With an extra tip of the hat to Mike W Barr and Alan Davis, for so memorably creating McSurleys in the first place.
Chapter 8
McSurley's Bar, Three hours later.
"McSurleys" was, even by Gotham's exceptional standards, a dive. It was the sort of place that other cesspits could at least feel good about being better than.
The rumours about this place were the stuff of legend. Robin had never been allowed to come here before and even alongside Batman, Robin approached it with caution.
As they swung down from a nearby roof, and approached the steel-riveted door that was the only visible evidence of "McSurleys" existence other than the cheesy neon sign, the door swung open and a rather portly man wearing only his underwear was unceremoniously slung out. Pulling himself upright with a surprising amount of dignity, the man started to walk off down the street rather unsteadily.
A voice from inside called after him. "And next time, don't ask the girls for credit you lousy pervert!".
The voice belonged to McSurley himself, an overweight troll of an, allegedly, human being who ran the place with a very literal rod of iron.
When he saw who was approaching the door, he muttered in what he probably thought was a whisper; "Oh great, I get rid of one freak and get two more….". Out loud he said; "Welcome visitors, to my fine establishment, do come in." A smile was not a pleasant thing to see on a face like McSurley's.
"Normally I'd card the kid, but seeing as he's with a responsible adult like yourself, I think we can make an exception."
"Very wise, McSurley. Profile?"
"I'll just buzz up, but I don't think he's taking callers tonight."
"That's a joke, right McSurley?"
McSurley was sweating, it did nothing for his appearance, though it was hard to imagine what would "Uhhhh, yeah, sure Batman, just my idea of a little humourous banter with the customers. Ha ha. How'd I do?"
"I'm not the best judge."
McSurley fingered his collar nervously, "Yeah, well.."
"Hiya Bats!!"
The interruption came from a woman who had come up to them from her seat by the bar. Her appearance left few doubts as to her profession; a well-filled boob-tube, gaudy makeup, flashy jewellery, a skirt that was more like a belt with aspirations and a walk that seemed to involve more hips than was entirely natural. Underneath it though, Robin judged her to be actually quite attractive, and possessing a killer smile. She was beaming at, of all people, Batman.
Robin tried to think of the number of people, other than himself, who ever smiled at Batman voluntarily, not to mention sincerely and got as high as "None" before events took an even more surreal twist; Batman actually smiled back, and not his scary smile either, a smile of genuine warmth.
"Rhonda! Always a pleasure"
"Don't _I_ wish!
"I trust you're behaving yourself?"
"Don't _you_ wish?"
There was clearly history here, Robin felt, though he wasn't sure he wanted to know about it. It was bizarre enough seeing Batman engage in banter.
"Profile?"
"He's upstairs, said you were to go up."
McSurley glared at her and even Batman gave her a sceptical look, but she just shrugged, unfazed;
"Well, if you're here about what I think you are, then that's what I'd like to think he'd have said. And since I like to think the best of people let's just say that he did."
Shaking his head at her logic, Batman moved upstairs, Robin started to accompany him, but Batman held him back.
"Stay here would you, Robin, and keep an eye on things for me. I might need a quick exit and I need to know someone I can trust is watching my back." He was gone in a moment, and probably thought that Robin hadn't noticed either the glance that Batman gave Rhonda nor the almost imperceptible nod she had made in reply.
He looked around at the assembled clientele, wondering if this was part of Batman's plan to keep him off this case, show him enough of the seamy underbelly of Gotham to persuade him to back off. Still pondering this, he felt his arm being taken by Rhonda.
"C'mon and sit down kid and I'll buy you a soda."
Well, as babysitters in the seamy underbelly went, he could have done a whole lot worse than Rhonda. He flashed his most disarming smile at her.
"Thanks, I'd love to."
- - -
Whilst McSurley ran the downstairs bar, the upstairs was the domain of the man who went only by the name "Profile".
No one was quite sure as to his past, or even his present most of the time. Profile broke all the rules, but he did it with style.
Few took him seriously at first, fewer still made the same mistake twice. Profile may have looked flamboyant and effete, but behind the silk cravats and hundred dollar manicures, the pretty-boy face and the coiffed hair, was a mind sharp as a switchblade and twice as dangerous.
It was rumoured that he had been a protégé of the Penguin, a behind the scenes arranger who had never once been implicated in so much as parking ticket. Seemingly the Penguin had taken a shine to the young Profile's style, even going so far, it was rumoured, as to give him personal training in some of the finer points of extortion and information brokering. Profile could certainly have had no finer teacher.
