533. Chapter 533

After The Wild Rover

Episode 5.18

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: I'm not wild any more, I don't rove much and I don't own Castle. Rating: K+ Time: See above and below.

Author's note: The last time I wrote an After The Wild Rover, chapter 395, I introduced policewoman Kate Beckett, one of the first policewomen in New York of the 1920s. She's back.

"Beckett? You and Castle come into my office, now." Sergeant Roy Montgomery, the head of the homicide squad, barked from his office.

Kate glanced quickly at her boyfriend…No, my fiancé. She thought giddily. Castle just smiled at her. Every time Roy or anyone else in authority called them in, she worried. Although Castle shadowed her with the blessings of New York mayor Jimmy "Beau James" Walker, she was afraid that their unorthodox partnership would eventually be terminated by the NYPD.

"Yes, sir?" She said as soon as she got into Montgomery's office.

"Close the door."

She did so and she and Castle sat down in the tiny office.

"What do you know about Staten island?"

Kate shrugged. "It's been one of the five boroughs for twenty five years or so, but I've hardly been there. The last time I went was when I was twelve."

"And you, Castle?"

"Staten Island? I stay in Manhattan. Occasionally I'll wander into the wilds of the Bronx to see a Yankee's game and I've even ventured into darkest Brooklyn, but Staten Island? Never."

Montgomery nodded. "Good. There's a new mob forming up on Staten Island. Led by some Irishman called Sid O'Perlmutter."

"O'Perlmutter?" Castle asked. "That's hardly an Irish name."

"Maybe, but his people are all as Irish as Paddy's pig: Eric O'Vain and Colin McHunt are his right and left hand men. He's got a couple of girlfriends who help run the mob: Merry Ditzy and Gina McCowan. They're supposed to be a tough bunch."

"Why are you telling us this, Sergeant Montgomery? Staten Island isn't in the 12th's jurisdiction." Kate asked.

"Police headquarters wants someone to go over there and just look around. O'Perlmutter's headquarters are in a bar called To Hell With Cromwell. We figured that since hardly anyone sees a policewoman since there are so few of them, and because Castle looks nothing like a cop, we'd send you over to just look around. Nothing dangerous, just see what the lay of the land is."

"We'll do it, Roy." Castle said.

Once outside, Kate stopped Castle. "Don't you think I should have been the one to say we'd do it? I'm the police officer, after all."

"Sure. Do you want to go back in and tell Roy that we'll go?" He got an eye roll and a glare for that.

The next morning at Castle's loft, Kate dressed in her best clothes, a printed silk dress with silk stockings high heels and a cloche hat. After a bit, she chose a pearl necklace to go with it. I never thought I'd ever have a real pearl necklace, but I know I love Rick for himself, not for his money.

Rick dressed in white flannel trousers, black patent leather shoes, a white shirt with a stiff celluloid collar and a regimental tie. He also wore a navy blue blazer with a straw boater worn rakishly on one side of his head.

"Ready to go, gorgeous?" He asked,

Kate blushed. "Rick! You shouldn't talk to me like that."

"Why not? You are gorgeous and we'll supposed to be a couple of wealthy Manhattanites slumming on Staten Island." He reached around her and pinched her bottom.

"Rick!" She backed away from him. He just laughed.

They drove to the Staten Island ferry in his new Jordan Sport model, with the submarine grey body paint, a khaki top and orange wheels. Once the ferry deposited them on Staten Island, they drove to the To Hell With Cromwell.

Outside, Castle thought the place looked like a dump. Inside, he remarked as to how nice the outside was by comparison. A frowsy looking blonde bartender glared at them as they walked in. The only person at the bar was a transient who was obviously sleeping off a bender. At his feet was an Irish wolfhound, also sound asleep.

