Riddled With Bullets
Chapter Two
"Shark Infested Custard."
"Miss Barbara are you sure this is wise?"
"I'm fine Alfred."
But Barbara's eyes Alfred noted, told another story. They were teary red from crying. Her face was firmly fixed into a grim mask of resolve, as she navigated her wheelchair up the ramp and into the nerve centre of the online presence known as Oracle.
Standing awkwardly to one side Dinah exchanged shrugs with Alfred as Barbara busied herself grappling with mouse and keyboard as she scanned the vast reams of data on the large monitor before her.
There was a long moment of awkward silence.
"And where's Helena?" Barbara's tone was sharp.
Dinah shifted around uncomfortably. Her psychic ability was picking up some very grim vibes from Barbara's direction. She made no attempt to answer so Barbara spun her chair round to face her an expectant glare playing across her face. It was the sort of behaviour Dinah would later reflect that was more typical of Helena at the build up to one of her tantrums, but from Barbara it was a very cold unnerving quality.
"She's offline at present," Dinah lamely attempted to explain.
"That's not what I asked," Barbara snapped, "I can see she has been offline all night, what I want to know is where she is."
Dinah shrugged, "perhaps she's with Reese."
"According to the Police Department roster he's on duty."
"Probably there idea of a hot date?"
Dinah knew this was a mistake as soon as she said it. Lately it seemed that Barbara's reception to humour or anything vaguely resembling its like was met with either a shrug or an icy glare. Or if you really caught her at a bad time, like right now, a combination of both.
Shaking her head, Barbara returned to the monitor and its multiple streams of data.
"Great!" She muttered, "We have a major super villain at large, and she's decided to goof off!"
"You mean The Puzzler?" Dinah asked incredulously.
"The Riddler." Barbara corrected.
"Whatever," Dinah shrugged, "But he hasn't done anything wrong."
"Yet!" Barbara cut her off.
"If I may say Miss Barbara," Alfred interjected, "whilst Mr Nygma's release is a matter of some concern it would appear that at present, his attention is diverted elsewhere."
"Yep," Barbara nodded, "That's usually how it starts."
"I can assure you Miss Barbara, that Miss Dinah has done an excellent job of holding the fort." Alfred persisted, "and indeed one fails to see why on a night such as this she should not continue."
"Meaning I should butt out right?" Barbara glared.
"Barbara, it's a quiet night," Dinah stated, "I can handle it."
"And so can I!" Barbara's tone was full of venom.
Dinah was rapidly reaching the end of her patience. For days now everyone had been treading on eggshells around Barbara. Frightened to say or do the wrong thing. But enough she decided was enough, Wade like her mother, was yet another casualty of their private war. He wasn't coming back, and his killer was locked up where she belonged.
"Barbara no one's saying you can't.." Dinah floundered looking to Alfred for support, she knew what had to be said but couldn't bring herself to do it. For a fleeting moment the idea that if it were up to Helena she would just come right out and say it flashed through her mind as she searched for the words.
"Barbara," Dinah continued "ever since."
"Since what?" Barbara challenged, again spinning the chair round to confront her.
Dinah looked towards Alfred, who nodded his support, as if to say, "go on she needs to hear it."
"Things have been quiet ever since we took down Dr Quinzel," Dinah heard herself say, "there is no more big bad!"
There she had said it! Done the unthinkable! By naming Wades killer in Barbara's presence she had spoken the unspeakable! Barbara it seemed was just as shocked as she was, you didn't have to be psychic to see that she was lost for words.
It took a few seconds but she collected herself, taking a deep breath whilst her face reassembled itself into that mask of grim resolve that had lately proved to be the grand harbinger of bad atmospheres.
Abruptly Barbara spun back round to face her monitor.
"Taking down the big bad is one thing," she stated almost spitting out the words "Big Bad," in between mouse clicks and keyboard strokes, "But now we have a different problem," she continued, "we have a power vacuum amongst the crime syndicates of New Gotham, either they will splinter, or someone else will step in." She paused, "It's just a matter of time."
Suddenly Edward Nygma's file appeared up on the monitor, and again there was a picture of The Riddler grinning away in that ridiculous looking leotard.
"And you think it's gonna be him?" Dinah snorted in disbelief, "What's he gonna do Riddle us to death?"
"He's tried to do exactly that on many occasions, that cane of his for example, can fire bullets fully automatic at a rate of 100 rounds per minute. 40 rounds semi."
