79. Say what you gotta say

Castle is well satisfied with an appointment with Dr Burke at three today. It’s rather earlier than he had expected.  He is a little bemused by Dr Burke, however.  Even on the phone his fussy, slightly pompous formality had come through, and Castle finds it very difficult to see how that meshes well with brisk, badass Beckett, for whom brusqueness is natural.  Still, Dr Burke obviously has a great deal of intelligence and has, in a pretty short time, acquired a good deal of insight into Beckett.  Castle resolves not to underestimate him.  Dr Burke is very unlikely to be a fool, or indeed to be fooled.  He makes himself a nice lunch and writes quite steadily until it’s time to go. 

Dr Burke, unusually, is not entirely certain of the path he wishes to follow. He is not convinced that starting with inquiring into why Detective Beckett wishes him to talk to Mr Castle is appropriate, although he would very much appreciate some explanation.  This is all highly irregular, as is practically everything to do with Detective Beckett’s therapy.  It is quite disconcerting.  However, he refuses to allow such minor difficulties as her inability to talk and the presence of celebrities to prevent him treating her effectively.  If talking to Mr Castle will assist, then talk to Mr Castle he will, as often as required.

Mr Castle is on time.  Dr Burke is relieved.  Casual rudeness is one of his bêtes noires. 

“Good afternoon,” he says formally.

“Hey,” Mr Castle responds.

Castle looks at Dr Burke, and his consulting room, with considerable and not at all concealed interest. Beckett’s shrink is a man of around Castle’s own height, coffee-skinned and with sharp, intelligent eyes.  His expression is cool and calm.  The room is soothingly blue and designed to relax the mind; Dr Burke’s voice is even, cool and calming.  It’s all exactly how Castle would have written a psychiatrist, although he wouldn’t have included the formality or, necessarily, the reasonably impressive physique. 

His surroundings and demeanour are far too much like a psychiatrist ought to be, in fact.

Castle fixes Dr Burke with a much more speculative, sardonic gaze. He can’t imagine that Beckett would stick with a standard shrink for more than ten minutes.  Clearly Dr Burke has much more to him than is apparent at first glance.  Dr Burke meets his gaze and raises it by a few degrees.  Ah.  Whether Beckett knew it or not, (Castle strongly suspects not, because he also strongly suspects that Dr Burke is as clever as Beckett and furthermore that Beckett didn’t want a shrink who might well be as clever as she) Dr Burke falls foursquare into the category of big/tough.  Mentally tough.

“Mr Castle,” Dr Burke says, taking a deep blue armchair and gesturing Castle to do the same, “please explain your involvement in this situation, from the beginning of your acquaintance with Detective Beckett.”

“She arrested me,” Castle says happily. “Of course I’d been arrested before” – he looks sheepish – “for – er – youthful misdemeanours” – Dr Burke raises his eyebrows, but declines to ask further – “but not by someone like that.  She was inspiring.  She hauled me into the Twelfth Precinct, interrogated me, and then decided it wasn’t me after all.”  He takes a breath.  “Anyway.  I needed a new character and she was it.  So I got myself into the Twelfth to shadow her, about September.”

So far, so congruent with Detective Beckett’s story. Mr Castle has paused.  Some encouragement is required.  “You appear to me to be in a romantic relationship with Detective Beckett.  How did this eventuate?”

Castle wriggles. “Um…”  Dr Burke pins him in his chair with a focused look.  “Around about mid-November, I finally convinced her to come out for a drink.  Then I found out it was her birthday.  And she wasn’t doing anything at all.  No cake, no celebration, no nothing.  It didn’t seem right.”

Dr Burke adds this piece of information to his general impression of Detective Beckett’s life, arriving at the conclusion that she had entirely opted out of anything that might normally have been an opportunity for celebration.

“Anyway. We – er – got together.”  Mr Castle sits back in the chair and stops.  Dr Burke deduces that a considerable volume of explanation has been omitted.

“Mm. I see.  And how did you find out about her father’s alcoholism?”  How odd.  Mr Castle has quite definitely winced.  “In detail, please.  I cannot help Detective Beckett effectively if I do not understand the whole story.”  Ah.  The suggestion that this is necessary to Detective Beckett’s welfare has produced a reaction.  That is clearly the driving force behind Mr Castle’s presence.

