Blood Rush

Chapter Thirteen: The Ladies in Question

The Gotham City Police Department were thorough; and once the Ringmaster had informed the police that the Circus—whether it had been one person or three people—whom had known that Lila Valeska had already been dead and moved to a different location in order to be given a proper burial, they were suspicious that Haley's Circus had the most potential suspects. Owen and Allen…Deedee didn't know them by their first names. But it had always been an ongoing feud between the Graysons and the Lloyds—it didn't surprise her to find out that soon after her act had ended, there had been a Circus brawl break out under the big tent over Lila. One probably thought that she loved him over the other: Ah, Deedee thought as Circus family were handcuffed, the love triangle trope.

"We'd like you two to come in as well," Detective Jim Broody Type Gordon had informed Deedee and Jerome. "It would help to get more insight about your mother, to catch whomever did this."

Awfully self-righteous for a Gotham pig.

He looked too young to be jaded, not like the rest of them on the streets. He was probably one of the last ones left who thought he could make a difference in the scheme of things. Even after locking up criminals like the Balloon man—quite a character, that one—and then that fellow Jack Gruber—he really liked to experiment with all things electrical; that doctor who liked to take things too far with phobias—and that handsome philanthropist Richard Sionis who had a bad rap for his employees—

Jim Gordon, still thinking that there is still in good people.

That man has got some darkness in him, for sure, Deedee thought as she stepped a foot over the threshold to stand in the bullpen of the Gotham City Police Department. Still dressed in her tinkling, fire red and orange costume, Deedee side-glanced Jerome when he was taken into an interrogation room with Detective Gordon. Realizing that they weren't going to be telling their sides in the same room, Deedee's stomach turned when a scruffy, fedora-hatted Detective Harvey Bullock brought her into Interrogation Room Number Two—That's what it said on the door anyway.

"Detective Bullock," the cop flashed his identification quickly before beckoning Deedee to take a seat opposite of him.

"I can read," said Deedee dryly.

She didn't intend for her tone to be so disrespectful. He might have actually been a very polite gentleman, perhaps; but he looked old enough, jaded enough to doubt every word that would come out of her mouth. Deedee passed a hand through her auburn hair uncomfortably; he looked like some of the viewers in the audience who would have tried to make a pass at her. Hell, even perhaps Lila might have given him the time of day. However, Bullock handed her a small mug of coffee and a sugar packet.

"Do Circus people drink coffee?" he asked curiously.

"Do you?"

"I do."

"Then yes," said Deedee. "Where's my brother?"

"Ah, your brother. Jerome?" Bullock indicated the room beside this one. "He's with Detective Gordon, answering his questions. I'll try to make this real quick, yeah? You're a…pyro…?" he surmised her costume.

"Fire dancer."

"You often get hurt doing a job like that?"

"Don't you get hurt in a job like yours?" Deedee said. There is that tone again.

"I get the sense that you don't like me very much."

"I don't like outsiders," confessed Deedee. "I don't care to be in a room with men I don't know, either."

"I'm a cop." And he said it like it's supposed to comfort me…

"That doesn't mean shit to me," said Deedee.

Bullock furrowed his brow, and then he took a seat in front of her, "I'm here to help."

Deedee considered him for a moment, but then said, "I don't like outsiders because people outside the Circus believe that we are all different. Like we don't do the same things they do everyday. I drink coffee the same way as anyone else who likes coffee drinks coffee. My job is no dangerous than anyone who fights fires or investigates murders…like yours," she gestured to him.

Bullock nodded, "How old are you, Delilah—?"

"Deedee." Deedee said sternly. "I go by Deedee; and I'm eighteen."

"I assumed that you would like to go by 'Delilah'? It's a beautiful name. That's referenced from your mother."

"Yes."

"But you don't like your name."

"No."

"Is it because you didn't like Lila?" asked Bullock casually.

"She was my mother, and I loved her," said Deedee.

"Don't you think you'd honor your beloved mother's memory by going by your birth name?"

"No," said Deedee. "I go by Deedee."

Bullock stared at her for a half-second. Deedee wondered if her callous tone coupled with her abhorrence to be called Delilah might have him wondering if she was at all the grieving sibling of their suddenly late mother. She cleared her throat nervously, but met Bullock's gaze with a convincing sad gaze.