She paused to let that sink in, "It's custom made and there were only two ever produced, one is currently in the cave's trophy room." She meant the Bat Cave under Wayne manor.
"And the other?" Dinah enquired.
Barbara's fingers tapped out a beat on the keyboard.
"Evidence vault at the old Gotham Central Police Department Headquarters," She replied bringing up the information.
Barbara sat back with a look of triumph, "it went missing over a month ago."
******
Little Helena Kyle aged seven was far too excited to sleep. She was waiting to see Uncle Edward, and she was sure that he was coming.
In fact she knew it in her heart.
It was at times like these he arrived in the middle of the night and made her laugh keeping her awake with a constant stream of riddles, jokes, and puzzles. Until Mummy would tell them both to keep the noise down and Uncle Edward would have
To go and sleep in the secret room where Mummy kept the old clothes, the ones she swore she would never wear again.
Helena's first inkling of Uncle Edward's impending visit had come during his sudden appearance on television tonight. He was what the presenter's of the Gotham news bulletin referred to as "a breaking story."
They showed as they always did when featuring Uncle Edward, an old picture of him not smiling but holding up a board with a series of numbers. The stern voiceover as usual stressed, "Do not approach, the suspect is considered armed and dangerous."
As usual Mummy when quizzed about the possibility of a visit from Uncle Edward, was non-committal.
"Go to sleep," she told her sternly. "Isis," she added addressing the large dark grey cat snuggled at the foot of the bed, "keep an eye on her."
But little Helena had long since made the connection between her Uncle's mugshot plastered all over primetime viewing, and his infrequent visits. And to Helena the anticipation could not have been greater than if she was waiting for Santa.
However, in spite of all this sleep eventually claimed her as she drifted off to dreamland amid the low humming sounds of Isis contented purrs. Only to be rudely awoken sometime later by the clanging sounds of the doorbell. Followed quickly by Mummy's voice.
Leaping out of bed little Helena crept to her vantage point on the landing where she was certain she couldn't be seen.
It was Uncle Edward!
He was standing in the doorway wearing the smelly grey clothes he often wore on visits like these. Occasionally he wore the funny green ones but they usually smelled okay.
".really should've stayed put this time Eddie." Mummy was saying shaking her head.
"What can I say?" Uncle Edward replied, "You know how it is, the opportunity was there so I took it."
Selena Kyle formerly known as Catwoman did know exactly "how it is" all too well.
"Just for a couple of days Selena, please, for old times sake?"
Shrugging resignedly Selena moved to one side allowing Edward Nygma, AKA The Riddler, currently New Gotham's most wanted to cross the threshold.
"They'll throw away the key this time." She warned as she double locked the door.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Uncle Edward sighed, seemingly unconcerned as he breezed into the room.
Helena noticed he was carrying a package.
"And how is my little princess?" He beamed, and then looking straight in the direction of Helena's hiding place he added, "safely tucked up in bed I hope."
Helena did her best to suppress a little giggle. But failed.
Mummy was frowning at the package.
"I bought her a little something," Uncle Edward explained.
"So I see," Mummy said her large bright green eyes expressing rank disapproval.
Uncle Edward sighed with exasperation, "Will you relax? I said I bought it didn't I? I was gonna put it in the mail but seeing as I was in the neighbourhood."
"Okay, okay." Selena Kyle held up her hands in defeat.
Uncle Edward had now reached the stairs, "But it's only for good little girls that are tucked up in bed!"
Helena scrambled to her feet and bolted for her bed. Isis who had been slumbering peacefully, or perhaps that should be cat napping almost jumped out of his skin.
"Helena, princess?"
Helena almost did the same as she was disturbed from her memories and suddenly brought back to the present to find Uncle Edward poised over her glass, offering a refill.
Helena politely refused, painfully aware that she would have to make some attempt at going out on patrol tonight or else risk Barbara's wrath.
"I'm sorry I never got in touch," Uncle Edward explained awkwardly, "I just felt that now that you're older, well I figured you might be ashamed of me."
"Why would you think that?"
Uncle Edward hesitated, and then sat himself beside her on the couch.
"Helena, I did some bad things."
"So have I!" Helena said, "If you read my letters you would know!"
"Letters?" Confusion was a feeling The Riddler often inflicted but seldom experienced.
Helena studied him for a moment; he seemed as genuinely confused as she was hurt. But of course she had seen him like this before, only once, the last time they had met.
"Helena," Edward said slowly, "I didn't get any letters."