Whatever the past, when Profile wanted to set himself up as a solo operator, the Penguin had actually given his blessing. This was almost unheard of, and gave Profile an instant aura of respect in the Gotham underworld. The kickbacks to the Penguin's mob must be enormous, but Profile never begrudged them.
Profile was generally known for running small scale vice and prostitution, but it was his information services that brought in the big money. McSurley's was a hang out for those on the game, but it was different from others. It wasn't where they went to pick up business, thought they could if they wanted to, provided Profile got a slice of the action. It was a place where they could go and talk, and basically socialise in an entirely judgement free atmosphere. McSurleys reputation was carefully cultivated by Profile, and much of the violence came from attempts to move in on it by jealous rival, rather than simple brawling. It was very popular spot amongst it's target clientele and if information happened to be passed Profile's way from time to time, such as who certain customers might be, or what their personal tastes were, well, that was just one of those things.
Batman tolerated him because he was useful and predictable, whereas a replacement might be neither.
As usual, Moose was on duty outside Profiles office. Moose was built like a wall and was about as intelligent, plus he didn't ever seem to sleep, the perfect doorman. Batman sighed inwardly… Moose was always a challenge to get past, as it involved thinking down to his level. Clever strategies were completely wasted on someone with no subtlety, and they were what Batman excelled at.
"Moose, I think I hear Profile calling you."
"Nuh-uh, Batman. Mr Profile never calls me into his office. I break stuff too easy"
Batman thought fast "He wasn't calling you in, he said he wanted a soda from downstairs."
"He did? Why can't I hear him?"
"Because he's finished talking now."
Moose thought that over for a second.. "Oh, okay. Did he say what kind of soda?"
Batman thought fast, soft drinks weren't really his thing. What was that dreadful stuff Dick drank again..?
"A Zesti. He wants a Zesti soda" In a moment of inspiration he added "And he wants it in a left-handed can."
"A Zesti inna left-handed can…. I can get that. I seen soda's downstairs." He sounded terribly proud of that feat of memory.
Moose started to move away then stopped "I can't leave the door unguarded. Mr Profile would be mad at me."
Batman was amazed, this was university-level thinking from Moose.
"That's okay. I'll stay outside and guard the door for you."
"You will?"
"Of course. No one ever gets past me if I don't want them to, you know that don't you?"
"Sure. Lots of people are scared of you Batman."
"So you go get the soda for Profile, and I'll stay here, and no one will get in to see him. Right?"
If there was something wrong with this logic, Moose couldn't see it. He was leaving the door, but Batman was there and he would be almost as good a doorman as Moose was so… Before his head started to hurt form all the thinking, Moose started to lumber down the corridor.
"Just be sure not to let anyone else in Batman. Mr Profile wouldn't like that."
"You have my word Moose, no one else will get through the door when I'm here."
Moose vanished from sight, heading downstairs.
Shaking his head at what he had just been through, Batman opened the door to Profile's office and slipped in.
Seated at a hand-crafted antique desk, with a state of the art laptop computer in front of him, Profile was going through some paperwork. There was a selection of exquisite art around the office; Cabinets held Lalique statuary, China vases of immense age and even more immense value and paintings and hangings worth several small fortunes. As always, Profile liked to be surrounded by beauty and saw no point in not indulging his tastes. Batman reckoned some of it hadn't even been stolen.
Without looking up from his work Profile said in a polite tone, "Do come in and sit down. Make yourself comfortable. I owe you that for not leaving Moose unconscious like last time."
Batman simply placed himself in front of the desk. He loomed without any visible effort.
"Before we begin, Profile, I've left Robin down there with Rhonda, I don't expect trouble and he can deal with most situations, but if anything happens to him whilst I'm here I am holding you personally responsible."
"Happen to him? With you in the building? Even my customers wouldn't be that stupi…" Profile paused and thought for a moment. "…hmm, I see your point."
With that he pressed a concealed button under his desk and a Japanese silk wall hanging behind the desk rolled itself up revealing an array of TV screens, each showing a different part of the downstairs area. Despite himself, Batman was impressed, he'd only spotted eight cameras in the bar and there were twelve different views.
Profile must have spotted some reaction because he simply said, in an offhand manner. "Before you ask, under Molly's tray, inside one of the exit lights, in Jess's suspender belt and attached to a part of Sven's anatomy that even Commissioner Gordon would have a hard time getting a search warrant for."