“She was a bit weird about Christmas. No tree, no celebration, no joy.  I – er – interrupted her talking to Julia Berowitz.”  Dr Burke, unlike Mr Castle, conceals his reaction.  That cannot have gone well.  “And then she was weird about Alexis, and wouldn’t come to my place, and Alexis didn’t notice anything but I did.  We argued about it.  So I did some research and found out about her mother.  And then her dad rang her about going to Miami and I… I thought she was just brushing him off.  She wasn’t.  I worked out it was her dad who was the alcoholic and we – er – had another argument, and right in the middle of it he walked in.”

Dr Burke cannot conceal his reaction. “That must have been a difficult moment?” is all he says, however.

“You bet. It – er – wasn’t exactly my finest hour.” Dr Burke makes a small note, in order to return to this topic.  Detective Beckett’s reactions might be extremely interesting.  “He… he made it pretty clear that Beckett supported him all the time, all the way.  Said she saved him.  I didn’t exactly feel good after that.  I went to apologise” – Dr Burke considers Detective Beckett and then concludes that Mr Castle is both very brave and very stupid – “and she told me that she couldn’t deal with my family.  My daughter.  So I left.  I wasn’t going to carry on seeing someone who can’t cope with my family.”

“Your family is important to you.”

“Yes. Very.  Mother brought me up on her own, Alexis’s mother left.”

Dr Burke sees why Detective Beckett wishes to be able to cope with Mr Castle’s family. Part of her reasoning is undoubtedly concerned with her own relationship with her father.  Until now, however, it had not been entirely clear that Mr Castle and his family come as a unit.  If she cannot deal with Mr Castle’s daughter, her relationship with Mr Castle will fail.

“Anyway. She meant it to push me away.  It didn’t work.  I wanted to go round and talk to her about it but Julia Berowitz rang Beckett to find her husband.  So we picked him up from Central Park Precinct and then Beckett and I had another argument because I told her she needed to talk about it and she told me to get out or she’d put me in jail.”

“Did you?” Another evasion of a very important nexus.  Another note is made.

“Yes. But then I went round later because I thought she really needed help and she was totally wasted.  It meant she actually talked.  About everyone leaning on her and there was no-one for her to lean on.  She said she wanted to disappear, which was pretty worrying.  She was crying because she didn’t take her dad’s calls, back when.”

That is interesting. Dr Burke would not have expected Detective Beckett to drink to excess.  On the other hand, he is far more interested in her desire to disappear and the fact that very recently she was still exhibiting substantial guilt and unhappiness over leaving her father to solve his alcoholism himself.  Much of his earlier thinking is confirmed.  Detective Beckett has failed to deal with her feelings at any previous time.  He further considers that Detective Beckett’s emotions around her father are unlikely to have been converted into disinterest following the events of three weeks ago.  She is merely repressing them, once more.

“We managed to straighten things out.” Another evasion of the details of a discussion which ought to have been extremely difficult.  Mr Castle is clearly not simply the happy-go-lucky playboy which Dr Burke had uncovered by means of a swift internet search.  Detective Beckett is not precisely easy to persuade or manipulate.  Not that Dr Burke would recommend the latter course.  Still, it appears that Mr Castle has persuaded her to accept him as a romantic partner.  Slightly frivolously, Dr Burke wonders whether he had hypnotised her.  However, this is entirely irrelevant.  Dr Burke is certainly not practising in the field of relationship counselling and is only interested in Mr Castle as he can provide information pertaining to Detective Beckett’s relationships with her father, Julia Berowitz, and potentially with Mr Castle’s family.

“Mr Castle, please describe your impressions of Julia Berowitz.”

“Thirties, blonde, quite pretty. She was tense.  She wouldn’t listen to Beckett.  Beckett tried to tell her that she needed help, and that she – Julia – couldn’t save her husband.  Beckett was quite forceful about it, but Julia had that sort of stubbornness that weak people sometimes have: where they make a stand on exactly the wrong point.  Anyway, she called Beckett again, but her husband was already in lock-up so Beckett wouldn’t go.  She told me about it.  Said Julia cried, like her dad used to cry.  So I suggested that maybe her dad should talk to Julia.  Julia might listen to him.  We all agreed it was a good plan, so we all went along.” 

