Vic returned to the station. Charlie was off-duty, but Kori had said there was a note for him. He made his way through cramped hallways. It was odd, but the station seemed smaller late at night, when no one else was there, and there was less room in the halls when they were empty. He found Charlie's dispatch booth without an issue. What he found in Charlie's booth was.
"Kaitlin." He knew her by sight- small, pretty, glossy dark hair, came up to his elbow. She had cheated on Charlie with another cop. Before knowing her, Vic already didn't have a very good opinion of the woman. "Why are you in Charlie's dispatch?" No one called it a cubicle, even if Charlie was fond of office humor. He was a cop, to them, no matter what title he had.
"I'm- looking for something," she said, looking him dead in the eye. With the height difference, that meant she was looking up. Pretty far up. "He kicked me out of the apartment, but he doesn't understand. I saw him looking at Alex."
"He looked at her. You did a little more than look at Smith." Vic wasn't easily swayed. He knew Charlie. He didn't know details. He was trying not to judge, but Kaitlin wasn't making that very easy.
"Well, that's over. I'm sorry. He won't answer my calls, take pages, or open my e-mails."
"So you're fixing a bug in his radio." Vic was no slouch at electronics. She was no professional. He could see her "subtle" alterations behind her back with no problem. "Very likely to increase the precinct's opinion of you. Accountants are pretty easy to replace, if you're causing a bother. Charlie isn't going anywhere."
"Everyone takes his side." She gave an expression of innocence he had seen on many faces. Jinx had done it better, much better. He had fallen for her several times, even if principles got in the way of a real relationship. No matter how romantic it seemed, good and not-good (well, she wasn't really evil) wasn't a good basis for a relationship. Neither was I-spy and you're-also-a-spy.
"Maybe you should remember that. If you leave now, I'll look at exactly what you were trying to do to the dispatch booth, and, depending on what it was, fix it and give you a warning and rat you out to a few officers who will keep an eye on you, or tell the chief. You don't leave now, I call for back-up and you're arrested."
"You wouldn't dare. I'm an employee, and Adam's the son of our most generous contributor, and Mare's nephew."
"To you, she's Officer Lawrence. No wonder she doesn't bring him up much- he's hardly favorite-relative material. I'm not bluffing." He punched a button on his radio. Mare would be there in a minute- his radio was switched on, and she would hear everything. She was still in the station, booking hours and parking the car, details he would eventually take care of.
"Well, rookie, maybe you should. There's more in this station than you think. Adam can have you fired, in the middle of a huge scandal, or under a bit of duress. Don't make me mad- he'll set his friends on you. They're not very nice."
"You know, Kaitlin, it's really no wonder Charlie divorced you. I can see why Adam will never marry you. From all talk, he's dating that pretty rich starlet. You're nothing but a side dish, Kaitlin. It's a pity, but you're nothing to him." Vic hated to see the look on her face. She didn't believe him. She honestly thought something of the little affair.
"He'll break up with her next week, and then he'll be with me. Charlie was nice, but I know where he'll end up. Old, poor, and still here when he's seventy. Adam will retire while he's still a bit young, go to the Riviera, and we'll see the world." Her eyes were far away, seeing sights no one else could. "Just me and him. Charlie'll find somebody. She'll be happy to be poor. I'll have money, and power, and people will know my name."
"Kaitlin-" It was worthless.
"That's half of it. Kaitlin Morgan will finally be something but a number-crunching drudge. Just you watch- I have power in Gotham, more than you know. Adam has people in his pocket- mayoral advisors, cops, firefighters, politicians- and he'll use them. I'll have my own ways of spreading my name."
"That's it. Out of Charlie's booth, Kaitlin, or you can spread your influence from inside prison. I already know that you're guilty of tampering with police equipment and sabotage. Infidelity will only make you look bad in court." Vic was more than a little relieved to see Mare step around the corner. She knew the correct protocol.
"Kaitlin Morgan, you can be held overnight for probable damage to the police station, malicious slander, and we can later confirm charges of sabotage. If you leave the premises now, your belongings will be returned by courier. Acting in good faith, I will allow you to leave the premises now." Mare's voice was hard as steel, and her face was set like flint. All she needed was one spark, and there would be fire.
"I have power," Kaitlin hissed. "Adam won't be happy about this. Neither am I." With that, she stormed out of the station, grabbing only her mask. Vic was already removing an addition to the radios.
"It's bad. Remote incendiary, not timed- if she ever got mad, the system would blow. Listening on all channels, scanning capabilities- she has a genius friend, or is overqualified for her job." Vic brandished a microchip no larger than a fingernail.
"How do you see all that, just out of curiosity?" Mare asked, while watching to ensure Kaitlin left the building.
He tapped his left eye. "Zoom, technology readers- basically, that's the other side of my brain. Labs would have to whip out equipment. They can still verify, but there's enough data in this to get her fired." He picked up the note to read later. Reading didn't sound good to a tired mind- he really needed a recharge.
"I'll talk with the chief. You go home, partner. We're at ten sharp tomorrow- in the A.M., mind you." She knocked at the Chief's door, not surprised to find him inside. He was the definition of workaholic.
Just as Vic was leaving the precinct, he had yet another phone call. It was short, quick, and to the point- Nightwing was on patrol, so Dick called him. "I'm on route to talk to . . . an old acquaintance. If the powwow with your assassin happens, I'll call you in the morning with details. Sound good?"
"Sonic good," he said, borrowing a slogan as always. "Don't know what I'd do without you, Dick."
