«An island. We're supposed to find an island. Somewhere in the ocean. With, as identifying features, 'has an hospital and an underground prison'.»
«Drop the pessimistic wise-ass gig, you don't do it nearly as well as me», Harvey retorted. «And yeah, with an hospital and an underground prison. It's not like we have nothing. Rich people getting new parts? Miraculous recoveries? There has to be something to find.»
Jim raised an eyebrow and tried not to feel like a photocopy of himself.
His partner had not shown his face in two weeks. Gordon had not tried to contact him either, so he had no right to complain, but he would have lied if he had said he had taken his friend's disappearance well. Then again, that was Harv'. When facing trouble, he'd retreat, and would only be lured by life or death situations.
Jim supposed organ trafficking rings were a life or death situation, though Bullock usually needed the danger to hit closer to home to actually involve himself.
They had met two streets away from the man's place, in the parking lot of a fast food joint, after a cryptic phone call.
«So are you going to tell me how you stumbled upon that story and why Selina Kyle is spying on us from the roof of the launderette?»
Harvey flinched and looked up, causing the girl to jump out of sight.
«OH COME ON!», he screamed. «WE KNOW YOU'RE HERE, YOU MIGHT AS WELL COME DOWN!»
He waited. Jim lifted his second eyebrow and waited too. It took nearly a minute, but the teenager scaled down the wall and joined them, huffing.
«Told you I didn't want to work with him», she whispered to Bullock.
«Oooh, poor baby. What about you suck it up and stop whining, you brat? You want help, you take the help you get.»
«I see you've made new friends», the blond said, nearly chuckling.
«Well, maybe he needed good ones», Selina snapped back, causing both the cops to gape.
«What the hell was that?» Harvey exclaimed.
The little thief lifted her chin, crossed her arms, and looked resolutely away from Jim. At least she was neither pointing a gun at his face, nor delivering to some crime lord. He supposed he had to count his blessings.
«Come on, Selina», the younger cop asked. «What did I ever do to you?»
«Do I need to make a list? Cause I don't have all day.»
Harvey groaned.
«Ooookay, little miss Sunshine, drop this right now. I know you're at a sensitive age and you're all impressionable and shit, but I'm gonna tell you as it is, Fish was no role model, and I haven't commented on you copying her godawful wardrobe, nor on the whole armed criminal thing-»
«You haven't stopped whining about it.»
«Nor on the whole armed criminal thing, but I'll be blunt, if you copy the 'utter bitch' act, someone will bash your skull in before the end of the day, and that someone will be me. Understood?»
She tried to stare him down to call his bluff, but the older man just stared right back, until she huffed and looked away. Jim was not altogether sure that he was bluffing. The blond chuckled. For a second, he felt alive again, like there was a ground under his feet and air to breathe. Even if it was «only» a suspension… Not being a cop - not feeling like he had the right to be one, either - had left him blank. He was not sure of who he was without the badge, but he was certain he did not like that person much.
He could still see the way Barbara's face had lit up when he had raised his fist hit her, as if she had always known what lurked under his skin. He had felt like bashing that grin off her face, which was exactly what she had aimed for, and she had laughed as he stalked out of the room and out of Arkham, to puke his guts out right outside.
«You wanted to know where the intel came from?» Harvey asked, turning to his partner. «Maria Mercedes 'Fish' Mooney, who, on virtue on being herself, was unable to have one normal day in her life. The months she was out of Gotham, she spent in that underground prison, or so she told her 'family'.»
«There's no 'or so she told', she did, that's how she got her weird eye. She pulled her own eye out when they threatened her to sell both to some patient…»
«Not a normal day in her life», Bullock mouthed.
«And the Dollmaker gave her the blue one instead.»
Jim froze.
«Dollmaker.»
«Yeah, Dollmaker. You two idiots caught the child snatchers, but you never went after their boss, right? Well, he kept snatching people, and I think he's doing it now.»
«Dollmaker.»
«Not that quick on the uptake, are you?»
«Will you please drop the aggressiveness and just explain what you know?»
«There was a strange kidnapping. Two boys, snatched by fake CPS workers? Like when that crazy lady and her friend came to grab kids from the streets?»
«The Winston children? Wouldn't that be too public an abduction? And the snatcher's M.O. was to grab as many victim as possible. This wouldn't fit…»
«Except it does», Harvey cut in. «I looked into it. I figured, since they took so many risks, the kids had to be special in some way. So I called in a few favors, got the boys' medical records. O negative, both of them. Universal donors.»
