September 19, 2003.

The old man turned his bed light on.  Was that really a noise he had heard, or was it just his imagination?

"What's wrong?" his wife asked sleepily as the light woke her up. 

"Uh, nothing," the man said.  "I just wanted to get a drink of water.  Go back to sleep."  He waited until she was asleep again and then picked up a lead pipe.  He crept out of the room, and then stood listening.

Yes, there was definitely something out there.  The noise was faint, but the man had very good hearing, even at his age.  The floorboards in his house were old, and creaked just like in haunted houses and horror movies.  As the old man started moving slowly towards the front of his house, he felt like he was in such a movie. 

As he got to the kitchen, he reached for the light switch.  A shock ran up his spine as he felt his arm being held tightly in a cold grip.  He brought the lead pipe down quickly, but it was blocked, and soon torn from his grasp.  The man gasped as he looked in front of him and saw what looked like two white, featureless eyes that almost glowed.  Surrounding them was the dim, shadowy outline of a man, the silhouette interrupted by the strange shape of his cape and cowl.

"What do you want?" The man whispered, struggling for breath.  He felt like he was going to have a heart attack.

"Tell me what you know about Zucco," the cold, grave voice responded.

"Zucco?  Never heard of anyone by that name."

"Yes," Batman said, his grip tightening on the man's arm.  "You have."

"No, please.  Leave me alone!" He started to get frantic, and fearful.

"Tell me," the voice demanded.

"No!  I can't.  Zucco'll hurt me, kill me!  Nothing you can do to me would be as bad as what he'll do!"

Batman leaned toward the old man, the white slits over his eyes inches from the man's face.  "Try me."

"Look, my wife's back there in the bedroom.  I've got grandchildren.  Zucco'll kill them all if I tell you anything.  Just leave me alone!"

September 29, 2003.

Tony Zucco's puppet Commissioner, Luke McGuinness, has been stalling for a month now, shuffling his feet.  He knows he can't produce real evidence against Nelson and Gordon (well, he's pretty much dropped the case against Nelson, realizing that going after a dead man doesn't get the public on his side).  But, just recently, as I expected, McGuinness produced fake evidence. 

Meanwhile, I'm having trouble finding evidence against McGuinness.  Zucco is nothing if not good at covering his tracks.  Nobody is willing to tell Batman anything.  As loath as I am to admit it, Zucco inspires more fear in the hearts of Gothamites than Batman does.  But, if I can get my hands on some documentation of this fake evidence against Gordon, I'll know what it is and how to contest it.

It was night.  James Gordon stood with his hands in the pockets of his deep trenchcoat, on the roof of the Gotham City Police building.  His graying hair blew in the stiff wind.  Gordon liked to go up on the roof whenever he could.  It was quiet there, a good place to think, and relax.  When he had a hard case, going up to the roof often helped him think it through.

He had a hard case this time, but this time the case was against him.  Gordon knew he wasn't guilty, and most of the officers working on the case against also knew it.  They were just doing their job, and he would personally attest to a lot of them being good men.  It was this new Commissioner that was causing the trouble.  McGuinness was no one that should've been in charge of any investigation, and especially not the ongoing investigation against Nick Atkins, whose murder trial was still pending.  Gordon was confidant that McGuinness would botch the investigation, and Gordon had a feeling McGuinness wouldn't be sorry about it. 

Of course, Commissioner Nelson hadn't expected a bed of roses when they arrested Atkins.  He was a man that could get Tony Zucco into a lot of trouble if convicted, so it was only natural that Zucco would pull such underhanded tactics to get Atkins off.  But Gordon never thought he himself would be the victim, or that he would end up behind bars.

Behind bars.  Locked up.  Imprisoned.  Gordon had been responsible for seeing many men thrown in jail, and at times he wasn't fully confident that these people were guilty.  But the justice system had spoken, and James Gordon believed in the American justice system.  But if Gordon was put in jail in trade for Atkins, there was no doubt in his mind that the justice system would have been perverted.  The question was; was there even anything that Gordon could do about it?

Gordon looked out into the night, and blinked.  Flying in the night sky, his cape unfurled behind him like two bat-wings, was a man.  Gordon looked harder, hoping the man would fly into a better-lit area.  Is that the Batman that we've been hearing all this buzz about? Gordon wondered.  The flying man was cut off from view as he went lower, and Gordon raced to the edge of the building to see if he could locate him again.  But he had disappeared. 

Continued…

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