This was unexpected, when Helena had seen her Uncle on the news bulletins earlier, it had brought up a flood of emotions, and a treasure trove of buried memories. All at once the part of her that retained her childhood feelings was excited and happy for her Uncle, and the part of her that was colder, adult, world-weary and cynical was mad as hell.
A quick call to Reese had yielded Nygma's current address and then she had made her preparations.
The very last time Helena had seen her Uncle Edward, was at her mother's funeral. Having obtained the necessary permission from Arkham Asylum, Uncle Edward had arrived cuffed to a large, burly, guard, with several others in tow, hanging back in order to maintain a respectful distance from the proceedings.
After the funeral they had barely given Uncle Edward enough time to offer his condolences before ushering him away to an armoured vehicle and back to his cell at Arkham.
He had stood awkwardly before the grieving, angst ridden, young lady, wearing the same look of confusion that Helena could see on him now.
"The last time I saw you," Helena blurted, "you told me that if I needed anything, I could always come to you!"
"I meant it Helena, your family to me!"
"I wrote to you so many times!" A tear rolled down Helena's cheek, "and all I got was nothing!" She stood up.
Edward followed his niece and tried to hug her but she shook him off.
"You didn't get my letters?" She snapped.
"No Helena I didn't." And he didn't flinch.
"Not even when I wrote to you from Juvie?"
"You were in Juvie?"
"I damaged a fire hydrant!" Helena said dismissively.
"A fire hydrant?" Uncle Edward's face broke into a grin.
"It's not funny!" Helena shoved him playfully trying to suppress a giggle and failing.
But Edward Nygma was helpless with laughter, and Helena was quick to follow.
"Oh Helena," Edward sighed as the laughter died down, "I haven't laughed so much since, since the time you put Isis in the dishwasher!"
And he was off again tears streaming down his face as he fell back on the couch convulsed in hysterics.
"I didn't put him there." Helena gasped between laughs, "he was asleep!"
"It was the last time your mother ever asked you to help out!"
Abruptly the laughter stopped at the mention of the dead. A moment of awkward silence ensued.
"I've missed you Uncle Edward." Helena sighed.
"Me too princess," Uncle Edward reached out for a hug and this time Helena did not resist.
"I can't look at a puzzle book or a crossword without thinking of you." Helena began to blub again.
Uncle Edward stood back to look at his niece, a pang of regret crossed his heart, she had grown up and he had missed it!
"What's yellow and has fins?" He smirked, determined not to let the mood get the better of him.
Then they both said at once, "SHARK INFESTED CUSTARD!"
And the laughter began again, as Edward fell back on the couch but this time taking Helena with him. They were a tangled mess of arms and legs as amid hysterical laughter they both tried to sit up straight. And just for a very brief time, the child in Helena Kyle took over and she was seven years old again, and her world a bright and happy place.
******
Detective Jesse Reese didn't mind his weird reputation at the New Gotham Police Department one bit. He got results and that was all that mattered. Tonight he had turned up to his shift and found a large black X made of industrial strength black tape, plastered over his office door. It took him a moment to get the joke, after all he hadn't seen much TV of late, and since the change of cast on that particular show it had never been the same as far as Reese was concerned.
Nevertheless with his growing reputation for delving into the weird side of New Gotham's underworld he could appreciate fully the irony of being tagged as New Gotham's equivalent of Fox Mulder.
"Funny guys," he smiled to the rest of his giggling department.
"Well all that's needed is to partner you with someone pretty and then we've got the set!" Quipped Sergeant Merkel escorting a drunk and disorderly to an awaiting cell.
"Funny," Reese replied with a glance at his usual partner McNally who was stuffing his face with Do-nut's, "I've been saying the same thing for years!"
The rest of the evening had been pretty quiet. In fact since the apprehension of Dr Quinzel you could say things had been a bit too quiet. There was a mound full of paperwork to catch up on so Reese having grabbed him self a mocha and scolded McNally for not leaving him any Do-nut's set to work.
So absorbed was he in trying to write up a way overdue report on Chris Cassius in a style that avoided any reference to meta human crime activity, (how do you explain that the victim had been turned into clay without sounding like a bad X-File plot?) That he barely noticed the delivery boy and the package that was left on his desk. Almost absentmindedly he signed for it, barely looking up before returning to the task at hand. The package meanwhile sat quietly on the edge the desk.
Well almost.
It took a few seconds, but Reese finally realised it was ticking.
