221. Chapter 221

After The Blue Butterfly, Again

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: You're good. You're very, very good. But you don't own Castle any more than I do. Rating: K Time: See above

"Castle! We need to send the records off to the DA. You can't keep them forever."

Castle guiltily put the last of the records on the Stan Banks murder back in the evidence box. "No problem, Beckett. See? I put everything back."

Beckett shook her head, but smiled at her partner. "You really enjoyed looking into that old case, didn't you?"

Castle grinned at her. "And you didn't?"

"I enjoy putting killers behind bars." And I like to wonder what it would have been like to be in love with a hard boiled PI who just happened to look and act like Castle. I know he was imagining us as Joe and Vera. How much longer am I going to have to imagine what it's like to love each other? "Are you planning on doing a Nikki Heat book set in the late forties? What would it be? A tough dame as a private eye and her pal the reporter?"

Castle shook his head. "No. I think Nikki and Rook will stay in the present day. But, you never know. I just might write something Raymond Chandleresque."

"Just as long as there's no gangster's moll who looks like me, okay?"

Castle assumed an air of injured innocence. "Why Detective Beckett. I would never do such a thing. The very idea!"

Kate glared at him ever so slightly, then checked her watch. "About time to call it a night, Castle. Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow."

However, later that night, Caste found himself knocking at a familiar door.

"Yes?" Vera Mulqueen, now Viola Maddox, said. "Oh, hello, Mr. Castle. Come on in. We've been expecting you."

Castle sat in the Maddox's living room across from the old PI and the ex-gangster's moll. "We checked the Blue Butterfly that Frankie stole from where you left it in the wall. It was a fake."

"A fake!" Joe said, then laughed. "Well, the joke really would have been on us if we'd tried to run away and finance our trip with the diamonds. A fake! After all those years."

Vera just shook her head.

"Vera, I imagine that Tom Dempsey wasn't the most trusting soul in New York, right?"

Vera laughed. "Oh, not at all, Mr. Castle. That's why he always had two goons keeping an eye on me and the necklace. They'd keep an eye on each other, me, and the necklace. Why do you ask?"

"I can't see Dempsey buying, or otherwise acquiring, a million dollar necklace without checking it out. I figure that he bought the real thing and then it got switched. Do you know how he got it?"

Vera stared at the ceiling for a minute, gathering her thoughts. "Yes. He bought it in late 1945 from a returning GI. An Irish fellow. What was his name?" She frowned in concentration. "Oh! His first name was Johnny and I remember he knew Betsy Sinclair really well."

"And she's dead." Castle said somberly.

"We met her grand-daughter at the funeral." Joe said. "She was really interested in her grand-mother. We have her phone number and address. Would you like it?"

….

Two days later Castle met Barbara Camberly at her Manhattan apartment. "Excuse the mess. Mr. Castle," the tall slender woman said. "I'm having the place remodeled. You wanted to talk about Grandma Betsy?"

"Yes. I've become interested in the old Blue Butterfly case. It was in the papers recently."

"Dear! Did Granny have something to do with that? She always was sort of the black sheep of the family. Her father was a minister as were her three brothers. None of them approved of her career choice. I suppose that's why I'm so interested in her life now."

"Ms. Camberly, the Blue Butterfly was bought by the owner of the Pennybaker Club, where Betsy Sinclair used to sing. He was a mobster named Tom Dempsey and I've been told that Dempsey bought the necklace from a man named Johnny with an Irish surname who knew your grand-mother well. Do you know who that might be?"

Ms. Camberly thought for a second, then stood up and got an old photo album. "This was my grandmother's. It had all of her old newspaper reviews and publicity photos. Let me see….Here it is. A photo of the Five Red Hots, taken in 1949. The trumpet player next to granny is named Johnny O'Hara. Is that a help?"

…..

"Thanks for seeing me, Mr. O'Hara." Castle said to the old man.

"Always glad for company, sonny. Don't see many of the old crowd any more. All gone now. And the music today! How can anyone listen to it, I ask you?"

Castle politely listened to the old man until he ran out of breath and stopped talking.

"Mr. O'Hara…"

"Call me Johnny, everyone does."

"I understand you sold Tom Dempsey a diamond necklace back in 1945 or so?"

O'Hara looked at him suspiciously "You a cop?"

"I'm a writer. I'm interested in the story of the Blue Butterfly. Did you sell it to Dempsey?"

O'Hara sighed. "That I did. Brought it back from Europe after WWII. I was a musician. I got into trouble with the law." He laughed. "I was smoking marijuana, if you can believe that. It was a big deal back then, not like now. Anyway, I needed money to get out of town real quick and Dempsey had cash money."

"Did Dempsey have the necklace appraised?"

"Are you kidding me? Of course he had it appraised. He dragged me down to the jewelers to have it checked out."

"Do you remember the name of the jeweler?"

"Sure. Morris Goldman. His shop was on East 47th. Family still owns it, I think."

….

"Sure, Mr. Castle," Ed Goldman said, "Granddad used to love to tell that story. All about how this SS officer's girlfriend grabbed the necklace as the Third Reich fell apart and sold it to some GI for a pittance. The GI and his pal brought it in to be appraised."

"So the necklace was real?"

"Of course. Perfect blue diamonds. Worth over a million in today's market."

"The man who eventually bought the necklace was a gangster named Tom Dempsey. He didn't trust anyone. I think he hid the real necklace away and had a fake made. Do you know anything about that?"

"Sure. I can show you a picture of the real necklace and the costume jewelry copy granddad made. It's in our files somewhere."

…...

Castle found himself back in the Pennybaker Club. "If I were a ruthless gangster, where would I hide a valuable necklace?" Castle did his best to think like a gangster, but came up with nothing. "Maybe if I thought like a ruggedly handsome best-selling author?" But, still nothing.

Someone else walked in through the door. "Hey! Out of here! This is my squat."

Castle smiled at the newcomer. "Westside! It's me, Rick Castle. From the 12th Precinct?"

"Out!" Westside Wally screamed and let fly with an empty wine bottle. Castle ducked and heard the crash of broken glass behind him. He turned. The mirror behind the bar had broken. And there was something behind the mirror.

….

Castle reached over Kate Beckett's shoulder and put down her cup of coffee. "One grande latte, two pumps, sugar free vanilla."

"Thanks, Castle." She started to turn to her partner.

"No. Don't move." He said quickly. "Close your eyes and don't open them until I tell you to."

Beckett could feel something going around her neck. Then something heavy dropped on her chest.

"Open your eyes now."

She looked down. "Castle! That's the Blue Butterfly! Is it the real one?"

"Yup! I had it appraised on the way over here. I found it behind the mirror at the Pennybaker club."

"What are you going to do with it?"

"I just did. I gave it to you as a token of my appreciation for you putting up with me."

"Castle, that's sweet and…Castle! You don't own the Blue Butterfly."

"I won't tell if you don't tell." He said softly. But by this time, quite a crowd had gathered.

Kate took the necklace off. "This isn't yours to give. The courts will have to decide who it belongs to."

He shrugged. "I know, but I just wanted to see how it looked on you. You should be covered in diamonds, Kate."

"Thank you, Castle. But I feel more like Vera. It's not a necklace, it's a noose." She looked up and smiled at him. "Thanks." She said softly.

"Always."