The Mayor was not happy with anybody, least of all Commissioner James Gordon. "What the hell are you doing traipsing across the city from crime scene to crime scene? Don't you have a sense of priority?" Mayor Garcia had eyelashes so thick and dark any woman would envy them, but right now his eyes were burning so intensely that those lashes should have been singed off. He faced Gordon across the expanse of his desk, glowering.
"I'm the detective with the most practical experience in all of Gotham City, and I'm doing my job. That is my priority!" Gordon replied. After a split second, he added, "Sir."
"Wrong. You were the most experienced detective. Now you're the Commissioner of Police. There's a bigger picture to consider, and in that picture, you let your subordinates take care of all the penny-ante stuff or you'll never get anything done."
"Penny-ante stuff like the scene at Gotham Central Subway Station yesterday? Should I have let my subordinates handle that?" Gordon knew he was dealing from a position of strength, as various local and national pundits had commented favorably on his handling of the situation and his leadership capabilities.
"No. I mean the triple slaying at—what was it? Mercier Modeling Bureau. Do you mean to tell me they couldn't have handled that without you?"
"The two cases are tied together." Gordon took a grim satisfaction in the expression on the Mayor's face. "We now have the names of nearly a thousand other at-risk girls—not to mention the fact that the Joker was responsible for those three killings."
"Then he was responsible for the Gotham Central tragedy?" Garcia seized on that.
"No. God help us, he's conducting his own investigation into the matter—and he's not taking any prisoners. We recovered a recording left at the scene. I brought a copy. You'd better have a look at it." Gordon crossed the office and put the disc in the office media center's DVD player.
The two men watched the events unfold onscreen. When it was finished, the mayor shook his head in disbelief. "They killed each other—over a pair of shoes? What happened to the third woman?"
"We're not sure. She was found dead in an adjoining room, her feet severed at the ankles. We don't have a murder weapon, a suspect, or the victim's feet. At this time, our best guess is that the Joker had a confederate hidden somewhere on the premises. He or she attacked and killed the third vic, Meriel Dobson, bundled up the weapon and the severed feet, then concealed themselves again until the police arrived, then made their way out in the commotion."
The mayor stared at his new-minted commissioner with disgust. "And you're admitting to that kind of laxity in your department?"
"The alternative, sir, is believing that those shoes ate Meriel Dobson's feet and then left the premises on their own—and I refuse to entertain that possibility for even a second."
Silence reigned for a moment in the Mayor's office. "That creature in the fright wig, that 'Grace'—she's been seen with the Joker on at least three occasions now. Are you any closer to tracking her down?" The topic of the shoes was to be dropped, apparently.
"No, sir. Real or fake, that hair conceals her identity to the point where we have no reliable identifications. However, we know this about her: she isn't Caucasian. Our belief is that she is either Asian or Hispanic."
"How do you know that?"
"The images are poor, but we noticed the difference in skin tone between 'Grace' and the three victims. They were white, and on the recording their skin looks mauve. Grace's skin has a greenish tone. We had several female detectives put on a sleeveless white top and then filmed them with the same camera under the same lighting conditions. Montoya and Thien were the closest matches."
"Well, keep that piece of information to yourself for now. The last thing we need is for racial tensions to be stirred up on top of everything else. What about this Allan Porter? Have you located him?"
"No, sir—or rather, we've located twenty-three of him so far. There are over ten million people in Gotham City, and neither Allan nor Porter are uncommon names. We're still trying to determine which, if any of them, is the right one."
"Keep looking," Mayor Garcia ordered. "Almost a thousand more at-risk girls--I'm canceling school tomorrow. It's too risky."
"I can't agree. If school is cancelled, where are these girls going to be? At home, alone. Most of their mothers work. Who'll be supervising them? If they're in school, then we know where they are." Gordon was a father, and knew something about parenting
"School will be cancelled tomorrow." Garcia wasn't about to budge, but he was a bachelor and had no clue.
"How long will it stay cancelled?" Gordon asked.
"Until I say so!" Garcia snapped back. "Is there anything else?"
"Yes. " Gordon steeled himself for what he was about to say. "I'm voiding the outstanding warrants for murder against Batman."
"What? Why?"
"Because Batman is not a murderer. Harvey Dent was responsible for those three deaths, and he will be charged accordingly."
"Harvey Dent is on an iron lung at the moment." Garcia retorted. "You're just going to throw him to the wolves?"
"We need Batman, sir. The Joker is too much for us to take on. If this were a game of chess, the Joker'd be a grand master—while we're just a winning high school chess club. He thinks several moves ahead of us and he's ruthless. What's more, I intend to deputize Batman."
"You're going beyond what I can swallow, Gordon."
"There's a statute dating back to 1837 which allows the Chief Magistrate, the role equivalent to mine, to deputize any able-bodied citizen to assist when the rule of law has collapsed and the public peace is in jeopardy. And nowhere does it say that the Mayor has to be consulted."
A/N: Bad week. Very bad week with a weird twitchy little boss. More updates soon.