On several of the screens Robin could be seen, surrounded by a group of very ugly, heavyweight bikers. Rhonda was hanging around in the background, making her presence known, but not making any move. Batman saw Robin reach into his utility belt, cursed himself for leaving the boy alone, and was set to go racing down to assist him, already calculating attack strategies. Then he paused, Robin's stance was wrong for an attack or defence, and he'd never be that sloppy if he felt there was a risk.
Instead, he saw that Robin was about to perform what he referred to as "his party piece"; batarang juggling. Within a moment he had three of his non-bladed batarangs flying between his hands in a complex pattern, and when a fourth somehow or other joined the mix, several of the bikers actually applauded. Batman shook his head, the boy never ceased to surprise him.
Reassured that all was well, Batman turned back to Profile, who was also enjoying the display.
"Talented kid you have there."
"Right now I'm more interested in knowing about the kid who died last night."
Profile's face clouded for a moment "What makes you think I'd know anything about it?"
"You know everything about something and something about everything Profile, your sources are the best. And you'll tell me what I want to know."
Profile slumped slightly and shook his head. "Normally, I enjoy playing this game Batman. I'd happily play it for half an hour just to make you feel it was worthwhile, but in this case it wouldn't help. I genuinely don't know anything about the murder. I'd tell you if I knew, believe me. I've heard the rumours of course, but this isn't a local job, doesn't match anyone around here's style. It's a visitor to Gotham, and I think you know who it is too, or have a good idea."
Batman nodded, "The Corinthian"
Profiles face became even more troubled. "Dear God. I'd hoped I was wrong. I haven't even mentioned it to the girls. Everyones heard the stories of course, but most don't believe them. Urban myths, though I suppose you already know about all that."
Batman pressed on
"Can you at least tell me about the boy? A name, something?"
"You mean you didn't even know his name?" Profile looked aghast.
"There wasn't any ID on the body, and he doesn't match any outstanding missing persons in Gotham. FBI will run a check, but those don't always work."
Profile looked horrified. His hands were still, rather than their normal nervous fluttering when Batman was around. Batman half believed the emotion might be genuine.
"I had no idea you didn't know it. How dreadful, to die without even a name. The name he used was Brad."
"His real name?"
Profile shrugged, "Probably. The girls figure he didn't look enough like any famous "Brad" they could think of to be using it as a hook."
"Surname?"
Profile shook his head, "He never gave one to anyone I've spoken to. Shirley thinks with his accent he might have been from Chicago originally, but no one's certain."
"You're well informed about a street kid."
Profile shrugged "_You_ came to _me_, so must have known I would be. It's my job to know these things, and I've actually been expecting a visit from you. I've already been asking the girls for any information they might have, Rhonda and a few others have been asking around on their own, bless them. Some of them like to keep an eye on the local 'babes in the hood'. Displaced maternal instinct or something. A couple of the girls remember seeing Brad last night, but can't tell you who he was with. They're all adamant they don't remember, and they weren't lying, not about something like this."
"If you want to find out more about the boy, I suggest a visit to Ma Graves over in the Chocolate Box district. She makes sure her boys and girls are kept pretty much out of the loop, so none of my girls know them very well."
Batman looked surprised and angry "Ma Graves is still in business? I closed her down two years ago."
"And she came back four months ago, different locale, same pillar of society." There was no love lost here.
"You didn't tell me about that."
"To coin a phrase Batman, you didn't ask, She's well connected with several of the East Side mobs and she's far enough way from me for her not to be a threat to me or mine. A few of her "farm" were out on the Razors Edge last night though. Sounds like Brad was out earning the rent and got really unlucky."
"Why _are_ you being so helpful about this Profile? It's not like you. Normally I have to at least threaten you."
"Why? You can't believe that I'm simply a concerned citizen?"
Batman just stared at him.
"Didn't think you would. You know full well I never touch chicken-hawks or kiddieporn."
"Oh yeah, you're lily white."
Batman had never seen Profile angry before, he was usually too much of a coward, or kept his self-control too well, for that to happen, but he flushed angrily now.
"Okay Batman, you think I'm scum, I know that, you know that, but you've always been decent enough to say so to my face. I don't like you, you loathe me."
"Actually, I don't think of you often enough for it to be 'loathe'"
"Whatever." Profiles anger wasn't petering out either. "I cut deals for my girls, and I look after them, they know they can trust me… well, more than they can trust anyone else, and anyone who hurts them will pay, one way or the other. But I have never dealt in kids. I never have, never will, and I'd burn this place down and panhandle before I did."
"And why should I believe you on this."
