Chapter 3: The Dark Knight Begins Part II: The Batman
"Another Monday, another week of frustration" thought a red-brownish haired man in a crisp gray suit climbing the stairs of the GCPD.
The man, Detective James Gordon, had been working in the Homicide department of the Gotham City Police Department for almost a decade now, and in that time, had seen his ambition to be part of a force to help protect the citizens of Gotham from the criminals washed in frustration by the countless acts of corruption inside the department. Because the reality was that as good a man as Gordon is, he is but one man, and the system inside GCPD had been running with the crime families of Gotham for quite a while.
This system had seen Gordon, one of the best up and coming honest cops in the force, stuck in a detective role in homicide, away from the places where he could actually try and help turn GCPD around, and little by little, smothering his energy with a cloud of apathy and desperation at seeing the same things happen time and time again.
"Nevertheless" continued Gordon while saying Good Morning to Stacy, one of the receptionists at the front desk, "They haven't broken me yet." he thought as he took a seat at his desk and seeing a photo on his desk, and thinking of his reasons to continue, even while everyone told him to just "go along, so you can rise up the ranks." The photo was of his family, taken a few months before in an event at his eldest's preschool. The photo had a family of redheads all smiling at the camera, with Gordon and a beautiful red-headed woman holding a toddler, with their arms around an ecstatic red haired girl holding some sort of trophy. "Yes" thought Gordon, smiling at the picture, "I can keep going, even with all of this garbage around, for them."
"Mornin' Gordon" , a rough voice carrying a scent of mint, tobacco, and alcohol caught him in his reflection.
He turned from the photo on his desk, and in an apathetic tone he responded: "Flass" without being able to hide all the hostility in his voice. "Where were you last night, you promised to help me review the old files."
"Ah, don't be a wet blanket, old Jim, you will get an ulcer with all that stress, '' Detective Arnold Flass, his "partner" in the force for the past few years, responded. "I really was going to come in, but some of the boys caught me and invited me to have a few drinks, and you know these old papers will still be here, right? Nothin' going to change if we do them now or later." His tone really conveyed how little remorse he had for not coming the day before.
James looked at his so-called partner, and really couldn't hide the whole contempt from his face. Arnold Flass was a full representation of how low the GCPD had fallen in with the crime world of Gotham. A man that just didn't care about any other thing than himself. Gordon had time and again seen him use his badge as ways of getting his way, including more than a few "gifts" and "freebies" from the working citizens of the city. And was also sure that he had more than a few really illegal dealings under the rug, but could never actually get evidence that would stick or connect him directly, "not that the higher ups would do anything other than give him a slap on the hand, or even worse, a promotion" he thought with narrowing eyes.
"Ah, don't be giving me that disappointed parent lock, Jim. I know you're all goodie shoes or whatever, but what can I say? Unlike you, I know how to have a good ol' fun time around here."
"Whatever Flass, I'll still expect your share of the reports checked and in my desk by the end of the day, so I can file them in the archive correctly. And I'll remind you again, it's not Jim, it's either Gordon, or Detective."
"Yeah, Yeah… Sure Jim, whatever you say." Flass responded while standing from his desk and going towards the coffee maker where a few of his buddies were present laughing at something or other. Gordon sighed, knowing he will probably be stuck until late finishing the other part of the reports.
"Sarah will have me sleeping on the couch again… "he thought with another long sigh.
"I see you've had your daily dose of Flass for the morning" another tired voice from behind him commented.
Gordon chuckled a little, and turning his chair around responded "Tell me about it, at this point it won't be the cholesterol that kills me, or give my wife reasons to say that I'll have white hair by 40".
"I don't know, Jim, I can already see a few gray hairs here and there, and you see, the wives, they know about these things. Just look at me." Timothy Munroe, a detective in the Major Crimes Unit with quite a few graying hairs on his head, said with another small chuckle, passing a cup of fresh coffee to a grateful Jim.
"Wait, you're telling me that once upon a time you didn't have gray hair? Now I'm really worried."
Timothy responded with a laugh and a slap on his shoulder "Har Har, Jim. But give it a decade more of this, and you'll wish you looked as good as me."
Jim just chuckled at the one cop on the whole of GCPD who he called a friend. Timothy, or Tim for friends (like Jim for himself) had been both on homicide and Major Crimes Unit for over two decades and like himself, was one of those rare Gotham cops that actually took the oath to service seriously, and just like for Jim, that had led him on a road of frustration and dead ends in the force. But it'd given Jim at least a little hope that there were good people inside, and with them, maybe there could be some change eventually.
"So… you want some help with those?" Tim said while looking at all the files on both Jim's and Flass's desks.
"Don't you have your own messes to deal with?" Jim responded with a teasing smile.
"Nah, that mess would require some sort of bulldozer or the like to get through. At least with these I know that it can be done."
Jim laughed more loudly this time, recognizing his friend's dry humor, and remembering the one time he had seen the archives from Major Crimes. He was right, there was no getting around that one without some titanic strength or equipment.
"Well, if you're sure and have the time, my back would really appreciate it."
"Ah yes" Tim said with another laugh while pulling a chair, "I can guess that Sarah would send you to the couch if you're doing more extra long shifts. Hadn't even thought of that."
"How you never get in trouble with Jane, I'll never understand." Jim joked back.
"Who says I don't? Just because you have only seen the angel side of her, doesn't mean she only has that one."
Both cops chuckled again while starting on the probably very boring task.
A couple of hours later, both cops looked up their work when they heard a shout "What?! What the hell does he want? It's goddamned Monday, I don't need that smugged face before my breakfast."
"Sorry, sir, but he said that he would not leave until he saw you and that he would wait in your office." a female voice responded.
"Damned pretty boy." commissioner Loeb, a fat man with quite the balding spot, said while walking towards his office, with his female assistant walking by his side. "Listen to me well, girl. If you let that pretty boy into my office again without my consent, good luck findin' another job in this city."
"But, sir. I thought…"
"I don't care what your pretty little head thought. You answer only to me, and no one else. I don't pay you to think! Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir." the young woman responded with a lowered head and a glum tone.
"Ah, don't go crying on me, girl." the commissioner responded with a huff. "I need you pretty to do your job well, so get back to your desk and send for my breakfast." while giving a slap to her thigh.
The young woman only flinched, showing that this was probably a normal thing for her, and responded with a breath. "Yes, sir. It will be served shortly."
"Good. Now let's deal with that presumptuous pretty boy." Loeb continued walking towards his office, opening the door with more force than necessary and slamming it shut after entering.
Almost immediately after the sound of the slamming door faded, Tim stood up from his seat and went towards the still shaky young woman. "You okay, Stacy?"
She turned her head towards the detective and with a shaky smile replied "I'm okay, detective. Don't worry."
Said detective just shook his head and replied "Don't give that detective thing again, Stacy. It's Tim or Timothy if that is too much. And sure you're okay. Dealing with our intrepid boss leaves all of us always okay." he said with a sarcastic smile. "Come on, before you order Loeb's locust or whatever, take a deep breath and have one of Gordon's cookies, I know where he hides them."
"¡Hey!" Gordon's voice sounded a few steps away, "Have you been going through my desk?" he said with a mock glare.