*****
Chapter Two
"Shark Infested Custard."
"Miss Barbara are you sure this is wise?"
"I'm fine Alfred."
But Barbara's eyes Alfred noted, told another story. They were teary red from crying. Her face was firmly fixed into a grim mask of resolve, as she navigated her wheelchair up the ramp and into the nerve centre of the online presence known as Oracle.
Standing awkwardly to one side Dinah exchanged shrugs with Alfred as Barbara busied herself grappling with mouse and keyboard as she scanned the vast reams of data on the large monitor before her.
There was a long moment of awkward silence.
"And where's Helena?" Barbara's tone was sharp.
Dinah shifted around uncomfortably. Her psychic ability was picking up some very grim vibes from Barbara's direction. She made no attempt to answer so Barbara spun her chair round to face her an expectant glare playing across her face. It was the sort of behaviour Dinah would later reflect that was more typical of Helena at the build up to one of her tantrums, but from Barbara it was a very cold unnerving quality.
"She's offline at present," Dinah lamely attempted to explain.
"That's not what I asked," Barbara snapped, "I can see she has been offline all night, what I want to know is where she is."
Dinah shrugged, "perhaps she's with Reese."
"According to the Police Department roster he's on duty."
"Probably there idea of a hot date?"
Dinah knew this was a mistake as soon as she said it. Lately it seemed that Barbara's reception to humour or anything vaguely resembling its like was met with either a shrug or an icy glare. Or if you really caught her at a bad time, like right now, a combination of both.
Shaking her head, Barbara returned to the monitor and its multiple streams of data.
"Great!" She muttered, "We have a major super villain at large, and she's decided to goof off!"
"You mean The Puzzler?" Dinah asked incredulously.
"The Riddler." Barbara corrected.
"Whatever," Dinah shrugged, "But he hasn't done anything wrong."
"Yet!" Barbara cut her off.
"If I may say Miss Barbara," Alfred interjected, "whilst Mr Nygma's release is a matter of some concern it would appear that at present, his attention is diverted elsewhere."
"Yep," Barbara nodded, "That's usually how it starts."
"I can assure you Miss Barbara, that Miss Dinah has done an excellent job of holding the fort." Alfred persisted, "and indeed one fails to see why on a night such as this she should not continue."
"Meaning I should butt out right?" Barbara glared.
"Barbara, it's a quiet night," Dinah stated, "I can handle it."
"And so can I!" Barbara's tone was full of venom.
Dinah was rapidly reaching the end of her patience. For days now everyone had been treading on eggshells around Barbara. Frightened to say or do the wrong thing. But enough she decided was enough, Wade like her mother, was yet another casualty of their private war. He wasn't coming back, and his killer was locked up where she belonged.
"Barbara no one's saying you can't.." Dinah floundered looking to Alfred for support, she knew what had to be said but couldn't bring herself to do it. For a fleeting moment the idea that if it were up to Helena she would just come right out and say it flashed through her mind as she searched for the words.
"Barbara," Dinah continued "ever since."
"Since what?" Barbara challenged, again spinning the chair round to confront her.
Dinah looked towards Alfred, who nodded his support, as if to say, "go on she needs to hear it."
"Things have been quiet ever since we took down Dr Quinzel," Dinah heard herself say, "there is no more big bad!"
There she had said it! Done the unthinkable! By naming Wades killer in Barbara's presence she had spoken the unspeakable! Barbara it seemed was just as shocked as she was, you didn't have to be psychic to see that she was lost for words.
It took a few seconds but she collected herself, taking a deep breath whilst her face reassembled itself into that mask of grim resolve that had lately proved to be the grand harbinger of bad atmospheres.
Abruptly Barbara spun back round to face her monitor.
"Taking down the big bad is one thing," she stated almost spitting out the words "Big Bad," in between mouse clicks and keyboard strokes, "But now we have a different problem," she continued, "we have a power vacuum amongst the crime syndicates of New Gotham, either they will splinter, or someone else will step in." She paused, "It's just a matter of time."
Suddenly Edward Nygma's file appeared up on the monitor, and again there was a picture of The Riddler grinning away in that ridiculous looking leotard.
"And you think it's gonna be him?" Dinah snorted in disbelief, "What's he gonna do Riddle us to death?"
"He's tried to do exactly that on many occasions, that cane of his for example, can fire bullets fully automatic at a rate of 100 rounds per minute. 40 rounds semi."
