[Castle] Ch: 71 [Aftermath] (Patreon)

The hospital went into lockdown within minutes of the ambulance doors opening. Uniformed officers flooded the emergency entrance while hospital security pushed patients and staff away from the loading bay. The ambulance became a sealed crime scene before anyone moved the bodies. Price lay near the rear doors, while the three men involved in the transport were dead in different sections of the vehicle and cab. The blood-painted smile on the interior wall immediately changed the direction of the night.

The difference between the symbol in Room 814 and the one inside the ambulance became obvious once CSU documented it. This smile had been placed exactly where anyone opening the rear doors would see it before properly registering Price’s body. The outer curve had been drawn clockwise, the pressure pattern favored the right hand, and three fingers had been used. Everything wrong about the hotel imitation was correct here, and CBI comparison files removed the remaining doubt. The Weyland murder had been staged by a copycat, while the ambulance scene carried Red John’s genuine signature.

The note addressed Patrick Jane personally, mocked Price as an amateur, and made it clear that Red John had learned about Price’s arrest almost immediately. That bothered Kate more than the message itself. Price had been moved under police supervision, the hospital destination hadn’t been public, and officers were still processing the warehouse when the ambulance left. Whoever reached him had access to information that should’ve remained inside law enforcement channels.

Travis understood why, and Jane clearly did too, though neither mentioned the Blake Association. The dead transport personnel gave investigators almost nothing useful. Their identities were legitimate, their employment histories checked out, and none had criminal records suggesting an obvious connection to Red John. Searches of their homes produced no secret accounts, coded emails, suspicious payments, or hidden material explaining their actions.

The words spoken before the suicides became another unexplained detail in the official report. Castle recognized “Tyger Tyger” as the William Blake reference immediately, and the phrase was added to the growing Red John file. To everyone else, it appeared to be another piece of the killer’s fascination with symbolism and psychological games. To Travis and Jane, it confirmed something far more dangerous.

By morning, Allison Reed’s investigation had split into two separate tracks. NYPD retained Allison’s homicide, while the ambulance murders became a new Red John case with CBI taking the lead once the New York crime-scene work was completed. Price’s death complicated Allison’s case, though it didn’t end the investigation.

Montgomery refused to let the team close the murder simply because their strongest suspect was dead. Price had tried to kill Cassandra and fired at police, but neither crime proved he had murdered Allison. Cassandra still sat beneath a mountain of circumstantial evidence, and the detectives needed enough proof to establish which story was real.

Cassandra remained under police protection after doctors treated the injuries she suffered while running from Price. Her APB was canceled, and she gave investigators a complete statement about Allison. Records confirmed Cassandra had given birth seventeen years earlier to Sophia Wells and later placed her for adoption. Court documents established that Sophia eventually became Sophie Reed after Daniel and Allison adopted her. That explained Cassandra’s obsessive interest in the Reed family.

Cassandra also admitted using information from Lupen Cullen’s investigators during paid sessions. She had learned private info, family habits, favorite songs, old nicknames, routines, and other details before presenting some of them as spiritual messages. Her conduct was deceptive and potentially fraudulent, though it still didn’t make her Allison’s killer.

The burglary report from Cassandra’s office became more important once detectives reopened it. Her watch and bracelet, the same pieces visible on the disguised person at the Weyland, had been reported stolen months earlier. That weakened one of the strongest apparent links placing Cassandra inside Room 814 and shifted attention toward Nathaniel Price.

Search warrants covered Price’s apartment, office, vehicle, storage unit, and electronic devices. Because he had worked as an attorney, a separate review team handled potentially privileged client material while investigators isolated evidence connected to suspected crimes.

A laptop recovered from Price’s apartment contained deleted remnants of the Weyland account created under the name Michael Rowan. Technicians recovered fragments of the Room 814 reservation, along with browser history showing repeated searches for the hotel’s floor plans and guest-room selection system. A prepaid card found inside his storage unit matched the payment used for the reservation, while another folder contained printed copies of the Weyland maintenance schedule, including the overnight camera shutdown covering Allison’s murder window.

Investigators also recovered clothing consistent with the female disguise seen on hotel surveillance. 

The poisoning evidence was even stronger. Inside a locked cabinet, CSU found arsenic compounds, precision measuring equipment, disposable gloves, and printed research concerning repeated low-level exposure. The chemical impurity profile closely matched the arsenic recovered from Allison’s medication and contaminated incense.

Price had also kept copies of Cassandra’s surveillance files. Those files contained photographs of Allison entering the Weyland, notes about her attachment to Room 814, details about her medication, and observations about her spiritual routines. The anonymous email sent to CBI was connected to the same burner laptop used for the Michael Rowan reservation.

The motive completed the picture. Price’s private files contained years of material connected to the East 73rd Street explosion. Newspaper clippings, civil filings, photographs of Laura and Emily Bennett, Christopher Bennett’s testimony, and copies of Allison’s old company emails had been preserved carefully. The collection showed Price’s interest in Allison began long before Daniel and Sophie died.

His entry into her life had been planned. The professional referral that brought him to Allison after her family tragedy had been fabricated. He approached her when she was grieving and vulnerable, becoming someone she trusted completely. The relationship, physical abuse, and poisoning grew from a revenge plan that had been developing for years.

Price wanted more than Allison’s death. He wanted her weakened, frightened, confused, dependent, and increasingly uncertain about her own mind. The arsenic intensified symptoms she already associated with grief until she began seeing Sophie where Sophie couldn’t possibly be. Even the hit-and-run involving Matthew Cole now fit into the damage Price had been causing.

Cassandra had been his intended scapegoat. Her connection to Sophie gave her motive, her incense created an apparent poisoning route, and her surveillance made her look obsessive. Her stolen jewelry placed her apparent likeness inside the hotel, while her disappearance after Allison’s death made the story seem complete. Price had carefully built a murderer for the police to find, and the warehouse destroyed that plan.

