Chapter 25 - The City Park Hotel - 9.45 pm
Gordon surveyed the crime scene with a heavy heart and the overly familiar taste of bile rising in his throat. The penthouse had already taken on the smell he always associated with murder scenes, a mixture of copper, wet fabric and slightly spoiled meat. It didn't matter how the person had died, the smell was always there, in the background. Or maybe it was just him, it wasn't something you brought up with your officers or colleagues, you tended to get odd looks.
The victims mother had been escorted away by the paramedics, in a state of deep shock, after screaming her lungs out for half an hour. She'd been found by another waiter on the floor, drawn to the noise she was making by a complaint from a guest down the corridor (Who hadn't even bothered to come out and see what was going on). The waiter wasn't in much better condition himself, but had at least managed to get the alarm raised before becoming hysterical.
The body had been covered with a sheet after the photos had been taken and it… he, Gordon corrected himself, _he_ was almost ready for the Coroner's team to take away. Gordon almost couldn't bring himself to look at the body, he knew he'd have to be looking at photos within a few hours, and this was another horror he didn't want to see. He'd seen too much in the past few days. But another voice inside him, the voice of a sergeant who'd taken him under wing years before (before anyone had ever thought that there needed to be a word like "mentoring"), chided him gently. "Just because you're in charge, it doesn't mean you get to make everything go your way."
Gordon couldn't leave his team dealing with something he couldn't handle himself. He went over, lifted the sheet, and looked at the still form. He shook his head. Words failed him and he moved away.
He noticed that the other officers around the room were, again, muted in their conversations, most took great pains to look at walls, floors, anything but the reason they were there.
There were always notes up in the GCPD locker-rooms advising officers of recent escapees from Arkham or Blackgate, so they might be prepared for what they might have to deal with. There was a healthy trade in shifts sometimes, a Two-Face for two or three Riddler's (depending on how manic he was at the time), four Penguins for a Scarecrow (Penguin was ruthless and scheming, but at least he tended to stick to normal crimes most of the time), a Joker for three weeks of anything else. Highly improper of course, but Gordon was prepared to let it slide if it meant he had a full roster when he needed them. He wondered how much a Corinthian shift was going for, whatever it was he bet it was increasing by the hour.
Bullock rolled into view. Gordon never ceased to wonder how Bullock, who generally had the appearance of a badly dressed pile of jello, could manage to pick his way through a crime scene in such a seemingly haphazard fashion without actually disturbing anything. It was fascinating to watch, like a car accident that never quite happened. Gordon was reminded of a documentary he'd seen on hippos; on land, hulking brutes, but in water, their natural element, strangely graceful. He wondered how the hell the words "graceful" and "Bullock" had ever occurred to him in conjunction, he clearly needed more sleep, which wasn't going to be coming anytime soon.
"We got the details Commish. Kid worked here part time, waiter, kitchen, general gopher but wasn't supposed to be up on this floor tonight."
"Was this a rape?" came a weary voice from the doorway.
Agent Pulaski stood there, shadowed by Agent Smith. Neither looked pleased to be there, which was hardly a surprise.
Hell of an entry line, Gordon thought, but he looked over at one of the Medical Examiner in askance, the ME nodded in reply.
Pulaski shook her head, "Thought so, probably means he's been hunting."
Gordon was curious despite himself, "'Hunt'? You mean like stalking? Does he do it often?"
"Not often, but we've seen him do it. Not when he takes kids off the street, but if he's after someone who isn't on the game, he's been known to follow them around for a while. Comes back later and makes the kill, but he always rapes in those cases, wants to make it worth his while or something. A hotel like this is the perfect environment for that kind of thing."
Smith spoke softly "We've had cases where he broke into the house of the victim, looked around their room whilst they slept. One time, my first time on this case, he even made himself a sandwich and fed the family dog, then just left. Came back two days later and… well, I will never that crime scene if I live to be a hundred. I thought I'd seen evil before, but…."
Gordon shivered, not a sensation he was used to. There was something about the self-control required to do such an…. unsettling thing that worried him more than murderous rage. He'd seen both, and the former was always more disturbing than the latter, just interview the Joker a couple of times if you want to know the difference. He'd once had to spend over an hour listening to that chalk-faced ghoul explaining how he'd actually _kept_ someone from dying for four days, just for fun. He'd had more nightmares from that than he'd had from most of the Jokers killing sprees.
