Beckett sets her glass down.
Beckett: I wouldn’t care even if he did.
Nigel Wyndham: Shall we?
Beckett: Mm-hmm.
Beckett takes his arm and they walk to the dance floor. Nigel takes his drink with him. Beckett catches Hunt’s eye as he faux-listens to a man with an Arab headdress.
Nigel Wyndham: So… Tell me, Ms. Harrington, what should I know about you?
Beckett: Well, there’s more to me than meets the eye.
Nigel Wyndham: Well, what meets the eye is irresistible.
Beckett: You know, actions speak louder than words.
Nigel Wyndham: Meaning?
Beckett: Meaning, if I’m so irresistible, then why aren’t you using both your hands?
Beckett pulls Nigel’s arm away from her waist, and taps the hand with the glass in it. Nigel takes a swig and puts the glass on a passing server’s tray. Beckett sharply lifts her eyes from Hunt to the glass to tell him to go after it.
Colin Hunt: Excuse me, Your Excellency.
Hunt rushes to get to the server, but bumps into people.
Colin Hunt: Oh, excuse me. Pardon me. Coming through. Oh. Sorry, sir. As you were.
Woman: Very rude!
Colin Hunt: Excuse me.
Hunt knocks something over.
Colin Hunt: Oh.
Woman: Oh!
Colin Hunt: Excuse me.
Security steps in front of Hunt, blocking his path.
Security: Sir Alfred Heath?
Colin Hunt: Yes.
Security: Might I have a word, sir? There seems to be two of you here this evening.
Beckett pretends to chuckle with Nigel, but she’s focused on Hunt not getting the glass.
Beckett: Sorry.
Beckett leads their dancing.
Nigel Wyndham: All right.
They chuckle again as Beckett leads.
Nigel Wyndham: I… I have to ask, are you as aggressive in your other activities as you are on the dance floor?
Beckett: Ah, you know, what can I say? I like to lead…
Beckett spins Nigel out and pulls him back in.
Beckett: All the time.
Beckett watches Hunt intensely as he’s questioned by security.
Colin Hunt: I am the real Sir Alfred, so if there’s somebody else, uh, here as Sir Alfred, then they’re obviously, uh, an imposter.
Security: Uh, you have any ID?
Colin Hunt: Uh, I… I actually don’t have any.
Nigel Wyndham: Are you…
Colin Hunt: I’ve left my, uh…
Nigel Wyndham: Is… Is everything all right?
Beckett: Um, yeah. You know, I’m suddenly… I feel very hungry. Excuse me.
Beckett reaches over to a server’s tray and grabs a spoon appetizer.
Beckett: Would you like one of these? I hear they’re great.
Nigel Wyndham: I'm not a caviar man myself.
Beckett: Yeah, but I hear they're an aphrodisiac.
Nigel Wyndham: Mm. Not for me, I'm afraid.
Security: I'm sorry to intrude, Mr. Wyndham, sir.
Beckett tenses, knowing she's caught.
Nigel Wyndham: Yes, what is it, Bryson?
Bryson: Uh, the young lady, I need her to come with me.
Nigel Wyndham: Well, for what purpose?
Beckett steps forward and presses herself into Nigel.
Beckett: Don't worry, darling…. I know that we'll see each other again very soon.
Beckett steps away and eats the caviar seductively as she walks off. Hunt takes her arm and security escorts them out.
Colin Hunt: I had the waiter, then I lost him. I've bollixed up the whole plan and now we've got nothing.
Beckett: Oh, I wouldn't say nothing.
Beckett pulls Nigel's case from the front of her dress.
Beckett: I swiped Wyndham's card case. It's got his prints all over it.
Colin Hunt: You sneaky little thief. That's bloody brilliant.
Beckett: Thank you. Now let's go get this son of a bitch.
Near the bullpen.
Esposito: The print's not a match.
Hunt & Beckett: What?
Esposito: CSU 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.
Beckett: No, that's not possible. Run it again.
Esposito: Ryan already did that three times. Wyndham's not our killer.
Colin Hunt: He's behind this, I know it. It's why Naomi left us his photograph.
Beckett: Well, maybe he hired someone to do his dirty work for him.
Colin Hunt: Like one of his security men.
Beckett: Can you get Scotland Yard to run background checks on the security staff?
Castle enters.
Castle: 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.
