Selina Kyle prowled the streets of Gotham like she owned the city. She spent her days either pickpocketing innocent civilians or constantly looking for a place to sleep. This night started off like any other. Selina walked through Gotham's theater district looking for her next target. She spotted a man and his wife dressed to the nines, as she casually bumped into them.
"Watch where you are going, young lady." The man' wife berated Selina about everything from her appearance to her state of filth. Selina profusely apologized, while cursing out the man and his wife under her breath. As the couple walked away, Selina chuckled to herself, wondering how it would take the man to realize she had lifted his wallet from his coat pocket. She rounded a corner and hurried into a shop where she greeted the owner.
"Hey, Ernie." Selina casually walked through the store to the back refrigerators and grabbed a carton of milk, bringing it to the counter.
"Selina, we talked about this. You can't just go stealin' other people's dough." The owner was a round, middle aged man, close to balding.
"I know, Ernie. I just can't help it sometimes. You know that." In her mind, Selina had felt guilty about stealing the money, but she figured that by the way the couple acted to her, they deserved it.
"Just don't let me catch you doing it again, you hear me?" Selina nodded as Ernie rang up the milk. They said their goodbyes and Selina exited into the alleyway next to the store. She called out to a cat that had roamed into the alley, while uncapping the milk and pouring into a leftover cake tin she found in a nearby trash can. Selina began to hear voices entering the alley. They belonged to a wealthy looking couple and who she assumed was a son around her age.
As they exited the theater into the alleyway, Thomas and Martha Wayne strolled into the dark night with their son Bruce. They had just come out of a movie screening and were arguing over its quality.
"Come on, Thomas, it wasn't that bad."
"Martha, I think germs could direct a better picture."
"Oh, really? Well, Bruce, what did you think of it?" Their son had thought about his answer carefully for a few seconds before speaking.
"I'm sorry, Mom, I think I agree with Dad."
As they continued walking down the alley, a dark figure approached them. Although he was unarmed, he seemed quite dangerous. To try and avoid any conflict, they started to head in the opposite direction before the figure spoke.
"Thomas Wayne." The voice was gruff, yet young, but also distinctly male. The mention of his name made Thomas turn around to face the figure, while Martha protested against it.
"What do you want?"
"Your debt must be paid."
"How much do you want? I can give you 150, but that's all." Thomas, still trying to avoid conflict, responded calmly, but the man didn't move at the mention of money.
"That's not the kind of payment they need." Before Thomas could question the man about what they meant by 'they', the man had stabbed him in the heart. Martha screamed at the sight of this and caused the man to turn his attention to her. As Martha and Bruce tried to run, the man grabbed Martha's pearl necklace from behind and began to choke her.
"Run Bruce!" Martha had managed to squeeze out the sentence with her last breath before the necklace snapped, slipping the pearls over the concrete below. The man then drew their attention to Bruce, who began to cower in fear as he approached him.
"Let this be a lesson to not get in the way of the court." As the man began to leave the alley, the stopped for a brief second and looked directly at Selina, pressing his finger to where his lips would be, and vanished without a the man left, Selina watched in horror as their son helplessly tried to awaken their lifeless bodies. She knew it was time to go when hear the sound of police sirens approaching.
Tensions in the GCPD were at an alltime high as two cops had brought in a man who was rambling on about he needed his pills, while the cops just stared at him like he was speaking gibberish. As they approached the cell within the station, the man had stolen the officer's gun and held the officer hostage. The sight of this had sent all the surrounding cops into a firing squad position, ready to shoot at the first sign of sudden movement. As the first officer was about to pull the trigger, a voice had rung up above the crowd.
"Everyone, hold your fire!" The officers looked up to the balcony above them to see Jim Gordon ready to diffuse the situation. "I got this."
As Gordon strode down the staircase into the lobby of the station, his partner, Harvey Bullock, looked up from his copy of The Gotham Gazette to find his partner approaching the man with caution.
" Take it easy, I'm here to help. My name's Jim, what's your's?" Gordon had hoped this tactic would work as he only tried it a few times before with little success.
"I need my pills." The man looked as if he was ready to explode right there. Gordon looked down at a bottle of aspirin on a nearby desk, hoping it would fool the man enough to calm him down. Gordon had never liked taking things to the extreme, unlike most officers, but resorted to desperate measures when he had to. He continued talking to the man as calmly as he could while handing over the bottle of fake pills. The rest of the station still held their position as they watched the man take one of the aspirins and popped it into his mouth.