"This time there's a twist, even for him I'll bet"
"Astound me."
"Well, I warned you. He made the kill, and some other things, in private, then called the boys mother, she works here in Housekeeping, to call her up to the room. When she got here, he was gone, but her son…"
Pulaski blanched "Yes, that's a new one."
"That's Gotham for you, it even brings out the best in our visitors. Yesterday he worked on quantity, today it's quality."
"I just love this town of yours Gordon. Remind me never to retire here"
"If you need reminding, you're qualified to stay. By the way, I meant to say, sorry about this morning and our discussion about our… absent friend"
Pulaski made a dismissive gesture, "No problem, none of us were at our best. Plus, I've dealt with a couple of these types in my time. He's reputed to the be worst of them all."
"And the best… in many ways", Gordon found himself almost reflexively defending the man he'd been shouting at mere hours before.
Pulaski smiled slightly, "He gets results true… if one is prepared to be a little flexible about the letter of the law. Is there any chance of him paying a visit here this evening?"
"I don't know, it's a distinct possibility though."
"You never can tell" came a deep voice behind them.
The FBI agents almost, but not quite, jumped. They turned around… to find Bullock standing behind them, a grin sprawled across his face. "Sorry, couldn't resist" he said in his own voice. He chuckled as he went back to his business, caught a couple of the other cops staring at him with open disgust and shrugged, but he quieted down.
"You'll find that Detective Bullock is the master of inappropriate humour." Gordon stressed the "inappropriate" rather strongly.
Agent Smith spoke in elegantly disapproving tones. "So I'd surmised. Bullock if you are Batman I, for one, would very much like to see you jump off a tall building."
Bullock bristled and was clearly about to retort, as Gordon moved off to one side, with Pulaski following.
"I think we should talk to the Hotel Manager, he may be able to shed some light on this while it's fresh."
"And the mother?
"She was taken away under sedation, between her, Ma Graves and the girls from the house last night, we're racking up the spaces in the Psych evaluation ward this week"
"I had Smith interview the girls today, he's had experience in that area", Agent Pulaski said, "Luckily, they didn't see what the Corinthian did to their friends, he _just_ shut them up in a room and let them listen to what went on, which was more than bad enough. Your officers, who seem to have way to much experience with this sort of situation for my tastes by the way, made sure they never saw the bodies as they were found. We have secure accommodation for them sorted out thanks to some sort of scheme from one of the local benefactors, the Wayne Something-or-other. The girls should recover, eventually, but it'll be a long time before the nightmares fade. As for Graves, well, it'll be a long, long time before she's in her right mind again."
"Not that she ever was…" Came a mutter from Bullocks approximate direction (He and Smith had shut up, clearly feeling this was neither the time nor place to argue loudly). Gordon wanted to agree but said nothing…
He changed the subject. "Would you care to sit on the prelim with the Manager Agent Pulaski? There might be elements to the case I wouldn't think to ask about."
"In this town, I doubt it, but sure I'll sit in."
"Thanks…"
"What's the rep on this hotel like?"
Gordon shrugged, "As far as I know, pretty good, all things considered. I mean, all hotels have some sort of past if you look back far enough, and this is Gotham, chances are they've lost a guest or two over the years one way or the other. It's a downtown hotel, so I'm sure there are a few local pro's who know some of the desk staff by their first name, and doubtless had a couple of high profile scandals over the years, but nothing major that I've ever been aware of. Does that look like 'Samuels' or 'Samuelson' to you?" Bullock's handwriting was as awful as ever.
Pulaski looked over at the scrawl on the pad "Actually, my first bet would be Simons actually, but if I had to choose between your choices, I'd say Samuels."
They broke off conversation as they approached the office of the Hotel Manager, who _was_ a Mr Samuels. A short, pudgy, middle-aged man with, who one could imagine fussing around guests or ordering his staff around with an efficient air. Now he was pacing the floor of his rather cluttered office with nervous energy, and looked pale and stressed. An opened bottle sat on his desk and there was no sign of a glass.