«Shit», Jim said. «Shit. We need to tell Sarah right now. The whole city should be looking after those boys.»
«One step ahead of you. I called her thirty minutes ago, told her to dig into the recent missing person's cases. And to be on the lookout for rich brats making miraculous recoveries», he added, which felt like a blow to the gut.
If organ traffickers had taken so many risks to get those specific kids, there was very likely a buyer lined up, back when they had been taken.
«O-type rich brats», the blond said. «Universal donors, but they can only receive transfusions from their own blood type. The same goes for transplants, I'm pretty sure.»
He sighed. The two brothers had probably been killed in the hours following their disappearance. They would have been very valuable, however. It was not out of the realm of possibilities for them to be kept alive so their organs could be harvested at separate times. Maybe they were extremely lucky and had only been relieved of the one kidney.
Another thought came to his mind.
«Why did you come to me with this?» he asked. «If you already got Essen to reopen the case?»
His phone rang. He cut the call short.
Bullock shrugged, uneasy, and exchanged a quick look with Selina.
«I need to find the Dollmaker», he mumbled. «Preferably before anyone else does. Sarah can be trusted, but she'll have to put a lot of people on this and I don't know who they report to. I-»
Jim's phone rang again. He hung up again.
Selina and the detective's unexpected alliance suddenly made a lot of sense.
«You're looking for Fish Mooney», the blond said. «You think Dollmaker has her.»
They looked at each other again. Selina shrugged. Harvey sighed, annoyed, and looked resolutely to the side.
«Yeah. I mean, I know she got out alive and was captured by someone», he explained.
«Oh for God's sake», Jim snapped.
His phone rang again. This time, he picked up, nearly shouting his greeting. There was a pause on the other side, then the last person the cop wanted to hear from replied.
«Jim, my friend! I'd like to invite you for tea.»
###
«You got me to play bodyguard to Carmine Falcone, in case you do not remember. You do not get to sulk about my trying to save my own crime lord's life.»
«I'm not sulking», Jim replied as his friend parked his car in front of Cobblepot's recently «acquired» mansion. «I'm just surprised about how optimistic you are, seeing how you kept telling me that Barbara was probably already dead, when the Ogre kidnapped her. »
Harvey got out of the car and leaned down to look at Jim, who was still sitting in the passenger seat.
«First thing first, those two ladies? Not really cut from the same cloth. And about Barbara? I was being optimistic», he finished, closing the car door.
The blond followed him out, sighing.
«I went to see her, you know?»
«Still?»
«Yeah. I think I might just stop.»
«Probably the best decision you could make», Harvey replied, staring at the mansion's doors. «Heh. I'd feel much better with a shotgun.»
Jim looked at the house, taking a deep breath. Cobblepot had let him know that his presence was mandatory, that he had some big news, and that he would be expecting him at five, no excuses. There had been something in his tone that made it clear that hanging up on him again was not going to go over well. The detective had done just that at least five times that month, and there had been no backlash. It only now occurred to Jim that it was not a good sign. He should have been concerned about that surprising forgivingness. In any case, tea was (probably) not going to kill him, and the news Cobblepot liked to share tended to be of the important variety.
Harvey had refused to let him go alone. «That scheming little jackass can't be trusted», he had said, which was the understatement of the century.
Jim breathed in.
The doors opened.
«James! I'm so glad you could make it», the Penguin greeted him. «I'm so glad to see you!»
He limped down the stairs, followed by two bodyguards, and grabbed Jim by the shoulders, and patting him on one. Then his face grew sour.
«Mister Bullock», he said in a dismissive tone.
«Penguin.»
Oswald's shot daggers at him, but quickly collected himself. He turned to the younger cop.
«I'm sorry, but your friend will have to surrender his weapons. I was recently shot by one of Fish Mooney's former lovers. I do not care to repeat the experience.»
Harvey rolled his eyes and handed his gun to the bigger guard (Gabe, if Jim was not mistaken). It didn't matter much to him, as he had a spare, and two very good knives.
«All of his weapons», Cobblepot clarified.
It was Bullock's turn to shoot daggers, and he surrendered his second gun with a lot less good grace.
«Shall we go in?» the crime lord prompted with a cheerful smile.