"These aren't my pills." But before the man had time to react, Gordon had disarmed him and left him to the surrounding officers. As soon as Gordon had walked away from the scene, the officers had started to beat the man senselessly, but when Gordon tried to intervene, he was met with resistance. Upon seeing this, Bullock pulled him aside.
"What the hell are you doing?" Bullock had known Jim for about 2 years at this point and was still impressed, yet disappointed by his optimism.
What does it look like I'm doing? I'm trying to keep everyone from shooting each other until daylight." Before Gordon and Bullock could argue any more, a police dispatcher calls over to them.
"Gordon, Bullock! We got a double homicide, theater district."
"Come on, Frank, the shift's almost over." Bullock was looking forward to going home, cracking a beer, and watching TV, only to find those dreams dashed away by one last damn call.
"Yeah, almost. Get going, you two." And with this, Gordon and Bullock made their way out.
The scene they arrived at was not as grizzly as they assumed it would have been. Gordon looked around to find a young boy shaking on a set of stairs nearby. As Gordon began to approach the boy, he was stopped by another officer at the scene.
"What are you doin', Gordon?"
"I'm going to talk to the kid, hopefully get some leads."
"Do you know who that kid is?" Gordon had looked at the officer like he had asked whether or not the sky was blue.
"Of course I do, it's Bruce Wayne." As Gordon moved closer, he was once again stopped.
"Exactly. Which means no talking to him with permission."
"Tannebaum, I don't have all night, so move out of my way and go eat a donut." As Gordon stepped aside and walked towards Bruce Wayne, Tannebaum looked back at Bullock.
"Just because he became a lieutenant doesn't mean he can boss us around." Tannebaum vented his frustrations to Bullock, who clearly was not happy to be at the crime. As he looked down at the bodies of the Waynes, Bullock noticed something close to Thomas Wayne's hand. As he picked it up, he saw it was a handkerchief with the initials M.I. on it. Bullock was just about to call Gordon over to look at it, before he saw Gordon consoling Bruce about the death of his parents. 'Poor kid.' Bullock thought, before pocketing the handkerchief.
"Bruce?" Gordon had approached the Wayne child with caution, as he didn't know what mental state the kid was in right now. As Bruce looked up from the blanket the police had wrapped around him, he felt as if seeing Gordon in front of him was a light in the darkness that was that night. "Bruce, I'm not here to hurt you, I just want to talk."
"He killed them." Bruce managed to speak through the sobs as he was still recovering from the thought of his parents being dead. "He came out of nowhere and killed them."
"Bruce, I need you to tell me who he was."
"I didn't see his face. He was wearing a weird mask and all black clothing." Despite being calm enough to speak, Bruce was still shaking violently, whether it was rage or the cold, Gordon couldn't tell.
"What kind of mask?" Gordon was trying to paint a picture of the events that unfolded, and figuring out why somebody would kill the Waynes in cold blood.
"It was some kind of animal mask, but I couldn't make it out." As Bruce kept trying to recall details, his mind just kept sinking further into sadness, making Bruce start to cry heavily once again. As Gordon was about to wrap his arm around Bruce and give him the usual 'Everything will be alright' speech, a familiar figure arrived at the crime scene.
"Master Wayne, are you alright?" The man was in his mid-50's, but well built for his age, and spoke with a common, yet distinguished cockney accent. Bruce ran to the man and hugged him tight. "I assume you must be this James Gordon I've been hearing so much about on the news."
"That would be me, sir. And you must be Mr. Alfred Pennyworth." As Gordon shook the man's hand, he noticed a look of surprised confusion on the man's face. "Is there something wrong, sir?"
"How is it that you know my name?"
"Well, when someone is connected to the Waynes, you do tend to hear about them, if only in passing." Gordon began to notice Bullock calling him over to the bodies and excused himself from the conversation. This had meant one thing to Gordon, and it was that Bullock had found something good.
"What do you got, Harv?" Bullock, without saying a word, pulled out the handkerchief he picked up earlier and showed it to Gordon.
"See those initials there?" Bullock had pointed to the letters M.I. in the bottom right corner of the handkerchief. "I think those initials may be a clue to who killed the Waynes."
