"She originally walked along that path from west to east, planning to cross through the park. But when she was about 20 meters away from the tree, she sensed something was wrong. She panicked and tried to run, but she twisted her ankle and lost one of her high heels here. You can see where a patch of soil has been displaced—she fell but quickly got up. By then, the assailant had caught up to her, and they struggled in this area, as evidenced by the chaotic footprints."
"Then, she was beaten and shoved hard. She hit the ground heavily, injuring her forehead against the tree root here and leaving knee imprints nearby. There are also faint finger and palm prints; the hospital exam should confirm corresponding injuries."
"At that point, she may have lost consciousness or been intimidated enough to lose the will to resist. She was assaulted right here under the tree, and afterward, the assailant fled northward."
Jack had more or less reconstructed what happened, though some questions remained. Besides the victim's footprints, there were two other distinct sets of shoe prints at the scene.
One print resembled a common sneaker or athletic shoe—large, with a deep tread. The other had a simpler, less common pattern, somewhat like a work boot or, as it would be called in the U.S., a "work shoe."
Then there was the steak in the foil tray, covered with a thick layer of coffee grounds. It appeared to be a specialty dish from some restaurant. Based on its freshness, it had likely been dropped here that evening, though its relevance to the case was uncertain.
"That's from Raymond's Steakhouse. They have a special dish—a steak marinated in coffee grounds. The restaurant's located at 69 Columbus Avenue. It's quite famous," Castle, who had been eavesdropping eagerly, raised his hand as if answering a quiz.
"So, we're narrowing down our suspects to the few dozen people who left the restaurant with a steak?" Beckett asked.
"More likely, fewer than that. Those foil trays are usually reusable and kept in the kitchen. Our person of interest is probably a staff member at the restaurant," Jack replied, shaking his head. He knew the restaurant scene well enough.
"Perhaps I can narrow it down even further." Mike Taylor, who had been meticulously combing the area for clues, lifted a small metal ring with tweezers. It had a faint smear of blood on it.
"What's this?"
"It looks like a nose ring," Beckett guessed, glancing at Taylor for confirmation.
"Well, now that we're working late, how about some steak on me? Anyone up for a trip?" Jack asked with a smile as he removed his gloves. A look of intense anticipation fell on him from behind.
"Why'd you have to bring that nuisance along?" Beckett muttered under her breath, clearly irritated as she walked alongside Jack. Castle trailed behind them, thoroughly entertained.
"Aren't you a Castle fan? You recognized him immediately," Jack said, puzzled. While it hadn't been love at first sight for them, he'd thought Beckett had a reasonable opinion of Castle.
"I may have read a book or two, but that guy just assumed I was one of his brainless fangirls and asked where I wanted his autograph," Beckett fumed, recalling the incident with lingering annoyance.
"Uh." Jack discreetly glanced over her, thinking it was rather insensitive of Castle. Maybe he was just too accustomed to signing for his overly enthusiastic female fans in, well, unconventional places.
The trio reached Raymond's Steakhouse, which was only a block away from Central Park, in under twenty minutes.
"Hey, man, anyone here wear a nose ring?" Beckett took the lead on questioning, flashing her badge at the cook in the open kitchen and getting an immediate response.
"Yeah, there's a busboy with one. He's in the back," the cook replied, gesturing toward the rear kitchen.
Beckett pushed open the door and found a young man, no older than twenty, washing dishes. All three noticed the medical tape on his nose right away.
"What are you doing? You can't be here!" the young man jumped in surprise.
"So, that nose injury…happened while you were washing dishes?" Castle asked, peeking from behind and pointing to his own nose.
"W-what do you mean?" The young man's face went tense with worry.
"We're here to return something. Did you lose a nose ring?" Beckett flashed her badge again.
The young man bolted for the back exit, but Beckett, who was ready for this, caught him within two steps, kicking his knee to bring him down.
"I didn't do anything! Ow!" he screamed as she twisted his arm behind his back, pinning him down.
"Ouch, that looks painful," Castle winced theatrically, as though he were the one subdued by the fierce detective. Jack just shook his head, amused but exasperated by Castle's antics.
With Beckett handling the interrogation back at the precinct, Jack grabbed a couple of takeout steaks. He delivered one to Mike Taylor, who was still busy at the crime scene, then crossed Central Park again to take Castle home. Jack drove to the hospital to pick up Hannah, and they enjoyed a meal together. The coffee-marinated steak was a hit, and both were pleasantly surprised by the unique flavor.
The next morning, they reported to the federal building, checked in with Jubal to end their leave, and briefed Dana Moje on the previous night's case. With no major cases looming, their boss simply reminded them to tread carefully and avoid stepping on the NYPD's toes.
Jack then called Beckett for an update on the interrogation. To his surprise, the young man they apprehended hadn't confessed.
The man's shoes matched the footprints at the scene, but he claimed he had simply stumbled upon the unconscious Robin Peacock and her bag on the ground. Tempted, he rifled through the bag for cash, but Robin suddenly woke up and fought him off. In the scuffle, she tore out his nose ring, and he fled in panic.
"So he just left that battered girl lying there, didn't even think to call 911?" Hannah's eyes flashed with anger as she overheard the call. Regardless of whether his story was true, his actions were despicable.
"CSI already has his DNA; if he's the perpetrator, it won't be hard to prove," Jack reassured her. Cases like this, while seemingly straightforward, often required a stroke of luck to solve. Assaults were notoriously difficult, with assailants often leaving DNA evidence, especially in impulsive crimes where they don't have time to use precautions.
Yet such cases often went unsolved, as victims rarely reported them, and the evidence-gathering process could be challenging even when they did.
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