"For Mama Gordon's recipe style cookies? Heck yeah! I can only hope one day I can taste the authentic ones, not that Sarah's aren't incredible, but think about how good the original ones may be? Seriously Jim, next time you visit your folks you have to take me or at least bring me a batch." Tim responded with a light slap at Jim's shoulder and a laugh, trying to pull the shaken young woman into the banter.
Jim got the cue and joked back with a smile "You think it's that easy? Just getting a batch for me would be difficult, let alone bringing them here. Why do you think I hide them in the first place?"
Stacy just looked at the back and forth, and with a deep breath seemed to relax and smile, even if it was still a little shaken: "I've never heard anything about these legendary cookies before, Detective. How come?"
"Sorry about that, Stacy. But I can't be sharing that kind of sensitive information out in the open." said Jim in a mock whisper. "Imagine the criminal activity that could create." he finished with a mock stern tone.
Stacy just giggled a little, almost without thinking and said: "Oh we can't have that kind of breach."
"You've no idea. I can't even imagine the chaos it would create. You've just been given access to a secret few know, Miss Clearwater. I hope you prove worthy of this trust?" Tim said with an impressive poker face.
Stacy giggled again, this time more animated "I'll do my best to, sir. Although I have to say that I hope you really have hidden one of these legendary cookies, Detective, because after hearing all of that, I can't say that I'm not curious."
Jim smiled again at the young woman, happy that they were able to bring her out of the bad experience that she had. It was not the first time unfortunately that this happened. In fact, it was through something similar (although involving the deputy commissioner) that he had met the young assistant a few months back. Coming back to his desk, Jim did in fact open a false bottom in one of his drawers, taking out a small square can that he then opened and offered to Stacy. "Here"
The young blonde haired woman took one of the cookies inside. "Oh, wow! These are really good. I understand now, Detective Munroe." she said with a smile, still savoring the treat.
"Again with the detective… " the Detective said with a frown. "But you see? Did I tell you or what? These are amazing!" and tried to take one cookie for himself. Tried being the operative word, because Gordon closed the can before he could take one. "¡HEY!" Tim said with a glare.
"Don't give me that." said Gordon with a stern tone. "I know you took two already."
"What? How could you even... You count them?"
"Of course I count them. You think Sarah makes these often? Not only does it take quite the time, but some of the ingredients are expensive. So forgive me for ensuring that I can enjoy them when I can." Gordon said with a huff.
"So your wife makes these, Detective? And the recipe comes from your mother?"
"Yeah. Just as this felon said. From what my mother says, it's an original recipe. She always has been quite the baker. She used to make them as a treat for my father or myself when "We earned them." " Gordon said with air quotes. "Obviously we didn't earn them quite often, so when we did, it was quite the struggle to get as many as we could. I never expected her to pass the recipe, but somehow Sarah was able to get to her, although both are quite mum about it. Sarah says that she asked for a way to make me and Babs behave. I'm not sure if she's joking or not." Jim said with a fond smile.
"Well, I second what Detective Munroe said. If you could get a batch of originals, it would be amazing to try them. I'm sure your wife could sell these with ease."
"That's the thing." Tim said after a moment. "Mama Gordon doesn't like that, see. She forbids selling them. I remember my wife asking Sarah that one day we were at this one's place." he finished making an arm gesture in Jim's direction.
"What are you looking at me for? I don't know. That's just something that my mother decided. Although Dad always said that was better "Remember son. The rarer the product, the more its value." he used to say all the time. Can't say that I fault the logic."
"Mmm…" Stacy pondered that for a moment, her hand on her chin in a thoughtful pose. "Maybe not the full recipe, but I can bet she could sell even a cheaper version and it would sell quite nice. Maybe even…" a bang and raised voice from the commissioner's office interrupted the thought. "Shoot. I really need to order his breakfast, otherwise he may really fire me." she said, turning around to walk back towards the front.
"As if, the old Loeb always says that and never does it." Tim responded. "Hey, Stacy?" he asked as she left, making her turn her head back. "Who is inside with him? I was one of the first here and didn't see anyone enter."
"Oh, It's D.A Dent. He was waiting at the reception even before I came in. Said that he was not leaving today unless he talked to the commissioner. I just told him to wait at his office so that no one talked too much. You know the commissioner, he doesn't care much about it." she finished turning back and walking away.
"Save us a seat at the lunch table. Then you can pass all the gossip." Tim said at her back as she left. He turned his head towards Gordon. "So Dent, huh? Maybe he really is the real deal?"
Harvey Dent, one of the more recognizable faces in Gotham these days, was the recently elected District Attorney for Gotham, being at 26 years old, the youngest ever elected to the position. He ran on a platform of taking back Gotham from the criminals and the corrupt, and promising a tough hand on any corruption. Most never thought that he would win, going against Denton Glover, who was deep in the pocket of probably everyone if you listened to the rumors, and had run unchallenged for quite some time. Nevertheless, and with even an attempt on his life in between, Dent surprised practically everyone by defeating Glover, and in the few months since the election, seemed to really be making an effort to take on the system.
Gordon wasn't sure where he was on Dent to be honest. At first he just saw him as a new shiny opposition for Glover to scapegoat for his continued "prosperity and respect for the traditional values." But as public opinion changed and Dent's chances started to improve, he actually checked his profile to learn more about him. Everything seemed to be crisp, best of his class at Yale, president of a student chapter for the ACLU, working pro-bono in some landmark cases protecting poor people from abuse, representing worker's unions, even getting a few indictments on known crooks in the Gotham underworld.
Throughout his years of duty, Gordon had become a bit cynical, many times before thinking that a change could be coming, only to see the system swallowing everything in its path, and the world keep spinning. But at least through the screaming rants of Loeb, Dent seemed to at least be trying to shake things up. Whether for better or worse… although how worse could there be than Gotham, right?
"Can't say for sure yet, but at least he really makes Loeb angry, and that has to be something." he said to Munroe, who just chuckled and said. "Damn right."
The next hour or so was only shaken by Flass coming to his desk and saying that he was "going to check a lead" and leaving, probably only to meet a few buddies and lose track or time or something, and a few more raised tones from the commissioner's office that could only be Loeb's. "The fact that he hasn't kicked Dent out says something, right?" said Tim after the third banging noise was heard. "Probably says more about Dent's position at the moment more than anything. Loeb knows that if the press heard a whiff of him treating the new and shiny young D.A. badly, there could actually be a public reaction." Jim said while sipping at his second cup of coffee.
Almost as if in reaction to their comments, the door of the office opened with both the D.A and the commissioner seen at the entrance. "As I said before, Mr. Dent. This department has been functioning effectively for some time now. I don't see the point of changing just for the sake of changing." Loeb said, clearly in a tone trying to pretend that his raised voice and banging sounds were products of the wind or something. Harvey Dent just smiled at the commissioner, but there was nothing friendly about said smile, but pure contempt, hiding behind a mask of cordiality "As I said, Commissioner, I respect and value your experienced opinion" you could hear the sarcasm in his voice "but in this case, it's about the pure interpretation of the law, and these changes in the department's methods are simply a way to comply with said law. The state AG has already voiced his support to this, considering that it would not increase the budget for the GCPD, and would limit the need for federal audits that could put political pressure on both him and the governor." to which the Commissioner's face reacted by reddening at his cheeks and just widening his smile. "Well, I guess in that case, the GCPD has to adapt, right? We'll get onto your changes as soon as possible." he said, although each word seemed to take a monumental effort to say.