"But who do these initials belong to, Harvey?" Bullock paused for a second, realizing he had not that far ahead in his theory. Just before he was about to speak up again, Gordon cut him off. "What if this is just the mother's maiden name?" Just as Gordon said that, an idea popped into Bullock's head.
"Or maybe, a family friend." Bullock waited for Gordon to briefly catch up with his train of thought. When they caught up with each other's line of thinking, they knew they came to a conclusion.
"Marvin Isley." They said in unison. With the next clue figured out, they began to make their way to the Isley estate.
As Gordon and Bullock pulled up in front of the Isley residence, they got out of the car and headed to the front. The house was massive in comparison to most of the other houses in Gotham, but nowhere as big as Wayne Manor, which resided just outside of the city's boundaries. Gordon knocked on the ornate front door, and waited for a good minute before hearing a voice coming from the other side.
"Please don't knock on the door, we just had it painted." Gordon then looked down at his knuckles to find traces of white paint sprayed across the tops. He heard Bullock chuckle before the door swung open to reveal a man, dressed in pajamas and a bathrobe, looking like he was about to head to bed.
"Oh, Officer Gordon, what can I do for you?" Gordon had met Marvin Isley only once before at a charity banquet held by Wayne Enterprises. Gordon and Bullock made their way into the house while Isley greeted them cordially.
"Well, Officer Bullock here believes you may be connected to the murder of Thomas and Martha Wayne."
"The Waynes are dead?" The trio of men looked for the source of the voice, to find a 12-year old girl at the top of the stairwell.
"Pamela, what are you doing out of bed? Go back to sleep." Instead, Pamela wandered further down the stairs until she was right to her father. As Marvin reluctantly let her stay downstairs, he turned his attention back to the two officers in his foyer. "Why does he think I'm connected to the case?"
"Because we found this near the body of Thomas Wayne." Bullock held out the handkerchief and let Isley grabb and examine it himself.
"What was my handkerchief doing with Thomas Wayne?"
"We were hoping you could have told us that"
"Look, the last time I saw Thomas alive was two nights ago at the White Masquerade. I saw someone, I didn't see who, give something to Thomas. Ok?" Isley seemed frustrated by something as he gripped the handkerchief tight, although Gordon nor Bullock could figure out what.
"Wait, the White Masquerade? Sionis' club?" Bullock was obviously familiar with the location.
"Yes. Although I haven't been there in over two months." Isley grunted through gritted teeth.
"Mr. Isley, is there something you're not telling us?" Gordon had started to notice this shift in Isley's demeanor after the mention of Thomas Wayne, but his train of thought was interrupted by Isley, trying hard to usher out of his home.
"Oh, god, look at the time. Bye now, hope to see you two again soon. " Isley tried to rush Gordon and Bullock out the door before Gordon had stopped at the door frame.
"Why do you want us out so early?"
"My family and I are very tired and would like to go to bed, isn't that right Pamela?" The young girl softly shook her head, but was cut off by the father. "So, as you can, we will be off to bed."
"Can you at least tell us why Thomas Wayne had your handkerchief?" Bullock cried out from the squad car.
"Ask Sionis." Isley yelled back angrily.
"Where would we find him at this time of night?"
"Where do you think?" And with that, Isley slammed his front door closed.
Inside the car, Gordon and Bullock were deciding on whether or not to call it a night and continue the investigation tomorrow. Bullock almost called into the station to say this, but Gordon stopped him at the last moment.
"What the hell, Jim?" Bullock cussed Gordon out for stopping the call and pleaded with him to call it a night. Gordon, however, was going to let this case get away so easily. Bullock loudly protested going to the White Masquerade, until Gordon mentioned they could get a drink. Bullock put the car into gear and they wear off to their next clue.
The atmosphere in the club was electric as music poured out of the dance floor's high end speakers. The music was so loud that it was enough to drown out the sound of the front door of the club opening to reveal Gordon and Bullock walking onto the dance. As they approached the bar, hoping to wait for Richard Sionis to come and meet them, the sound of a voice came from an overhead catwalk.
"Jim Gordon and Harvey Bullock!" Sionis was well dressed in a casual party-going outfit, and walked confidently down the stairs of the catwalk down to the dancefloor below. As he approached the bar himself, he greeted the two officers. "Long time, no see. How have you two been? Can I get you a drink?"
"Whiskey, straight." Bullock replied.
