"You will not find Baringer here, Detective, I'm sorry. Our painter works at a space across town."
"Fine, can you at least give me the address? We need to speak with him," sighed Jim Gordon.
"Of course, but I will warn you, Baringer is not the nicest of people when interrupted from their work."
"What is it he does exactly for you?"
"Baringer is our resident scenic artist."
"What exactly is that?"
"Baringer paints and treats all scenic elements throughout our season as well as the opera's season."
Jim raised a brow at that. "I was told you guys do nearly a dozen shows a season and I know for a fact the opera does at least half a dozen every season. Sounds like a busy guy."
"That she is, detective, hence her hostility at being interrupted."
"Ah, well, we'll keep that in mind. Thank you."
Jim took the address from the company manager of the Gotham Repertory Theatre, bidding him goodbye and walking out of the offices. He hit Harvey's number in his contacts and soon the husky voice of Detective Bullock answered.
"What's up, Jim?"
"Our witness, Baringer, is not actually at the theatre, but at an address across town. Looks like it should be somewhere near East End. You mind going by that way?"
A sigh came from Harvey. "Yeah, I'm not far from there. Give me the address. Anything I need to know?"
"Yeah, the witness is apparently not too fond of being disturbed. Sorry."
"Thanks, bud, another bitchy witness is all I needed today."
"Never know, you might just make a new friend. Misery loves company, right?" Jim smiled, taking a little pleasure in Harvey's vexation.
"Screw you, boy scout," and with that Harvey hung up. Jim texted him the address right after.
Within an hour Harvey pulled up to a closed down school house. Jim specified in his text that he needed to go to the gym. Harvey parked and found a door that was cracked open leading into the gym. When he stepped in he saw the gym floor. It was once polished and shiny, but now it was covered by a patchwork of carpet and a piece of muslin that was at least fifty feet wide by thirty feet tall. He stepped forward, the sound of strange music made his ears perk a little, but he was too involved in looking at the giant work before him. It looked like some sort of Spanish villa. He looked it over, a bit taken by how massive it was.
"You have about five seconds to explain who you are and why you are here," said a woman's voice. Harvey turned more to his left, spotting the woman. She was only twenty feet away, holding a sabre. She had a second one in her other hand.
"Woah, lady, chill I-"
"Not what I wanted to hear."
She stepped forward briskly and tossed the other at him, handle first. By the time Harvey caught it she was already slashing down at him, he pulled his own up to block her.
"You know you're assaulting an officer?!"
She thrust at him, he parried, but she dodged and he would feel the sting of steal on his thighs.
"An officer of what? The IRS?"
"The law, oW!" Harvey growled as he caught steel over his stomach. She was vicious, Harvey tried to back away and blocked another attack seeing that her own chest was exposed. He lunged forward, but she spun smoothly out of the way and ended up even closer to him, her blade now at his neck, she backed him into the wall behind him. She stared him down for a moment, both of them were panting just a little. Finally she lowered her sword, but she stayed right there, inches from him.
Harvey was flustered. Who the fuck is this lady? Finally he dropped his own sword unceremoniously. She stepped back from him and looked him over.
"Why didn't you just say that when you first got here?"
"You didn't give me enough time to speak."
"You didn't speak quick enough."
"I ought to arrest you for that."
"But you won't. I have a feeling you'd like to keep this defeat under wraps."
She turned and began to walk away and Harvey followed after her.
"No, I need to speak to Mr. Baringer."
"You have found him."
"Where?"
"I am the Baringer you seek."
"I thought Baringer was a guy."
"You thought wrong. And you are?"
Harvey observed her stride and her backside. Her hair was completely covered and wrapped in a bandana. She herself was clothed in coveralls that were a swatch of colors. By the looks of it she occasionally used her own leg as a color palette, as a few different fresh shades of peach were on her left thigh.
"Detective Bullock."
She looked back to him as she got to a set of stairs that looked like they had been added to the gym and weren't part of its original design that led up to a catwalk above.
"I have seen your name in the paper, come, walk with me, Detective."
Harvey didn't even… He just didn't even know what the hell was going on with this lady. He just shrugged and humored her. At least she wasn't fighting him anymore.
Once they reached the top of the steps to the catwalk she would walk to the middle of it and lean against the railing, looking down. Once he joined her he didn't look down, he looked at her.
"You were a witness to the Harrison murder five nights ago. Can you tell me about that?"
"Many people saw that murder. Why are you bothering me about it?"
"Word is that you may have seen the killer's vehicle."
"I did."
"Well?"
"It was a black sedan. The plates were missing."
"Well, a whole hell lot of good that does me."
"The body though… it had two dents on the passenger's side and the paint… the paint was a red based black with a shimmering finish. Also, I noticed there was a scratch on the bumper, it looked as though it used to be red and was painted over with the black."
Harvey folded his arms, leaning his back against the rail and looking at her as she looked down.
"What about the killer? Anything interesting you can tell me about him."
"He was about six feet tall, I'd say he weighed about 200 pounds. He wore a black coat, black pants and shirt, he was left handed. He had blue eyes, and though I couldn't see his hair well, I saw a strand or two of it, it was red. His ball cap was black, but it was green on the underside of the brim. The way he walked and ran, he has an old knee injury that stirs up during rain fall, it was wet that night. I could see the way he grit his teeth when he put weight on it.
