Requiem
Part Three:
Dead Robins Club
"Life sucks, then you die." – ancient proverb
Jimmy Higgs did, in fact, turn out to be a dead end. As in, literally dead. Lying face-down on the floor with a knife in the back dead.
Jason sighs, nudging the body with his toe. There's a lot of blood, and the corpse is already starting to smell, setting the time of the murder back a few days at least. And he'd had such high hopes for this lead, too. Well, not exactly. But he was hoping for something.
He crouches down next to the body and inspects the knife carefully. It's an ordinary carving blade, probably even came from Higgs's own kitchen. Except . . . there.
A little smiley face, scratched into the base. He reaches out and tugs the knife free of the body, with a little difficulty considering that it has long gone stiff with rigor mortis, and turns it over in his hands. It's caked with dried blood, so there's nothing he can really glean from the blade, but with a closer look he can see that the hilt is a sturdy, dark wood with smooth metal bolts up the sides. Steel, most likely, judging by the shade of the metal and the overall tastefulness of the rest of the hilt.
Much too tasteful for someone like Jimmy Higgs, whose apartment is small and ratty and located on the wrong side of town. (Not that there is a right side of town in Gotham.)
Shifting into a more optimal position, he heaves the body over. A flash of bright red catches his eye immediately, and he reaches into the pocket of Higgs's hoodie to see what it is.
He stops, feels a shadow fall over him. Feels something curling in his stomach.
It's a playing card. A Joker playing card.
He clenches his jaw and stands, stuffing the card into his pocket. Not such a dead end after all, then. Higgs knew something, something that Stretch Samson didn't, something that warranted one of the Joker's signature calling cards. And it had to have something to do with that cousin Samson mentioned.
Jason only has to search through the dilapidated desk in the corner to find the address of the cousin, Fred. It's scribbled on the back of a grease-stained fast food receipt dated about three months back. A relatively new place, then – a perfect hideout for the Joker until he can finish setting up his show.
His throat tightens. Before he even realizes what he's doing, he's out the window, on his motorcycle, and halfway down the street.
Of course, it's a bad idea to go in all half-cocked, especially if the Joker really is hiding out with this Fred guy, so he slows to a stop once he's about three quarters of the way there. No need to alert the Joker or any of his goons to his presence, and he'll have time to formulate more of a plan than just "break in and kill that fucker" on the way. The information he's working with isn't very useful in that aspect, however. He doesn't know if the Joker is actually there, let alone how many others and, more importantly, how many weapons. What kind of weapons.
Despite them having a head start, the Bats seemed to have known about as much as Jason did, and now he's the one in the lead. Not by much, according to the chatter he's hearing in his ear, but he's closer than any of them. The thing about the Bats? As terrifying as they can be, they don't kill, and all but the stupidest of criminals know that. The Red Hood is a dangerous, brutal killer, by reputation if not always by nature, and that makes him a great with interrogations.
Jason blinks, suddenly hyper aware of his surroundings. There's a prickly feeling crawling up his spine, a warning sign. Someone is watching him.
He keeps going, pretending nothing is wrong. Now that he's paying more attention, he can hear footsteps from behind him, a single set, keeping pace. Too light to be a henchman, not quite stealthy enough to be a trained assassin. He lets out a huff of air, soundless, having known that a confrontation with at least one of the Bats was going to happen sooner or later – although he had definitely been hoping for later.
"Can I help you?" he asks with a fake, caustic cheer, casually pulling out his kris and turning around to face his follower in the darkness. At first he can only see an outline, definitely caped, until the figure steps out of the deeper shadows and eventually resolves into the purple, hooded being known as Spoiler.
"Yes, actually," she says brightly. The chatter in his ear erupts into a quiet roar, and he realizes that the Bats have recognized his voice and are screaming at her to get away from him. They don't know he's listening in. He laughs to himself and turns down the distracting noise. "I just wanted to introduce myself."