Castle points to the "W4-1949-898" written on the murder board and then hands Esposito his "doggie bag".
Esposito: Is this lobster, bro?
Castle: Lucky for you, Jacinda's a light eater. You heat that up, little bit of melted butter…
Colin Hunt: Are you telling us you know what that number means? How?
Castle: Well, as Jacinda and I were enjoying our succulent lobsters from Maine, paired with an earthy yet elegant Pinot Noir from Sonoma Valley…
Beckett: Castle, numbers.
Castle: Right. Well, we were going over the file. Turns out Jacinda's quite a little crime solver.
Beckett's in shock.
Beckett: You showed the stewardess the evidence file?
Castle: No. (laugh) 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.
Colin Hunt: How do you know that?
Castle: Jacinda recognized the format. Furthermore, she told me these last three digits are a reference code for Royal Eastern Airlines.
Esposito: Which means the pouch was delivered on that airline.
Castle: Exactly. The "W4" refers to the size of the pouch, the "1949" indicated exactly which pouch it is in the consulate sequence.
Colin Hunt: As the Deputy General, Nigel signs for all the pouches.
Beckett: So then maybe this wasn't about an affair gone wrong between Nigel and Naomi.
Colin Hunt: It's about smuggling.
Castle: Well, that makes a lot of sense. Diplomatic pouches are sealed and their contents bypass TSA and customs inspections.
Colin Hunt: Naomi must have got on to what Wyndham was doing somehow. We need to know what was in that pouch.
Esposito: The consulate's never gonna release that information.
Castle: Oh, we don't have to worry about the consulate. The airline keeps a copy of the waybill.
Beckett: Get ahold of the airline. Let's get that waybill down here.
Esposito dials his cell.
Esposito: Ryan, grab a pen.
Castle uses the espresso machine, using a lot of steam. Beckett enters upset and prepares to say something.
Castle: What?
Beckett: Castle, you can't just share confidential police information with an outsider.
Castle: Even if it solves the case? I mean, she gave us a lead. That's more than you got at the consulate.
Beckett: And that's supposed to make this all okay?
Castle: Jacinda just wanted to help. What's the big deal?
Beckett: You don't get it, do you?
Castle: No, I guess I don't.
Beckett: No, I gu… I guess you don't.
Ryan enters.
Ryan: Hey. We found something you're gonna want to see.
Castle follows Ryan out. Beckett lets out a little of her frustration.
Ryan reads from his computer.
Ryan: The airline e-mailed over the waybill. The pouch that matched our number was shipped from the British Consulate about a year ago. It flew from JFK to Kampala, Uganda.
Colin Hunt: Uganda? That can't be a coincidence.
Beckett: What do you mean?
Colin Hunt: Naomi's boyfriend, the one who died, he was killed in Uganda.
Beckett: Any idea of what was being shipped?
Ryan checks his computer.
Ryan: Uh, just that it weighed 200 pounds.
Beckett: Well, that's awfully heavy for a pouch.
Castle: Well, a diplomatic pouch can be as small as an envelope or as big as a cargo container.
Esposito enters.
Esposito: 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 JFK's secure baggage area.
Colin Hunt: You mean to say, one of those pouches is at the airport right now?
Castle: Finding out what's in that pouch could tell us who killed Naomi.
Beckett: 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.
Colin Hunt: Well, Then it's a good thing I'm not NYPD.
Hunt enters the diplomatic pouch section of the airport.
Morgan: Hey!
Colin Hunt: Oh, good evening, sir. I'm Agent Bauer with Homeland Security. I'm here for the inspection.
Morgan: Nobody radioed me about any inspection.
Colin Hunt: 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?
Hunt slaps the security guard good-naturedly on the back.
Colin Hunt: We'd be tipping our hand, showing our play book, so to speak.
Morgan: Two years, I've worked this shift, and I've never heard of anything…
Colin Hunt: 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.
Hunt pats Morgan and walks past him.
Colin Hunt: Which will reflect well on you. We're all on the same team here, pal.
Colin enters the baggage fence.
Morgan: I gotta verify this with my supervisor.
Morgan leaves.
Colin Hunt: Yeah, you do that.
Hunt dials his cell and looks at a note.
Colin Hunt: I'm getting more adept at faking my way past people. Must be all the practice.
Beckett, Ryan, Esposito, and Castle sit at her desk on speaker phone.
