Excerpt from the February 6, 2009 Edition of the Gotham Gazette, local section:
New Headquarters for Gotham Social Services
In an announcement that many regard as surprising, given the current economic climate, The Gotham Department of Social Services announced that they will be undertaking construction of a new headquarters, equipped with state-of-the-art technology and a number of other conveniences tailored towards the overburdened social workers. Ground-breaking will take place in July of this year, and construction is expected to be completed within 18 months.
Through a statement issued by the Director's office, The Gotham Gazette learned that the majority of the funding comes from a private, anonymous donor, but that one of the senior social workers, Clara Briggs, was instrumental in securing the donation...
The last edition of The Gotham Gazette that she'd be reading for a while, and this was it? Annabeth gritted her teeth and restrained the urge to throw the newspaper against the wall. She didn't have a single doubt about who the "anonymous donor" was, and she knew exactly how that odious Briggs woman had secured the donation. And to make it doubly insulting—they weren't hiring more social workers or increasing the stipend paid to foster families, no. They were building a fancy new building.
It would be neither the first time, nor the last, that Annabeth found herself absurdly happy to be leaving Gothm. But she hadn't left yet—she still had her home to pack up, and Donna's home to deal with, as well. On that last count, at least, she had an option—she was going to hire movers to come in, pack things up, and put everything in storage, to be sorted through later. After Timmy was older, and he had come to her and settled into his new life.
If he got that chance.
From a press release issued by Safe Haven, Inc.:
New Director Appointed to Safe Haven
The board members of Safe Haven, Inc. are pleased to welcome Ambershawn Truelove as their newly-appointed director. Ms. Truelove, a recent transplant from Seattle, comes to us with a wide background in social work, advocacy, and fund-raising, and was most recently the Associate Head of Operations at Gateway Shelter, Seattle's largest women's shelter.
Says Ms. Truelove: "I'm very excited to join the team of dedicated employees here at Safe Haven, and I'm very excited, too, by the opportunity to work with such a dynamic and committed board. While Safe Haven is a relatively new organization, it has the benefit of therefore being young and open to innovation. I hope to contribute to Gotham, and the people we serve, to the best of my abilities."
With an improbable name like Ambershawn Truelove, Maya had been expecting just about anything or anyone to walk through the doors of Safe Haven. At this point, she wouldn't have been surprised if the board had hired a cross-dressing Mennonite, or perhaps a midget Buddhist with a furry fetish. Therefore, she was relieved when, on Ambershawn Truelove's first day at Safe Haven, she was presented with a short-statured, rather matronly-looking woman. Almost, Maya suspected, like what Annabeth would look like in twenty years
"You're Maya," Ambershawn's smile was warm and genuine. "The board has told me that you're the person I need to befriend if I want to be successful here, so I'm very excited to meet you. I hear you're getting married soon?"
All of the charm that Donna had, with a little more warmth, and a lot less of the glamor, but no less likable for that reason. Maya believed in being adaptable, so she adapted, and soon fell into the rhythm of working at a place without Annabeth and Donna. It wasn't nearly as difficult as she had thought it would be, but in typical, modest Maya fashion, she didn't realize that that had as much to do with her own strength of character as it did anything else.
Excerpt from the March 22, 2009 Gotham Gazette, Society Pages:
Where in the World is Bruce Wayne?
As spring finally, FINALLY begins to settle in and open the doors to Gotham's brief but delightful social season, many of us are wondering one simple thing: Where in the world is Bruce Wayne?
Normally a regular on the Gotham social scene, he has been almost completely absent in the past two months. Is he halfway across the world, perhaps frolicking in the waters of Aruba with the Russian ballet? Or could it be possible that he is nursing a broken heart?
