Castle: IM Jerry Tyson

Now he sells ficus trees and buries secrets under a stolen name in Queens, the Gardener to everyone who never asks why his hands remember knots they shouldn't. Eleven aliases, twelve stash-houses, a decaying map of watched faces - that's the whole estate he inherited, and it only ever shrinks. Every clean getaway costs him something real, and the ledger never balances back the same day it's spent. Go back far enough and the man who built this, Jerry Tyson, New York's own Triple Killer, was still finishing an answer in an interrogation room when someone else woke up behind his eyes. Richard Castle noticed first: a stillness in the left hand that no one had trained the confession out of, and he has never once let it go. What the Gardener knows, and will never scrub clean, is that a second toothbrush in a burned stash-house means somebody else did some of the killing 3XK took credit for. He can vanish, or misdirect, but he can never buy his way out with a body.