Beckett: You're in the baggage area?
Colin Hunt: Yeah, but I don't have much time.
Hunt searches the baggage area.
Colin Hunt: Maybe a minute before the guy gets his supervisor to check my story.
Beckett: All right, so based on the shipping code, the pouch that you're looking for is about five feet long.
Colin Hunt: Does the waybill say if it's a crate, a footlocker, cardboard box, what?
Esposito: No, sorry, bro.
Ryan: But it's 200 pounds, so it's gotta be something sturdy.
Colin Hunt: Something sturdy. Right.
Hunt continues searching.
Colin Hunt: Oh, come on.
He finds the crate and places the written post-it on top of the matching delivery slip "W4-2742-898".
Colin Hunt: Here we go. I found it. It's a crate.
Hunt puts down his phone and moves some other packages to reach the crate.
Morgan: Agent Bauer! I need you to step outta there, please.
Ryan: Okay, that didn't sound good.
Castle: Agent Bauer… What did he expect?
Colin Hunt: I heard that.
Hunt opens a knife and clears his throat.
Colin Hunt: Uh, I've just about wrapped up here.
Morgan: Sir, my supervisor will be here…
Colin Hunt: And he will be mighty pleased with your work, Morgan, mighty pleased.
Hunt cuts the straps off of the crate.
Colin Hunt: It's clear to me that you've been working harder than a...
Hunt tries to think of something.
Colin Hunt: ... One-legged man in an ass-kicking contest.
Hunt sighs at his own line. The team listens from the bullpen.
Morgan: Step outta there now, sir. I will not tell you again.
Hunt opens the crate.
Morgan: Hello! You there?
The crate has missiles in it.
Morgan: Hello!
Colin Hunt: Bloody hell.
Beckett: What's in the crate?
Colin Hunt: Missiles.
Near the bullpen.
Colin Hunt: Customs and Homeland Security have impounded the crate, and Interpol is on their way to JFK.
Beckett: How did you explain opening the diplomatic pouch?
Colin Hunt: Well, everyone's more interested in the missiles at the moment, but I expect I'll be in hot water at some point.
Castle: And where does this leave Wyndham?
Colin Hunt: Untouched.
Esposito: What do you mean "untouched"? He was smuggling weapons.
Colin Hunt: Well, they'll have an inquiry, of course, but they can't prove he knew what was in the crate.
Beckett: And since we opened the crate illegally, we won't be able to use it as evidence.
Colin Hunt: At least it all starts to make sense now. Naomi was trying to solve Aiden's murder.
Ryan enters and puts Aiden's photo on the murder board.
Ryan: 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.
Colin Hunt: The British government launched an investigation, but was never able to determine how the rebels acquired a Stinger missile.
Castle: Which we now know came to them courtesy of Nigel Wyndham.
Beckett: Yeah, except Nigel's not the type to get his hands dirty when it comes to missiles or murder.
Esposito: He must have had a partner who had a line on those Stingers.
Beckett: And if Naomi started looking into the smuggling operation...
Colin Hunt: Then perhaps it was the partner who got rid of her.
Ryan: So then the question is, who is this partner?
Castle: 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...
Light bulb moment.
Castle: 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.
Esposito hands a file to Hunt. He taps the file.
Colin Hunt: Paulo Makuzi.
Ryan: And who is he?
Colin Hunt: A leader of the rebel army in Uganda.
Beckett: Naomi must have heard something at the party. That's what led her to the consulate.
Esposito: And that romantic dinner with Nigel was just part of her agenda to get the pouch number from his office.
Castle: So then, there's just one piece that doesn't fit in her investigation.
Castle takes the photo of Biggie Slim from the murder board and puts it next to Naomi's.
Castle: What was she doing with Biggie Slim?
Beckett slaps a photo of Biggie Slim getting out of his SUV on the table.
Beckett: I want you to take a close look at this photo.
Biggie Slim: Yeah, I seen this one. Paparazzi caught me and Nicky Jay coming out of the studio a couple weeks ago.
Hunt glares at Biggie Slim, arms crossed, leaning against the wall.
Beckett: In fact, that is Nicky Jay's black SUV, isn't it?
Biggie Slim: Bought by Biggie Slim himself.
Beckett: Mm.
Biggie Slim: Supply and demand. She demands, I gotta supply.
