Money. They won't get far without money. He's got false ID, of course, but it won't take long for the Shadows to work their way through all the false leads that Paula and he had set up to protect themselves. Cash is a hell of a lot harder to trace, and he has a good sized stash in a bolt hole just a few blocks away.
It was going to be for our anniversary, Paula. We were finally going to get to take the girls on a real vacation … I've been saving for months …
He leaves Jade and Artemis in the car with the doors locked. Jade's got his best revolver and she knows how to use it—he'd made damn sure of that years ago. He wants to run, but he makes himself walk to the third rate apartment. Running men attract attention—and he couldn't afford that with half the cops and God knows how many of the Shadows after him.
He opens the door—and Matches Malone is waiting for him.
"Hey, Lar. Sorry to hear about Paula. She was good people. Stone cold killer, but good people." Malone is bigger than he looks to an unpracticed eye—he wears clothes that are too big for him and he lounges about like he's not got a bone in his body let alone any muscle, but he's been known to lift a grown man off his feet with one hand.
"Malone. How the hell did you know about this place? What do you want? I don't have time for your crap."
"I'm Matches Malone. What I don't know about Gotham ain't worth knowing, Lar. I've got a deal for you."
He's debating if it'll be faster to kill Malone or just beat the hell out of him. "I'm getting out of Gotham, Malones. Find someone else."
"I doubt anyone else will want this information." Malone settles back in his chair and runs a hand through his hair. "For ten grand, I'll give you the name and address of the sniper."
The sniper. The man who killed the Huntress? The man who killed his wife? For an instant, he's almost giddy with anticipation. It'd take most of his money, but to be able to get his hands on Paula's killer …
"No," he finds himself saying. "I can't."
"You don't have the money?" Malone sounds disappointed, but his eyes are sharp.
"I got the money, but I need it. I gotta get my girls out of here, Malone." Malone knew he had kids, of course. It's hard to keep something like that a secret for long in Gotham. "It ain't safe for them here. The Shadows are sure to come."
"Be easier to let them have the girls."
"No!" He slams his hand down on the rickety coffee table so hard it breaks. "They ain't getting my girls!"
"Why not?"
He doesn't know why he answers. Malone is nothing to him. Why the hell does he care what Malone thinks?
"I made a promise to Paula. I'm getting out of the Life. I'm done with it, Malone."
"You tried that before, Lar. Didn't work out so well."
"I won't let the Shadows make my kids killers, Malone. They're going to be clean. They ain't going to be like Paula and me. They're going to be better."
Malone holds up a thin envelope and strikes a match. "You sure?"
He wants to grab the envelope, but he doesn't. "I'm sure."
Malone lights the envelope and tosses it into an ash tray. He reaches into a pocket and pulls out a thicker envelope. "Here."
"What's that?"
"Your stash—plus a little extra. There's a house key in there too. I got a place you can lay low in for a while."
"Why the hell are you doing this, Malone?" He doesn't trust Malone—doesn't trust good fortune.
"Maybe because I'm going soft. Maybe I don't want to see Paula's girls become assassins. Maybe I want you to owe me big time. Why the hell do you care? Take it before I change my mind."
He takes it.
For the girls, he takes it.
He opens the envelope and looks inside. Aside from the cash there's a smaller envelope with an address scribbled on it. "Kansas, Malone?"
"Yeah, little town I know about. No one will think to look for you there."
He's doubtful, but he hasn't got a better idea so he stuffs the envelope in his jacket. "Malone—Matches. Thanks. I'll pay you back."
He means it. Malone knows that. No one ever accused the Sportsmaster of being a welcher on his debts.
"I know you will, Lar. Now get going. Tell the girls their Uncle Matches say hello."
He doesn't trust himself to speak so he nods once.
"Lar? The Shadows. They will come after you. You know that, right?"
"I know." His face becomes expressionless as the mask he normally wears. "And when they find me, I'll make they wish they hadn't."
He heads outside and back to his car. He raps on the window.
Jade aims the gun right at his head long enough that he's not entirely sure what she's going to do.
"Jade! It's Dad! Stop messing around!"
At Artemis's words, Jade lowers the gun and opens the door.
He slips behind the wheel and turns the engine on. "Okay, girls. Say goodbye to Gotham. We got a long drive ahead of us."
"Where are we going, Dad?" Artemis's eyes are still bright with the tears that she's shed for her mother, but there's also an undercurrent of excitement. It had been years since they had left Gotham.
"Yes, Daddy dear. What is your brilliant plan?" Jade's eyes are cold emeralds; if she's cried over Paula, he sees no sign of it. "Where are we going?"
"A little town in Kansas." He pulls out on the road.
"Kansas?" Jade's nose wrinkles in disgust. "What's in Kansas?"
"It's what's not there, Jade. The Shadows will never think to look for us there."
"Hm. I'm not entirely sure that I wouldn't prefer the Shadows to—what is the name of this town, Daddy dearest?"
"Smallville."
And they drive off into the night.