678. Chapter 678

After Cloudy with a Chance of Murder

Episode 5.02

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: This just in: UCSBdad does not own Castle. Film at eleven. Rating: K Time: See above.

Detective Inspector Kate Beckett of Scotland Yard was just getting up from her desk when her husband, Sir Richard Castle walked in. "Ready for lunch, love?" He asked with a smile.

"I'm sorry, Rick, but I've just gotten a call from Sir Michael Buff-Boots. He wants to see me at once."

Rick frowned. "But he's the head of Special Branch. They deal with threats to national security, not routine police work. Why would he want to talk to you?" He smiled at her. "Have you been doing some secret work? Chasing down Irish Republicans? Bolsheviks? American bootleggers?"

She tried to glare at him, but failed, smiling instead. "I've been doing nothing but paper work since our last murder together. I have no idea why he wants to see me, but I do know you do not keep Sir Michael waiting."

She rushed past him, but he followed right along with her. "Perhaps he just wants some bit of information from you, then we can go to lunch after all. And, perhaps I can soak up some atmosphere for my next book." Little to known but to a select few, Sir Richard Castle, scion of an old and admittedly eccentric English family, wrote thrillers under the pen name of Richard Rodgers. His latest and most successful series of books featured a brilliant, and beautiful, Scotland Yard detective named Nicole Cold.

The two arrived at Sir Michael's office to find him chatting with his secretary, a Constable Ann Hastings. He smiled when he saw Beckett. "Ah, Beckett. And your husband, Sir Richard. Why don't you both come in." He gestured to his office. "You'll have tea, of course?"

While Sir Michael fussed with a tea pot to get Kate a cup, Sir Richard took the opportunity to examine the man. He was tall, fit and rather tan for an Englishman. Rick wondered if this indicated he'd been out somewhere in the colonies, doing…whatever the head of Special Branch did. His perfectly cut Saville Row suit was a bit more conservative than Rick's own, and his Brigade of Guards was extremely conservative. Rick tried to remember what little he knew about his military service. He'd first fought in the Boer War, with the Bushveldt Carbineers until that dreadful Morant business came up and then he'd been sent quickly off to India. He had disappeared into Central Asia in what Kipling had called the Great Game. During the Great War Sir Michael had been stationed in Cairo, doing what, no one quite knew, but it had made him a baronet.

"You may be curious as to why I asked your husband to sit in on this, Beckett. Primus, I'm a huge fan of his Nicole Cold books and, of course, you are the very model of Nicole."

Both Rick and Kate were shocked. "But how did you know…?" Kate began.

Sir Michael laughed gently. "I am the head of Special Branch, after all. Don't you think I might be able to solve the occasional mystery? Secundus, I think having your husband along would be a great help in your next case."

"What is my next case?" Kate asked.

"The murder of Sir Oswald Tynkle-Puhp."

"I'm afraid I don't know who he is, sir."

"He was the head of the meteorological department of the British Broadcasting Company. As we have a word spanning Empire, it's important that we have excellent and up to date weather reports for all parts of the globe."

"How do weather reports involve Special Branch?" Rick asked. "If you don't mind me asking, that is."

"Sir Oswald had a hobby of sorts. Something he called radio detection and ranging. The idea was to use radio waves to locate objects in bad weather or night. Just send a radio wave out, it hits something and comes back to the receiver. Measure the time that it took and you know where a ship or an airplane might be."

"That could be quite useful should there be another war." Rick said, looking serious.

"I should hope that there won't be another war." Kate spoke up. "It's only been eight years since the World War ended."

Sir Michael nodded. "But we need to consider the possibility."

"Why am I investigating this with Rick?"

"The murder seems an open and shut case. Sir Oswald employed a footman by the name of Ivan Schlemming. A foreigner as you can tell by the name. A former Imperial Russian Army officer run out of the country by the Reds and just making ends meet in the UK. Sir Oswald came back unexpectedly and found Schlemming beastly drunk on vodka and taking liberties with the maid. He fired Schlemming on the spot. The beastly fellow shot Sir Oswald to death then and there."

"Were there other witnesses besides the maid?" Kate asked.

"Yes. Lady Tynkle-Puhp and their driver saw the whole thing. It looks simple enough, but I'd like you to poke around and see if you can find anything. Taking our husband with you will make it look like your enquiries are just routine and that no one even thinks there could be more involved. "

They decided to start at Sir Oswald's home in Belgravia. Kate quickly gathered the witnesses to the murder in the drawing room. She sat facing the three while looking through her calf bound notebook. There was nothing pertinent to the case in the notebook, but Kate had always found that making the suspects wait made them nervous and nervous people often said things they shouldn't. "You were all present at the unfortunate death of Sir Oswald?" She began.