Beckett: You know, the thing that I find intriguing is that before you became Biggie Slim, your name was Darius Young, best known for launching several failed internet start-ups.
Biggie Slim: Just a man ahead of my time.
Colin Hunt: Well, the SEC thought you were a man trying to fleece investors.
Biggie Slim: See, I was never charged for that.
Biggie Slim smiles.
Beckett: One of your ventures, a music sharing website based in the UK, 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 SUV.
Beckett slaps a copy of the locker photo on the table.
Biggie Slim: No, I don't think so.
Beckett: Why don't you take a closer look? It's got the same custom pinstripes on the door.
Biggie Slim: It's just somebody else's truck with those stripes on there.
Colin Hunt: Your driver already admitted that he drove you to this meeting outside the consulate.
Beckett: We also know that your cousin is in the service, Drew Harris.
Colin Hunt: A staff sergeant. He worked at an armory. He supplied the missiles.
Beckett: You knew that Wyndham had access to the diplomatic pouch, and you saw an opportunity.
Colin Hunt: Supply and demand.
Biggie Slim: That's a whole lot of speculation there, mate.
Beckett: Well, we weren't the only ones to put together the pieces.
Colin Hunt: Naomi wasn't giving you her phone number. She was looking for evidence.
Beckett: Once you realized that she was the same girl that Wyndham caught snooping, you followed her to the motel and you killed her.
Biggie Slim: Well, how y'all gon' prove that?
Colin Hunt: A partial fingerprint on Naomi's body… And it's a match to you.
Biggie Slim looks worried for the first time.
Beckett: You know, the thing that I still can't figure out is, why Uganda? Why would you care?
Biggie Slim shakes his head.
Biggie Slim: Man, it wasn't about Uganda. It was just about the money. I didn't even know where Wyndham was shipping the stuff to.
In British Consulate.
Nigel Wyndham: Good. Uh, call my assistant. I'm, uh, wide open all week.
Nigel shakes hands with a guest.
Colin Hunt: Actually, you're not.
Hunt and Beckett enter.
Colin Hunt: Or the following week, for that matter.
Beckett: Told you I'd see you soon.
Nigel Wyndham: What is this? Getting thrown out of here once already wasn't enough for you people? Security.
Colin Hunt: They can't help you, mate. Nobody can. Not even your well-funded Ugandan friends.
Nigel is surprised.
Colin Hunt: Nigel Wyndham...
Men in suits cuff Nigel.
Colin Hunt: You're under arrest for international arms trafficking and for abetting in the murder of a British citizen.
The suits take Nigel away.
Near the bullpen.
Colin Hunt: Her had would've been proud. How brave she was, taking on these men. But I so wish she hadn't done it.
Beckett: So what happens now? Do you go back to D.C.?
Colin Hunt: London, I'm afraid. Face the music.
Beckett: You know, they should give you a commendation.
Colin Hunt: Well, that is wildly improbable.
Beckett smiles. Hunt zips his bag shut.
Colin Hunt: Well, Detective Beckett, it's been a true pleasure.
Beckett: The pleasure was all mine, Detective Inspector Hunt.
Colin Hunt: Please. Colin.
Beckett: Kate.
They regard each other for a moment.
Colin Hunt: You know, I have a few hours before my flight, Kate. Could I persuade you to let me buy you a drink?
Beckett: Um...
Beckett looks behind her at Castle on his cell in the hallway. Hunt notices.
Beckett: I'm sorry. I have a bit of paperwork to do.
Colin Hunt: Another time.
Hunt exits. Castle finishes his call and enters.
Castle: Where's Scotland Yard off to?
Beckett: Oh, he's going back to London. Um... Castle, do you have a second? Can we talk?
Castle: Actually, I don't. Jacinda has the Ferrari double parked in a loading zone.
Castle heads past Beckett.
Beckett: Wow. Four dates in three days. You like her.
Castle: Yeah. Why?
Castle waits for Beckett's answer.
Beckett: Uh, she just--she doesn't seem like your type.
Castle: Well, she's fun and uncomplicated. I think that's what my life needs right now.
Castle exits and Beckett shakes her head, frustrated at their emotional distance. She sits down at her desk and picks up her cell. She considers and then makes a call.
Beckett: Hi. It's, uh, it's Kate. Do you still want to buy me that drink?