Dent didn't seem to react in his mask of cordiality and responded: "I knew you were a man of great judgment, Commissioner. And as thank you for the effort that these will put on you and your people, I will send people from my office to support you in any way possible, and I will personally be involved myself, to lighten your load, so to say."
Gordon on the outside didn't react at all to anything he heard, his desk being close enough to hear this, but on the inside he couldn't say that he wasn't impressed with Dent's handling. Whatever these changes were being implemented, clearly Loeb didn't want them in any way, but by involving political pressure from the AG and the governor and offering to help directly, cut any effort of Loeb of just saying that he was going to implement them, and never actually doing it.
As this was happening, the phone on his desk rang. "Gordon," he said into the earpiece. "What? When was this? Okay, I'll be there as soon as possible. Keep me posted" he said while hanging the telephone and taking his suit's jacket from the chair as he stood up.
"Duty calls?" Tim said as he saw him get up.
"Yeah, apparently Theodore Lambert's been murdered."
"Really? Lambert, the chemical tycoon? Yeesh, that seems like a public shitshow."
"Hopefully not. I'll see you soon, Tim. Whatever time you can keep helping me it's appreciated."
"Don't worry, Jim. Good luck."
As Gordon started walking towards the exit, the commissioner's voice stopped him "Gordon, did I hear you right, Theodore Lambert's been murdered?"
"So it seems, Sir. I'm on my way to check the scene and start investigating."
"Very well. As soon as you know the details, I expect a report. Hopefully the press won't find it soon, otherwise we'll have the mayor here soon, Ted is a good friend of his. As soon as you can confirm anything, call me so that I can communicate to his family and the mayor. Understood?" Loeb said with a nervous expression.
Gordon internally just sighed, knowing that the commissioner only cared for his own standing in the political order, but nevertheless replied. "Of course, commissioner. I'll inform you as soon as I know." and he turned to continue his exit.
As he continued to walk, he soon found himself accompanied by Harvey Dent. "I hope you also keep my office informed, Detective Gordon, right?" he said as he walked beside him.
"Of course, Mr. Dent. I'll file the report as soon as we have something."
By this point they were at the front steps when Dent stopped, forcing Jim to stop and turn around. Dent just stared at Jim for a moment before he said "I've been wanting to meet for a while, Detective. Your record shows me you are one of the few cops I think I can really work with. So please, when I say contact my office, I really mean it. If this is really Lambert, it's a huge case, considering how many scandals seem connected to Ace Chemicals. It's a big opportunity." he said while handing him a card. "This has also my personal number. I look forward to working with you, Detective." and walked to his car.
Gordon just looked at the card for a moment, and decided to think about it later. For now, there was work to do.
"So it was an accident?"
"All the evidence indicates it, at least."
Gordon put his hand over his eyes in frustration, while standing beside the CSI in the large living room of the ostentatious house that already had quite a few officers going through it. "What do you mean?" he said with frustration mounting.
The CSI looked back to the current scene and replied: "Like I said, when we got the report of a dead body and with such a high profile individual, we assumed that it probably was a homicide, which is why homicide was called in, but to be honest, all the evidence points to an unfortunate accident, so no more job for you guys at least." His expression seemed to imply that the last comment was sincere.
Gordon didn't seem to find the commentary amusing: "How can you be so certain, it was only reported less than an hour ago."
The face of the CSI showed annoyance when he said: "With all due your respect, Detective Gordon, whether it was only an hour or so, me and my team know how to do our jobs, so when I'm telling you that it was an accident, that is because all the evidence suggests so. There was no one else in the house, there were no forced entries, and no evidence of foul play. It just seems that Mr. Lambert lost his balance and fell while in the kitchen, hitting his head and then accidentally getting stabbed by a knife that he was using at the time."
"There were no other prints on the knife."
"Only his son's, but we were confirmed by one of the Officers that he's not in the city."
Gordon only narrowed his eyes at this while looking around. His instincts were telling him that this was not as simple as an "unfortunate accident" especially considering the body that was currently being taken away. Theodore Lambert wasn't just any old businessman, he was one the owners of the infamous Ace Chemical Corporation, and even if you didn't believe the rumors about its connections to all the bad sides of Gotham, just the regular news will tell you all about the more than a couple of scandals and "settlements" that the company had paid to the government, families, employees, etc. It just felt more than a little suspicious.
With all that in mind, he said towards the other officer: "Nevertheless, until we're 100% sure that this was an accident, it will be treated as a possible homicide investigation, so I want the full report of the scene and all the evidence packed and ready to review back at GCPD."
His gut screamed again when he saw a flash of more than annoyance in the CSI's face: "Are you sure that is necessary, Detective? It seems like a waste of resources by the department…"
Gordon silenced with a scowl : "That is for homicide to decide, and I believe that finding the truth about the circumstances of his death is our job."
The not very disguised expressions he got not only from the CSI he was talking to, but others in the room told him enough. "And it is only Monday." he thought with another frustrated sigh.
In the next hours after the incident was reported, Gordon's frustration (alongside a painful headache) only continued to grow. The commissioner seemed all too ready to call it an accident as well, in a clear attempt to not affect his own stance in the system. Gordon was ready to go to Dent's office (although how much could he do considering that it was not being labeled a crime was an added complication) to at least get a few more hours to ascertain if there was foul play involved, but to the commissioner's dismay something happened that he clearly was not expecting.
Steven Crane, a business partner of Lambert and also partial owner of Ace Chemicals called the GCPD asking for Gordon, and with clear panic in his voice explained that he had received both through e-mails and by phone threats towards his life. Apparently this was normal business for him and was not going to report it in normal circumstances, but through the news he found out about Lambert's death, which made his fear for his business matter less and compelled him to ask for protection from the GCPD.
With the added death threats involved, it left enough room for doubt that Commissioner Loeb had no choice but to give Gordon time to make an investigation, which also led to sending a team to offer protection to Crane.
Currently, Gordon (alongside Flass) was waiting for the arrival of Lambert's son for questioning, while reviewing the reports from the scene in Lambert's house, alongside the emails shared by Crane, and any information on both Lambert and their shared business.
"This is pointless, Gordon. There is no case here." Flass said while munching on some peanuts sitting at one of the conference rooms in GCPD.
Gordon just sighed and continued reviewing while making notes on a notebook.
The silence didn't seem to affect Flass: "I mean, Crane said it himself, didn't he? He receives this kind of thing all the time, right? It's just bozos who have nothing better to do with their time. This time was just a coincidence with Lambert's accident."
Gordon just raised his eyes from his notebook : "Maybe, but it is our job to find out if that is the case or not. So do your job and contact Alfred Stryker and Paul Rogers."
Flass just gave him a look and said: "What, you're thinking they're going after the whole Ace chemical?"
"I don't know, which is why I want to find out. Go."
Flass huffed and with all the energy of someone that really didn't want to do it, got up and left the room. Gordon hoped that at least he would do what he asked instead of just wasting time.
A few minutes later, a tired looking young man was shown inside the room where Gordon was, wearing a gray business suit with a red tie. This man is Paul Lambert's son, Ashton Lambert, who was as of now, the heir of his father's share in Ace Chemicals.
"Mr. Lambert, thank you for coming on such short notice. I'm Detective James Gordon, I'm sorry for your loss." Gordon received the young man with his usual stern tone, but with some sympathy on the last part.