"Neither do I. And- if you ever need a bit of help, call me up. Dick Grayson can always take a break from being a desk jockey, Nightwing wouldn't mind helping out an officer- I've still got the boom."
"And I've got the sonic." They hung up. Vic went to his car, and for the first time that night, thought he actually might get some idea about the assassin who called herself Morrigan.
Nightwing was actually glad to hear the cameras to the Bludhaven Museum of the Arts were disconnected. Only a few were looped, and only Oracle caught the glitch in the new exhibit wing, featuring a display of local artists and work related to felines. If there was a better lure for Catwoman, she couldn't have planned it. Once Nightwing had the location, he decided to drop in.
"Catwoman," he said, as a greeting.
"'Wing," she replied, not looking away from a collection of paintings and sculpture. "So, I guess you're tired of the whole Christmas look? I remember your voice."
"You know you're not what the Egyptians had in mind," he said as she lifted a small gold carving from a glass display case. The statuette was in the style of Old Egypt, but was unmistakably a depiction of Catwoman.
"And you are? This artist was thinking of me. Too bad it's just leaf." She put the statue back, instead focusing on a necklace of semi-precious gemstones. Well, not everything was diamonds.
"No," he said, barely paying attention to queries or remarks. "I have an offer to make, Cat."
"Oh?"
"If you'll do me a little favor, a friend of mine in the detectives of Gotham will unfreeze a few assets for collaborating with police work. The department will stop using herbicides for police property in all of Gotham. Arkham will open visiting hours for a day."
"Pretty bait. What do you want? Foursomes don't seem your style. You've loosened up a bit, but you're too traditionalist. Besides, we're not your type, and we don't do that. We come to you, not the other way around."
"Not at all- I'm not even involved, except as messenger. You, Poison Ivy, and Harley Quinn have a little chat with Morrigan, loner vigilante. She isn't our target, but we have reason to believe she's watching a pretty big fish."
Catwoman yawned. "Any name for the supposed sardine she's tailing?"
"Slade." Every last one of Morrigan's victims had been somehow connected to Slade, by all reports. That was only conjecture, but the best guess Kori had. She'd left a message, finding the hints of a link just before giving up and going home. She hadn't slept for two days, and was getting cranky.
She looked at him suddenly, moving her neck so fast he was surprised to not hear a snap like a whip. "Half-face, mask, creepy guy? He doesn't always go for heroes."
"Oh?" 'Wing kept an icy front, glad for a mask. This was the first time he had heard of such a thing. Hive had been the first to work for Slade, but Dick had thought that a one-time deal.
"You've never heard of Flame. She was a protégé of mine, so good she never got caught, never had to use banter. Slade engaged her services. She ended up dead. The only known vigilante to ever come out alive and free? A little girl, fragile as anything from the outside- she's been on the run for a long time, waiting for a shot at revenge."
"Nice bedtime story, but why tell me?"
"She goes by Morrigan. If the police and name-guns will be aiming for Slade, not taking anything at her- I'll help. I'll need your word. If she gets dragged into the pen, I'll have a little unscheduled meeting with everyone involved."
"Morrigan won't be in any legal trouble- standard for informants." He had to ask. Ironic as it was, curiosity was killing him. "She was a villain before she met Slade?"
"She was a vigilante, chasing smalltime crooks. She ran into Slade. That's all that I ever found out." That was the most that was common knowledge to villains. Catwoman caught all important gossip. Curiosity helped the cat stay alive, after all.
She grinned. "Ask that rookie cop about Morrigan- she near killed him a few days ago. She could have, but she chose the dramatic exit route. Besides, no one kills good cops, except psychos like Joker."
"Thanks, Cat." He glanced at the exhibit. She was fingering a necklace. "You still can't take that."
"I don't want it. The settings are bad, it's purely decorative, and putting it on would break every last bit of glue off. And the little bit of cuneiform carving? Fake. All marks are perfectly even. Mark of an expert craftsman, right? Wrong. That was made from machine-made tools, not wedges of papyrus. Papyrus splinters."
"Thanks for the history lesson."
"Anytime."
He watched her go, seeing the sparkle of a stolen amulet tucked in her catsuit too late. Well, he had been trying to avoid staring at that gap in the outfit. He was married, after all, and Catwoman was too old for him. She was almost Bruce's age. Funny- he'd never really thought that Bruce Wayne could get old.
"Oracle? 'Wing." He knew she was listening.
"Copy, 'Wing."
"How much do you know about Morrigan?"
"Spell."
"M-O-R-R-I-G-A-N."
"Police had a knife carved with that word and an engraving of a dog, she's an assassin and vigilante. Bats knows about her. She only eyes after select lowlifes, and half the time has her target before I even know the criminal's there."
"So she's fast?"
"She's very fast. Did the station get a pattern? Not even my systems have anything but guesses."
"Catwoman gave a few tidbits to back up the station's theory."
"Who do they think?"
"Slade."
"Half-face, mask, creepy guy?"
He managed not to laugh. If he did, he would have to explain why her remark amused him. "Yeah, that's him."
"So, you're teaming up with her to go after him." She sounded more than a little incredulous. "The guy that always won before?"
"Basically, yes."
"Good luck. You'll need it. Over and out- Bats needs me."
"Thanks, Babs. Way to be encouraging," he muttered, heading closer to home. It was three A.M., nothing was happening, and Kori was home. He was done for the night- Catwoman could have her fun without a hint of supervision.