I just have one thing to say: I'm not dead. In other news I recently overcame the mayor writers block EVER (that's only partially true… actually I was too lazy to write anything so I better get down to it before laziness attacks again) So, if I remember correctly, last time it ended in a cliffhanger… you guys must be hating me. Well, no further delay, here comes "Murphy in Gotham" chapter 4
Disclaimer: Same as ever.
Murphy in Gotham
Chapter 3
I had seen and read about THE "Wayne Manor" in magazines and newspapers, but the real thing was way more amazing. I mean, I'd seen mansions before, but this one tops them all. And I haven't even entered yet!
Now, you must be wondering 'what the heck' I'm doing standing in front of this place. Well, it all started a few hours ago, at Chicago's Police Department locker room.
- Flash Back -
"Let me repeat the question," I said when she didn't answer, "Since when are you 'Batgirl' Barbara?" she gave me a nervous laugh.
"Batgirl? Come on Karrin, do you hear yourself? How can I…?" I shut her up with a glare (the kind I give Harry when he is being a jerk… yes… that glare) what can I say? I hate lies.
"Ok, fine," she said, covering her eyes with her hand as if she were tired, "Now I see that I won't be able to convince you that I'm not who you think I am," she started, "but this isn't just my secret to keep," she stopped and approached me putting her hands on my shoulders, "I can't reveal anything without talking with those two first, you understand that, right?"
"Of course I understand," I said standing up and opening the door, "I'll wait here until you finish talking with Wayne and Grayson then you will come back and tell me everything, but please, don't take too long."
You should have seen her face… she couldn't believe I already knew.
So Barbara went, talked to them, and returned 10 minutes later. She told me that a car would pick me up after my 7 pm class. She promised me that they would answer all my questions. I would make sure they did.
What I didn't expect was the limousine Barbara stepped out of and the arrival to this… this… palace…
You should have seen my face…
- End Flashback -
Barbara stepped out of the limo and I followed. She hadn't talk in a while and I was starting to worry. As we approached the door, it opened to reveal a tall man. He was semi bald, had a mustache, and was dressed in a butlers outfit.
"Good evening Miss Barbara," said the man.
"Good evening Alfred," said the girl in return with a smile, "could you please escort Sergeant Murphy to the living room? I will tell Bruce and Dick that we are here."
"As you wish Miss Barbara," he closed the door then turned to me, "this way Miss Murphy, if you please?" Barbara had already disappeared.
"Yes, of course," for some reason I still don't understand, I couldn't correct him when he called me "Miss" instead of "Sergeant", "you are Alfred, right?"
"Yes Miss"
"How long have you worked in this house?"
"I was employed by Mr. Wayne senior, many years ago. Now I work for Master Bruce."
"So, you know right?"
"I know a lot of things Miss Murphy."
"Yes but, you know," he looked at me.
"Yes, I do," he opened the door to the living room. I stepped inside.
"Comfy," I said, looking around. There was a fire in the chimney and all the couches were made of genuine, soft, expensive, black leather.
"Master Bruce will come in a minute," he said retreating, "oh, and one last thing."
"Yes?"
"Don't be nervous," he said, "for what I've heard; all three of them have you in very high regard." And with that, he left.
…
The next minutes I was left wondering, what would Dresden do in this kind of situation? The funny thing about this is that all my scenarios ended up with something being blown up or set on fire.
Yes.
That was very Dresden.
I imagined Harry blowing up the walls and doors of the manor trying to escape from The Batman's wrath. I started to laugh as I haven't laughed before, or at least in a long while. That's the state they found me in, clutching my stomach and trying to breathe.
…
It took me a couple minutes to calm down.
"Have you stopped finding my furniture funny?"
"I'm sorry, I was thinking of something very funny."
"I figured as much." The three of them sat on the love seat across from the armchair I was seating at, Wayne in the middle. He relaxed his features, looked me straight in the eyes and said, "I'll be direct Miss Murphy…"
"Sergeant," I corrected
"Sergeant Murphy," he said a little annoyed. It was obvious that he wasn't used to being interrupted, "I need, no, I DEMAND to know how you managed to discover our secret."
"Easy, it was boy wonder's fault," I said, getting comfortable in the armchair.
"My fault? How come it was my fault?"
"I'll explain," I said, sinking deeper into the armchair, "I'm a martial artist with more experience than you can imagine and, as such, I kind of have the ability to remember the fighting style of whomever I fight with. It's an ability that has helped me countless of times in tournaments and in real life."
"In other words…," said Barbara, guessing where I was going.
"Yes," I said, "your fighting style gave you away."
"But you fought Robin, not Dick," said Wayne.
"Also, you didn't 'see' my fighting style. It was dark."
"Oh, yeah… that was the tricky part. Something about your technique made me think that I'd seen it somewhere else. I tried to remember tournaments in Chicago, New York, LA, but I couldn't place you. Then I realized that I was wasting my time. I've never heard your name before so it was impossible to place you in those tournaments so it had to be something else."
"And it was that 'something else' that gave me away?"