Ashton Lambert gave a tired small smile: "Thank you, Detective Gordon. And don't worry too much. Right now, anything I can do to understand what happened, I'll gladly help."
"Understand? Forgive me if I'm offending you, but you don't believe it was an accident?"
Lambert's face was marred by a frown and responded: "Accident? Oh, I'm sure that is what it's supposed to look like and accepted by the public, but believe me, I know my father; Hitting his head while preparing his breakfast? No way he would die like that."
Gordon's face didn't show his surprise at the words, and indicating to one of the chairs in the room for Lambert to take a seat, he sat down. "Well, forgive me, while I can't confirm anything right now. All the evidence does point towards an accident, and this is just to ensure that we are doing all the procedures. And besides, I don't think even one like your father can choose how we pass on."
Lambert just responded in a flat tone: "Look, Detective; I don't want to beat around the bush. I know you have suspicions also, otherwise, procedure or not procedure, you wouldn't be talking with me right now. And while I didn't have a great relationship with my father, what I meant is that it goes against his whole way of doing things. From what I was told, he was alone in the room when he died, and my father always has people for anything he needs, and he is paranoid, no way can he be alone in the house long enough for something like an accident like that to happen." The more he talked, the more his emotions showed, alongside wild hand gestures.
Gordon's instincts started to flare while the young man talked. "Alright, let's say that I do have some suspicions. I can presume that I have your full cooperation? Forgive me again if I offend you, but from where I stand, your complicated relationship with your father is quite public, and you have a lot to gain from his death. So why cooperate? Why tell me all of this?"
"Look, my father and I have a lot of issues, as you have said. But he is still my father, and even if it is just for my siblings, I can at least care enough to ensure that I know the full truth of what happened. And from what I gain? I don't care for Ace. To be honest, that $% & company is most of the reason for my fights with my father. So do your job, and ask me questions."
Gordon wasn't sure what to think about this. But one thing was for certain, there was certainly more to this "accident" than it looked.
An hour or so later, Jim was almost certain that this case was more than an accident. The way his son described him, Paul Lambert seemed to be paranoid of others to the point that he had people testing his food and drink every time, bodyguards around the clock, and a full staff to his beck and call. So how was it possible that a man like that could hit this head in the kitchen, be stabbed by a falling knife, and be bleeding out for long enough to die before anyone could notice.
The only issue here were the prints, which now could be confirmed indeed to be from his son. He said that he had been to his father's house a couple of days before for a business meeting, but couldn't explain his prints on the knife. Even if you thought he could be the killer, there were plenty of witnesses that put him outside of the city at around the time of the death. So, what was he missing?
With the testimony of his son, at least Gordon had enough to cast suspicion and treat this as a possible murder, and just hopped that Flass could get a hold of Stryker and Rogers before his hunch turned to be right.
At the moment we are describing, Gordon was on his way to the morgue of GCPD, to check with the Medical Examiner on his progress on the autopsy on Lambert's body, when a loud voice stopped him.
"Gordon! What is the meaning of this?" Commissioner Loeb's voice boomed in the hallway, making every other person hurry their steps out of said commissioner's way. "I received word that Lambert's death was an accident, and now I hear that you called his son to question him, and are opening a file on the case? What in the blazes name do you think you're doing?" the Commissioner screamed in Jim's face with a higher tone in each word.
"Commissioner, with all due respect, I'm just doing my job." Gordon answered with an almost imperceptible sigh. "I was just going to check a few things quietly, according to your instructions," he emphasized "just to ensure that we can present his family, and all his friends, with the appropriate answers." Taking a small breath, he continued "Besides, as you pointed out in the morning, accident or not, Paul Lambert is big enough in the city that there will be questions asked, especially by the media. Wouldn't you prefer to have full answers once that happens, and prove that the department can handle things efficiently?"
See, inside the GCPD, even if you didn't care for it, the shadow of politics and its games were always around, and in his time on the force, Jim Gordon had certainly learned how to play, even if it disgusted him. After all, if he wanted to at least make a positive change, the only way to at least be able to do his job was how to spin it in way that the higher ups (like a currently "thoughtful", if you could call him that, Loeb) to see it as a way to advance or maintain their status. If the now narrowed eyes and sparkling glee that could be detected on the Commissioner were any indication, Jim had learned to play correctly.
"Well… Yes, yes, you're quite correct, my boy." he said with his large brutish hand on Gordon's shoulder. "I'm always saying that our mission here is not only providing Justice for the community, but also, to ensure that we always pay them for the trust that they give us." His almost cartoonish hypocrisy didn't seem to register on his gleeful attitude. " It's good that you have been listening to me, Gordon. That's why I'm always saying that you are one of our best. Keep up the good work, and keep me posted on anything you learn. So that we can inform the family and his friends. Now, if you excuse me, I promised the mayor that I would keep him informed."
And with that said, Loeb walked away, leaving Gordon with a larger headache, but at least "permission" to keep investigating.
He was just about to keep going towards the medical office, when his phone rang. Hopefully it would be Flass to inform him of his progress.
"So he fell asleep on the wheel?" Gordon asked while looking at the paramedics and CSI on the scene.
"Yeah, apparently after he called the GCPD about the threats, he started screaming to his assistant and a few employees, and ran around saying things about "They are not getting me" and the like, and went running towards his car." Flass said while munching on something, Jim was not really paying attention to what. "Thankfully the crazy man wasn't yet on the main road, otherwise he would have killed some ol' Joe."
Jim took his glasses off and started to clean them (and heard his wife's voice in his head: "You always do that when you're nervous or stressed" with a loving smile on her face) as he frowned towards the scene. "Well, now it really is a shitshow," he said in a deadpan tone. Flass's call had been, not to report his progress in contacting Rogers and Stryker per se, but to tell Jim that Steven Crane, one of four main partners at Ace Chemicals, and the man to call that morning to report threats on his life, was dead in a traffic accident. Apparently after leaving in his car, he had not been able to go far before falling asleep and wrecking his car on the side of one of the plant's buildings. He had made the rare showing today at Ace main plant, sounding as if the devil himself was after his steps.
"You can say that again, Jimboy. Even if I don't like the extra work, this one's definitely something all right. You thinkin' that Lambert's son or the other partners could be doin' hits?"
Jim put his glasses back: "Can't say for sure, but Ace is in the middle of it. You were able to contact Stryker and Rogers?"
Flass finished munching and threw away the package on the street, "Yes on Stryker. He is home, safe and all that. Negative on Rogers, last I can confirm he was seen two days ago at that party the Wayne brat threw at his mansion."
Jim wasn't sure what to make of the "brat" commentary, but it was not important at the moment. "That could either mean we are too late and Rogers could be killed, or he could be the one behind it."
"I don't know, Jimbo, this corporate stuff isn't my scene, but if two of my partners were killed and I wasn't around for even a word, well, that is more than fishy, I'll say."
"He's not wrong," Jim thought to his insides, trying to connect the facts that he knew and see possible motives, and players. There was no doubt in his mind that Ace Chemicals was in the middle of this, and clearly whoever was doing this had enough motive to go to great lengths to make the deaths appear as accidental as possible. Rogers, as the missing player, clearly could be in it, and while Stryker wasn't appearing as suspicious, that didn't mean he couldn't benefit from this. There was also Ashton Lambert to consider, his comments could after all be all part of the ruse.