As soon as he saw Gordon his face changed, to a look Gordon had seen many times in the past, it was a look that said "I do not know who you are personally, but you are a Police Officer in a position of authority and I will therefore unload all my stress on to you."
They shut the door behind them and sat down, waiting for Samuels to say something. He didn't disappoint.
"Before we begin…" he floundered, searching for a name d
"Commissioner Gordon… or Jim, if you prefer" filled in Gordon, gently. He had a feeling that the name "James" would be a sore spot at the moment.
"Yes,.Jim… before we begin I should point out that Joyce… Mrs Calhoun is not just my Head Housekeeper, but my sister, and so James is.. was…"
".your nephew, of course. We're so very sorry for your loss." Gordon made a note to talk to Bullock about missing that little piece of information off of his notes.. "I hasten to add that this is a purely informal discussion, Mr Samuels, we understand that you will have urgent matters to take care of, but I hope you appreciated we have things to do too. We need to get some facts straight as quickly as we can, whilst everyone's memory is fresh."
Samuels nodded. "Of course."
"Now firstly, how complete is your video surveillance in the hotel? Might there be any footage of the man who was in the penthouse."
Samuels nodded again "We have cameras on the lobby and the main lifts, we've never had the need for more coverage than that. We have the usual petty thefts every few months, but nothing major."
"We'd like to take a look at the tapes for the past couple of days."
"Of course Jim, of course, anything you think you need to help you, take it. Talk to the Front Desk, anyone gives you trouble, send them to me."
"Had James worked here long?"
"He helped out now and again, just sometimes when we were short staffed, nothing that would interfere with his studies you understand, his mother wouldn't permit it. But since his father left he's wanted to help his mother out and it was the least I could do for family. He helped in the kitchen, some room service. No serving alcohol of course..."
Gordon doubted that, but frankly didn't care. "And had he served the occupant of the Davis Suite?"
"I don't know, it's not normally one of his duties, we usually leave the upper floors to the more experienced staff. But it's possible he might have run up at some point. I'm sure the Kitchen will be able to tell you one way or the other."
"Mr Samuels, I'm sorry that I have to ask this question. It appears that before he was killed James was subjected to a serious sexual assault… were you aware of any history he might have had of engaging in that sort of behaviour? With guests or otherwise."
Samuels looked as though he'd just been punched in the gut. He literally went grey, and his mouth worked silently in a combination of betrayal and outrage. This policeman had presented himself as an ally, and here he was asking dreadful questions
He gathered what little dignity he felt he had to shout. "How dare you… How DARE you…? There's a grotesque murder in my hotel, my nephew is the innocent victim, my only other living relative is insane with grief and you ask me an abominable question like that? What kind of a man are you? Don't you have family?"
Gordon kept his voice quiet and steady, "Yes I do Mr Samuels, and I value them over anything else in my life. As I said, I'm sorry, but these questions have to be asked… to ensure that this doesn't happen to another family, and that I don't need to ask these questions of anyone else."
Samuels wasn't about to be mollified though, he stood up, the session was clearly over. Gordon couldn't blame him.
"I will say this only once. James was not involved in anything of the sort that you suggested. If you wish to ask me any more questions _Commissioner_, my lawyer and I will make ourselves available. You'll see yourself out I hope."
Gordon stood and offered his hand, which was ignored, "I'm sorry that you feel that way Mr Samuels". and he meant it. He turned and left the office.
"That went well" Pulaski offered dryly.
"Better than it might have done, this one didn't try to punch me."
"That happen much here?"
"Happens everywhere, as I'm sure you know"
"I was thinking it might get more extreme in Gotham for some reason…"
"At least we got his permission to take the video tapes. Sometimes they're a whole lot fussier about that"
"Next stop?"
"Back to the scene, show our faces for a few minutes to keep the troops resolve up and after that we have to come up with something to feed the media vultures."
"I didn't see to many of them on the way up."
"After last nights events, this probably won't make much of a splash, sad to say."
"Might be easier on the family that way."
"There's no such thing as making this easier."
"…except by catching the scum who did it." The mantra of cops the world over.
"Amen."
