Chapter Four

Encrypted Journal Entry -- Barbara Gordon

June 22nd

As I suspected, Canary's list of underworld contacts (her "little black book" … or rather beige, in this case) was located in the safety deposit box that was stipulated in her will.

We've found three men with names beginning with the letter "D" listed in the book:

David Alan Blackman -- 47, reformed petty thief and con artist, lives in Kent. He now sells large appliances at Circuit City.

Donald Ray Stephenson -- 39, has priors for grand theft auto, racketeering, and assault with a deadly weapon in Texas and Louisiana. Owns an auto body shop in Seattle.

Dominic Michael Santore -- 42, Vice-President of a "waste management" firm, lives in Seattle. For some reason, the guy just screams "Mob" (And I'm not talking about his Italian name either). I seriously doubt Canary would've been interested in him had he not been connected to the underworld in some form or another.

"Please come in," said Mr. Blackman as he showed Helena and Dinah through the front door of his tiny apartment. He was a short, wiry, balding man with a large forehead, beady brown eyes, and a small, hawk-like nose. Helena -- in her full black-leather Huntress attire -- walked in first, carrying a small brown paper bag with the name "BLACKMAN" written on the outside in black Magic Marker. Dinah followed Helena inside.

"Thank you," said Helena as Mr. Blackman closed the door behind the two. The living room was spartan -- a tattered sofa up against one wall, a matching overstuffed chair next to it, a beat up coffee table in the center of the room, and an ancient TV up against the opposite wall.

"Please, sit down," said Mr. Blackman as he gestured towards the sofa. "Can I get you two anything … coffee, tea, ice water?"

Helena and Dinah each took a seat on the sofa. "Some ice water, please," said Dinah.

"Same here," said Helena.

Mr. Blackman walked into the kitchen and returned a few minutes later carrying two glasses of ice water. He set them down on the coffee table in front of Helena and Dinah and settled himself down in the overstuffed chair.

"As I said on the phone earlier, I don't have any money," said Mr. Blackman, fearful of being sued for back child support.

"I don't want your money," said Dinah. "As I said earlier, I'm here for medical reasons."

"Medical reasons, huh?" said Mr. Blackman. "What sort of 'medical reasons'?"

"I … see things," said Dinah. "Things that most people … aren't supposed to see." Dinah paused. "I'm convinced it's genetic."

"Yeah … me too."

"Really?"

"Drives me nuts!" Mr. Blackman exclaimed bitterly. "I pick up a can of stewed tomatoes off the shelf at the supermarket and I know that the last person who touched it three hours ago was a fat middle-aged black woman with gout and three screaming kids in tow!" He let out a low sigh. "I can hear people's thoughts. I touch a pretty girl on the arm, I know her past, present … and future." He buried his head in his hands. "I'm going insane!" he moaned.

"You're not insane," said Dinah quietly.

"Really?" said Mr. Blackman, lifting his head up in surprise.

Dinah smiled and nodded. "You're just like me," she said. "A metahuman … a telepath." Dinah paused. "I can't hear other people's thoughts, though."

"You haven't touched your water," said Mr. Blackman, cocking his head towards the untouched glasses of water.

"We're taught not to accept … drinks from … strangers," said Helena. "You never know what people … have put in them."

In other words, you never know if they're drugged, thought Mr. Blackman. "It's OK," he said. "I understand." He paused. "You never know about some people." He paused again. "Soooo … how're we gonna do this?"

Helena opened the paper bag, took out a pair of disposable rubber gloves, and put them on. "I'm gonna do a cheek swab inside your mouth," she said. "Our … supervisor … thinks that this is the most efficient means of collecting DNA short of a blood sample."

"I never did like needles," said Mr. Blackman. Helena stood up, took a couple of long surgical swabs out of the bag, and walked over to where Blackman was sitting. "Open your mouth, please," she said. Blackman complied, and Helena swabbed the inside of his mouth. That finished, she placed the swabs back inside the paper bag and sat once more on the couch.

"I hope this helps," said Mr. Blackman.

"It should answer … SOME questions … at least," said Helena. She then turned to Dinah. "We really should be going," she said. "We've gotta prepare the next sample."

"One question," said Mr. Blackman. "How DID you find out my phone number? It's unlisted."

Helena and Dinah rose to leave. "We have our … sources," said Helena.