"And for you, Officer Gordon?"
"Sweet Vermouth on the rocks, with a twist."
"Ah, The Groundhog." As Sionis ushered the bartender out of the area and began to pour the drinks himself, he started to make small talk between the two detectives.
"So by what pleasure does this visit to the White Masquerade illicit?"
"How well did you know Thomas and Martha Wayne?" Bullock asked in between sips of his drink.
"Not very well, I'm afraid. I mean, sure, they came in here on the occasional date night, but beyond that, I never knew them outside of the news."
"Then would you mind telling us why Marvin Isley said that Thmoas Wayne was in here two nights ago?" Gordon interjected.
"Really? I never saw him. Then again, I wasn't here that night."
"It's your club." Bullock commented from behind his second glass of whiskey.
"Hey, a guy needs a break every once in a while."
"Well then who was here?" Gordon questioned.
"That would be me." The man that appeared behind Gordson was heavy-set, yet also muscular in a way. When Gordon and Bullock turned around to face him, they immediately knew who he was.
"Gilzean."
"Gordon."
"Butch!" Bullock had responded with much more enthusiasm than Gordon.
"Hey, Harvey. How's the arm treating you?" Bullock's arm was shot a year ago when a shootout occurred between the GCPD and a street gang calling themselves 'The Mutants.'
"It's fine. Still a bit stiff, though."
"So, what do you fellas need from me?"
"Gilzean, what was Thomas Wayne doing in here Thursday night?"
"From what I can remember, I think he was here to grab a drink, but he seemed a bit on edge, kept saying someone was after his family. He started to sweat, so I gave him a handkerchief I found earlier that day."
"Do you know who left the handkerchief?"
"Sure I do, Marvin Isley. He was in here last week." Hearing this confirmed what Gordon had suspected. Isley was here and was lying straight to their faces. The mood was dampened by Gordon's phone going off. Gordon looked at the caller ID. His wife.
"Hey, hon." Gordon answered the phone with caution.
"Hey, where are you, the dinner reservations were an hour ago." His wife, Barbara was an impatient, yet understanding woman. However, that did not excuse the fact that Gordon had forgotten that he had made reservations at Chez Vous, one of the most exclusive dining establishments in Gotham.
"I'm sorry, but work is running kinda late, but listen, if I can wrap this up in the next hour, we'll go dancing, ok?"
"Ok, fine, but I'm picking the food." Barbara agreed and hung the phone up with a click in Gordon's ear.
"Well, boys, it has been fun, but I can't keep the wife waiting."
"Where are you two going?" A small mild-mannered man appeared behind Gordan and introduced himself. "Oswald Cobblepot, Mr. Sionis' new assistant."
Gordon looked at the small man with a look of confusion as he wondered why this man would want this detail. But before he could answer, Gilzean had cut him off.
"What do you want, Penguin?" Cobblepot had tensed up at the mention of 'Penguin', but never said anything. Instead, he simply breathed and answered.
"There is a phone call for Mr. Sionis in his office."
"And that would be my cue to leave. It has been a lovely time chatting tonight, but Butch, if you would kindly show our guests the door."
"We can find our way out ourselves, thanks." Bullock retorted as he and Gordon left the club and parted ways.
"Guess what this is?" Edward Nygma held up a bag of small metal shavings for Gordon and Bullock to see. Bullock, however, thought it was far too early in the morning to deal with Nygma's brainteasers.
"Just tell me Ed, I've only had 2 hours of sleep since last night, so if I wanted riddles, I would've read the funny pages." Bullock detested. Nygma looked slightly defeated at this statement, but carried on anyway. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small notebook where he kept various observations he made during autopsies in the GCPD examination room.
"These are shaving from an object I estimated to be around 6-7 inches long, made out of a mixture between Tungsten and Aluminum. Scrapped it from Thomas Wayne's chest cavity"
"That's an odd mix." Gordon commented while taking the bag of shavings from Nygma. "Must've been one hell of a bullet"
"It wasn't a bullet." When Nygma made this statement, Gordon and Bullock both looked at him with confusion. Taking this as a cue, Nygma continued. "It was a knife wound. However, due to the materials found in the shavings, it's extremely unlikely that we could even find a knife that is made from those types of materials."
"Except from the Maronis and the Falcones." All three men looked towards the entrance of the GCPD to find Sionis' assistant from the night before.