The two walked back to the hotel room in silence.
Gordon surveyed the crime scene with a heavy heart and the overly familiar taste of bile rising in his throat. The penthouse had already taken on the smell he always associated with murder scenes, a mixture of copper, wet fabric and slightly spoiled meat. It didn't matter how the person had died, the smell was always there, in the background. Or maybe it was just him, it wasn't something you brought up with your officers or colleagues, you tended to get odd looks.
The victims mother had been escorted away by the paramedics, in a state of deep shock, after screaming her lungs out for half an hour. She'd been found by another waiter on the floor, drawn to the noise she was making by a complaint from a guest down the corridor (Who hadn't even bothered to come out and see what was going on). The waiter wasn't in much better condition himself, but had at least managed to get the alarm raised before becoming hysterical.
The body had been covered with a sheet after the photos had been taken and it… he, Gordon corrected himself, _he_ was almost ready for the Coroner's team to take away. Gordon almost couldn't bring himself to look at the body, he knew he'd have to be looking at photos within a few hours, and this was another horror he didn't want to see. He'd seen too much in the past few days. But another voice inside him, the voice of a sergeant who'd taken him under wing years before (before anyone had ever thought that there needed to be a word like "mentoring"), chided him gently. "Just because you're in charge, it doesn't mean you get to make everything go your way."
Gordon couldn't leave his team dealing with something he couldn't handle himself. He went over, lifted the sheet, and looked at the still form. He shook his head. Words failed him and he moved away.
He noticed that the other officers around the room were, again, muted in their conversations, most took great pains to look at walls, floors, anything but the reason they were there.
There were always notes up in the GCPD locker-rooms advising officers of recent escapees from Arkham or Blackgate, so they might be prepared for what they might have to deal with. There was a healthy trade in shifts sometimes, a Two-Face for two or three Riddler's (depending on how manic he was at the time), four Penguins for a Scarecrow (Penguin was ruthless and scheming, but at least he tended to stick to normal crimes most of the time), a Joker for three weeks of anything else. Highly improper of course, but Gordon was prepared to let it slide if it meant he had a full roster when he needed them. He wondered how much a Corinthian shift was going for, whatever it was he bet it was increasing by the hour.
Bullock rolled into view. Gordon never ceased to wonder how Bullock, who generally had the appearance of a badly dressed pile of jello, could manage to pick his way through a crime scene in such a seemingly haphazard fashion without actually disturbing anything. It was fascinating to watch, like a car accident that never quite happened. Gordon was reminded of a documentary he'd seen on hippos; on land, hulking brutes, but in water, their natural element, strangely graceful. He wondered how the hell the words "graceful" and "Bullock" had ever occurred to him in conjunction, he clearly needed more sleep, which wasn't going to be coming anytime soon.
"We got the details Commish. Kid worked here part time, waiter, kitchen, general gopher but wasn't supposed to be up on this floor tonight."
"Was this a rape?" came a weary voice from the doorway.
Agent Pulaski stood there, shadowed by Agent Smith. Neither looked pleased to be there, which was hardly a surprise.
Hell of an entry line, Gordon thought, but he looked over at one of the Medical Examiner in askance, the ME nodded in reply.
Pulaski shook her head, "Thought so, probably means he's been hunting."
Gordon was curious despite himself, "'Hunt'? You mean like stalking? Does he do it often?"
"Not often, but we've seen him do it. Not when he takes kids off the street, but if he's after someone who isn't on the game, he's been known to follow them around for a while. Comes back later and makes the kill, but he always rapes in those cases, wants to make it worth his while or something. A hotel like this is the perfect environment for that kind of thing."
Smith spoke softly "We've had cases where he broke into the house of the victim, looked around their room whilst they slept. One time, my first time on this case, he even made himself a sandwich and fed the family dog, then just left. Came back two days later and… well, I will never that crime scene if I live to be a hundred. I thought I'd seen evil before, but…."
Gordon shivered, not a sensation he was used to. There was something about the self-control required to do such an…. unsettling thing that worried him more than murderous rage. He'd seen both, and the former was always more disturbing than the latter, just interview the Joker a couple of times if you want to know the difference. He'd once had to spend over an hour listening to that chalk-faced ghoul explaining how he'd actually _kept_ someone from dying for four days, just for fun. He'd had more nightmares from that than he'd had from most of the Jokers killing sprees.
