When cleaning statues, workers first remove the flowers and grass surrounding the base, and once the cleaning is done, the gardener plants new greenery around the statue. So, besides the workers cleaning the statues, the gardeners working beneath them might also have traces of walnut powder on them.
---
"You followed the victim through the park, didn't you, Billy?" Beckett had wasted no time bringing Billy, the gardener who worked in Central Park that night, back to the interrogation room.
That was him. Standing behind the one-way mirror, Jack looked at the chubby, seemingly harmless face of the man in question. Instantly, he was certain that this was their guy.
Characters like him had shown up in countless TV dramas—a face that looked harmless but had a sinister edge, specifically cast to play twisted villains with an ironic charm. And his acting was excellent; he often flashed a disturbing smile in the final reveal, giving audiences an instinctive sense of discomfort and leaving a lasting impression.
"How many times do I have to say it? You've got the wrong guy," Billy protested, his demeanor seemingly sincere.
Unfortunately for him, both Beckett and Mike Taylor, seasoned detectives with years of experience, had seen too many suspects who looked innocent but weren't. They weren't moved in the slightest.
"According to the city's schedule, you were assigned to replant the flowers around the statue that day, correct?" Beckett slid a duty roster across the table toward him.
"But I was sent to the north side of the park. They were short-staffed over there, and my supervisor can back me up on that," Billy countered quickly.
At that, Castle, who was observing from the other side of the glass with Jack and Hannah, blurted out, "It's him!"
When he noticed the curious looks from the two FBI agents beside him, Castle explained, "He didn't even ask where the crime scene was before offering an alibi, which means he—"
"The scene has been cordoned off for three days. It's entirely possible he noticed that later," Hannah replied, unimpressed. "Plus, four other statue-cleaning workers have already been questioned, and they've all worked together since then."
Hannah wondered if this detective novelist's intelligence was a bit erratic.
"Alright… maybe I've used that plot device a little too often in my books," Castle admitted sheepishly, making a gesture as if to zip his lips.
The interrogation continued. Beckett pointed at a list of addresses printed on a sheet of paper. "But you live southwest of the park, right? Which means you'd pass through Strawberry Fields on your way home. That's quite close to the crime scene."
Billy opened his mouth, momentarily at a loss for words. After a pause, he shook his head slightly, as though struggling to explain himself.
"I agreed to come in voluntarily, and I've even provided a DNA sample. If I were guilty, why would I be so cooperative?"
"Good point. Since you're so cooperative, how about providing us with the clothes and work boots you wore that day?" Mike Taylor, who had been observing silently, suddenly spoke up.
"No problem," Billy replied without hesitation. "I'll do whatever it takes to clear my name."
---
"So, all we need to do now is match his shoe print, and that's it," Castle said, clapping his hands with a sense of accomplishment.
Beckett was quick to rain on his parade. "Not quite. At most, this would prove he worked in Central Park and was at the scene, but it's not direct evidence. This guy's smart; he knows we don't have him nailed down."
"But CSI can test his DNA sample. The sample collected from the victim contains no live sperm, and he's infertile too. Isn't that direct evidence?" Castle asked, puzzled.
"Yes, but even a half-decent lawyer could argue it's just a coincidence. Only 2% of men have azoospermia. That's enough to create reasonable doubt for a jury," Jack explained, glancing over at Mike Taylor, who nodded in agreement.
"Ah…" Castle's eyes darted as another idea struck him. "How about a lineup? We could get a group of people, have them stand behind the one-way glass, and see if the victim can identify him."
"It's a last resort. Even with that, he could still get away due to the lack of solid evidence," Beckett sighed, rubbing her temples.
"I could try convincing Robin to come in for an identification, but judging by her current condition, I'm not feeling very optimistic," Hannah said. She'd visited Robin the day before, and the girl's mental state was still fragile; she remained withdrawn and unresponsive.
"He probably knows he's infertile, which is why he's so confident," Mike Taylor remarked with a bitter smile. "Stella's still in the hospital. She's invested in this case, and I doubt she'll be thrilled when she hears this news."
"At least we've basically narrowed down the suspect. Now it's just a matter of finding direct evidence. We're making progress compared to before, aren't we?" Jack offered, though he didn't have any better ideas himself.
---
The next morning, when Jack and Hannah arrived at the NYPD precinct, they were surprised to find Castle already there.
"You're seriously letting him go? CSI confirmed his DNA was a match with the issue! Can't you at least hold him a bit longer? This is insane! What if we have another assault victim in New York tonight?" Castle complained loudly to Beckett.
"The victim refused to make an ID, and CSI hasn't found direct evidence. If we don't want trouble from the DA's office, we'll have to release him," Beckett replied, equally frustrated. "Besides, you're a private citizen. Isn't this a bit beyond your purview?"
Castle wasn't backing down. "As a father to a young girl, I think I have every right to be concerned about the police's work."
Jack rolled his eyes and stepped in, pulling Castle aside. The tension between these two was almost electric—just a spark, and they'd explode.
"Mr. Castle, please try to understand. CSI worked all night, and none of us have been idle," Hannah said, gently steering Beckett away.
At that moment, an officer led a chubby Billy out of the holding cell and unlocked his handcuffs.
Jack patted Castle on the shoulder. "Why don't you join us on a visit to the CSI lab? Maybe you'll get inspired again like you did yesterday."
Castle's eyes lit up. "Really? Let's go now!"
The group walked past Billy, who had just been released, and as they stepped out of the precinct, Jack noticed a familiar figure.
"Hannah!" Jack called quietly to avoid drawing attention, then took two quick steps forward to block the figure's path.
"Mr. Peacock, what do you intend to do?"
Robin's father looked completely different from his previous polished appearance. He wore a plain hoodie, his eyes bloodshot, and he stared intently at Billy, who was trailing behind the group, about to leave the precinct.
"Is it him? The bastard who hurt my daughter?"
"Are you out of your mind?" Jack grabbed the gun hidden in Peacock's hoodie pocket through the fabric, forcibly steering him into a nearby alley, while Hannah subtly blocked the alley's entrance, keeping the curious Castle at bay.
"Do you realize that possessing an illegal firearm in this state is a third-degree felony? Do you really want to end up in jail for two or three years just when your daughter needs you most?"
"You wouldn't understand because you don't have children, Agent Tavore. I don't care what happens to me anymore. I can't stand watching my daughter wake up screaming from nightmares every night, even with me right there beside her."
Peacock's face contorted with rage, and the anger blazing in his eyes was intense enough to burn.
"And what then? You're her only family. Are you planning to land yourself in prison so that when she wakes up in the middle of a nightmare, she'll have no one there to comfort her?" Jack's words left Peacock speechless. The air grew heavy, filled only with the sound of his furious breathing.
"As I said before, trust us. The only thing you need to do now is be there for your daughter. I can pretend none of this happened, but you won't get a second chance."
With that, Jack pried Peacock's fingers open, took the revolver from his pocket, emptied the bullets, and tucked both the gun and the rounds into his own pocket.
------------------
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