366. Chapter 366

After The Blue Butterfly

Episode 4.14

By

UCSbdad

Disclaimer: Listen, bub. I ain't got no Castle, see? Rating: K Time: See above.

To be a PI in the Big Apple you have to have smarts, moxie and the ability to mix it up with the big boys. Oh, and a good right cross comes in handy now and again as well. Luckily, I had them all, in spades.

I had made it back to my office after settling a case that brought me a roll of moola that could have choked a horse. I rewarded myself with a quick shot of my old friend, Jim Beam. I put my bare feet up on my desk, wiggling my toes, figuring that no one would notice or care. One thing though, being a PI in this town and having to wear four inch heels does make the old dogs bark after a hard day.

Suddenly, I wasn't alone. He knocked politely on the door. I hadn't heard the door to the outer office open, but there he was, filling out a Palm Beach suit like it had been made for him, which I found out later it had been. I let him take a quick look at my gams before I put my feet back on the floor.

"What can I do for you, pal?" One look at those baby blues of his had me thinking of all the things we could do together. But I was a pro. I needed to act like one.

"My name is Richard Castle."

My heart skipped a beat and a shiver ran down my spine. Richard Castle? My all time favorite author? The photos on the back of his books didn't do him justice. He was gorgeous. But I stayed calm, cool and collected. "What can I do for you, Mr. Castle? And please, do sit down."

He sat and then grinned at me. "A friend gave me a bird."

I shrugged. An insulting gesture was not my usual type of case, but for him I'd make an exception. "Some friend, if he gave you the bird."

"I'm sorry, Miss…?"

"Beckett. Katherine Beckett, private eye, like it says on the door."

"Sorry. But this friend asked me to keep a bird for him."

"Did it escape?"

"It's not that kind of bird. It's the Sicilian Eagle. A fabulous golden bird, covered in gems. In the early tenth century AD a group of Norman knights planned on invading Sicily and chasing the Arabs out. They asked the Byzantine Emperor for help and sent the Eagle along to sweeten the deal. The emperor kept the bird and sent an army. The bird stayed in Constantinople until 1453 when the Turks took the place, then it belonged to the Ottoman Sultan. It disappeared sometime after 1731."

I nodded, wondering if all of this guff was necessary. Then again, Castle was easy on the eyes and his voice was easy on my ears. He went on. "A renegade Irishman named O'Rourke, deserted from the British Army during the Napoleonic wars, then deserted from the French. In about 1813, he gathered up some other renegades, grabbed a bunch of weapons that were left over after one of Napoleon's battles and headed for Egypt where he hoped to set up a little private empire down the Nile. People say that the bones of O'Rourke and his men are at a lost oasis deep in the desert, all around a golden statue of an eagle. And some say there's nothing there at all."

I really loved his voice.

"Others say a Greek bandit called Michael the Unhygienic used the Eagle as a footrest, but no one wanted to get close enough to his feet to tell. But, in 1845, a man named Carstairs staggered out of the jungles of Bengal, dying of fever and raving about a tribe that worshipped a golden eagle. There's a school of thought that says that a French courtesan named Marie of Magnificent Derriere grabbed the Eagle from her criminal lover and hot footed it out of Paris one step ahead of the Germans in 1870. They also say that a platoon of the Legion Etranger grabbed Marie and offered her a choice between losing her money or her honor. Naturally, she chose to give up whatever honor she had left. But they took both. No one's seen the Eagle since, but you could go into any bar from Dar es Salaam to Singapore and someone would have a tale about where the Eagle was."

"And this involves you in what way, Mr. Castle?"

"A friend of mine found the Eagle and sent it to me for safekeeping. He sent it to me in a sealed box. Said he'd be by to pick it up. He's due in three days and when I got up this morning, the box had been broken open and it was empty."

"What's this friend's name and where is he now?"

"Samuel Diamond. He just got into San Francisco on the SS Lavinia from Shanghai. He's an international banker, trying to get his bank's money out of Shanghai before it falls to the Reds. He's taking the train, so I don't know exactly where he is right now."

"I think we should go see a cop friend of mine." I didn't tell Castle, but there was something about this friend's story that didn't add up. In this biz you get a nose for the hinky and this smelled worse than a week old bowl of cannoli.

When we left my office, I started to go to my brand new Studebaker sedan, but Castle insisted we go in his chauffeured limo. What's a girl to do? I went with him.

My pal, Sergeant Javier Ryan was busy trying to teach his partner to be useful.

"What do you have Demming doing now?" I asked.

"I taught him to use the stapler." Ryan said proudly. "Look."

Demming carefully put two sheets of paper under the stapler and carefully pushed down. He was concentrating so hard that sweat was pouring down his face.

"Great." I said. "He just stapled his tie to the paper."

"Better than stapling his hand." Ryan was interrupted by a high pitched scream and grabbed a band aid to put on Demming's hand.

"My client here got a package from a Samuel Diamond. Supposed to be some sort of banker. You got anything on him?"

Castle cleared his throat. "Really, Miss Beckett. Sam is a well respected banker. Hardly someone who'd be known to the police."

"Is this your pal?" Ryan held up a mugshot. Both Castle and I recognized the mug.

"That's Samuel Diamond." He said, in shock.

I almost said something unladylike. "No. I know him. He was my boyfriend once. Calls himself Doctor Josh Davidson, but his specialty is removing people's cash." I smiled. "And I know just where to find this jamoke."

"But he's on the train from San Francisco."

I had to break the news to Castle. "No, he's been right here in New York. He sent you a package with something heavy but worthless in it. Then he broke into your house to steal it. When he shows up, he'll want to sue you for losing a valuable item. You'll be embarrassed and upset and you'll settle out of court. And off he'll go to the next sucker."

"You must think I'm awfully stupid, Miss Beckett."

I smiled. "Maybe, but you're also kind of cute." I winked at him just to make sure.

I knew that Davidson liked to hang out with a two bit ward heeler named Big Bill Bracken when he was in town. Ryan got us a warrant and a couple of uniforms and we raided the joint. We got very lucky. Both Bracken and Davidson were sitting in an apartment full of stolen goods, enough to send them up the river for a lot of years.

We got back to my office and Castle pulled out his wallet to pay me for my time. I really hated to see him go, but what could I do? Why would a high society guy like him hang around with some gumshoe?

"You know, Miss Beckett, I've been thinking. I did a lot of research on the Sicilian Eagle and I have a few ideas about where it is, but I'd really like the help of a good investigator."

"Do you have anyone in mind?" I asked with a smile.

"You, of course. Why don't we discuss this over dinner?" He offered me his arm.

I thought for just a split second, then took the arm. "You know, Castle, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

We walked out of my office building and into the fog rolling in off the East River. Oddly enough, a band was playing La Marseilles somewhere.

And it did turn out to be a beautiful friendship and then a beautiful marriage.