People talked. People wondered. People called, they emailed, they kept an eye out. And more often than not, they were disappointed—Bruce Wayne seemed to have completely dropped off the face of the Earth, or at least the Gotham Social Scene. Soon, the rumors were circulating. He and that Annabeth woman had eloped. No, they had broken up, and now Bruce was in Vale. Was it Vale? So-and-so said something about the Poconos. But someone said that they ran into him the other evening, coming out of the Gotham Rotary Headquarters, looking as dazed and confused as ever. This last particular tidbit of information, oddly enough, was the only truly accurate one.
One thing they all knew for certain—speculating about the possibilities of Bruce Wayne's whereabouts was a lot less satisfying than witnessing them firsthand. Gotham wasn't the same without its bumbling beloved Prince.
But It wasn't just Gotham's social scene that was being neglected. The streets of Gotham were, too. Maggie kept an eye out for the Batman, but he was no where to be seen, and no one mentioned having seen him, either. But remarkably, the crime rates began to hold steady, and then drop. Alfred kept an anxious eye on Bruce, but the younger man offered nothing by way of explanation. He traveled into the city to go to work, and then to visit Safe Haven, but most every evening, he returned to the Manor. And he didn't venture out again until the next day.
Barbara did what she could to keep an eye out for the Batman. She gently grilled her father, but got little useful information from him. She scanned the newspapers—both mainstream and underground—for any mention at all, any rumors about the Batman. But there was nothing. Radio silence.
It was like he had never been there.
Excerpt from the front page of the Monday, March 30, 2009 edition of The Gotham Gazette:
Mayor Garcia Announces Second Rally
The Mayor's office issued a statement today, indicating that the City of Gotham will be backing a second "Take Back the Night Rally" this autumn, the date to be announced later this year. No further information is available at this time, and the Mayor's office did not return telephone calls seeking comments on the matter.
"How'd you manage that?" Bruce asked Katie Moriarty one day as they lingered over a lengthy Sunday brunch. Contrary to recent speculation, Bruce was not dead or missing in action; he had simply become more reclusive, more choosy in where he went, and when, and with whom. Katie Moriarty had been an unexpected revelation; she represented an older, comfortably-married woman, relatively free of scandal and drama, but filled with interesting and often salacious conversation.
Katie shrugged nonchalantly. "It wasn't too difficult. My husband-"
"Your husband?" Bruce practically hooted. "The President of Gotham University? The one whose name no one knows, or ever even mentions?"
"Yes, him." Katie helped herself to the pitcher of mimosas that the waitress had left. "He took Garcia out for drinks and steaks the other night. It wasn't too hard. The man's really a bit of a whore for the highest bidder. And now without Annabeth de Burgh trotting about, rubbing him the wrong way, he was quite pliable. Not that he didn't need some smacking around, and our Annabeth was the perfect one to do it..." She drifted off as she remembered who she was talking to, and saw the pain briefly pass through Bruce's expression. "Anyway, flies with honey and all of that."
Bruce had always preferred vinegar to honey, himself.
Teaser headline in the Saturday, April 4, 2009 edition of The Gotham Gazette:
Giving Voice to the Silent Victims of Unspeakable Crimes
With all of the press coverage that has been dedicated to the trials of Seth Percival, Michael Donzetti, Jones Le Blanc, and several other men and women implicated in the "Violent Night" incident, it is very easy to forget the other, more silent half of this event: the victims.
In most cases, they are still nameless. In all cases, they are by definition "illegal aliens", but in many of the cases, they had little say in how they arrived here. But regardless, they are here now, and they are our responsibility. Do we send these females—some as young as thirteen—back to their countries, back to the poverty that often landed them in this predicament to begin with?
Due to the proactive nature of our Police Commissioner, along with the cooperation of various federal agencies and municipal halfway houses, the victims of "Violent Night" are safe, and are in the process of being issued green cards. But this is just one happy ending in an otherwise deeply problematic issue which is rapidly becoming a hot-button topic in American discourse. However, before we jump too heatedly into this debate, perhaps we should learn a little more about the faces behind the names of "Violent Night." In this Sunday's Gotham Times Magazine, Vicki Vale interviews several of the young women who endured hell before being rescued by Commissioner Gordon, his team, and—if rumor is to be believed—the Batman...