Profile looked straight at Batman and when he spoke his voice was barely a whisper, with an edge to it that Batman had never heard, the ring of absolute conviction;
"Have you looked at the kids who have to do that to earn a crust? Really looked at them. I look at kids like that and I see shame in their eyes, I see pain, and I see distrust and I remember what that look felt like… from the inside."
Looking at the haunted eyes behind the flamboyant appearance, Batman believed him and understood a little more about Profile than he had before.
Without a word, Batman nodded and turned away.
"Anything else you find out."
"You'll know. And I'll have my girls spread the word to those on the street. The Corinthian's a bogeyman for kids like that, a few might even listen to them."
- - -
Downstairs Robin was still keeping the crowd amused. Batman would grumble that it wasn't doing their "aura of fear" amongst the criminal fraternity much good, but Robin worked on the principle that there was no point alienating people for no reason. Some of these guys might want to gut him there and then, but if you assumed that about everyone from the word go you ended up… well, like Batman.
As if on cue he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. With a small sigh he gave his wrist a twist and one of the five batarangs currently in the air fell. There was a slight "Awwww" of disappointment from his audience until they saw that it hadn't dropped so much as it had been redirected. It curved upwards from it's downward arc, sailed through the air and impacted on the hand of the guy in the sharp suit holding the throwing knife seconds before he could let fly. From there it bounced off the guys temple as well, and he fell like stunned ox. A couple of the people at the table he had been sitting at rose and made a move on Robin, when to his surprise one of the largest bikers stepped between them, a solid wall of leather-clad gristle.
"I don't think that's wise, do you friend?"
"What's it to you Cleaver? He took down Aldo!"
"The kid was defending himself. Anyone want to argue with that?"
Anyone who might have had the slightest desire to suddenly took an interest in inspecting the floor. It got terribly quiet, apart from the sound of Moose at the bar, trying hard to remember what it was he'd been asked to get for Profile.
"A Zombie? Do we have any Zombies here. No… maybe it was a Zippy….."
In the still of the bar standoff, Batman emerged from the stairwell and all eyes immediately turned to him.
"Come on Robin, say goodbye to your…. friends. We have other places to be tonight."
"Sure thing Batman." With that he stowed the batarangs back in his belt so quickly they appeared to simply melt into thin air. "Sorry folks, gotta go."
He actually got a round of applause, a sound he'd missed since he'd left the circus, and had to resist taking a bow. If Batman hadn't been there he would have done too, but Bruce was not keen to overt displays of appreciation, no matter how well Dick or Robin had done.
He went over to join Batman, who was having a final word with Rhonda. He caught the end of what she was saying.
"….and if you ever want the kid to get a proper education, send him back when he's legal and.."
Robin felt himself starting to blush again, and Batman held up his hands "Thank you Rhonda, but I don't think that'll be happening."
Rhonda shrugged in an offhand manner, "Hey, fine, I just thought I'd offer. Better to learn from the best I always say…"
"Rhonda, you're incorrigible."
"Nah, corrigible doesn't suit me, I'm cuter in pastels, and dynamite in fleshtones!"
Her face took on a serious look "I don't know what Profile offered you, but catch this freak and the girls'll owe you BIG time." She broke the mood by fluttered eye eyelashes outrageously.
"Enough so you'd take a night or two off on my account?"
Rhonda clearly hadn't been expecting an answer, but rallied well "We'd…. consider it. Course, you'd need to provide some form of distraction for us… of one sort or another." There was a smattering of laughter from Rhonda's friends at the bar.
Robin nudged Batman and whispered something to him. Batman nodded in approval, "Good idea… Self-defence classes for you perhaps?"
Rhonda considered this seriously for a moment
"Done. A girl can't be too careful. Maybe we can get a few of the kids to join us too."
With a final acknowledgement to Rhonda Batman turned and headed to the door. He caught the pool ball that came whistling towards him without even breaking his stride and threw it back where it came from with even more force. Robin just had time to smile one more time at Rhonda, before he heard the sound of a heavy impact and a grunt of pain from the direction of the pool table. He picked up his speed.
Meanwhile Moose was getting angry with the barman who told him that there was no such thing as a left-handed zebra anywhere in the bar. And when Moose got angry, things tended to get very, very hectic in McSurleys…
In the ensuing melee, no-one seemed to notice the silver haired man wearing the dark glasses, sitting in one corner of the bar nursing a scotch and a cigarette who had been paying special attention to their recent visitors. Without a word he got up, avoided the assorted combatants wrestling with each other on the floor and slipped out the door, determined to follow his prey for a while longer. It promised to be rewarding, they moved within such interesting social circles.