Gathered around the table in the back were the people they'd been sent to observe. O'Perlmutter was dressed in a garish Kelly green suit with a tie covered in embroidered shamrocks. O'Vain and McHunt wore the traditional mobsters' attire: Pinstriped suits with spats, black shirts with white ties and a fedora pulled down over their eyes. Both Castle and Beckett noticed the bulges under their left armpits.

The blonde barmaid wandered over to them. "What do you want?" She asked in a surly manner.

"We're just getting the lay of the land." Castle said.

The blonde, who must have been Gina McCowan, nodded and turned to the table in the back. "Hey, Merry! You have customers."

The redhead stood up and walked over. Castle couldn't help but notice that she was quite bowlegged.

"Oh, sorry, Miss." He said, smiling. "Just a figure of speech. We are not in need of your services."

Castle turned back to the barmaid. "The lady will have a white wine, French, of course, of whatever vintage and vineyard your sommelier advises. For me, I think a side car, with Courvoisier cognac, of course. And may we see you luncheon menu?"

The blonde stared at him for a long time. Finally she spoke. "Two bathtub gins coming right up. It's the good stuff. It was made last night. And I'm afraid that our chef won't get here from his day job at the Ritz until this evening." She ended sarcastically.

Beckett kicked Castle under the table. "Castle what are you doing?"

"I'm behaving like a rich, spoiled lout. I actually have some extensive experience at that. Although you wouldn't know because I've changed so much since I've met you."

"Castle, that's so sweet."

'They were interrupted by one of O'Perlmutters gunsels. "Da boss wants ta see youse."

"Who is the boss and who are you?" Castle asked.

"Da boss is Sid O'Perlmutter. I'm Colin McHunt."

"I assume the H is silent?" Castle said.

McHunt just stared at him. "Da boss wants ta see youse." He wasn't much of a conversationalist Castle decided.

They sat down with O'Perlmutter, who smiled at them with a breath redolent of cheap gin. "So, a couple of rich bozos come to my place. Tell you what. I could use a couple of smart cookies to get me some of that good hooch that they serve in the best speakeasies over in Manhattan."

"You mean like the Old Haunt?" Castle asked.

"Exactly!" O'Perlmutter said. "If I had a couple of swells like you two fronting me, we could go places. What about it?"

Castle shook his head. "Booze back in Manhattan is run by Frankie Yale who's connected with the Chicago Outfit and that means Al Capone. I know that no one crosses Yale. Do you want to meet Willie "Two Knife" Altierri? Or any one of Yale's hit men? We don't."

O'Perlmutter gave Castle a disgusted look. "Chicken, are you?"

Before Castle could reply, the drunk who had been sleeping at the bar jumped up and pulled a gun. "Special Agent Sorenson, Prohibition Enforcement Agent! You're all under arrest for bootlegging."

No sooner had Sorenson made his announcement than McCowan hit him over the head with bottle, knocking him out. He fell to the floor.

O'Vain and McHunt drew their gats and covered Castle and Beckett. "What do we do, boss?"

O'Perlmutter thought it over. "We'll have to get rid of them all. Take 'em for a ride."

"Good." Said O'Vain. "I always liked the Central Park merry-go-round. Can we go there?"

Merry Ditzy, afraid her place was being taken my some newcomer objected at once and got into an argument with O'Vain.

But help was at hand. "Nobody move." Cried the Irish wolfhound, standing on his hind legs and pulling a pistol from his fur. "Agent Sparky at your service." When McCowan moved towards him, he hit her across the nose with a rolled up newspaper. She collapsed.

Beckett quickly identified herself as a police officer as other police swarmed into the bar to haul the O'Permutter mob off to jail.

"One thing, Agent Sparky. "Castle asked. "What kind of a gun is that?"

"A dogmatic." Sparky replied with a sneer.

Once back at Castle's loft, Kate put her arms around Rick and held him tightly. "Talk about your deus ex machina.

"I think it was more a case of dog ex machina." Castle quipped.

Kate rolled her eyes emphatically. "Just for that, I'm afraid I'm going to have to give your mouth something else to do."