Trinity rolled her eyes and set the newspaper down. Vicki Vale would be a wonderful reporter one day, if she could wriggle out from underneath the grasp of that subpar Gazette. This was one of the many things Trinity was beginning to learn she didn't miss about Gotham; here in South Florida, she had the Miami Herald and all the quality journalism she could hope for.
Also, sun.
She would be returning to Gotham soon, for the trials of Donzetti and le Blanc, but after that, she was gone again, and intending to never return. Miami had been a revelation, and the little condo where the Feds had set her up was just the right size for her tastes and needs. Perhaps, once she was settled in, she could move her mother down to some place nearby—but not too close, of course. Perhaps Fort Lauderdale. Close enough that Trinity could get to her easily, but far enough away that it was unlikely she'd be involved in her daily—or nightly—business.
Had she learned any lessons? Most certainly, but not lessons that a preacher or moralist would appreciate. She'd never again allow herself to be manipulated or duped into becoming someone's tart. And while she certainly wasn't about to leave her business behind, she would never again even consider the possibility of becoming a madam. She had seen, too much, what power could do to people, and she was just fine exercising power and authority over no one but herself, thank you very much.
There was one thing that had shifted inside of her. Since the night that the Batman had torn through the stash-house in Gotham, kicking ass and liberating women, Trinity had been thinking, almost nonstop, about the women who had cowered in that attic. They had been young, and desperate, and scared, and she found herself thinking of the ways in which their lives had led them to that point, and pondering the differences between her and them, and really, her and all women. Maybe they weren't so different.
As she tossed the paper into the recycling bin, Trinity's eye fell on the phone book that she had tossed in the bin a few days before. Who used phone books anymore? she had wondered. But now, she paused, and then pulled it back out. Once this trial was done, she'd look up the number of a few shelters. Maybe there was something she could do to help them.
Excerpt from the Wednesday, April 15, 2009 edition of the Gotham Gazette:
Record Breaking Trial Produces Conviction, Lengthy Sentence
In Gotham City, the old addage is "The only thing more shocking than the crime rates is the lack of justice." The typical murder trial takes an average of fourteen months to make it to a court room, and conviction rates are well below the national average. Once convicted, the felon must usually wait (courtesy of the taxpayers' money, of course) for a sentencing process that can take as long as two months.
When all of this is taken into account, then, it makes the initial results of the speedy "Violent Nights" trials all the more surprising. Two days ago, the foreman of the jury announced to a packed court room that they had found Seth Percival guilty of attempted murder, as well as many lesser charges. He is the first to be tried and convicted in the most recent round of Gotham's Wars on Organized Crime, and what is even more remarkable is that the judge passed down the sentence less than 24 hours after Percival's convicton: thirty years in prison for the charge of attempted murder, plus an additional fifteen for the lesser charges. If passed, recent legislation introduced by Senator Gregory Winston will ensure that Percival is denied the possibility of parole until after he has served a minimum of two-thirds of his sentence.
Barbara didn't consider herself to be a cynical person. She worked hard to keep an element of positive hopefulness in her mind, and tried to recognize defeatist thoughts as they took root. But as she sat at the kitchen table and read Vale's most recent commentary on the "Violent Night Trials", and the hopeful speculation that perhaps there was a growing element of intolerance towards crimes against women, she couldn't help but to roll her eyes. Had Vale been stoned when she wrote this piece?
Well, maybe not. At Safe Haven, they had been delighted when they heard about Percival's conviction, and the news of his sentence a mere day later led many of them into the throes of near-ecstasy. Perhaps they were all feeling a little more hopeful, even Vale. And even if it was overly-optimistic, where was the harm in letting Gotham think that the times, they were a-changing? Maybe if you were told it enough, you'd start to believe it.
Well, there were other things that Barbara could change. And she would. She abandoned her newspaper and grabbed her helmet. Time to get over to Safe Haven, and rectify one more thing.