"There is one part of this that still doesn't fit for me" Jim said out loud, "Even if is Rogers, Stryker, Ashton Lambert or anyone else in their families, I don't fully see the play, after all, both Lambert and Crane had family so it would make sense for their share of the company to go to them. So if Ace is the end goal here, clearly there is more to this than just taking out the head partners." He continued while taking out a cigarette and lighting it on his mouth "God help me if Sarah finds out." He thought with a small shudder. His wife certainly wasn't shy about his old habit that he picked up in college, and she was more than trying to make him stop, but every now and then, especially in cases like this, he couldn't really help himself.
"I need to talk to the CSI and the first responders" Jim finally said after a moment and turned to his troublesome partner "Look, I know you're not one that likes this kind of stuff and the like, but this is one is a big case, you can tell, so I would really appreciate your help and effort on this one, Flass, if we have a chance to actually catch whoever is behind this."
Flass just grumbled and took out a flask (with probably some cheap whisky or the like) and took a large gulp of it "Ah, what the heck, could be some interesting rewards if we actually pull this off, so yeah, count on me this one time, partner." he said with a slap to Jim's shoulder.
Jim wasn't sure if that answer was something he liked but better to have him onboard that to have him as a nuisance. "Ok, call the Commissioner and report what we have, then put an APB on Rogers, and call Stryker to see if we can ask a few questions. At least with that we can start to try and get a gleam on this."
"Ah, leaving me to talk to Loeb. Knew you were smart, Jim, even if you are a boy scout." and with that said, Flass took out his phone and left Jim to make calls.
Jim sighed and took his glasses off for a second time in a few minutes. "Only Monday." he said before going to talk to the CSI and officers on the scene.
Jim arrived home a few hours later with a little more frustration than before the day started, that was for sure. So far, the medical examiner could not find anything that would imply that either Craner or Lambert could have been in their full use of senses, or poisoned or the like. They had talked to Alfred Stryker in his studio at his house and he had given all the right answers, looking like a law abiding citizen who was very sad to learn that two of his partners had died. Not that Jim believed him at all, even if he didn't believe all the rumors behind Ace, Jim trusted his instincts, and even if Stryker was not guilty of the "accidents", he was no philanthropist, without a doubt.
He had even accepted a couple of police officers as protection detail: "Of course I would accept the kind offer of the GCPC, Detective, although I have reinforced my security inside and don't really fear for my life." he had said with a super annoying small smile, "As any citizen of Gotham, I more than trust our boys in blue to watch out for us." Jim had left with a bigger headache and mounting frustration, but there was nothing to be done. There had been nothing on Rogers through the day, and tomorrow he and Flass would start questioning people around the recently deceased to try and start making some connections.
Nevertheless, at least for the day, he was done, he hoped. "I'm home!" he shouted as he opened the front door to his home. "I'm in the kitchen, honey." the voice of his wife answered, bringing a smile to his face. Not sooner than he had put a couple of steps inside and started to take his coat to put in the rack in the entrance that a small red haired missile hit his legs. "Daddy! You're home. Did you catch a lot of bad guys? Did you chase them with your car? Was there…" He laughed out loud and picked up the 6 year old talking a mile a minute "Easy there, Babs. I can only answer one question at a time." This only caused the little red head to pout in an adorable way and huff out loud. "But I have some many questions, Daddy. And I was just reading today about how police departments get their money, and I never thought that…" Jim could only blink as his little girl started to go about city budgets and how if the mayor could change how to allocate money, they would have more for more officers, and he could only blink again thinking where his daughter had gotten her big brain because as much as he considered himself smart, this red bundle was without a doubt too smart for her own good. She probably got her from her mother's side.
"Hahaha" he laughed out loud again, making his daughter stop again in her rant as he messed her hair in the ponytail she had it in. "Easy there, smarty pants. Your old dad can't keep up with someone so smart. You have to explain things a little slower for people like me." This again caused the little girl to huff but a smile wasn't far behind. "But Daddy, you are a grownup, you have to be smarter than me, right?"
"I don't know about that, your daddy has been forgetting a lot of things recently, maybe his old age is catching up to him?" a voice came out the doorway to the dining room. Both parent and child turned to catch Sarah Essen Gordon, Jim's wife of almost 9 years, with a loving smile on her face.
"But Mom, Daddy is not that old. Maybe he needs to see the doctor? I read the other day that people could have issues with the memory…" and before the small girl could go on another tirade, Sarah put an end to it. "Perhaps we can take him to the doctor to see him, sweetheart," she came close to them and gave Jim a loving peck before focusing on the small redhead "but what better way to motivate his memory than eating dinner with lots of veggies, hm?" she said with a teasing smile.
"But MOM!" the whining was almost instantaneous, "Veggies are icky!" as she poked out her tongue. "Maybe" his wife responded by taking the 6 year old from her father's arms and setting her on the floor "But they are very good for you, as you have well read, no?"
"Hmm, well yes." Barbara answered with another small pout that clearly showed the conflict " But I don't like them."
"Yes, well. As we have discussed before, sometimes we have to do things we don't like to be healthy. Or do you want to be forgetful like your daddy? That's what happens if you don't eat your veggies."
"Your mom is right, you know." Jim said as he went on one knee to his daughter's eye level. "I will have to eat even more veggies if I want to be smart enough to answer your questions. So you have too. Otherwise, you will start forgetting what you read, and we can't have that, right?"
The blue eyes of his daughter seemed to take all of this, which had been a tug of war for a while in the house since she started grade school and some other kids said something about Veggies being icky. After a little while, she looked at her mother and said "Ugh, fine. Only because there are soooo many things I want to read and see."
"That's my girl." Sarah said. "Now come on, you two. James Jr. is already at the table waiting for us."
"Speaking of the kitchen, I finally catched who had been stealing your cookies from my desk…"
For the next few days, it seemed the case was going nowhere. Every person they interviewed seemed to either know nothing that could be of use, gave non committal answers due to contracts with Ace, or like Alfred Stryker, clearly were not telling everything, but had enough power or aliby to walk away unscatted without being truthful.
Jim was reviewing some of the answers the witnesses to Crane's meltdown had provided to see if anything seemed odd or something alongside Tim. "It just makes no sense. Apparently this type of thing happened often enough, but this one makes Crane go completely bonkers and crash in his car?" Jim asked the other detective at the table.
The case, to no one's surprise, ended up on the media soon enough, especially after Crane's much more public accident, and even on the face of little evidence connecting them, that hadn't stopped some more "speculative" news outlets like the Gotham Inquisitor from going full front page with theories and the like. Therefore, with the Mayor and D.A Dent pressuring for answers (for different reasons, obviously), Commissioner Loeb had assigned more officers to the case, making Jim the lead detective since he opened the case, "And to actually get some results for once." Jim thought with a wry smile. It was rare for Jim to get a case like this as the lead, mostly because Loeb showed his favoritism quite a lot, but also because Jim always pushed to actually get results and that tended to tick some high standing individuals. But this time, all the parties actually wanted to get answers, therefore, Jim had been put out either as a solution, or as a scapegoat if things went sideways.
