Chapter Ten

"What's the problem, Nocturne? I didn't expect this to take so long."

Not many people would be aware of what he's feeling, but I have begun to realize this situation is more serious to him than it seemed at first. I know he may really be in danger, and I can tell he's beginning to consider the possibility too. How I know what he's thinking, I'm not sure. It's nothing in his voice, or the way he moves – he's far too practiced at controlling himself. But I can still feel it with that simple sense that has always kept me alive.

I run it down for him. "Problem one – they've got enough money to protect themselves well. Problem two – as odd as it is, this whole Batman thing is brilliant. He's completely unconnected so there's nothing to trace between him and anyone else. Problem three – as far as I can tell the police are not being paid off. They don't all like him, but… it seems to have something to do with his alliance with that Captain Gordon. They're mostly willing to leave him alone because of it – the good cops, of course. The ones on the take would love to kill him. And problem four – he inspires real loyalty. I've talked to a dozen people on the streets – shopkeepers and bar owners, hookers and newsstand workers – the people no one pays attention to, but they see everything that happens on the street. He meets with them to get information. They not only don't know who he is, they don't want to know. They don't want him to be a man – they believe in the Dark Knight."

"What?"

"Some tabloid started calling him that, but lots of people on the street have picked it up."

Fagen shakes his head in disgust. "That's what you've come up with for his support system? Where's the money coming from?"

"Like I said. Nothing to trace. Yet."

He looks at me questioningly.

"I've reprogrammed my tracking system to recognize the car. Up till now I've not been able to track it. It's still spotty – difficult to follow with all the activity at street level. But I've been able to confirm that his base is not within the city itself, and I think I've found a way to at least get a sensor on the car, one small enough to get through its security system. That might get me the home base, wherever it is, or enough to find something on who built the car. And then I can find who paid for it."

"You can't get a tracker on a car? Or him? You haven't found a base of operations? I thought you were supposed to be one of the best black operatives we have."

"There's nobody I can't get to, given the time." Now, he's pissing me off. "From what you gave me I expected to find some pattern to lead me to the power behind him. But there isn't one. So, it's going to take a little longer. Don't push, John. If I step out of the shadows and this guy gets a bead on me – and he just might, he's very, very good – then it's all up and you'll have to start over. The kind of money he's working with…"

"Can't be hidden!" He almost shouts, but controls himself at the last moment.

"Yes, it can," I say calmly, "– if the money is not the important thing. Look, I think you need to consider the possibility that we are dealing with something out of the ordinary here. People not working from normal motivations."

"What are you talking about?"

"There is a kind of power play at work here – but it's not the one you think."

"Then what is it?" He is perfectly cool again.

"We may be dealing with some kind of, I don't know – fanatics. I can just feel it, everything about him. There is some very personal reason behind all this. Some belief. And it's not about making money or gaining political power."

"No one spends this kind of money on a operation if not to gain an advantage," he insists. "So, what are they gaining from it?"

"Well, what I think he's after is … justice."

Fagen frowns. "Justice? Are you starting to believe the tabloids too?"

I spread my hands, "Just telling you what I've found."

He shakes his head angrily, "No. That can't be it! Taking Callas out, coming after me; it leaves too much of an opportunity for someone else to take over whole sections of business in the city. And no one with the kind of money he has behind him would have a reason to do all this for…justice." He sounds scornful.

Good point.

I consider him for a moment, then say reasonably, "I think you should just let me take him out. It would give me his identity, plus whatever he has on him – which might be enough to lead to the money. Regardless, the powers that be would be hard pressed to replace him. This is no ordinary man. Trust me."

"I trust you," he growls. "What makes you think you can kill him? Bastard seems immortal. There are three multi-million dollar contracts on him and he's still alive. I also know of at least one bounty hunter, Richard Mosana no less, who quit the business after an encounter with him."

"Mosana?" I raise an eyebrow, but then I scoff. "I'm no bounty hunter. Has there ever been anybody I couldn't kill? I've been tailing him for two weeks. There were three times last night alone when I could have taken him down with a single shot."

He looks at me with that stare of…ownership. I realize how much I hate this man. Come on, you bloodthirsty bastard. Tell me I can just kill him and get the hell out of here.

"It might lead to the money. And it might not. I need information, Nocturne. I'm losing influence over this – can't control my own city. And he interferes nightly with half my interests in Gotham."

I can't help smiling though I know it will anger him, "I know. I've been watching him do it."

"I want it stopped. But I have to know who is responsible. It might not even be necessary to destroy them – in fact it would be a waste. Information. I need to know."

"That takes time, John."

"Time is a funny thing," he says, eyes so cold I truly wonder for a moment if he has a soul, "it has a way of running out on you. Am I making myself clear?"

Yeah, I get it already – it's me or Gotham. Guess who wins that toss up? "Of course. I will find what you need."