Lady Serena nodded. "Yes. We had just come back from the theater when we heard an...unusual sound coming from here in the drawing room."

"An unusual sound? Could you be more specific?"

Lady Serena blushed. "It was the sound that two people make when….procreating."

Kate turned to the maid. "You were with Mr. Schlemming?"

Gina, the maid, nodded. "Yes." She said, her voice barely audible.

"And you were engaged in coitus with him?"

"Oh, no, ma'am. We was fucking."

Rick smothered a laugh, Kate merely made a note of what she had been told, and Lady Serena merely looked uncomfortable.

"Tell me what happened next?"

"The three of them came home and Sir Oswald fired poor Igor on the spot. Igor stood up and took a step towards Sir Oswald and fell flat on his face, cos his pants was around his ankles. He pulled them up and took a step and he reached for Sir Oswald and his pants fell down and he fell flat on his face again. He tried to take his pants off and he was hopping on one leg trying to get one leg off and he fell again. Then he tried to pull the other pants leg off, and fell again. Finally, he stood, holding his pants up with one hand and pulled out his revolver and shot poor Sir Oswald."

Kate turned to Lady Serena. "Is that what you remember?"

She nodded. "Yes it is. Exactly."

She turned to the chauffer. "You are…?

"Eric O'Vaughn, ma'am. "

"And does Miss Gina's account square with what you remember?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'm curious Mr. O'Vaughn. It would seem natural for you to have dropped Sir Michael and Lady Serena at the front door and then taken the motor car to the garage? And then come back through the servant's entrance?"

"Sir Oswald was quite liberal, ma'am." O'Vaughn said stone faced.

"A pillar of the Conservative Club mixing with the Irish working class?" Rick said, smiling.

"And I note that while you have on an inexpensive frock, Gina, you have expensive silk stocking on. And your perfume is Chanel Number Five. Quite expensive for a maid, I'd think."

"I allow my maid certain perks." Lady Serena said quickly. Too quickly.

"I'm sure you do." Rick said, smiling. "I congratulate you on your command of the English language, Lady Serena and Gina. However, I am an expert in linguistics and I detect that you're native language used an umlaut, and was therefore German. But Lady Serena's residual accent indicates she was born and raised on a Silesian pig farm, while our so called maid here has an upper class Berliner background. Mr. O'Vaughn is from Connaught, of course. I detect a military rhythm in his speech. You served in the Connaught Rangers, I'm bound."

O'Vaughn smiled and drew a Luger pistol from underneath his coat. "The Devil's Own, indeed."

"We must leave at once." Gina said, now taking full command." Once we dispose of these two."

"God save the Czar." Roared a voice. There stood Igor Schlemming, a Colt automatic pistol in each hand. "Throw down your weapons!"

O'Vaughn turned and fired. He missed. Schlemming began returning fire. Both men missed. They fired at each other, replacing ammunition clips as they were used until they had no bullets left. Schlemming threw his pistol at O'Vaughn and missed. O'Vaughn threw his Luger and missed. Schlemming threw his other pistol and missed. Then both men closed on each other and began throwing punches. Alas, they missed.

Getting bored, Kate blew her police whistle and the house was overrun with police led by Constable Kevin Ryan. The three miscreants were led off to jail.

"How did you know you were safe with all the gunfire, Lady Katherine?" Ryan asked.

"Sir Michael knew Schlemming from the war. He had remained a second lieutenant in the Russian army for twelve years because he could neither read a map nor pass a marksmanship test. Sir Michael knew Schlemming couldn't have killed Sir Oswald. The killers, not knowing this, got Schlemming so drunk he was practically unconscious, put a gun in his hand and shot poor Sir Oswald. I believe these are freelance spies, who had stolen Sir Oswald's work on radio detection and ranging. They hoped to sell it to the highest bidder."

"But what about O'Vaughn?" Ryan asked. "He could have killed you."

Rick laughed. "I recognized him from my time in the army. He was a terrible shot. Allegedly his mother was frightened by the starter's pistol at the Galway races while pregnant with O'Vaughn and it scarred him for life. I suspect the maid did the actual shooting of Sir Oswald."

Once back at their home in Stately Castle Manor the couple prepared for bed. "But what is to happen to poor Schlemming?" Rick asked.

"Sir Michael has offered him a position as a door stopper in his office. He can probably handle it." Kate smiled at the love of her life. "And now I'd like to offer you a position. Reverse cowgirl?"