Chapter 4

Outside a dank downtown club called Mallory's, a typical post-midnight Gotham business transaction was taking place.

Kneeling on the pavement among the back-alley garbage bins were five men bound and gagged, heads hanging low. Another man was similarly tied up, but standing. In front of him, a sharply dressed man wearing sunglasses was taking a long drag from a cigarette, while four wiseguys with pistols stood behind the others on the ground.

Finishing his cigarette, Rico walked up to the standing man and said softly, "So, that's the new arrangement for this part of town. You collect for us now, same rates as before, and all's well. Like nothing's changed. Whadda you say?"

Spitting on the ground in front of him, the bound man snarled, "Falcone's goin' cut off your fuc—"

Poof! A brand new hole appeared in his throat as he slumped to the ground making a sickening gurgling sound. Blowing the smoke clear from the silencer-equipped pistol, he gestured to the wiseguys who roughly picked up one of the kneeling men, his eyes wide with terror.

Rico's expression was grim. "New deal: now, you give up an extra 10 percent. It's either that, or..." He pointed his pistol to the man's groin area. "Take it or leave it."

Trembling, the man suddenly looked upwards. Rico barely had time to do the same before something falling from the sky knocked them both down. He felt a might kick in the chest which sent him sprawling. The other wiseguys began firing wildly and chunks of pavement kicked up inches from Rico's face. Instantly he knew what was happening.

"It's the Batman, kill the bastard!" One of his men began firing blindly, and a bullet whistled past his head.

Scrambling to his feet cursing, he thought he saw and heard a bullet strike the Batman in the chest, but in an instant he was too close for them to fire. Among the gunmen, he kicked and punched, sending one, then two to the ground.

Preferring to fight another day, Rico turned and ran around the corner to where their car was parked. Frantically getting the vehicle in operation, he sped away just as the Batman appeared in his rear view mirror. But by then he was far ahead, and the Batman quickly diminished, then disappeared. Breathing heavily, Rico struggled to think of how to explain this debacle to the boss.

Furious beyond words at the sight of the dead hoodlum, Batman gave a savage kick to one of the gunmen who was not completely knocked out of action. In a fury, he picked up one of the bound men and removed his gag.

"Hey man, thanks for saving my—" A brutal head butt silenced him.

"You're going to jail too," Batman gruffly said. Suddenly the others began trying to get up and escape, but Batman quickly incapacitated them as well. No innocents here, he thought grimly. Off in the distance, he heard sirens rapidly approaching, so he fired his grappling gun and proceeded to make his escape.

"Just heard on the dispatch, they took everyone into custody," Lieutenant Gordon said. "Looks like you took a close one."

"It's no problem," Batman replied, although he did take a step back. "Thank for the tip." The two of them were on the rooftop of a commercial building half a mile away, under a sky touched by a hint of approaching dawn.

"Tip? What tip?" Gordon chuckled mirthlessly. The former-Judge Faden had never authorized wiretaps in that section of town, but a few good cops had done it anyway, a desperate measure in their war against the Falcone Family. Now the war was turning, but they still hadn't received proper warrants, and what Gordon had heard yesterday was too tempting to not use.

"You sure Alberto wasn't there?"

Batman shook his head. "Must've heard something himself. Looked like a set up—one of Falcone's men, the guy who runs gambling operations out of that nightclub, was already dead when I got there. I took out the henchmen, but their leader escaped."

Gordon thought it over. "Guess we're not the only ones trying to bring down the rest of Falcone's empire."

Batman scowled. "Turf war."

"About all we can do is try and keep it from spilling out too much."

"Keep feeding me the info, and I'll do what I can."

Gordon smiled. "Keep saying that, and I will." Without a word Batman turned and ran off into the darkness. In the past few months since they formed their partnership, the Batman had proved an ever-increasingly useful ally, helping to break up criminal operations that the police were either unable or (unfortunately) still unwilling to stop. In public Commissioner Loeb continued to denounce 'masked vigilantes', but the less than diligent pursuit of the Caped Crusader ever since told Gordon all he needed about his true feelings.

Still, a gnawing sense of doubt lingered in the back of his head. However useful--even essential--Batman was, he was a rogue cannon, about whom Jim knew nothing. He decided not to poke around too hard, so as not to alienate his secret ally, but he couldn't discount the possibility that one day, perhaps, the Batman would go too far. After all, a man who dresses up in a costume and runs around at night risking his life fighting crime hand to hand--something can't be right upstairs, can it? He didn't have an answer.

Sighing, he began climbing down the stairwell to get to his car. I hope it works out...

"You're lucky I don't shoot messengers. Get out of here." Without another word, Rico bowed and fled the dark and crowded room.

He leaned back in his seat and said nothing. Around the poker table, taciturn figures with hard looks on their faces stared back at him. The air was thick with smoke and tinged by the acrid smell of stale drinks. Finally, someone dared to break the brittle silence.

"Someone ratted us out."

He shook his head. "Impossible, my source was impeccable. He must've gotten cold feet. These days the Falcones are jumpy as all hell. Just bad luck."

One of the men fidgeted, loosening his tie as he said: "Maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe it's too risky, taking them on now."

He shook his head decisively. "Now's the perfect time, the police are going hard after them, and the head of their Family is out of play indefinitely."

"It's true," said another, an ally of his. "I've heard he's completely lost it, that he's up in Arkham being fed with a spoon and wearing diapers!"

Everyone laughed at that image, though not without a bit of nervousness. Until recently, no sane man would laugh at Carmine Falcone, no matter where they were.

"It ain't true," someone else said. "I heard he's going to be released tomorrow." There was consternated motion by those at the table.