"Nothing unusual came from the autopsy, right?" Tim said from beside him on the large table where they had settled as an "HQ" for the case. "Nothing, no drugs, alcohol, poisons, nothing. On either Lambert or Crane."
"Mmmm… whoever is behind this clearly knows what they're doing. They are supposed to look like different types of accidents. But the fact that they happened almost one after the other, and Rogers is still missing, clearly makes it look fishy. I wonder if maybe the result with Crane's went wrong and the idea was supposed to be more quiet."
Jim scrunched his face and turned to the other detective with interest: "What do you mean?"
Tim stopped looking through the papers and turned with a thoughtful look: "Well, think about it. Even if both of them ended up dead almost one day after the other, if the deaths had been like Lambert, in their house with no visible link, it's possible that we'd not gone too deeply on them. Just a couple of older guys dying close to one another. Even with the Ace connection might have been nothing more than an unusual coincidence." He turned some of the papers that he was reviewing over to Jim. "But with Crane's full meltdown in front of multiple witnesses and then a car crash. That made the public interested and made things look much different. I think whoever did this didn't account for that."
"Now that you say it like that, it starts to make more sense. You're thinking Rogers was trying to score more influence over Ace, but then things didn't go according to plan and he bailed?" Jim said after thinking about his friend's words for a moment.
"Maybe. Or maybe that one did follow the plan. Have you got anything on Stryker apart from his initial interview?"
Jim sighed. "Nothing. While some of his employees speak of him as someone demanding and even rude, most said that he had good relationships with both Lambert and Crane. And everything else they claim that they have signed NDA's and can't talk unless we actually charge Stryker with something."
"Which makes it difficult, since without what they could say, having anything to charge him with becomes a much more complicated task." Tim said with a frustrated laugh. "Which I assume is exactly as intended." He paused a little bit while reviewing another file and continued. "Has Lambert's son given you anything more?"
"Well, so far he seems to be truly cooperating. He said that he is having some of his legal team review every file on how the shares of the company are divided, or anything that could lead to more of a motive."
Tim gave a long "Hmm" and said afterwards. "Do you think you can trust him? He still could be involved."
"I'm not a hundred percent sure, but I'll take any information I can get, and verify it to be sure he may not be lying or only giving me what he could use in his favor."
All of the sudden, a clock in the room chimed to indicate the time. Jim looked at it and sighed again. "It is later than I expected. We should put a pause on this and resume tomorrow, otherwise we both will get couches for the night." he said while starting to put away some of the files.
"Right you are on that, my friend. Too right indeed."
But before they could get their coat, a young officer ran into the room slightly out of breath. "Detectives, one of the officers stationed at Alfred Stryker's house reported unusual noises and then a gunshot, he requested backup while they responded. They haven't reported back."
Jim immediately stood up and said: "How long?"
"Five minutes at most, Detective. We have been trying to get other officers close by, but I remembered you were still here."
Jim didn't wait for more as he was already putting his coat on and moving towards the lot for his car, Tim only slightly behind him. "Contact any patrol close to the area and tell them to head towards Stryker's house immediately. I'll be there shortly. " He turned towards his closest friend on the force and said with a small smile. "It seems to be a night for the couch for both of us, huh?"
"So it seems, but maybe if we hurry, it could only be this one."
Jim could only silently agree, and thought as the slightly cold air hit his face, that hopefully they wouldn't be too late to prevent anyone else from being hurt.
As he parked his car on the entrance to the rather large Stryker estate, Jim realized that the situation had escalated but he hoped that the presence of two more patrol cars and quite a few people in the entrance signaled that it had been handled.
Both Tim and himself rapidly left the vehicle and went towards the officers standing on the entrance, which was when Jim realized that there were more than a few people on the floor, probably injured and two officers were sitting on the floor with what looked like homemade ice packs on their heads.
"Officer… Montoya, right?" he said, recognizing the female officer, one of the recent additions to the department. "What's the situation?"
"Detective Gordon, sir. I didn't know you were on route. " she said once she recognized who was exiting the vehicle. "Sir, we received word from dispatch about the lost contact with officers Good and Schultz and headed immediately towards this location. By the time we arrived, around twenty minutes after the call from dispatch, we found their squad car alone and the front entrance opened, but there were no noises coming from inside, so me and my partner decided to go inside to investigate." She looked towards the other officer who was standing near some of the bodies on the floor, which Jim noticed, including a few that were tied together with a rope that definitely wasn't police issued. He stored that inquiry for a moment to continue hearing the report.
"Once inside, we found officers Good and Schultz in the entrance on the floor unconscious, with what we assume was a blunt force hit towards their head." she said, looking towards one of said officers.
Jim turned towards said officer: "Are you ok, Officer? Is that what happened?"
The officer turned his head towards him and responded: "Yes, sir. When we heard noises and what we presumed was a gunshot, we gave our call to central and went towards the building, we found an opening on the floor we didn't know existed and when we decided to investigate, we were attacked from behind. I don't remember much afterwards until I awoke when Officer Montoya was helping us." He raised his head a little and took the ice pack from his head. "From your first question. I can say apart from one hell of a headache, we both are fine."
"You should still get that checked out, just in case." Tim said from a few steps inside the reception.
"Medical services are on their way, sir. From last communication, 5 minutes tops." Officer Montoya said in response.
"Is there any injury to be worried about?" Jim asked, looking towards the bodies on the floor.
"None that we could tell was life threatening, sir. Although a few broken bones seemed assured."
"Very well, Montoya. Proceed with your report." Jim said, with Tim returning towards the entrance.
"I assume that whatever happened, happened in that secret basement, right?"
"Yes, Detective. After finding the officers, we proceeded to take them out towards the entrance and waited for backup, which arrived a couple of minutes later. Officers Foly and Powell arrived and we decided to leave Powell behind with the injured officers and continue towards the opening in the floor."
Montoya took a small breath and continued. "Inside we discovered a basement with clear signs of recent struggle, broken glasses, pieces of furniture and firearms discarded through the room, alongside around twenty unconscious individuals, some sort of glass chamber with a broken part, and Mr. Rogers and Mr. Stryker tied together on one side of the room."
Jim couldn't hide the surprise on his face even if he tried hearing Montoya's words, "Twenty? What kind of weapons? All of them tied?" He fired rapid questions.
"Yes, sir. Ranging from handguns to a couple of semi automatics. Officer Foly is right now guarding them."
"What about Stryker? And you said that Rogers is here too?" Tim asked from beside him.
"Yes…"
"Detective Tim Munroe, Officer. I'm from Major Crimes but I've been assigned as extra help towards this case." Tim said with a small smile towards the young Officer.
"Yes, Detective Munroe." she said with a small embarrassed smile, the first change in the professional attitude since they arrived. "Sorry, I'm still learning some of the names."
"Don't worry about it."
"As I was saying, Mr. Stryker and Mr. Rogers were tied towards one end of the room. With only Mr. Stryker conscious. They are currently guarded by Officer Powell in one of the side rooms of the entrance."
"Have they said anything, Montoya?" Jim said while starting to walk in the direction she pointed, followed by both her and Tim.
"Nothing sir. We tried to ask them questions but they haven't been very responsive."
Jim frowned at hearing this, "What do you mean?"
"It's better if you see, Sir." Montoya said while indicating a door on the left side of the reception.