She paused to let that sink in, "It's custom made and there were only two ever produced, one is currently in the cave's trophy room." She meant the Bat Cave under Wayne manor.
"And the other?" Dinah enquired.
Barbara's fingers tapped out a beat on the keyboard.
"Evidence vault at the old Gotham Central Police Department Headquarters," She replied bringing up the information.
Barbara sat back with a look of triumph, "it went missing over a month ago."
******
Little Helena Kyle aged seven was far too excited to sleep. She was waiting to see Uncle Edward, and she was sure that he was coming.
In fact she knew it in her heart.
It was at times like these he arrived in the middle of the night and made her laugh keeping her awake with a constant stream of riddles, jokes, and puzzles. Until Mummy would tell them both to keep the noise down and Uncle Edward would have
To go and sleep in the secret room where Mummy kept the old clothes, the ones she swore she would never wear again.
Helena's first inkling of Uncle Edward's impending visit had come during his sudden appearance on television tonight. He was what the presenter's of the Gotham news bulletin referred to as "a breaking story."
They showed as they always did when featuring Uncle Edward, an old picture of him not smiling but holding up a board with a series of numbers. The stern voiceover as usual stressed, "Do not approach, the suspect is considered armed and dangerous."
As usual Mummy when quizzed about the possibility of a visit from Uncle Edward, was non-committal.
"Go to sleep," she told her sternly. "Isis," she added addressing the large dark grey cat snuggled at the foot of the bed, "keep an eye on her."
But little Helena had long since made the connection between her Uncle's mugshot plastered all over primetime viewing, and his infrequent visits. And to Helena the anticipation could not have been greater than if she was waiting for Santa.
However, in spite of all this sleep eventually claimed her as she drifted off to dreamland amid the low humming sounds of Isis contented purrs. Only to be rudely awoken sometime later by the clanging sounds of the doorbell. Followed quickly by Mummy's voice.
Leaping out of bed little Helena crept to her vantage point on the landing where she was certain she couldn't be seen.
It was Uncle Edward!
He was standing in the doorway wearing the smelly grey clothes he often wore on visits like these. Occasionally he wore the funny green ones but they usually smelled okay.
".really should've stayed put this time Eddie." Mummy was saying shaking her head.
"What can I say?" Uncle Edward replied, "You know how it is, the opportunity was there so I took it."
Selena Kyle formerly known as Catwoman did know exactly "how it is" all too well.
"Just for a couple of days Selena, please, for old times sake?"
Shrugging resignedly Selena moved to one side allowing Edward Nygma, AKA The Riddler, currently New Gotham's most wanted to cross the threshold.
"They'll throw away the key this time." She warned as she double locked the door.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Uncle Edward sighed, seemingly unconcerned as he breezed into the room.
Helena noticed he was carrying a package.
"And how is my little princess?" He beamed, and then looking straight in the direction of Helena's hiding place he added, "safely tucked up in bed I hope."
Helena did her best to suppress a little giggle. But failed.
Mummy was frowning at the package.
"I bought her a little something," Uncle Edward explained.
"So I see," Mummy said her large bright green eyes expressing rank disapproval.
Uncle Edward sighed with exasperation, "Will you relax? I said I bought it didn't I? I was gonna put it in the mail but seeing as I was in the neighbourhood."
"Okay, okay." Selena Kyle held up her hands in defeat.
Uncle Edward had now reached the stairs, "But it's only for good little girls that are tucked up in bed!"
Helena scrambled to her feet and bolted for her bed. Isis who had been slumbering peacefully, or perhaps that should be cat napping almost jumped out of his skin.
"Helena, princess?"
Helena almost did the same as she was disturbed from her memories and suddenly brought back to the present to find Uncle Edward poised over her glass, offering a refill.
Helena politely refused, painfully aware that she would have to make some attempt at going out on patrol tonight or else risk Barbara's wrath.
"I'm sorry I never got in touch," Uncle Edward explained awkwardly, "I just felt that now that you're older, well I figured you might be ashamed of me."
"Why would you think that?"
Uncle Edward hesitated, and then sat himself beside her on the couch.
"Helena, I did some bad things."
"So have I!" Helena said, "If you read my letters you would know!"
"Letters?" Confusion was a feeling The Riddler often inflicted but seldom experienced.
Helena studied him for a moment; he seemed as genuinely confused as she was hurt. But of course she had seen him like this before, only once, the last time they had met.
"Helena," Edward said slowly, "I didn't get any letters."