They did. They walked past the Gatling gun that was now decorating the hall, and a vast collection of modern automatic weaponry, all of it clearly ready to fire, to end up in the living room. It had been redecorated. Jim did not comment. Harvey didn't have the same survival instincts. He took a long, had look at the new furniture.
«Did someone let a blind undertaker loose in here?»
«Please take a seat», Oswald said in a clipped voice. «Fred, let the kitchen know tea and pastries are expected.»
Jim sat, carefully, on the edge of new sofa. His partner just dropped down on it and leaned back, attempting to sink into the stone-hard cushions.
«Is there any particular reason to this invitation?» the blond asked as Oswald took a seat himself.
The creep perked up and smiled, barely containing his enthusiasm.
«Why, friendship, of course!»
«I'm sorry?»
«Friendship. Our friendship. It's been a hard few months, and some things were said, and done, and I felt I had to - you know - do my part to smooth the terrain.»
Gordon blinked. A maid walked in and served them tea, to Harv's intense disgust. She had also brought croissants, cupcakes, and macarons.
«Jim», their host said. «You threatened me with a firearm, insulted me, and arrested me. It's fair to say our relationship is quite strained. I figured I'd take the high road and forgive you, however. Consider this a peace offering.»
«Croissants?»
Oswald clicked his tongue.
«No, silly! For the actual peace offering, you'll have to wait…» - He peeked at the grandfather's clock. - «Four more minutes.»
«I'm sorry about the 'threatening you with a firearm' part. I assume you mean when I was trying to find Barbara Kean? It was not my best moment, it was a matter of life and death. That being said, I hope you don't expect me to apologize for arresting you. You were going to murder a man in cold blood.»
«Oh please. We're talking about Carmine Falcone. Do you take him for an altar boy? Because I can easily line up a collection of eastern European trollops who'd happily testify on how their passports were taken from them when they were put to work in his brothels. Among other things.»
«Hate to agree with the guy», Harvey chimed in, chewing on a macaron, «but he has a point.»
«He was the only one able to stop Gotham from falling into chaos», Jim replied. «I never for a second thought he was a good man.»
«On that first point, I beg to differ», Cobblepot snapped back, his polite facade cracking at the edges. «And might I point out you let him leave town? Which, sincerely, leads me to believe you thought his trade was friendship bracelets and girl scout cookies. I'm surprised you didn't drag him to some cell.»
The blond nearly reached for the knife attached to his hip - just to touch it, as suddenly felt very heavy on his belt - but stopped himself.
«If I had tried to keep him in Gotham, he would be a corpse by now. Probably with your helping hand.»
Oswald shook his head, smiling, and turned the TV on.
«There's no point trying to pick a fight, James. As I was saying, I'm trying to patch things up. It would be counterproductive to argue with you, wouldn't it?»
Jim peeked at the screen, vaguely noting the news channel's logo. Then he did a double-take.
A journalist was interviewing a very familiar man.
«It was a money grab. A shameless money grab», he was saying. «And I'm sorry for nearly ruining several careers with that godawful trick. The truth is I was never beaten into confessing the murder of my wife. I confessed because I- I… I had no idea if I had done it. I'm an addict, and I was not able to remember what had happened that night. I couldn't even have told you if I'd seen her. But… It was possible. When I use… I don't know myself. I had hit her before. I had. She had called the cops on me because I was violent, so had our neighbors. And then she died and I could not remember a thing. So I thought… 'It has to be you, it can only be you'. I didn't even know she was seeing someone else. If I believed I had done it, and said I had, and signed my name on a piece of paper to swear I had… What were the cops supposed to think?»
Harvey stared at the television, stunned.
Jim leaned back in his seat, livid.
«What did you do to him?» he asked in a blank voice.
Cobblepot chuckled.
«Nothing! That's the beauty of it!»
The cop turned to him, studying his face, knowing most of what the criminal would say next would be lies.
«Nothing», Oswald repeated. «I've learned my lesson from that unfortunate incident with Derek Delaware. No. I had my team of lawyers figure out how much that scammer would have extorted from the GCPD if it had settled on that lawsuit, and I offered him a few thousand dollars more to do this», he explained, pointing at the screen. «It was actually a quite negligible sum. Pocket change, really. As it turns out, the man had no credibility whatsoever. No matter. Now, he gets to retire in Spain, and I believe you get to keep your job. How is that for a peace offering?»
###