"So, basically, you're a mob boss," Peter said as he rubbed his chin.
"Well, sure, I suppose," Red Hood said with a shrug.
"You suppose?" Peter said dubiously.
"Yeah, you don't have to get so uptight about it," Hood said and turned away from Peter in annoyance. "It's a means not my identity."
"Said the mob boss through tight lips," Peter said with a bit of amusement laced in his words. "I'm not judging. Just ...a bit confused? I mean, you wear that bat emblem on your chest. And yet, you're part of the group that the bat fights? How does that work?"
The Red Hood turned to assess him with a hard look. Then he leaned against an AC unit and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Catching crooks and sending them to jail doesn't stop the drug trade or prostitution. In a city this big and corrupt it's stupid to think that any interference by vigilantes will eradicate crime altogether. Sure, crime is down and there might be quiet nights but it never goes away completely. What I do, I do it to further protect anyone who has to resort to living a life of crime just to get some food on the table. Not all of us are born with silver spoons in our mouths or even a bronze one and life has a way to push those who are down even further. I would know," Red Hood said and pointed to an area of Gotham where poverty and crime were higher.
"I grew up there. Dad was locked up. Mom became a junkie. It was up to me, a ten-year-old kid, to pay the rent and make sure my mom didn't die. I was half successful for a few years. Then I had to do what I could to avoid CPS, the dirty cops, the good cops, and provide for myself. The only person I failed to avoid was Batman." Hood chuffed out a laugh. "I have a better perspective of what it takes to survive in this city than the others and I know what I can do to help.
"So, yes, I'm a mob boss to protect the kids and their moms that no one else bothers to take a second look at. None of my dealers are allowed to sell to kids. None of my dealers are kids. In my territory there are no pimps, all the girls work for themselves and have the added protection of the Red Hood from sadistic Johns and corrupt cops. Knowing my rules, Mila came to me when she inherited her ex-husband's territory and convinced me, without much effort, to control the less savory elements that she didn't want to delve into. She did this because she was smart enough to know that she couldn't leave it in the hands of insatiable assholes that have no idea what a moral compass is. My arrangement was between the two of us, her business partner, attorney, and her right-hand man, who I believe is now dead.
"Truthfully, I don't care if you approve or not. The Commissioner and Batman are aware of my activities and they don't interfere so long as I don't kill the assholes who don't follow my rules. Instead, I scare them straight and wrap them up for Batman to turn in with plenty of evidence to make sure they stay locked up."
Peter listened carefully and even though he knew that he would never do what the Red Hood did, he knew that what he was doing was better than any mob boss he'd ever come across. He was also right about not being able to get rid of crime completely. Gotham wasn't his city. He was just, hopefully, passing through so he wasn't going to worry about what the Red Hood did or didn't do. All he cared about at the moment was helping to stop whoever was killing the men that used to work for Mila and clear her as a suspect.
"You basically told me the same thing Rios told me about Mila. So if you run those businesses for her, is it a stretch to believe that she wouldn't be killing off whoever turned their backs to her?"
"Nope," Hood said and shook his head. "Doesn't mean she wouldn't though."
"Why do you say that?"
"For one, she is running other criminal enterprises. Things that could not only ruin her life but her son's if her secrets got out. If anyone that was close to her starts talking, not only does she stand to lose everything she has but their lives as well."
"Like what?"
The Red Hood laughed. "Her partner owns a real estate company that she uses to launder money for an underground gambling ring. I'm talking about illegal fighting, not just high-stakes poker. That and fixing certain events, even their own fights.
"Mila is not only an art dealer, she owns auction houses internationally. If you think there isn't any crime in art, you'd be mistaken. Paintings aren't the only things that can be forged. Money, bonds, deeds, even corporate documents. She's well known in certain circles for her expertise in identity theft."
Peter's blood ran cold. He thought it had been too easy for her to set up his identity as her nephew. Am I an identity thief? Did it even count if the person whose identity I'm using is dead? Yes, yes it does! I'm a criminal! A thief! If Felicia could see me now. She'd never let me live this down.
"WITSEC has nothing on Mila," Hood said. "What she knows…" he whistled. "It's enough to get her killed ten times over. And if the people who were working for her start talking..."
Peter dropped his ass to the roof feeling completely done. He trusted her. If he had known...no. He probably wouldn't have done anything differently. It didn't matter that she was a criminal, she didn't deserve to die. Neither did Aiden. But he had to separate his civilian life from her. He could continue to watch over her as Spider-man. But Peter couldn't be her nephew. No matter how much he missed May, he should have never tried to replace her, not even temporarily.
"Why do you look like I killed your puppy?"
"I thought she was...I don't know," Peter said and shrugged. He rubbed his head in frustration. "I wanted to help clear her as a suspect. Never even thought she could be involved. I had no idea she was a-a…"
"Criminal?" Hood said and eyed the Spider carefully. "How do you know her?"
"I don't. Obviously," Peter said and looked up at the Red Hood. "She helped me out once and I just assumed she was...good?"