"This time there's a twist, even for him I'll bet"
"Astound me."
"Well, I warned you. He made the kill, and some other things, in private, then called the boys mother, she works here in Housekeeping, to call her up to the room. When she got here, he was gone, but her son…"
Pulaski blanched "Yes, that's a new one."
"That's Gotham for you, it even brings out the best in our visitors. Yesterday he worked on quantity, today it's quality."
"I just love this town of yours Gordon. Remind me never to retire here"
"If you need reminding, you're qualified to stay. By the way, I meant to say, sorry about this morning and our discussion about our… absent friend"
Pulaski made a dismissive gesture, "No problem, none of us were at our best. Plus, I've dealt with a couple of these types in my time. He's reputed to the be worst of them all."
"And the best… in many ways", Gordon found himself almost reflexively defending the man he'd been shouting at mere hours before.
Pulaski smiled slightly, "He gets results true… if one is prepared to be a little flexible about the letter of the law. Is there any chance of him paying a visit here this evening?"
"I don't know, it's a distinct possibility though."
"You never can tell" came a deep voice behind them.
The FBI agents almost, but not quite, jumped. They turned around… to find Bullock standing behind them, a grin sprawled across his face. "Sorry, couldn't resist" he said in his own voice. He chuckled as he went back to his business, caught a couple of the other cops staring at him with open disgust and shrugged, but he quieted down.
"You'll find that Detective Bullock is the master of inappropriate humour." Gordon stressed the "inappropriate" rather strongly.
Agent Smith spoke in elegantly disapproving tones. "So I'd surmised. Bullock if you are Batman I, for one, would very much like to see you jump off a tall building."
Bullock bristled and was clearly about to retort, as Gordon moved off to one side, with Pulaski following.
"I think we should talk to the Hotel Manager, he may be able to shed some light on this while it's fresh."
"And the mother?
"She was taken away under sedation, between her, Ma Graves and the girls from the house last night, we're racking up the spaces in the Psych evaluation ward this week"
"I had Smith interview the girls today, he's had experience in that area", Agent Pulaski said, "Luckily, they didn't see what the Corinthian did to their friends, he _just_ shut them up in a room and let them listen to what went on, which was more than bad enough. Your officers, who seem to have way to much experience with this sort of situation for my tastes by the way, made sure they never saw the bodies as they were found. We have secure accommodation for them sorted out thanks to some sort of scheme from one of the local benefactors, the Wayne Something-or-other. The girls should recover, eventually, but it'll be a long time before the nightmares fade. As for Graves, well, it'll be a long, long time before she's in her right mind again."
"Not that she ever was…" Came a mutter from Bullocks approximate direction (He and Smith had shut up, clearly feeling this was neither the time nor place to argue loudly). Gordon wanted to agree but said nothing…
He changed the subject. "Would you care to sit on the prelim with the Manager Agent Pulaski? There might be elements to the case I wouldn't think to ask about."
"In this town, I doubt it, but sure I'll sit in."
"Thanks…"
"What's the rep on this hotel like?"
Gordon shrugged, "As far as I know, pretty good, all things considered. I mean, all hotels have some sort of past if you look back far enough, and this is Gotham, chances are they've lost a guest or two over the years one way or the other. It's a downtown hotel, so I'm sure there are a few local pro's who know some of the desk staff by their first name, and doubtless had a couple of high profile scandals over the years, but nothing major that I've ever been aware of. Does that look like 'Samuels' or 'Samuelson' to you?" Bullock's handwriting was as awful as ever.
Pulaski looked over at the scrawl on the pad "Actually, my first bet would be Simons actually, but if I had to choose between your choices, I'd say Samuels."
They broke off conversation as they approached the office of the Hotel Manager, who _was_ a Mr Samuels. A short, pudgy, middle-aged man with, who one could imagine fussing around guests or ordering his staff around with an efficient air. Now he was pacing the floor of his rather cluttered office with nervous energy, and looked pale and stressed. An opened bottle sat on his desk and there was no sign of a glass.