"Whatever happens, their whole operation is on the defensive," he said cuttingly. "Now is the time to strike, if we do this right, after the smoke clears we'll be on top running Gotham."

"And what about what Rico said? What about the Bat? Not only did he know about our hit, he was the guy who took down Falcone in the first place!"

He snorted. "'Batman', you're actually worried about this wacko? Who is he, some rogue undercover cop? Look, it's clear what this guy's doing, taking care of the police's dirty work." Shaking his head, he continued: "Yeah, he got Carmine, but the Roman got sloppy, never should have put himself in a position to get tied to his own job in the first place. And besides, for the time being the Bat is helping us as well. 'Enemy of my enemy' and all that." He leaned forward and pounded the table. "All the more reason we carry on as planned."

There were increasing murmurs of agreement. "So, do I have everyone's approval?" There was unanimous nods. "Good, then tonight was merely a setback, we continue on. Good day, gentlemen."

They all rose to their feet. "Good bye, Mister Thorne."

In Judge McKenna's chambers, Carmine Falcone babbled.

He also screamed. And twitched. At irregular intervals on the TV screen, he would shake his head violently to and fro. Strapped into his chair, sometimes he would start laughing, cursing or weeping. His mutterings were indistinct.

Anthony Carazzano, Falcone's attorney, switched off the TV and said to the judge: "As you can see, Mr. Falcone's condition has not improved under the negligent treatment of the staff of Arkham Asylum and Gotham law enforcement. Your Honor, I ask that you grant us our motion to dismiss the charges against Mr. Falcone as he is not competent to stand trial."

Acting District Attorney Rachel Dawes did not react at all, merely saying: "Your Honor, Dr. Strange has carried out a complete physical and psychological exam of the defendant, and while in this video the defense counsel has provided the defendant may appear to be incompetent to stand trial, he is making progress towards recovery. It is the State's view that more time be allowed before making a decision with regards to his competency to stand trial."

Judge Jennifer McKenna, a stern, fair-haired woman, turned to Carazzano and said, "What does the defense have to say?"

Carazzano smiled and said, "I merely need restate the facts of the case: that under highly dubious circumstances--"

"Your Honor," Rachel angrily interrupted, "the details of the defendant's arrest are irrelevant at this hearing!"

Without batting an eye Carazzano continued: "--while under examination by the chief psychiatrist of Arkham Asylum my client was poisoned with a hallucinogenic compound which medical experts have testified can result in severe if not permanent brain damage. As Crane's replacement, even now we have concerns regarding Dr. Strange's background as well."

She retorted: "As you know, Your Honor, the medical experts retained by defense all work in hospitals owned by business associated with the Falcone family!"

This shut Carazzano up. Pausing, he continued: "Be that as it may, I believe we are making a very reasonable request. We agreed to have this evidentiary hearing behind closed doors so as not to taint any potential jurors, even though it is our right to have this evidence entered into public record. This recording speaks for itself--whatever may have happened before, my client is in no shape to stand trial for the foreseeable future."

Judge McKenna considered, then said: "Mr. Carazzano, at this time I do not have enough information one way or the other to agree to dismiss the case on competency grounds. Mr. Falcone will remain in the care of Arkham Asylum, and we will reconvene in three months time in order to further ascertain his mental state."

Frowning, Carazzano replied: "Very well, Your Honor, but I then ask that medical experts retained by the defense be allowed to monitor Mr. Falcone's condition at all times."

Judge McKenna said, "I am willing to agree to such terms if the State will agree?"

Dawes considered, then said: "We agree provided that appropriate security measures are taken with regards to any medical staff retained by defense."

"Objection, Your Honor--"

"Overruled. This meeting is adjourned."

As they stepped out of the judge's chamber, Rachel couldn't help but remark: "Mr. Carazzano, off the record, I'd be real careful with your defense strategy. Mr. Falcone's 'associates' would not appreciate being led by a mental cripple. Better check the background of those experts very carefully."

Smiling sweetly, he replied: "Off rhe record, Ms. Dawes, you're in way over your head. And my client had nothing to do with the activities on that dock, it was all a set up by Gotham Police's favorite-son, the Batman--"

"Batman didn't set him up, he caught Falcone redhanded," she replied, more vehemently than she wanted to.

"Let's see if you can prove it beyond a reasonable doubt. Good day, Ms. Dawes."

As Rachel watched him turn a corner and disappear, she chided herself for reacting so overtly to the mention of Batman. Thrust into the role of DA while the city tried to settle down after the 'Arkham Incident', as it was now being called, she had to maneuver a fine line between those who wanted Batman stopped... and her own feelings. Feelings of sympathy, of compassion, and understanding. Of concern, fear and regret.

Sensational news of Batman's continuing exploits filled her heart with terribly conflicted emotions: on the one hand, fear for his safety, on the other admiration for his dedication to justice and not mere revenge. But his extralegal activities also meant that, increasingly, defense attorneys were using Batman's actions as reasons to dismiss cases due to illegal procedures. So far her office had been able to secure convictions anyway, but it was only a matter of time before a criminal brought in by Batman would, tragically, be released by him as well. When that happens, I may have to stand against Batman... against Bruce.

Her duty to the law was increasingly at war with the calls of her heart.

Will he ever come back? She liked to think that if Gotham could be set right by the powers above, if Bruce could see the system of justice working again, maybe that would be enough to make him put down the mask and return to her. But she also knew--better than almost anyone else--how deeply wounded he was by his parents' deaths, and that ultimately, Batman was but the surface manifestation of his permanently scarred soul. At least he didn't say no when I suggested that once Gotham no longer needed Batman the man I loved might return.

Based on that slimmest of reeds, she still held out hope for Bruce. For Batman.