"Are you a black and white person?" Hood asked but before the Spider could answer he spoke again. "Hate to break it to you, but no one is completely good or completely bad unless you're Jesus or Satan. Everyone is either on one side of the greyscale spectrum or the other and where you land varies throughout your life."
"Yeah, I know that up here," Peter pointed to his head. "But it doesn't mean I can't think people have standards."
"But they're never the same as our own," Red Hood told him holding his gaze. "So when you learn that they're capable of doing things you consider terrible it breaks your heart."
"That sounds about right," Peter said and shrugged. "Look, I can see your point, alright? That it isn't fair to hold people to certain standards." Peter stood up and wiped the dust off his ass. "Alright, so I need to either prove she's innocent or guilty. I'm up for the challenge."
"Where would you start?"
"I have no idea," Peter said and sighed. "If I played a detective on TV what would I do? No! An investigative journalist. Hmm, the autopsy." He snapped his fingers. "And police files."
"No more interrogations?"
"Nah," Peter said and walked to the edge of the building ready to shoot a web.
"Do you even know where the morgue is? Or which precinct has the files?"
Peter's shoulders sagged. He shook his head.
The Red Hood chuckled. "Come with me, greenhorn, I'll let you play with the toys in my safe house."
"I hope that was a non-sexual innuendo," Peter said with a tilt of his head.
"Everything I say is non-sexual," Red Hood replied in a monotone. Then he wrapped an arm around Peter's waist before he released his grappling hook. "Grab on!"
"Hey, I have my own webbing!" Peter said in annoyance. He was so tired of being manhandled.
"For what? Sex play?" Red Hood said with an amused undertone.
"That was definitely not non-sexual!"
"Tsk, tsk. Double negatives are a grammatical no-no."
"Ugh! I'm done with this conversation."
Red Hood started to laugh then he landed on the next roof. He allowed the Spider to follow him using his webbing while he continued to use his grapple. He had to hand it to the guy, he was good at swinging on those things.
As soon as they reached the safe house, Red Hood pulled up an extra chair next to his and started to search through the police database. His computer monitor wasn't as big as the one in the Batcave but it served its purpose.
The more Peter learned through the research they had undergone in Red Hood's safehouse, the further from finding out who the culprit was. Whoever was killing Mila's former associates was covering his tracks with the precision of someone who knew what investigators would do to try to find clues to solve the crime.
"You know, Rios said something interesting to me when I talked to him," Peter said while hanging upside down from the ceiling. Red Hood turned to look at him. "But then again, he also said he wasn't involved with Mila's criminal activities and you said he was one of the people that made the agreement with you to take over the drug trade and prostitution in Mila's territory."
"I never said Rios was involved," Red Hood told him. "I said her attorney was. Rios isn't Mila's attorney. She only hires him when she's trying to stay above board. Rios is on the straight and narrow or tries very hard to be. I mean, as much as an attorney can anyway. So what was it that he told you."
"Well, he said that he believed that the people behind the murders were cops that were upset that they lost their take on whatever these men were getting paid while working for Mila," Peter said. "Do you think he's right?"
Red Hood didn't answer, instead, he combed through the police files one more time and noticed something he'd overlooked before. The same patrolmen found every single one of the murder victims. Then the investigation was passed to the same detectives each time.
"Son of a bitch," Red Hood said in frustration. It just had to be Mulcahey and her partner. Mulcahey was already on thin ice with the department since evidence seemed to be misplaced or gone missing altogether when her boyfriend and also CSI was a part of any case. And if Mulcahey was the lead investigator, he was her go-to CSI. He'd gone as far as tipping reporters on cases when the GCPD didn't want to create panic. Problem was that there was no evidence of his involvement, only a hunch by his superiors and the other officers in the precinct. Hood had no idea how the man was still on the payroll. Too many assholes had gotten off without so much as a slap thanks to Corrigan's involvement. But he wasn't known to commit the crimes. Hood was almost certain that Corrigan was on the take and had ways of getting more information than the others. The easiest way to figure out if the cops were involved was to get the information out of Corrigan. "Let's go."
"Where are we going?"
"I'm going to teach you how to successfully interrogate people," Red Hood said and took the tarp off a motorcycle.
"Hey, are we going to do the whole good cop bad cop routine? I've always wanted to do that!" Peter said getting excited.
"No," Red Hood said and pointed at Spider-man. "You'll stand back and learn while I do all the talking."
"Well, that's no fun," Peter said with a huff.
"It's not about fun," Red Hood said and turned on the bike. "Are you coming or what?"
"I'm right behind you," Peter said as he crawled across the wall and made his way out while Hood drove out. The door to his safehouse closed automatically. As Red Hood sped down Gotham, Peter swung from above using his webs. For the first time since he'd run into the Red Hood, he finally felt like himself. And he was having fun.
"He floats through the air with the greatest of ease -
That daring young man in his webbed up jam-ees!
He flies through the air with the greatest of ease -
The daring young man on the flying webbings," Peter sang happily.