684. Chapter 684

After Swan Song

Episode 5.07

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: Rock and roll is here to stay, but I don't own Castle. Rating: K Time: See above.

"Look, honkies. J. Crazy does not need two dumb honkies messing up her act. I got this. Can you dig that?"

"What we dig," Castle said, dressed in a blue velvet suit and a peach tea shirt and looking at the thin African-American woman through aviator shades, "is that the record company sent us down here to keep you recording, and not screwing around, like you have been. Of course, if you don't want to cooperate, we can leave. And then you'd be in violation of your contract and you could go back to playing and singing for tips at Lou's Rib Joint over in Spanish Harlem." Castle smiled. "Do you dig?"

J. Crazy sneered at him. "You gonna keep me from partyin'? You and your skinny assed bitch?"

"That's exactly what we'll do, Jeanette." Kate Beckett announced. Castle almost sighed as he looked at his gorgeous girlfriend. In contrast to Castle's 60's retro suit, Kate wore a dark blue power suit that fit her like a glove and one that exposed her long, trim legs as she sat in the recording studio.

"Who the hell you callin' Jeanette, bitch? I'm Jazeera. J. Crazy to the folks in the hood."

Kate laughed. "Your name is Jeanette Holland. Your parents are not an addict and a cleaning lady. Your father is an obstetrician and your mother an ophthalmologist. Your brother was not murdered by the police and your sister does not turn tricks. Your brother is pre-law at Yale and your sister owns her own software company. You went to a series of very expensive private schools before reinventing yourself as rapper J. Crazy, the toughest person to come out of the Bed-Stuy since Mike Tyson."

J. Crazy sat down hard. "How did you find that out?"

"Do you think the record company is stupid?" Kate snapped back. "How hard do you think is to surf the internet? Once they found no record of your "extensive police record" they hired a PI."

"Are you going to tell?"

Castle laughed. "What, and ruin a good story? J. Crazy sells records, Jeanette Holland couldn't get a job singing at Lou's Rib Joint. But, you screw your debut album up and the label drops you. And, just to make sure that one of our competitors doesn't try to sell you as J. Crazy, we'll tell everyone who you really are. Dig?"

"You have a deal, Mr. Rodgers." J. Crazy's glare wasn't nearly as intimidating as Kate's was, Castle decided.

J. was called back into the recording studio, leaving Rick and Kate alone in the office. Rick put his arm around her and hugged her. "Do you really think that bullet was meant for her?" He whispered.

"The bullet missed her by a couple of inches and killed a pizza delivery guy. Whoever shot him was in the studio. We found the gun here, but it was wiped clean. She must have been the target."

"And we get to baby sit her?" Castle said. "Wouldn't LT or someone else be better? Several someones?"

"What? J. Crazy accept a couple of uniforms? The tough chick who knifed a couple of gang bangers who tried to assault her when she was twelve? The woman who kneecapped a corrupt cop? That would be it for her street cred."

"Being dead won't help her street cred."

Kate shrugged. "She could join the 27 Club."

"She's 27?" Castle asked.

"Just like Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, Brian Jones, Kurt Cobain and lots of others."

There were five people, other than J. Crazy, in the studio the night the fatal shot had been fired. Regrettably, all of them, including J. had been pretty stoned so no one could tell exactly where everyone had been. Actually, they had no clue where each of them was.

Red Pettigill was the producer of the album. He had been around rock and roll since the 60's and somehow made it out of that decade alive. He had no motive to murder anyone.

Willy Brown was the lead guitarist of Black Abyss, the band that would be backing J. Crazy. His band had a solid reputation as professionals and had backed up dozens of singers over the last ten years. He had no known motive for murder.

Chrissie Johnson was a back up singer for J. Crazy. She actually was from a poor background, had been raised by a single mother and had brushes with the police. Five years ago when she was seventeen, she'd been shot at a club, smashing her hip, ending her solo career. She had been hired as much to advise J. Crazy on how to be bad as anything else. No motive, of course.

Charles Miller. Fortyish, white, married and a lawyer. He had been sent by Wormhole Records to go over some legal paperwork. He had insisted that the police report show that he had been drinking bourbon at the time of the shooting and not anything illegal. Although a country music fan, he had no motive to kill J. Crazy.