"Not quite," I said, "you see, I was going around the same idea (that I'd seen you somewhere, I was even considering a street fight) over and over without getting answers. So I decided that I had to fight you in order to get my answers. During our little spare session I had a major déjà vu. I hate déjà vu, I lose concentration. Anyway, when you lost the fight and Barbara rushed to your side, I had the feeling that I'd seen that before, and then you smirked my way and said that you wanted the rematch. That was the moment when my brain connected the dots and I finally placed you as "Robin, the boy wonder"… well, not quite, I had my suspicions. But I didn't have to wait too long after that. The cherry in the pie came when you grinned. That grin of yours is unique, with or without a mask. That's what gave you all away at the end. See? Your fault."
"You have the heart of a detective Sergeant. Deduction only from observation and experience. I have to admit it, I'm impressed." After that, we entered a seemingly awkward silence. After a few minutes, I decided to break it.
"So, what will you do with me?"
"Do with you?"
"Yeah, you know; something cool like making an ancient magic sacred vow that ties me through physical pain if I ever reveal the secret or the like."
"That's not a bad idea," said Dick, "let's do that!"
"Shut up Dick," said Barbara, "we won't do anything to you Karrin. We just hope that you will keep the secret."
"And that you will become our informant," added Wayne, "besides, I don't believe in magic."
Doesn't believe in magic. If only he knew… wait a minute, did he just said…?
"Informant? No. No can't do. Sorry. I may be a detective at heart but I'm still a cop and giving away information could get me fired or worse, KILLED."
"Maybe you'll reconsider after hearing our motives."
"I doubt it. Again, I'm a cop and I'll never betray anyone in the force."
"Not even to catch a rotten apple that is infecting the rest?"
"Not even… wait what?"
"The weapon dealers that we assaulted yesterday were members of an organization ruled by a corrupt cop," explained Dick, "we need you as an informant to catch him."
"You need evidence against him."
"We wish that was the case"
"You don't mean…"
"Yes, we don't know who it is… yet." said Wayne.
"Thanks to Whitmore's testimony we made a profile and have some suspects but, that's it."
"Who?" I asked.
"Well, we know…"
"Nothing," interrupted Wayne, "you have said enough Barbara. If the Sergeant doesn't join us then we can't share more information."
"But Bruce…"
"No Barbara, he's right," I said, "I wouldn't share anymore information either," I stud up, "well, it's been a pleasure. I won't tell a soul about you or tonight and I'll act as if this never happened. Good evening." I approached the door.
"You won't think about it Sergeant?"
"There's nothing to think about. This is not my fight, it's yours. I don't want to get involved." I opened the door.
"You are wrong Murphy," said Wayne, "it is your fight."
"This is Gotham not…"
"Chicago? Did you forget who they are making deals with?"
I froze. I had INDEED forgotten about that.
Marcone.
They were right. Chicago's near future was involved. I was involved. This was also my fight.
"Ok," I said closing the door, "If you want me to do this I'll need all the information you can give me."
"So, you're in?"
"Yes," I said approaching the trio, "you have earned yourself a spy."
…
I returned to my apartment nearly at midnight (Alfred drove me home). It had been a long day and, for whatever reason, the only thing I wanted to do was drink one of Mack's beers (the colder the better even if it meant that Mack would kill me) and talk to Harry until we were both so drunk that we couldn't think.
The beer I couldn't get but the conversation…
I picked up the phone and dialed… no answer…
I tried again… no answer…
Third time's the charm… again, nothing…
I hanged up… then dialed a fourth time and left a message. Nothing desperate, just that I needed to ask him something and left my temporary number.
I was sure he would get the message and call me back in the morning and if he didn't… there was really nothing I could do about it. At least not for the moment.
Too tired to change into my pj's, I slumped into bed without undressing, boots and all. At that moment I would have preferred to be a unicellular organism so I couldn't think. Sadly, I'm a well developed female member of the Homo sapiens specie so my brain betrayed me. Yes, my brain has a mind of its own.
So, being my brain, it started reviewing my day, making emphasis in the fact that now I was a spy.
Batman's spy.
Batman's. Freaking. UNPAID. Spy.
That was definitely a what-the-hell-were-you-thinking moment combined with a "you're screwed" foot note.
At least I know where to start my (not so little) investigation. From everything Whitmore told, there could be drawn three important facts. First: The deal would be closed in one week from (I looked at the time… 12:20) yesterday. This meant that I had to hurry. Second: the Chicago party would arrive to Gotham (and something told me they were already here) only to inspect the merchandise, sign a piece of paper, and order the immediate shipment to Chicago (the vessel would be ready at the port… it was Bruce's job to find it); and third and most important: the brain of the entire operation was a cop. With the psychological profile the trio had made we had ten suspects, men and women.
Remember the "rotten apple" analogy? The one they used to lure me in? He was referring to one of them. Of course at the time I thought he was talking about a rat that was selling information and not bloody criminal selling guns. Silly me. And it was my job (with Babs help) to discover the bastard's true identity so the four of us could stop him.
*sigh*
Why do I always involve myself in this kind of situations?
I smile to myself because the answer is so obvious.
It is, and I quote Harry…
"For the fun. For the fun, fun, fun-fun, fun."
...
Author Note: If you have read all the "Dresden Files" books then you know where that last quote comes from… See you soon… I hope… xD