Once entering, it showed a moderate sized room filled with cleaning supplies and the like, probably a service room for the people working in the large state. Once Jim entered and saw the officer standing next to two sitting persons, he understood what Montoya meant with "not very responsive". Rogers and Stryker were sitting on the floor, still tied together with Rogers clearly having recovered in the time since Montoya found them. But their expressions could only be described as "vacant" or "lost" because while their eyes were open, they clearly were not seeing anything, with Stryker even rocking a little on the floor.
"You didn't untie them?" he asked while walking towards them.
Montoya only narrowed her eyes towards the men on the floor. "We tried, Sir."
At this, Tim responded with a surprised hum, "Tried?"
By this time they were next to said men when Montoya responded, "Yes, Sir. Tried. But we couldn't undo or cut the rope, if it even is a rope. Never seen anything like it."
Now that he was close to it, Jim realized that what he considered an unusual rope was more of a steel thin cable or something like it, and by what Montoya said, resistant enough to not be cut by the approved cutters or knives that officers could carry. The questions about what happened kept increasing.
Gordon focused his attention on the men placed on the floor and realized that he could now hear that Stryker seemed to be mumbling something too low for him to understand. Tim kneeled to be closer to their eye level while he looked back at Montoya and said: "Have they been like this since you found them?"
Montoya looked towards the men tied, "Yes, Detective. At first Mr. Rogers was not conscious but he seemed to recover quickly. But both of them have been like that even while we helped them move here."
Tim asked while looking towards the faces of both men, "Could you see any injury, Officer Montoya, when they were moved up here?". He turned his head and placed his ear closer to Stryker. It seemed he had too heard Stryker's mumblings.
This time it was Officer Powell that answered: "Nothing clear apart from the bruises, Detective. It seems to be mostly shock from whatever happened."
Tim closed his eyes while trying to put his ear as close as possible to Stryker's face: "He is saying something, and I think it's just the same words over and over."
Jim was surprised that he could distinguish anything: "You can understand his mumbling?"
"Not really, I just can make enough to see that they are different words, at least I think so." he said while scratching his beard. He turned his head back to look towards Stryker's vacant eyes. "Mr. Stryker, I'm Detective Tim Munroe from the GCPD, alongside Detective Gordon. We asked you a few questions a couple of days ago. Can you hear me?"
Officer Powell seemed to want to say something, probably in the type of: "We've tried that" but to both everyone's surprise in the room, at the word Detective Gordon, something seemed to click in Stryker's eyes because they gained some focus towards Tim and seemed to mumble louder: "Gordon?, Gordon?"
Jim's surprise passed quickly while he squatted towards Stryker's eye level and said: "Yes, Mr. Stryker. It's Gordon, remember? I was the detective here a couple of days ago. You were showing me your painting collection, yeah?". Maybe trying to make him remember details could help to bring focus to his mind.
And it seemed Jim's words were having an effect. Stryker now focused towards Jim's face and seemed to be even clearer. "Yes, Yes. Gordon, Police. Safe. Gordon. Monster. Wings. Smoke. Gas." he seemed to be repeating the words he was mumbling before. He continued blinking his eyes like he was waking from a dream.
Finally after a moment, it seemed he finally was looking at them. "Gordon? You're here? When? ¡MY GOD!" his words started to increase in volume and adquire a despaired tone. "I CONFESS, GORDON! I CONFESS, IT WAS ME! PLEASE; I'LL TELL YOU EVERYTHING! JUST DON'T LET IT GET ME! PLEASE!"
Whatever both detectives expected, it wasn't certainly that. "Calm down, Stryker. What are you saying? Take a breath and tell us what happened. You're safe. It is only us here." Tim said from his place besides Gordon.
Stryker turned towards the other Detective, and he took some quick breaths, each one slightly longer than before. He looked around the room while trying to wiggle out of his bindings. "Yes. I will tell you all. Just please, keep me safe from that monster. I'm begging you."
"Monster? What Monster? What happened, Mr. Stryker?" Tim said as a response.
"It was me." Stryker said almost in a trance again, not really looking at either detective. "I was the one behind the assassinations. Of the whole thing."
"What are you-"
"Quiet, Powell. Let's just hear him first." Gordon said to the officer who was trying to interrupt.
Stryker had not noticed it seemed, "My assistant suggested it, you see. I had been raging about Lambert and Steve and he said that he could help me, that with the contract we signed when we started Ace, that I could have the whole thing. He said that he could make it look like accidents, that no one will be able to tell. Then I talked to Paul, and he said that he wanted in. Then Kayla put me in contact with some guys, and said that they could use a poison or something that was invisible, and that nobody would be able to tell."
Jim was filing names and events in his head while Tim was writing everything he could in his small notebook. Their eyes crossed while listening, the clues tying with what they knew and suspected.
"Everything seemed to be going good, right? Lambert died, and everybody was sayin' what a tragedy it was right? Bastard got what he deserved." at this his eyes narrowed. "But then Crane had this crazy ass rant at the plant, and he crashed, and everything became a circus. Now everybody was talking about murder plots and everything."
"What happened tonight?"
At the question, Stryker seemed to tremble, with his eyes widening and his posture even while tied becoming much more tense. Sweat started to appear on his forehead. "We've been trying to find Paul, because I wanted to ensure that he said nothing. Had been trying for days, and trying to keep the story at control while we made the contract valid. He shows up out of nowhere tonight, saying that he can't keep going on. That he is going to the cops. I panicked, and told my boys to seize him. I wanted to reason with him, but Kayla said that he was a loose end, and that with him out of the way, I could seize Ace for myself."
He seemed to lose track a little after that, and then he blinked a couple of times and continued: "I was panicking the whole way through, so I said yes. We moved towards the basement and were going to do it, before we heard a crash upstairs. It was all so fast. Before we could even begin to think what it was, there were shots and then one of my guys came crashing through the opening towards the base floor."
At this moment, it seemed that the terror of the situation started to get to him again, because his wyes widened, and he started to sweat heavily, but he nevertheless continued: "I-I don't even know what the hell it was, but before my guys even started to turn and fire there was this bang, and then nothing but smoke. I panicked even more, trying to find Kayla or anyone but there were just gunshots and grunts and some sort of shadow moving around. I just started hearing the screams and panic of my guys and I started to go towards the end of the basement, to hide or something, when all of the sudden Paul started to move and tried to escape. I didn't think too much at that point, I just knew that I couldn't let him leave the house so I threw myself onto him and started hitting him. I don't know how long we tussled but all of the sudden someone just grabbed me and threw me across the room. And then I Iooked around and saw all my guys over the floor and through the smoke I finally saw it." It seemed that the memory brought back the shock because he started to tremble and his eyes started to move erratically.
"Saw what?" Jim said getting closer to his face to try and have him focused.
It seemed to work, at least enough, because after a long breath Stryker continued: "A m-mon-monster, it couldn't have been anything less than that. All black with horns on his head, and these white eyes that seemed to…. seemed to shine in the dark."
"He started to move towards me, it seemed to be gliding in the smoke and just came close and his voice… oh his voice was like the devil's. I thought he was going to kill me, but he just asked about the poison, and who gave me the poison."
He took another long breath and continued: "I couldn't understand the question, I mean, I thought he was after my soul or was going to eat me, but then he spoke again, and said that he knew about the contract that I made with Paul, Ted and Steve, and he said he knew about the clause that would allow me to get full control over ACE. I was terrified, it was like he saw into my mind or something. I told him that it was Kayla, that she introduced me to the guys that had helped me and I started to look around for her but she was gone."