Chapter 8
McSurley's Bar, Three hours later.
"McSurleys" was, even by Gotham's exceptional standards, a dive. It was the sort of place that other cesspits could at least feel good about being better than.
The rumours about this place were the stuff of legend. Robin had never been allowed to come here before and even alongside Batman, Robin approached it with caution.
As they swung down from a nearby roof, and approached the steel-riveted door that was the only visible evidence of "McSurleys" existence other than the cheesy neon sign, the door swung open and a rather portly man wearing only his underwear was unceremoniously slung out. Pulling himself upright with a surprising amount of dignity, the man started to walk off down the street rather unsteadily.
A voice from inside called after him. "And next time, don't ask the girls for credit you lousy pervert!".
The voice belonged to McSurley himself, an overweight troll of an, allegedly, human being who ran the place with a very literal rod of iron.
When he saw who was approaching the door, he muttered in what he probably thought was a whisper; "Oh great, I get rid of one freak and get two more….". Out loud he said; "Welcome visitors, to my fine establishment, do come in." A smile was not a pleasant thing to see on a face like McSurley's.
"Normally I'd card the kid, but seeing as he's with a responsible adult like yourself, I think we can make an exception."
"Very wise, McSurley. Profile?"
"I'll just buzz up, but I don't think he's taking callers tonight."
"That's a joke, right McSurley?"
McSurley was sweating, it did nothing for his appearance, though it was hard to imagine what would "Uhhhh, yeah, sure Batman, just my idea of a little humourous banter with the customers. Ha ha. How'd I do?"
"I'm not the best judge."
McSurley fingered his collar nervously, "Yeah, well.."
"Hiya Bats!!"
The interruption came from a woman who had come up to them from her seat by the bar. Her appearance left few doubts as to her profession; a well-filled boob-tube, gaudy makeup, flashy jewellery, a skirt that was more like a belt with aspirations and a walk that seemed to involve more hips than was entirely natural. Underneath it though, Robin judged her to be actually quite attractive, and possessing a killer smile. She was beaming at, of all people, Batman.
Robin tried to think of the number of people, other than himself, who ever smiled at Batman voluntarily, not to mention sincerely and got as high as "None" before events took an even more surreal twist; Batman actually smiled back, and not his scary smile either, a smile of genuine warmth.
"Rhonda! Always a pleasure"
"Don't _I_ wish!
"I trust you're behaving yourself?"
"Don't _you_ wish?"
There was clearly history here, Robin felt, though he wasn't sure he wanted to know about it. It was bizarre enough seeing Batman engage in banter.
"Profile?"
"He's upstairs, said you were to go up."
McSurley glared at her and even Batman gave her a sceptical look, but she just shrugged, unfazed;
"Well, if you're here about what I think you are, then that's what I'd like to think he'd have said. And since I like to think the best of people let's just say that he did."
Shaking his head at her logic, Batman moved upstairs, Robin started to accompany him, but Batman held him back.
"Stay here would you, Robin, and keep an eye on things for me. I might need a quick exit and I need to know someone I can trust is watching my back." He was gone in a moment, and probably thought that Robin hadn't noticed either the glance that Batman gave Rhonda nor the almost imperceptible nod she had made in reply.
He looked around at the assembled clientele, wondering if this was part of Batman's plan to keep him off this case, show him enough of the seamy underbelly of Gotham to persuade him to back off. Still pondering this, he felt his arm being taken by Rhonda.
"C'mon and sit down kid and I'll buy you a soda."
Well, as babysitters in the seamy underbelly went, he could have done a whole lot worse than Rhonda. He flashed his most disarming smile at her.
"Thanks, I'd love to."
- - -
Whilst McSurley ran the downstairs bar, the upstairs was the domain of the man who went only by the name "Profile".
No one was quite sure as to his past, or even his present most of the time. Profile broke all the rules, but he did it with style.
Few took him seriously at first, fewer still made the same mistake twice. Profile may have looked flamboyant and effete, but behind the silk cravats and hundred dollar manicures, the pretty-boy face and the coiffed hair, was a mind sharp as a switchblade and twice as dangerous.
It was rumoured that he had been a protégé of the Penguin, a behind the scenes arranger who had never once been implicated in so much as parking ticket. Seemingly the Penguin had taken a shine to the young Profile's style, even going so far, it was rumoured, as to give him personal training in some of the finer points of extortion and information brokering. Profile could certainly have had no finer teacher.