Jason frowns, although he knows she can't see it. "I already know who you are, kid," he says. "Pretty sure you're supposed to be dead."
"Well, so are you, but here we are," Spoiler retorts. Jason has to snort at that. Kid's got balls, that's for sure. "Welcome to the Dead-But-Not-Really-Dead Robins Club. Or just Dead Robins Club for short."
He scoffs. "Dead Robins Club? You've got to be shitting me."
"Nope," she says, popping the p. "It's totally exclusive too."
"Look, kid, you seem okay and all," he begins, flipping the kris casually in his hand. It's his way of saying that, yeah, this conversation? Over. "But why would I want to be in some kind of kiddie club with you?"
"Because I'm awesome." Well, there is that. "And because it's always better to have backup when dealing with the Joker."
Outwardly he doesn't seem fazed, continuing to toy with the dagger, but inside he's frozen. The girl has a point, even if he really hates to admit it. But since when has he cared about playing it safe? He doesn't want a Bat butting in on this either, and even if it's her idea to work together, she isn't about to approve of his methods.
But she stands firm, not even flinching when he points the kris at her. Maybe that's what makes him agree. "…alright, just this once. And if you really wanna do this, we play by my rules," he states decisively. "After all, I'm the original Dead Robin."
Jason can't actually see it, but he's pretty sure she's grinning. "Oh, of course," she agrees, and he is very, very certain that he will regret this later. He isn't about to say no, though, not about to let a teenage girl make him second guess himself. He's stuck with her now.
Great.
He blinks, suddenly very aware of the fact that the quiet chatter in his ear has died off into nothing. The Bats will be tracking them through Spoiler's earpiece, and are probably on their way this very second. It's time to move.
"Let's go." Without waiting for her to respond, he turns on his heel and starts stalking toward their destination. "And ditch the others!"
She knows exactly what he's talking about, and doesn't even try to pretend otherwise, only hesitating a moment before taking out the earpiece and, after making sure his back is turned, hiding it in a crevice in the wall. Predictable. The Bats will still be tracking them, but even if he made her destroy it they'd still have her last known location and be able to catch up from there. "Alright, so where are we going, oh wise leader? What's the plan?" she calls, jogging to catch up with him.
"Found this on the body of Jimmy Higgs," he says, taking the red joker card from his pocket and flashing it at her. She plucks it from his hand and inspects it, noting the few drops of blood dried onto it. "Informant says his cousin was looking for a job, might've taken up with the clown."
"So we're going to this cousin's place?"
"I got a recent address from Jimbo's apartment, pretty new place by the looks of it," he confirms. "And if he didn't leave a forwarding address when he moved…"
"…he wouldn't have anyone coming around to see him. Perfect hideout for the Joker, if only temporarily," Spoiler finishes. "Except he told his cousin?"
"So Joker killed him, yeah."
"Damn." She shakes her head. "So, any other info on the place?"
"I know the apartment is on the third floor, and there will be at least two exits from the apartment itself, more from the building," Jason lists off. It's not much, hardly anything; just standard knowledge. "We'll need to scout out those first, make sure they're covered."
"That's it?"
"It's not like I have all that fancy-ass surveillance equipment you Bats are so fond of," he says gruffly.
She puts her hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright. Let's get going then," she says determinedly, racing ahead.
"Hey, who's the leader here?" he shouts, running after her. She laughs. "You don't even know the address!"
"Good point! What is it?"
Yeah, he's definitely going to regret this. If only from the massive headache this Spoiler kid is going to give him.
They reach the place in a few minutes time, peering at it from an alleyway across and down the street. "Are you sure this is the place?" Spoiler whispers. "It doesn't look like much."
"It's supposed to be a hideout, not a fucking vacation home," he hisses at her.
"Calm down, helmet head, it was just a question."
He rolls his eyes. "Rule one, no stupid questions."
"There's no such thing as a stupid question," she quotes wisely.
"Only stupid people," he finishes.
"Hey!"