"It was almost like the darkness of the room followed it. He just tied me and Paul together and said that I didn't want him to come back, so I better tell the police what I did. I was just so terrified… I don't remember much after that." he finished his story, all the while starting to breathe heavier and sweating more.
"Stay with me, Stryker, you're safe." Jim said, putting his hands on his shoulders.
Stryker seemed too terrified this time, but still managed to say : "Please, Gordon. Send me to jail if you have to, but don't let that thing come after me, PLEASE!" his volume started to increase "I DON'T WANT TO DIE, PLEASE, DON'T LET IT GET TO ME!"
Tim sighed while the officers and Jim tried to calm Stryker: "Don't think you are getting more than that out of him, Jim."
Jim stood up and sighed: "You're probably right. Officer Montoya, check if the paramedics are here so that they can check him and Rogers."
"Right away, Detective."
A few hours later, deep into the night. Gordon was still in the Stryker state trying to fully understand what had been the ending to the ACE Chemicals case. He and Tim had started exchanging notes, and interviewed some of the now conscious men that had been attacked by this "monster". By this point, the state was flooded with police, and CSI's, and on the outside of the state beyond the police line, the press.
"So, quite the ending to this shit, huh?" a new voice, which was revealed to be Flass, interrupted the detectives.
"You can say that again, Flass." responded Tim, without turning to him, continuing to check all his notes. "Not every day you get a double homicide, an attempted homicide, and a "monster attack" all in the same case." he said with a little levity on the last part.
Jim took a puff of the cigarette he had and said: "Whatever this "monster" is, clearly he is trained, and has some toys that even the feds don't. Just look at this" he said while pointing at the "devices" that had been found in the basement. "I think this are where the smoke that Stryker recalled came from, but for the life of me, never seen any smoke bomb like this one before."
"Wait, so all that "monster" nonsense that the beats were talking about is true?" Flass said with some surprise in his expression.
"Apparently, although what this "monster" is, is open to interpretation." Tim said while looking from his notes for the first time in a while. "What do you think Jim, maybe some kind of hit job?"
"No, I don't think so." replied Jim after a pause. "Clearly, this "monster" is too well trained and funded to be any of the locals, and the fact that he was asking after the method of the killing, but he clearly already knew that Stryker was guilty. I just don't understand this stuff about the contract Stryker mentioned, it seemed to be that with Lambert and Crane's dead, he and Rogers will take control of ACE, but Lambert and Crane both had family. It doesn't make much sense."
Flass seemed to perk at this comment. "Ah, to that I have an answer, Jimbo. Just as I was on route, Lambert's son called me and said that he had found something with his legal bozos. Apparently in some of the old documents they found, there was a clause that allowed any of the major kahunas in the case of any of the shareholder's death without an adult or legal heir to buy the shares from the family at a very low price. And since Crane's eldest is still underage and Lambert's son is not listed as a legal heir because of his issues with daddy, well, you can do the math."
Jim looked towards his friend and his eyes seemed to show that he was thinking the same. "Well that explains the motive, now we just need to find this "Kayla" that Stryker talked about and learn about this poison."
Flass took out his flask and took a long gulp from it. "Ah, don't worry that boyscout head of your, Jimmy. We'll get to the bottom of it. And besides…" he said with a grin "enjoy the victory, this will be a good one, I know it."
JIm only sighed again: "Well, whatever else, at least we managed to get most of them." he thought with another puff of his cigarette. "Maybe this is a good sign." He could only hope that this "monster" was a one off.
October 31, 2007
"Crime at the Chemical Syndicate"
by: Alexander Knox
In a shocking twist to the saga at ACE Chemicals, Paul Rogers and Alfred Stryker have been arrested and charged for the murders of Alfred Crane and Theodore Lambert. According to the police, both have confessed to conspiring to commit the murders, while Mr. Stryker has been charged additionally with attemped murder of Mr. Rogers.
According to an investigation by the Gazette, we can confirm that all four men, who started ACE chemicals in March of 1985, had a confidential contract that allowed any of the major shareholders in the case of an untimely death of one of them, to buy shares from the family at a reduced price in case of no adult or legal heir was assigned.
It seems that Mr. Stryker, who has been linked in the past with shady and ruthless practices in his role of CEO of the company, decided to approach Mr. Rogers and propose the murder of the ohter shareholders to adquire from their families, one that has no adult heirs in the case of Mr. Crane, and one without any legal heirs after the well documented dispute between Mr. Lambert and his eldest son, Theodore Lambert.
Detective James Gordon, who is the leading detective in the case, didn't gave any comment to the Gazette, citing that the investigation is still active, but sources within GCPD tell us that last night there was an attack at Mr. Strykers state, alerting the Officers that had been put to guard Mr. Stryker after the death of his partners. It seems that there was another party involved in the scuffle buy we haven't been able to confirm this.
Additionally, GCPD has put an arrest warrant on a Miss Kayla Masters, assistant to Mr. Stryker.
The Gazette will continue our coverage on this story and give you more information as soon as possible.
This story is updating.
"The Bat-Man"
by: Judith Skeeter
My dear readers, I bring to you once again the hottest of the hot here in Gotham. Following our coverage the past couple of months of sightings of a "dark creature" that trashes criminals first at the Narrows clinic owned by Dr. Leslie Thompikns, and then the story of the rescue of a couple of escorts down in The Bowery. According to the victims, four men accosted them during the night, an unfortunate but normal occurrence in their profession here in dear old Gotham, but unlike most times, this time all of a sudden one of the attackers was tackled by a dark shadow, forcing the other men to react. Both women tell us that they only saw something dark with "pointy ears" and screams before the four assailants were bound and unconscious with them no worse for wear.
So what is this mysterious "Dark Creature"? Some kind of monster?, a new grizzly horror from the Depths of Gotham like the legends of the so called Court of Owls? Or something more?
Well, my dear faithful readers, as always here is Judith with a new exclusive to bring a little light into this mystery, because my sources in the GCPD tell me that the murders within the ACE Chemical board were not solved and arrested because of the brave and honorable work of our police force, nor our newly promoted hero Liuetenant James Gordon, but because once more, this "Dark Creature" appeared once more, not only defeating all twenty of Alfred Stryker's goons, but leaving them tied for our brave officers just to take them in.
Even more, my sources tell me that the arrested men tell about how the creature had "pointed ears" and that it "flew in" or that it had "claws that teared through them".
So there you have it, dear readers, it seems this "Dark Creature" that we at the Inquisitor are calling "The Bat-man" is doing more to catch and defeat the long rampant criminal element here in Gotham than our brave heroes at the GCPD. What is it? Is it more man or creature? Is this dark tremor the one that may ignite the light of hope for the citizens of Gotham?
I promise to keep you posted in any new scoops I get as always.
AN: So… it only took me what? 6 years to get to Chapter 3?... I can only blame both my work and my own tendency to try and do too much with my time. Nevertheless, here I come. This time I have a lot more motivation and drive to actually get on with this story. I'm almost finished with Chapter 4 so I hope to at least keep it going.
Cheers to anyone wanting to give this story a chance, I really appreciate it.
Next time: Chapter 4: The Dark Knight Begins Part III: Year One