Whatever the past, when Profile wanted to set himself up as a solo operator, the Penguin had actually given his blessing. This was almost unheard of, and gave Profile an instant aura of respect in the Gotham underworld. The kickbacks to the Penguin's mob must be enormous, but Profile never begrudged them.
Profile was generally known for running small scale vice and prostitution, but it was his information services that brought in the big money. McSurley's was a hang out for those on the game, but it was different from others. It wasn't where they went to pick up business, thought they could if they wanted to, provided Profile got a slice of the action. It was a place where they could go and talk, and basically socialise in an entirely judgement free atmosphere. McSurleys reputation was carefully cultivated by Profile, and much of the violence came from attempts to move in on it by jealous rival, rather than simple brawling. It was very popular spot amongst it's target clientele and if information happened to be passed Profile's way from time to time, such as who certain customers might be, or what their personal tastes were, well, that was just one of those things.
Batman tolerated him because he was useful and predictable, whereas a replacement might be neither.
As usual, Moose was on duty outside Profiles office. Moose was built like a wall and was about as intelligent, plus he didn't ever seem to sleep, the perfect doorman. Batman sighed inwardly… Moose was always a challenge to get past, as it involved thinking down to his level. Clever strategies were completely wasted on someone with no subtlety, and they were what Batman excelled at.
"Moose, I think I hear Profile calling you."
"Nuh-uh, Batman. Mr Profile never calls me into his office. I break stuff too easy"
Batman thought fast "He wasn't calling you in, he said he wanted a soda from downstairs."
"He did? Why can't I hear him?"
"Because he's finished talking now."
Moose thought that over for a second.. "Oh, okay. Did he say what kind of soda?"
Batman thought fast, soft drinks weren't really his thing. What was that dreadful stuff Dick drank again..?
"A Zesti. He wants a Zesti soda" In a moment of inspiration he added "And he wants it in a left-handed can."
"A Zesti inna left-handed can…. I can get that. I seen soda's downstairs." He sounded terribly proud of that feat of memory.
Moose started to move away then stopped "I can't leave the door unguarded. Mr Profile would be mad at me."
Batman was amazed, this was university-level thinking from Moose.
"That's okay. I'll stay outside and guard the door for you."
"You will?"
"Of course. No one ever gets past me if I don't want them to, you know that don't you?"
"Sure. Lots of people are scared of you Batman."
"So you go get the soda for Profile, and I'll stay here, and no one will get in to see him. Right?"
If there was something wrong with this logic, Moose couldn't see it. He was leaving the door, but Batman was there and he would be almost as good a doorman as Moose was so… Before his head started to hurt form all the thinking, Moose started to lumber down the corridor.
"Just be sure not to let anyone else in Batman. Mr Profile wouldn't like that."
"You have my word Moose, no one else will get through the door when I'm here."
Moose vanished from sight, heading downstairs.
Shaking his head at what he had just been through, Batman opened the door to Profile's office and slipped in.
Seated at a hand-crafted antique desk, with a state of the art laptop computer in front of him, Profile was going through some paperwork. There was a selection of exquisite art around the office; Cabinets held Lalique statuary, China vases of immense age and even more immense value and paintings and hangings worth several small fortunes. As always, Profile liked to be surrounded by beauty and saw no point in not indulging his tastes. Batman reckoned some of it hadn't even been stolen.
Without looking up from his work Profile said in a polite tone, "Do come in and sit down. Make yourself comfortable. I owe you that for not leaving Moose unconscious like last time."
Batman simply placed himself in front of the desk. He loomed without any visible effort.
"Before we begin, Profile, I've left Robin down there with Rhonda, I don't expect trouble and he can deal with most situations, but if anything happens to him whilst I'm here I am holding you personally responsible."
"Happen to him? With you in the building? Even my customers wouldn't be that stupi…" Profile paused and thought for a moment. "…hmm, I see your point."
With that he pressed a concealed button under his desk and a Japanese silk wall hanging behind the desk rolled itself up revealing an array of TV screens, each showing a different part of the downstairs area. Despite himself, Batman was impressed, he'd only spotted eight cameras in the bar and there were twelve different views.
Profile must have spotted some reaction because he simply said, in an offhand manner. "Before you ask, under Molly's tray, inside one of the exit lights, in Jess's suspender belt and attached to a part of Sven's anatomy that even Commissioner Gordon would have a hard time getting a search warrant for."