As soon as he saw Gordon his face changed, to a look Gordon had seen many times in the past, it was a look that said "I do not know who you are personally, but you are a Police Officer in a position of authority and I will therefore unload all my stress on to you."
They shut the door behind them and sat down, waiting for Samuels to say something. He didn't disappoint.
"Before we begin…" he floundered, searching for a name d
"Commissioner Gordon… or Jim, if you prefer" filled in Gordon, gently. He had a feeling that the name "James" would be a sore spot at the moment.
"Yes,.Jim… before we begin I should point out that Joyce… Mrs Calhoun is not just my Head Housekeeper, but my sister, and so James is.. was…"
".your nephew, of course. We're so very sorry for your loss." Gordon made a note to talk to Bullock about missing that little piece of information off of his notes.. "I hasten to add that this is a purely informal discussion, Mr Samuels, we understand that you will have urgent matters to take care of, but I hope you appreciated we have things to do too. We need to get some facts straight as quickly as we can, whilst everyone's memory is fresh."
Samuels nodded. "Of course."
"Now firstly, how complete is your video surveillance in the hotel? Might there be any footage of the man who was in the penthouse."
Samuels nodded again "We have cameras on the lobby and the main lifts, we've never had the need for more coverage than that. We have the usual petty thefts every few months, but nothing major."
"We'd like to take a look at the tapes for the past couple of days."
"Of course Jim, of course, anything you think you need to help you, take it. Talk to the Front Desk, anyone gives you trouble, send them to me."
"Had James worked here long?"
"He helped out now and again, just sometimes when we were short staffed, nothing that would interfere with his studies you understand, his mother wouldn't permit it. But since his father left he's wanted to help his mother out and it was the least I could do for family. He helped in the kitchen, some room service. No serving alcohol of course..."
Gordon doubted that, but frankly didn't care. "And had he served the occupant of the Davis Suite?"
"I don't know, it's not normally one of his duties, we usually leave the upper floors to the more experienced staff. But it's possible he might have run up at some point. I'm sure the Kitchen will be able to tell you one way or the other."
"Mr Samuels, I'm sorry that I have to ask this question. It appears that before he was killed James was subjected to a serious sexual assault… were you aware of any history he might have had of engaging in that sort of behaviour? With guests or otherwise."
Samuels looked as though he'd just been punched in the gut. He literally went grey, and his mouth worked silently in a combination of betrayal and outrage. This policeman had presented himself as an ally, and here he was asking dreadful questions
He gathered what little dignity he felt he had to shout. "How dare you… How DARE you…? There's a grotesque murder in my hotel, my nephew is the innocent victim, my only other living relative is insane with grief and you ask me an abominable question like that? What kind of a man are you? Don't you have family?"
Gordon kept his voice quiet and steady, "Yes I do Mr Samuels, and I value them over anything else in my life. As I said, I'm sorry, but these questions have to be asked… to ensure that this doesn't happen to another family, and that I don't need to ask these questions of anyone else."
Samuels wasn't about to be mollified though, he stood up, the session was clearly over. Gordon couldn't blame him.
"I will say this only once. James was not involved in anything of the sort that you suggested. If you wish to ask me any more questions _Commissioner_, my lawyer and I will make ourselves available. You'll see yourself out I hope."
Gordon stood and offered his hand, which was ignored, "I'm sorry that you feel that way Mr Samuels". and he meant it. He turned and left the office.
"That went well" Pulaski offered dryly.
"Better than it might have done, this one didn't try to punch me."
"That happen much here?"
"Happens everywhere, as I'm sure you know"
"I was thinking it might get more extreme in Gotham for some reason…"
"At least we got his permission to take the video tapes. Sometimes they're a whole lot fussier about that"
"Next stop?"
"Back to the scene, show our faces for a few minutes to keep the troops resolve up and after that we have to come up with something to feed the media vultures."
"I didn't see to many of them on the way up."
"After last nights events, this probably won't make much of a splash, sad to say."
"Might be easier on the family that way."
"There's no such thing as making this easier."
"…except by catching the scum who did it." The mantra of cops the world over.
"Amen."
The two walked back to the hotel room in silence.