Harvey tilted his head with a raised brow, staring at her. She turned her head to him as he stayed quiet.
"What?"
"That was just… I never met a witness with that many speculations about a perp."
"it is not speculation it is all fact."
"Oh?"
"You asked for what I could tell you and I told you. What else do you want from me, Detective?"
Harvey felt a slight pang of guilt, she looked offended by him.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound ungrateful, Miss Baringer, that is all very helpful information."
She nodded and looked back down to below. Harvey finally turned and looked down. He gasped quietly, placing his hands on the rail. The backdrop he'd observed when he first walked took nearly his entire scope of vision. They were at least forty feet above it and it was marvelous. Seeing it up close and from the ground did not come close to doing it justice. He looked it over for at least a minute before she spoke again.
"Do you have a taste for art, Detective Bullock?"
"I wouldn't say that I'm much of an authority, but… you did this on your own?"
"it is my job."
"That's just insane."
"Insane?"
"I just don't even see how one person can do all of that without any help."
"Well, perhaps you should check your vision, Detective."
Harvey had to chuckle a little at that. He looked back her, observing her features and expression. She was sharp and without remorse. He suddenly felt a little warmth in his cheeks. She finally cracked a smirk at him.
"Perhaps you're right, Miss Baringer. You're very good at what you do."
"When it is finished it will be worth the compliment, but… it is appreciated nonetheless."
"I wasn't complimenting that, I was complimenting you."
"Well, aren't you a treat…"
Harvey looked back to it for a moment more and then back to her.
"So, would you be willing to make a witness statement for me, officially, downtown?"
"Right now?"
"Sure, unless another time within the next day or so is better for you."
She pulled a phone from her pocket and looked at the time.
"You're in luck. I am at the end of my day. I will need a few minutes to wash my brushes, but if you can wait…"
"Of course."
They descended back to ground level. She took about fifteen minutes to square her things away. Harvey just observed the place and stole glances back at her while she washed brushes and closed paint cans, stowing things away into their proper place. Finally she began to get out of the coveralls, Harvey turned away to give her some privacy. A moment later she had walked past him, going toward the door. She was dressed in a pair of snug jeans and a black shirt with ¾ length sleeves and the same boots she had on before. She grabbed her coat, a tan, wool-lined thing that nearly swallowed her up. She picked up a small messenger bag. He followed behind her, finding the view of her from behind wasn't all that bad. They were about to step out and she stopped. She pulled the bandana from her hair and locks of golden blonde cascaded down. Harvey caught the scent of a faint coconut as he passed her to step out. She was right behind him and turned to lock the door in several places. Once she was done she turned back to him. He already had the passenger door open for her.
"Your chariot awaits you, madam."
What the fuck am I doing? Flirting?
A few minutes later they were going along their merry little way to the police station. Up until that point they had mostly stayed quiet, the occasional dispatch call over the police radio breaking the silence. Eventually she looked over to him, she'd been looking through emails on her phone.
"Do you like it?"
"Ma'am?"
"Being a detective?"
"It's a job."
"No, it is not, Detective. It's a career, one that I imagine takes a lot of energy and time from your personal life."
"Oh? You're an expert then?"
"You have bags under your eyes, you sleep less than eight hours a night, often less than six. You chain smoke when you are alone, you did it before you found me, your hand smells of Turkish cigarettes. You drink heavily, I could smell the whiskey on your breath when I got close enough to smell it."
She looked over to him with a smirk. He just made a grimace at her.
"And no wedding band, but your predatory glances in my direction, especially after I shed the coveralls, suggest you are sexually active and full of lustful urge, yet in no relationship, currently. Your repoire with me thus far just gives me the impression you put off an air of chauvinism, but deep down you admire all women. You pretend to be misogynistic to keep women from feeling attracted enough to you to pursue a relationship that lasts longer than a few hours, you further this goal by caring little to shave, cut your hair, or do much of anything most men do to attract the attention of suitable mates. However, you are an insatiable flirt, you have been for most of your life. You simply cannot help yourself because deep down you love women so much that you think it would be unfair of you to expect one to live with the idea that you may not make it home on that fateful night in which you will be killed in the line of duty. "
A driver behind them honked, Harvey had been staring at her as they had been stopped at a red light that had turned green a few seconds ago while he just stared at her in disbelief. At the sound of the horn from behind he turned his attention back to driving.
"You think you're so clever, don't you, Baringer?"
"Detective, if I were clever I'd have told you that you that you like it when a woman grips locks of your hair in the throes of passion."
"How the hell do you-"
"It was a guess, and now it was confirmed. That was the clever part in it… you just confirmed it with your defensiveness."
Harvey gripped the wheel hard. He was feeling angry, offended, a little confused, and wierded out by how spot on she was.
"Lady, you're a piece of work, you know that?"
"Sure, but do you?"
"Alright, enough with your little mind games."
She frowned, suddenly feeling a little guilty. She'd made him very uncomfortable. She had a gift for observing people in this way. It was why she worked alone, she had a habit of driving people away. She suddenly felt very guilty.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to strike at you. I was just making conversation. I shouldn't have done that."
Harvey glanced over, seeing that she was looking down at her feet. He looked back to the road ahead.
"Its fine… I guess its just not great having to listen to what's wrong with your life."
"There's nothing wrong with the path you choose, Detective, so long as it is what feels most right to you."
She remained quiet the rest of the way, as did Harvey.