On several of the screens Robin could be seen, surrounded by a group of very ugly, heavyweight bikers. Rhonda was hanging around in the background, making her presence known, but not making any move. Batman saw Robin reach into his utility belt, cursed himself for leaving the boy alone, and was set to go racing down to assist him, already calculating attack strategies. Then he paused, Robin's stance was wrong for an attack or defence, and he'd never be that sloppy if he felt there was a risk.
Instead, he saw that Robin was about to perform what he referred to as "his party piece"; batarang juggling. Within a moment he had three of his non-bladed batarangs flying between his hands in a complex pattern, and when a fourth somehow or other joined the mix, several of the bikers actually applauded. Batman shook his head, the boy never ceased to surprise him.
Reassured that all was well, Batman turned back to Profile, who was also enjoying the display.
"Talented kid you have there."
"Right now I'm more interested in knowing about the kid who died last night."
Profile's face clouded for a moment "What makes you think I'd know anything about it?"
"You know everything about something and something about everything Profile, your sources are the best. And you'll tell me what I want to know."
Profile slumped slightly and shook his head. "Normally, I enjoy playing this game Batman. I'd happily play it for half an hour just to make you feel it was worthwhile, but in this case it wouldn't help. I genuinely don't know anything about the murder. I'd tell you if I knew, believe me. I've heard the rumours of course, but this isn't a local job, doesn't match anyone around here's style. It's a visitor to Gotham, and I think you know who it is too, or have a good idea."
Batman nodded, "The Corinthian"
Profiles face became even more troubled. "Dear God. I'd hoped I was wrong. I haven't even mentioned it to the girls. Everyones heard the stories of course, but most don't believe them. Urban myths, though I suppose you already know about all that."
Batman pressed on
"Can you at least tell me about the boy? A name, something?"
"You mean you didn't even know his name?" Profile looked aghast.
"There wasn't any ID on the body, and he doesn't match any outstanding missing persons in Gotham. FBI will run a check, but those don't always work."
Profile looked horrified. His hands were still, rather than their normal nervous fluttering when Batman was around. Batman half believed the emotion might be genuine.
"I had no idea you didn't know it. How dreadful, to die without even a name. The name he used was Brad."
"His real name?"
Profile shrugged, "Probably. The girls figure he didn't look enough like any famous "Brad" they could think of to be using it as a hook."
"Surname?"
Profile shook his head, "He never gave one to anyone I've spoken to. Shirley thinks with his accent he might have been from Chicago originally, but no one's certain."
"You're well informed about a street kid."
Profile shrugged "_You_ came to _me_, so must have known I would be. It's my job to know these things, and I've actually been expecting a visit from you. I've already been asking the girls for any information they might have, Rhonda and a few others have been asking around on their own, bless them. Some of them like to keep an eye on the local 'babes in the hood'. Displaced maternal instinct or something. A couple of the girls remember seeing Brad last night, but can't tell you who he was with. They're all adamant they don't remember, and they weren't lying, not about something like this."
"If you want to find out more about the boy, I suggest a visit to Ma Graves over in the Chocolate Box district. She makes sure her boys and girls are kept pretty much out of the loop, so none of my girls know them very well."
Batman looked surprised and angry "Ma Graves is still in business? I closed her down two years ago."
"And she came back four months ago, different locale, same pillar of society." There was no love lost here.
"You didn't tell me about that."
"To coin a phrase Batman, you didn't ask, She's well connected with several of the East Side mobs and she's far enough way from me for her not to be a threat to me or mine. A few of her "farm" were out on the Razors Edge last night though. Sounds like Brad was out earning the rent and got really unlucky."
"Why _are_ you being so helpful about this Profile? It's not like you. Normally I have to at least threaten you."
"Why? You can't believe that I'm simply a concerned citizen?"
Batman just stared at him.
"Didn't think you would. You know full well I never touch chicken-hawks or kiddieporn."
"Oh yeah, you're lily white."
Batman had never seen Profile angry before, he was usually too much of a coward, or kept his self-control too well, for that to happen, but he flushed angrily now.
"Okay Batman, you think I'm scum, I know that, you know that, but you've always been decent enough to say so to my face. I don't like you, you loathe me."
"Actually, I don't think of you often enough for it to be 'loathe'"
"Whatever." Profiles anger wasn't petering out either. "I cut deals for my girls, and I look after them, they know they can trust me… well, more than they can trust anyone else, and anyone who hurts them will pay, one way or the other. But I have never dealt in kids. I never have, never will, and I'd burn this place down and panhandle before I did."
"And why should I believe you on this."