"I'm sorry, who are you?" Nygma was slightly irritated by this unknown man waltzing into the station and cutting him off, but also kicking himself for not seeing the connection to the two warring crime families of Gotham earlier.
"Oswald Cobblepot, personal assistant to Richard Sionis." As Cobblepot walked, Gordon and Bullock had noticed something they had missed from last night. It appeared that Cobblepot had a slight waddle to his step, causing him to walk similar to that of a penguin, a comparison which wasn't helped by his slightly pointed nose. Gordon and Bullock finally understood the name from the night before. "And I know where they are going to meet next."
"Wait, the Folcanes and Maronis are meeting?" Bullock had trouble believing his ears as any meeting between the Falcone and Maronis always ended up in bloodshed.
"That is correct, on Gotham pier 6 at 11 am today to discuss something, but I'm not sure what."
"So, let me get this straight, the two biggest crime families are going to Gotham pier to have a civil discussion, without any shootout?"
"Yes."
Gordon looked at his watch to find out that the two families were meeting less than 30 minutes, causing him and Bullock to race out of the station to stop a potential war from happening. This left Cobblepot alone in the station with dumbfounded Nygma. After almost a full minute, Cobblepot spoke up.
"I will also be going now." Cobblepot quickly left the station to avoid any awkward silence between him and Nygma.
Bullock almost gagged at the smell of rotting fish guts as he and Gordon drove onto Gotham pier. As they got out of the car, Gordon and Bullock managed to catch sight of Carmine Falcone along with some of his lackeys arriving at the pier. Opposite them were the Maronis, looking as if they meant to start a fight.
"Why did you call us, Maroni?" Falcone was a tall man, pushing close to 60. He had a tough gravelly voice that somehow also sounded like velvet at the same time.
"What, a man can't visit an old friend without somebody getting shot?"
"We aren't friendly and you know that. Now, I'll ask again, why did you call us?"
"I want to make a deal with you and your buddies there."
"What kind of deal?" Falcone was nervous as he knew Salvatore Maroni well and knew when he had an ulterior motive to his businesses.
"I have seen some of you family doing business on my turf, so I think it's time to rectify that. You keep your family on your side of the city, and I'll keep my family on my side. And if you don't want to have any problems, you'll know what's best."
"And what if I don't agree to the deal?"
"Then we'll have some problems." As Maroni had finished laying out the deal to Falcone he heard some noise coming from the main pier. When he looked over into the area, he saw a car that was neither his or Falcone's.
"Cops."
"What?"
"We got cops here. Shoot at the first sign of movement." Bullock panicked and quickly tried to get back to the car, before being stopped by a bullet to the car door. Bullock looked back at Gordon, who had stared at him in utter confusion at Bullock's decision. Within minutes, there were more holes in the side of the car than one could count. Against the now constant barrage of gunfire, Gordon and Bullock managed to get behind the car.
"We need backup." Gordon suggested.
"You think?" Bullock retorted as he was careful to aim his pistol over the car hood with getting shot. Gordon had gotten to the CB radio that was in the car and called the dispatchers to send all the cars they have available. When the backup arrived, the pier soon turned into a warzone. The GCPD had managed to hold their own for a few minutes, but were forced to retreat after Falcone and Maroni brought in backups of their own.
After the entirety of the GCPD had left, Falcone walked over to Maroni.
"Do you think we should alert the Court?" Maroni asked.
"No, we don't need them worrying about the GCPD just yet."
Driving down the busiest street in Gotham during rush hour, Bullock discovered, was a very stupid decision.
"You just had to move, didn't you?" Gordon seemed to be enjoying Bullock's misery.
"Shut up, Jim." As soon as there was an opening in the traffic, Bullock yanked the wheel of the car hard to the right and turned the corner, hoping to find a faster way to the station, only to come within inches from hitting a young girl. The girl was just about to run away, before she found her caught by Bullock.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, kid? I almost ran you over." As Bullock continued to berate her, she noticed the badge at his side and blurted out something she thought she would never say to the cops.
"I know who killed Thomas and Martha Wayne."
"What did you say?"
"I know who killed them." Bullock looked back at Gordon, who was as confused as he was. Bullock threw her in the back of the car and headed off towards GCPD. As she sat in the back of the car, Gordon asked for her name.
"Selina, Selina Kyle."