Steven Pearse. Also white, twenty two, student at Hudson University. A fan of African-American music who had managed to attach himself to J. Crazy as a go-fer. Was said to be her drug connection but narcotics had nothing on him, suggesting that he probably bought just for himself and occasional friends. No one could find a motive for murder.

Lastly was the victim. Mike Stearns, age twenty nine, and a slacker. According to his brother, all he had done since graduating from high school was do drugs and watch pornography on the internet. When his parents had cut him off financially, he got the pizza delivery job. Records check and interviews had found no ties to anyone of the suspects. Conclusion, he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The same five people were there that night as had been on the night of the murder, plus Rick and Kate, of course. The two walked into the recording studio. Red Pettigill was talking to Brown, telling a long involved story about a San Francisco group called the Charlatans and the Summer of Love.

"The Charlatans, man?" Brown asked. "Who the hell were they?"

"That was Dan Hick's first band, dude. Dan Hicks and his Hot Licks. Hell, I knew everyone in the City by the Bay in the Summer of Love. Signe Anderson, Ron McKernan, Barry Melton, George Frayne IV. Man, I knew everyone. Far freakin' out, man."

Brown just laughed.

Rick and Kate went over to sit by Chrissie Johnson who was looking like she was in pain. "You okay?" Kate asked.

"You don't have to worry about me. I won't let the damned record label down."

"I'm worried about you, not the damned record label."

"Then you're the first one."

"I've heard you sing." Castle said. "You're good. How come you're doing back up work in studios?"

Chrissie laughed bitterly and pointed to the walker by her side. "Maybe Tony Bennett could do a music video or a concert standing still, but no one else can. If I want to be a star, I gotta get up and shake my moneymaker and I can't do that. So I do this. Any more dumb assed questions, white boy?" She turned to Kate. "You musta got your boyfriend this job, 'cause he don't know nothin' about the music biz."

Kate managed to suppress a smile. "He has other uses."

Chrissie gave Castle a long, slow look. "I imagine he does." Then she got up and left.

The two went over to J. Crazy who was trying to ignore both Miller who was reading a contract revision to her and Steven Pearse who had written a song that J. Crazy apparently hated.

"Ms. Crazy, if I could draw your attention to the new paragraph on page seven concerning expenses?" Miller droned on.

"See, this is all about what's happening in Syria and Iraq and all over the world. It's neo-colonialism all over again." Pearse said brightly.

At that point a shot was fired and the lights went out.

"It's gotta be Chrissie. She's the only one not here." Castle yelled.

Beckett headed to where she thought the shot had come from, drawing her Glock and yelling, "NYPD. Chrissie. Put down your weapon."

Castle heard a shot and then a second shot. He was relieved to hear Beckett. "Someone turn the lights back on and call 911. I need back up and an ambulance."

The next morning the two sat in Gates' office. "You interrogated Ms. Johnson at the hospital, Detective Beckett?"

"Yes, sir. I didn't hit her when I fired. She fell down and injured the hip that was damaged. She told me that she had found out from a friend that Pettigill had been at the club the night she was shot. He was with some gangsta rappers and he was playing with a gun one of them had. He fired the shot that ended her career. By the way, the hospital says he's out of danger now."

"How did she avoid detection after the first shooting?" Gates asked.

"She's been on pretty heavy doses of pain meds since her shooting and has a pretty high tolerance by now. She wasn't as stoned as everyone else was. After the shooting, she hid her clothing and put on an identical dress. She also had gloves so no GSW residue was on her hands when she was tested. We recovered the clothing."

Gates looked over the report and nodded. "Very well."

Ryan and Esposito were waiting for Rick and Kate when they exited Gates' office. "Seen the morning papers?" Espo asked. He handed a copy to Kate.

"According to this, chased down the shooter and in spite of a hail of bullets fired at her, wrestled the shooter to the ground and disarmed her."

Castle smiled. "A hail of bullets. That could work as a book title."

Kate glared at him. "Zip it, Kitten."

Author's note: Okay rock fans, anyone recognize the people that Pettigill knew in the Summer of Love?