Profile looked straight at Batman and when he spoke his voice was barely a whisper, with an edge to it that Batman had never heard, the ring of absolute conviction;
"Have you looked at the kids who have to do that to earn a crust? Really looked at them. I look at kids like that and I see shame in their eyes, I see pain, and I see distrust and I remember what that look felt like… from the inside."
Looking at the haunted eyes behind the flamboyant appearance, Batman believed him and understood a little more about Profile than he had before.
Without a word, Batman nodded and turned away.
"Anything else you find out."
"You'll know. And I'll have my girls spread the word to those on the street. The Corinthian's a bogeyman for kids like that, a few might even listen to them."
- - -
Downstairs Robin was still keeping the crowd amused. Batman would grumble that it wasn't doing their "aura of fear" amongst the criminal fraternity much good, but Robin worked on the principle that there was no point alienating people for no reason. Some of these guys might want to gut him there and then, but if you assumed that about everyone from the word go you ended up… well, like Batman.
As if on cue he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. With a small sigh he gave his wrist a twist and one of the five batarangs currently in the air fell. There was a slight "Awwww" of disappointment from his audience until they saw that it hadn't dropped so much as it had been redirected. It curved upwards from it's downward arc, sailed through the air and impacted on the hand of the guy in the sharp suit holding the throwing knife seconds before he could let fly. From there it bounced off the guys temple as well, and he fell like stunned ox. A couple of the people at the table he had been sitting at rose and made a move on Robin, when to his surprise one of the largest bikers stepped between them, a solid wall of leather-clad gristle.
"I don't think that's wise, do you friend?"
"What's it to you Cleaver? He took down Aldo!"
"The kid was defending himself. Anyone want to argue with that?"
Anyone who might have had the slightest desire to suddenly took an interest in inspecting the floor. It got terribly quiet, apart from the sound of Moose at the bar, trying hard to remember what it was he'd been asked to get for Profile.
"A Zombie? Do we have any Zombies here. No… maybe it was a Zippy….."
In the still of the bar standoff, Batman emerged from the stairwell and all eyes immediately turned to him.
"Come on Robin, say goodbye to your…. friends. We have other places to be tonight."
"Sure thing Batman." With that he stowed the batarangs back in his belt so quickly they appeared to simply melt into thin air. "Sorry folks, gotta go."
He actually got a round of applause, a sound he'd missed since he'd left the circus, and had to resist taking a bow. If Batman hadn't been there he would have done too, but Bruce was not keen to overt displays of appreciation, no matter how well Dick or Robin had done.
He went over to join Batman, who was having a final word with Rhonda. He caught the end of what she was saying.
"….and if you ever want the kid to get a proper education, send him back when he's legal and.."
Robin felt himself starting to blush again, and Batman held up his hands "Thank you Rhonda, but I don't think that'll be happening."
Rhonda shrugged in an offhand manner, "Hey, fine, I just thought I'd offer. Better to learn from the best I always say…"
"Rhonda, you're incorrigible."
"Nah, corrigible doesn't suit me, I'm cuter in pastels, and dynamite in fleshtones!"
Her face took on a serious look "I don't know what Profile offered you, but catch this freak and the girls'll owe you BIG time." She broke the mood by fluttered eye eyelashes outrageously.
"Enough so you'd take a night or two off on my account?"
Rhonda clearly hadn't been expecting an answer, but rallied well "We'd…. consider it. Course, you'd need to provide some form of distraction for us… of one sort or another." There was a smattering of laughter from Rhonda's friends at the bar.
Robin nudged Batman and whispered something to him. Batman nodded in approval, "Good idea… Self-defence classes for you perhaps?"
Rhonda considered this seriously for a moment
"Done. A girl can't be too careful. Maybe we can get a few of the kids to join us too."
With a final acknowledgement to Rhonda Batman turned and headed to the door. He caught the pool ball that came whistling towards him without even breaking his stride and threw it back where it came from with even more force. Robin just had time to smile one more time at Rhonda, before he heard the sound of a heavy impact and a grunt of pain from the direction of the pool table. He picked up his speed.
Meanwhile Moose was getting angry with the barman who told him that there was no such thing as a left-handed zebra anywhere in the bar. And when Moose got angry, things tended to get very, very hectic in McSurleys…
In the ensuing melee, no-one seemed to notice the silver haired man wearing the dark glasses, sitting in one corner of the bar nursing a scotch and a cigarette who had been paying special attention to their recent visitors. Without a word he got up, avoided the assorted combatants wrestling with each other on the floor and slipped out the door, determined to follow his prey for a while longer. It promised to be rewarding, they moved within such interesting social circles.