Once the physical, digital, financial, and forensic evidence was assembled, Cassandra was formally cleared of Allison Reed’s murder. Questions remained about how she had exploited Allison’s grief and used secretly gathered information during paid readings, but those matters were separated from the homicide investigation.

Allison’s case was administratively closed with Nathaniel Price identified as her killer. There would be no trial and no confession, though the evidence left little reasonable doubt about what he had done.

The Red John investigation ended very differently. Every trail from the ambulance stopped almost immediately. Surveillance produced no clear image of Red John, no usable DNA or fingerprints were recovered, and the dead transport workers left behind nothing connecting them to any larger organization.

Red John had entered New York, killed the man who borrowed his identity, erased the people who could explain how it happened, and disappeared again. By the time Allison Reed’s photograph finally came down from the murder board, one image remained pinned nearby, showing a perfect red smile staring back from the ambulance wall.

...

[Meanwhile...] [Night]

The park had nearly emptied by the time Patrick Jane arrived.

A few runners still moved along the distant path, while streetlights cast pale circles across the wet pavement left behind by an earlier shower. Trees blocked most of the city noise, leaving only occasional traffic and the rustling of leaves whenever the wind moved through the branches.

Travis sat alone on a bench overlooking the small lake.

Jane approached without announcing himself and sat beside him, leaving enough space between them that anyone watching from a distance would've assumed they were strangers sharing the same bench.

Neither spoke immediately.

Travis eventually reached into his jacket and removed two small flash drives.

He held them between two fingers. "Everything starts with these."

Jane glanced toward them before looking ahead again. "You really enjoy dramatic little meetings."

"You came anyway."

"Curiosity is a terrible weakness."

Travis handed him the first drive. "This contains everything you need. Names of the CBI moles I know about, connections between several Blake Association members, locations they've used, and enough background information for you to confirm I'm telling the truth without alerting anyone."

Jane turned the drive between his fingers. "Including Bertram?"

"Especially Bertram."

That made Jane's expression tighten slightly.

Travis took out the second drive and placed it in Jane's other hand. "This one matters just as much."

Jane examined both. 

"Somewhere inside Gale Bertram's private storage unit is another drive containing the Blake Association's membership records. Names, positions, favors, criminal activity, leverage, everything they've collected to keep members obedient."

Jane looked toward Travis. "And you want me to steal it."

"I want you to recover it without anybody realizing it's gone," Travis replied. "That's why you've got the second drive."

Jane's eyes dropped toward the replacement.

Travis leaned forward slightly. "You switch them with the original one. It has the same casing, same file structure, and just some encrypted garbage when somebody opens it."

Jane gave him a thoughtful look. "Why bother replacing it? If we have the real thing, shouldn't we simply start making arrests?"

"If that drive disappears, Bertram knows immediately that somebody has penetrated the Association. He'll alert everyone just to save his hide. Then every compromised cop, federal agent, judge, investigator, and bureaucrat connected to them starts burning evidence and running for cover."

Travis looked directly at him.

"And Red John disappears before we ever reach him."

Jane slowly nodded as the logic settled into place.

"So we let Bertram believe his secrets are still safe."

"Exactly."

Jane studied the first drive again. "You've seen the real drive?"

"Let's just say, I know certain things that will help both of us reach our goal," Travis replied.

Jane turned toward him. "Which brings us back to the question you keep avoiding about how you know any of this."

Travis gave him a faint smile. "You agreed to the deal knowing I wasn't answering that."

Jane sighed quietly. "I dislike mysterious people considerably more when they're better at being mysterious than I am."

"Consider it character development."

Jane slipped both drives into separate inside pockets. "Suppose I recover Bertram's drive. What happens afterward?"

"You bring it directly to me. You don't copy it, plug it into CBI equipment, or tell Lisbon what you've found until I've decrypted everything."

Jane's expression hardened slightly at the mention of Lisbon.

Travis noticed. "I'm not asking you to distrust her. I'm asking you to understand how dangerous this is. The Blake Association has people inside the CBI, FBI, local departments, courts, and probably places neither of us knows about yet. You wouldn't want her to get into trouble or get shot, would you?"

Jane looked across the dark lake. "So once you decrypt the roster, we know exactly who Red John can call."

"And exactly who we need to neutralize."

Jane's faint smile returned. "Neutralize sounds ominous."

"Expose, arrest, blackmail with their own crimes if necessary, whatever keeps them from helping him. Once we have that list, the Blake Association becomes leverage instead of protection."

Travis rested his arms across his knees.

"We keep the FBI quiet, keep the CBI moles contained, lock down every escape route Red John normally uses, and make sure nobody realizes we're coming."

Jane's eyes became colder.

"For once, he won't know what's happening."

"That's the idea," Travis replied. "Red John has spent years hiding behind other people. We're going to strip every layer away until Thomas McAllister is standing completely alone."

Jane remained silent for several seconds before standing.

"And then?"

Travis looked up at him.

"Then I capture Red John."

Jane's expression didn't change.

Travis stood beside him and slipped both hands into his jacket pockets. "After that, Patrick, he's yours. Do whatever you want with him."

For the first time that night, Jane smiled without any amusement behind it.

"I'll get you that drive."

Travis nodded once. "Don't rush and be careful. If Bertram realizes what you've taken, the entire plan collapses before we even begin."

Jane turned toward the path leading out of the park.

"Don't worry, Detective Wilson," he said while slipping his hands into his pockets. "Stealing something from a dishonest man without him realizing it is considerably easier than you might imagine."

Travis watched him walk away before giving a faint smile.

"Just don't forget our deal and don't die."