"I don't mean to sound cold, Detective," said Deedee softly. "I only just found out that Mom is gone… People deal with grief differently, you see. I tend to act very angry when it comes to dealing with difficult emotions…"

"Ah, yes," Bullock nodded understandably so. "You're the oldest after all. Gotta seem like a cold-stone fox in front of your brother. Deedee…How did you feel about your mother's love life?"

Deedee shrugged.

"She had many partners, I assume," said Bullock.

"Yes." Deedee answered.

"Did that ever bother you?"

"No solid father figure," said Deedee with a small chuckle. "I didn't get to know any of them, really."

"But Mr. Grayson?"

"I do know him."

"Mr. Lloyd?"

"Him too," said Deedee.

"They were involved with Lila?"

"Yes," said Deedee.

"Anyone else that you know of?"

"They were in and out," said Deedee, cupping her mug of coffee. "I would mostly just stay in the room with Jerome."

"Do you know anyone with a grudge against Lila?" asked Bullock.

Me…

"No," answered Deedee. "But I guess having that many people sleeping with you ought to create some tension, doesn't it? Clearly, it happened between Mr. Lloyd and Mr. Grayson. But Mom was never good at keeping commitments, you know. Bit flighty."

"What about you?" asked Bullock.

Deedee's face flickered with confusion. "Me?"

"Look, Deedee. I know my mother, right—" Ah, he's trying to empathize with me. "—Now if I had been dating someone that my mother didn't like, any girlfriend I had would have just decided to get rid of Mom so we could be together. Anything like that happen to you? You have any vexed lovers that didn't like your mom?"

My brother could fit that description to a 'T'…

"I don't date," said Deedee.

"No one at all?"

"No." Deedee answered. She added a smile, "Carnies at Haley's Circus don't really make great long-distance relationships, Detective."

Bullock nodded.

"What about your brother?" he said. "Any known girlfriends that would want your mother gone?"

Deedee felt her cheeks burn. The idea of Jerome getting into bed with another girl was—

"Whoa…" Bullock shook his head, "Hey, hey, hey…" A consoling hand fell upon Deedee's on the table…

Deedee glanced down. She realized in silent dismay that she had clenched her fist, tight enough to make her knuckles white. Shoulders tensed, a fixed jaw, Deedee's body had betrayed the calm that she had hoped to portray. Jerome would be displeased. It was a harsh reaction to an innocent question about her brother. Deedee cleared her throat again, took a breath,

"I'm sorry, Detective, I—"

"You're pretty protective over Jerome, aren't you?" Bullock said. "Guess you had to be, huh?"

"Yeah…" Deedee breathed. She sipped from her coffee mug.

"Other than Jerome," said Bullock, "do you have any other family?"

Jeremiah…Mr. Cicero, deadbeat dad of mine who 'witnessed' the murder of our mother—

Deedee offered Bullock a small smile, "The Circus is my family."

Bullock nodded. He rose to his feet, "Right, well, I think we're done here." He paused. "You didn't answer my question, though."

"What question?" Deedee asked, getting to her feet.

"Does Jerome have any pretty ladies who were waiting for your momma to kick the bucket?"

Deedee stared at him. His question was a test, a baseline for her reaction.

"No." Deedee said, trying to keep the agitation out of her voice. "He doesn't."

"Are you sure? No one he'd be seeing in secret—?"

"No one." Deedee remarked. "He doesn't date."

She saw herself out of the interrogation room. Jerome had already answered all the detective's questions for Deedee spotted Lee and Gordon standing on the perch of the bullpen, chatting to each other—Lee smiling her perfect smile—

Perhaps Deedee had been able to disillusion Harvey Bullock's suspicion if he had any, especially centered around Jerome. But she had a gut feeling that his suspicion wasn't on Jerome at all. Deedee chastised herself; she reacted the most when Bullock had asked about Jerome having any girlfriends—Stupid! Maybe Bullock could really have believed that she was just an overprotective sister…

But that idea that had slowly been keeping Deedee afloat vanished when she spotted a man in a suit, using a cane to support himself, wearing a nice hat and shades—

Oh, come on…

Mr. Cicero.

He'd tell Detective Gordon and Detective Bullock about the incest, for sure…And then what conclusions would they come to during the investigation…?