Detective Beckett had, Dr Burke recalls, rather evaded any discussion of this particular event. Mr Castle has also avoided a substantial proportion of the detail.

“Julia was pretty stressed out. Her husband had gone walkabout – he was supposed to be there – and she had been cleaning.  When she was making us coffee I noticed her nail polish was chipped, and she wasn’t the sort of woman to have chipped nails.  It all smelt a little of cleaner: lemony.”

Detective Beckett must also have noticed that aroma, and the small signs. It would, Dr Burke deduces, have increased her discomfort from the point at which she entered the Berowitz apartment.  Of course, Detective Beckett might not have realised the full effect of the situation in which she had placed herself.

“So Jim” – Dr Burke raises eyebrows in query – “Jim Beckett. Beckett’s father.”  Mr Castle refers to him as Jim?  That argues that they have more than minimal acquaintance.  Another complication.  Really, he should have allowed far longer for this discussion.  Unlike Detective Beckett, Mr Castle appears to be prepared to talk, and, if correctly prompted, is likely to expand in detail on areas which Dr Burke considers important.  For now, however, Dr Burke requires the broad outlines of the whole story.

“Jim introduced himself as an alcoholic. He told his story.  Beckett wasn’t doing so well with it – though Julia wouldn’t have noticed – actually, I didn’t really think about it then, but that was weird too.  She should have heard it all before, but it was as if she hadn’t.  Or as if it hadn’t sunk in, the previous times.  Then Jim suggested that Julia must have gone to pick her husband up from the tank, and Julia said that Beckett had got him for her.  Jim wasn’t that happy with that, and Beckett was so wired I could have lit a lamp from her.  And then Jim said that he only got dry because he wanted his daughter – Beckett – more than drink; and then Julia tried to say that her husband’s drinking was just a blip, and then Beckett lost it and told her that she couldn’t save him.  And then she walked out.”

That rendition was certainly far more informative than Detective Beckett’s version. However, it is still materially incomplete.

“You said that Detective Beckett lost it.  Do you mean that Detective Beckett lost her temper?”

“Not exactly. Not like she did” – Mr Castle stops.

“Mm?”

“Not like she did with Lanie. Dr Parrish, the ME.  They’re friends.  Were.  Are.  It’s a bit fragile but I think they’re fixed.”

Ah. Another point for later.  Dr Burke allows that to pass, for now, merely making another small note.  He observes, this time, that Mr Castle has noted his action.

“In what way did Detective Beckett lose her temper, then?”

“She told Julia some pretty harsh truth. It’s the angriest I’d seen her, up till then.  Well, no, that’s not true.  When we argued she was probably much angrier, but she was cold about it.  This time she was more emotional.  I thought she might cry, but Beckett doesn’t do that much.”

Or indeed at all, thinks Dr Burke rather cynically.

“Julia started to cry, and Jim was absolutely shocked that Beckett had gone, and I couldn’t leave Jim. I think it might have been the first time he’d seen Beckett upset since he got dry.  Every other time I’d seen them together or she’d been talking to him she was really upbeat, whether it was true or not.  This time she – well, like I said, I thought she was about to cry.”

“But you did not follow her?”

Mr Castle bridles. “I didn’t have a good choice,” he snaps.  “If I went after Beckett then I was leaving Jim, who was already pretty upset, and God knows what he’d have done.  When we did finally get out of there he went straight to his sponsor.  I could see him cracking.  I couldn’t let him fall.  Beckett would never have recovered.  She’d have blamed herself even more and never come out of the guilt. She’s carrying far too much guilt as it is.  More would have killed her.  I wanted to go after her, but I couldn’t leave Jim, and by the time I got him to his sponsor and got round to Beckett’s apartment she wouldn’t answer the door and wouldn’t answer the phone.  She sent me one text to ask for space, and another asking about her dad.  When I asked if she was okay she didn’t answer.”