This was unexpected, when Helena had seen her Uncle on the news bulletins earlier, it had brought up a flood of emotions, and a treasure trove of buried memories. All at once the part of her that retained her childhood feelings was excited and happy for her Uncle, and the part of her that was colder, adult, world-weary and cynical was mad as hell.
A quick call to Reese had yielded Nygma's current address and then she had made her preparations.
The very last time Helena had seen her Uncle Edward, was at her mother's funeral. Having obtained the necessary permission from Arkham Asylum, Uncle Edward had arrived cuffed to a large, burly, guard, with several others in tow, hanging back in order to maintain a respectful distance from the proceedings.
After the funeral they had barely given Uncle Edward enough time to offer his condolences before ushering him away to an armoured vehicle and back to his cell at Arkham.
He had stood awkwardly before the grieving, angst ridden, young lady, wearing the same look of confusion that Helena could see on him now.
"The last time I saw you," Helena blurted, "you told me that if I needed anything, I could always come to you!"
"I meant it Helena, your family to me!"
"I wrote to you so many times!" A tear rolled down Helena's cheek, "and all I got was nothing!" She stood up.
Edward followed his niece and tried to hug her but she shook him off.
"You didn't get my letters?" She snapped.
"No Helena I didn't." And he didn't flinch.
"Not even when I wrote to you from Juvie?"
"You were in Juvie?"
"I damaged a fire hydrant!" Helena said dismissively.
"A fire hydrant?" Uncle Edward's face broke into a grin.
"It's not funny!" Helena shoved him playfully trying to suppress a giggle and failing.
But Edward Nygma was helpless with laughter, and Helena was quick to follow.
"Oh Helena," Edward sighed as the laughter died down, "I haven't laughed so much since, since the time you put Isis in the dishwasher!"
And he was off again tears streaming down his face as he fell back on the couch convulsed in hysterics.
"I didn't put him there." Helena gasped between laughs, "he was asleep!"
"It was the last time your mother ever asked you to help out!"
Abruptly the laughter stopped at the mention of the dead. A moment of awkward silence ensued.
"I've missed you Uncle Edward." Helena sighed.
"Me too princess," Uncle Edward reached out for a hug and this time Helena did not resist.
"I can't look at a puzzle book or a crossword without thinking of you." Helena began to blub again.
Uncle Edward stood back to look at his niece, a pang of regret crossed his heart, she had grown up and he had missed it!
"What's yellow and has fins?" He smirked, determined not to let the mood get the better of him.
Then they both said at once, "SHARK INFESTED CUSTARD!"
And the laughter began again, as Edward fell back on the couch but this time taking Helena with him. They were a tangled mess of arms and legs as amid hysterical laughter they both tried to sit up straight. And just for a very brief time, the child in Helena Kyle took over and she was seven years old again, and her world a bright and happy place.
******
Detective Jesse Reese didn't mind his weird reputation at the New Gotham Police Department one bit. He got results and that was all that mattered. Tonight he had turned up to his shift and found a large black X made of industrial strength black tape, plastered over his office door. It took him a moment to get the joke, after all he hadn't seen much TV of late, and since the change of cast on that particular show it had never been the same as far as Reese was concerned.
Nevertheless with his growing reputation for delving into the weird side of New Gotham's underworld he could appreciate fully the irony of being tagged as New Gotham's equivalent of Fox Mulder.
"Funny guys," he smiled to the rest of his giggling department.
"Well all that's needed is to partner you with someone pretty and then we've got the set!" Quipped Sergeant Merkel escorting a drunk and disorderly to an awaiting cell.
"Funny," Reese replied with a glance at his usual partner McNally who was stuffing his face with Do-nut's, "I've been saying the same thing for years!"
The rest of the evening had been pretty quiet. In fact since the apprehension of Dr Quinzel you could say things had been a bit too quiet. There was a mound full of paperwork to catch up on so Reese having grabbed him self a mocha and scolded McNally for not leaving him any Do-nut's set to work.
So absorbed was he in trying to write up a way overdue report on Chris Cassius in a style that avoided any reference to meta human crime activity, (how do you explain that the victim had been turned into clay without sounding like a bad X-File plot?) That he barely noticed the delivery boy and the package that was left on his desk. Almost absentmindedly he signed for it, barely looking up before returning to the task at hand. The package meanwhile sat quietly on the edge the desk.
Well almost.
It took a few seconds, but Reese finally realised it was ticking.
*****
