I was never too fond of Mister Earle. He always struck me as one to sell a child for a large sum of money or something like that. So his being shot didn't strike me as such a big issue, especially since it hadn't been a fatal wound. Sure it had knocked him unconscious (probably from the shock of being shot), but still not fatal. Needless to say, I wasn't too concerned for his health. Hell, I didn't even like the guy.
As it was, however, I was being forced to stand next to Michelle as the paramedics came up and hauled Mister Earle away to the ambulance waiting below on the street.
"So what happened?" I asked Michelle.
"For once…I haven't a clue."
I had left my office at the usual time, arriving around eight in the morning the next day as is my normal routine. Something in Wayne Tower, however, was quite off. People stared as I made my way to the elevator, and they did as I walked down the hall to my office. I thought maybe my black slacks and olive button up shirt with a tank top under it, complete with black high heels, made them wary to be near me. This was even one of my normal outfits, instead of my outrageous ones I liked to wear. I also found it odd that Michelle didn't even look up as I entered our office.
"That was a weird walk up here," I said, setting my briefcase on my desk. "Did they figure out who shot Mister Earle?"
"Yeah," Michelle said quietly, still not meeting my gaze. I was about to ask her what her issue was when two police officers entered.
"Evelyn Larrabee?" one asked. I raised an eyebrow.
"That's me," I said.
"You're under arrest for attempted murder. You have the right to remain…"
"What?" I interrupted as the second cop pulled out a pair of handcuffs. He snapped them around my wrists. "And what makes you two think I did it?" I asked.
"Your fingerprints were found on Mister Earle's doorknob to his office and on the pistol we found in the dumpster, where you threw it," the first cop said. I let out an exasperated grunt.
"It wasn't me!" I shouted. "Michelle! Michelle, you cannot be believe these people!" I cried. My friend stayed quiet, not wanting to get involved.
"Michelle!"
"You have the right…," the second cop began once more.
"To kick someone's ass," I said. "You guys are making the biggest mistake of your life."
"Just be quiet and follow us," the first one said. He yanked at my arm as he and the other cop escorted me down the hallway. I ignored the stares from my co-workers.
We reached the street in front of Wayne Tower, and the cops shoved me in the back of the patrol car.
"You going to give me a ticket for not wearing my seatbelt back here?" I asked, glaring at the two cops in the front seats. They remained quiet. "You two are going to regret this."
"We take that as a threat, Miss Larrabee," the one driving said.
"It's not a threat. It's a promise," I replied. I had never been good with cops, especially not the ones in Gotham. Anyone who let themselves be buy out by thugs wasn't real high on my list.
I glared angrily at the three others in the temporary jail cell I was placed in. They glared back.
I turned to the lock on the door, making sure the guard was well down the hallway first. I pulled out the piece of chalk I had in my bra (the only safe place for it) and drew a circle around the keyhole. I stuck my arm through the bars of the cell and drew another on the opposite side of the lock.
Then I simply pushed the circle out.
It clattered to the floor and I watched in dismay as the guard turned.
"What was that?" he called, walking back toward the cell. I quickly shoved the chalk back down my bra.
"I don't know," I stated simply, giving the others in the cell the sign to be silent. The guard approached, staring down at the lock. My mind raced and I acted swiftly, slamming open the heavy metal door into the guard's head. He moaned then fell to the cement floor. I leapt over his unconscious body and rushed for the exit.
I walked smoothly through the precinct, trying to not direct any attention toward myself. Thankfully enough I was out of the precinct and on the steps before the commotion inside started up.
I heard shouts, but not for long because I had started to sprint down the sidewalk. I ducked into an alleyway, jumping over a fallen garbage sack. My heels didn't take to kindly to that and I fell face first into a puddle of who-knows-what. Trying to quell my urge to vomit, I stood and rushed the rest of the way down the alley.
My apartment was several blocks away. I walked quickly, ignoring the stares I was receiving from all of the gunk that had accumulated on my person. I climbed the stairs to my apartment two at a time, reaching for my keys.
Dammit.
I'd forgotten that those rat-bastard cops had taken them. I grunted, slamming my fist on the door. Then I tried the knob.
Leave it to me to leave the door unlocked.
I ran back to my bedroom, flinging open my closet and changing clothes. A shower would have to wait until I reached the hotel. The suitcase I had fetched from under my bed was lying open on the covers and I began to fling clothes into it. With aforementioned suitcase under my arm, I ran to get my hidden stash of 'emergency money.' With it safely in the pocket of my jeans, I left my apartment and hailed a taxi.
As I sat listening to Elton John blare through the speakers, something struck me. An epiphany, if I'm not mistaken.
"Stop here, please!" I almost shouted. The taxi driver slammed on his breaks and I tossed a twenty in the passenger seat as I climbed out of the cab. I hauled my suitcase into the costume shop, depositing it at the counter, asking the clerk to watch it a moment. I didn't wait for a reply as I rushed to the back of the store. I yanked a costume from its rack, staring at it approvingly. I grabbed a domino mask then went back to the cashier.
"Last minute party," I told the clerk as he handed me my suitcase and I placed the costume on the counter.
"Uh-huh," he said, ringing it up. I paid, and he gave me my bag. I rushed back onto the street, then walked the few blocks to the hotel Isaac was staying at, clutching the bag to my chest.
"Hi," I said to the receptionist. "Can you tell me which room Isaac Fischer is staying in?" She complied without incident, or much interest, and I boarded the elevator to the fourth floor. I walked down to suite four-oh-nine and knocked. Isaac answered.
"Sunshine?" he asked as I pushed past him into his room.
"Hey, Shorts!" I said, merrily plopping my suitcase and bag onto the floor. "I just need to hang out here for a while. As in however long you're in the city."
"What did you do!" he asked, clearly exasperated. I explained my situation, stating almost seven times that I did not shoot Mister Earle, and that I had had an epiphany.
"You know how you always say to take the initiative and do something to change all of the injustice? Well, I am. I had this great realization of just how many innocent people are probably put in jail for something they didn't do. Or how many innocents are killed because of maniacs like Falcone and his thugs! Thanks to you, Isaac my dear, I now know how I plan to change Gotham. I say piss on the cops! If they think they can arrest the Theatric Phantom, they're dead wrong!
"It's perfect! It's just the thing that I need! I can maybe even work alongside the Batman. Well, that's assuming he likes a partner. Who knows? I might even be able to take out that new villain that's running amok!" I was chattering excitedly as I paced the length of the room, gesticulating wildly with my hands.
"Whoa! Wait? The Theatric Phantom? What's that?" Isaac questioned, now sitting on his bed.
"My vigilante name. Or superhero name. Whatever you want to call it," I said, pulling out the costume I'd bought. "And this is my costume!"
"You're fighting crime in that?"
"I'm the Theatric Phantom. Why not have a magicians outfit?"
"Because it's a leotard with a bow and lace. How do you ever expect to seem intimidating in that?"
"I'm going to alter it, Shorts."
"I sure as hell would."
I admit, it was a bit frilly. But once it was free of the bow (and lace) and I had it all on, it would look way cool. Not to mention the fact that it even had a cape. I mean, honestly. What superhero is complete without a cape?
"Anyway, Shorts, like I said. I may need to be hanging out here for a few days until I can get those idiotic police off of my tail," I said again.
"Just don't get me arrested. I don't need another imprisonment on my record."