“Hm. Mr Castle” – Dr Burke steeples his fingers beneath his chin, and begins to utilise Detective Beckett’s permission to speak freely with Mr Castle – “if I were to inform you that Detective Beckett described that same evening as being one where she was tired, she informed you that she wished for a quiet evening, and that since you had told her that her father was” – Castle can hear the quotes – “fine, she was unworried and did not see you, what would you say?”

“Bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit,” Mr Castle ejects from behind his teeth.  He looks extremely annoyed.  “She wasn’t fine at all.  She was so not fine that she was ill the next morning and got sent home from the precinct; and she had a row with her father.”

At last, someone who will tell Dr Burke the unvarnished truth. Dr Burke sighs in considerable, and entirely unfeigned, relief.  Mr Castle’s annoyance has dissipated, to be replaced by a look of resignation, without any surprise.

“When did Beckett tell you that?” he asks.

“Just over three weeks ago.”

Enlightenment descends over Mr Castle’s features.

“Is the timing significant, Mr Castle?”

“Yeah. Beckett didn’t tell me, but Jim called me, absolutely broken up.  He’d told Beckett that seeing us for dinner – they came to dinner at my loft, though I still don’t know how Jim managed that because I’m sure I never actually invited him but somehow it was arranged” – Mr Castle stops, and appears to take time to reorder his thoughts, which are somewhat chaotically emerging – “anyway, Jim told Beckett that being at mine was just like being part of a family again.  And that happened Sunday three weeks ago, so I guess she saw you on Tuesday afterwards and it was all completely locked down and pointless, yeah?”

Dr Burke regards Mr Castle with a certain degree of admiration. It appears that Mr Castle might have a functioning brain, which is not something that Dr Burke has previously associated with the concept of celebrity thriller writers.

“Yes. Exactly so.”

“He couldn’t really have said anything worse. He really couldn’t.  But he doesn’t know why it went so wrong, because Beckett’s never actually told him what he was like, and now she isn’t taking his calls and he’s devastated.  If that were Alexis… I’m not sure I’d be sober, but he still is.”

Mr Castle pauses, and draws breath, slowly. “Beckett only came to therapy at all because her Captain benched her and she wanted not to upset her father by telling him that their relationship was all sorts of wrong because she hadn’t sorted herself out and didn’t think she’d forgiven him.  She didn’t want to come.  She felt she’d done it all before.  So she found you” – he blinks – “and I have to say you are exactly not what I’d expected” – Dr Burke blinks in his turn – “and just before the third session her dad pulled the rug from under her.  She was really upset after it.  And since then all she’s said is that she wants to carry on so she can do the job and – er – cope with my family.  She hadn’t mentioned her dad at all until yesterday.”

“Detective Beckett had not? And she has not spoken to him since?  She was, naturally and understandably, very upset.”

“She hasn’t spoken to him. He keeps calling her.”  Mr Castle looks mildly embarrassed.  “I’ve spoken to him.  He called me, a couple of times, and then I told him she’s okay.  I lied to him, flat out.  He needs to stay sober so I lied so he would.  It’s not ideal, but there didn’t seem to be any good choices at all.”

“Mm.” Dr Burke flicks a glance at his watch.  They are running out of time.  “Mr Castle, I have a patient at four.  I consider that it would be extremely valuable to continue this conversation.”  He brings up his schedule.  “Are you free at six?  If not, are you free tomorrow, between ten and eleven?  I have no patients at either time.”

“Whenever. I don’t really have a fixed schedule.  I can come back at six.”

“That would be helpful.” Dr Burke smiles at Mr Castle for the first time.  “I consider that your input will be most helpful in assisting Detective Beckett.”

“She wants me to talk to her dad, you know.”

“Really? Let us discuss that, too.”  Dr Burke’s smile turns almost mischievous.  “You have chosen a difficult path, Mr Castle.  Let us see if we can make it somewhat easier.”

Castle departs, considerably comforted by Dr Burke. Fussy and formal he may be, but Castle is completely convinced that he is the right shrink for Beckett.  He won’t let her get away with evasions, avoidance and downright lies.  He doesn’t want to go all the way back to the loft, so he finds a coffee bar, orders a small barrel of coffee and some cake, and then amuses himself in observing the people around him and concocting backstories for them.