Chpt. XIX: Capital of Crime

Dick sat beside the hospital bed at Gotham General. He looked down at his leg. He had fractured a bone in his leg, the same one that he hurt in Old Gotham & in Chinatown. According to the doctor, it would heal soon. All that was required was icing the leg, keeping the leg elevated, & relaxing. That was garbage.

Dick scoffed at the idea. He had endured worse pain in Old Gotham. He could push passed it.

The hospital room door opened, with Bruce Wayne & Detective Gordon entering.

"God dammit, Dick!" Bruce groaned.

"Yeah, fuck you too!" Dick snapped back.

"Hey!" Gordon called out. "Wayne, Dick, calm down."

Dick breathed inward heavily as he stared Bruce down. His fists were clenched, but he quickly relaxed his hands & adjusted the collar on his blazer.

Dick rolled his eyes. "I only have a fractured leg. I'll be fine."

Wayne nodded silently. Gordon eyed him, then turned to Dick. "That's good."

Dick slowly nodded, then looked down at his leg. He wiggled his foot around. It sent sharp pains up his body. Dick winced at the feeling, then stopped. He kept his eyes shut for a moment, and breathed deeply. "Gordon, tell me, how many people died?"

The question hung in the air with tension & silence. The billionaire & detective quietly glanced at one another, then to the ground. "14," Bruce Wayne said, breaking the silence. Dick turned to him. "Roughly 20 others were injured. The bomb's blast radius wasn't that big. It didn't go passed the intersection."

Dick shook his head. "Tell that to the 14 dead people."

Gordon stepped up to the bed, towards Dick. "The intersection is contained. We blocked it off, so right now there's not a lot any of us can do. People are resting, trying to recuperate. The coffee shop & the boutique next door have to repair some of their damaged property, but it's not that bad right now.

Dick felt his hands grow numb as he listened to the cop. "I don't understand how you two can talk about this so...nonchalantly. People died. INNOCENT people. They BLEW UP. No one died when the Old Gotham subway blew up. A few kids broke a few wrists, but they had it coming. They were adolescent animals. The Olympus building had NO casualties either. A few gunmen, & that's it. THOSE, you guys gave shit about. But this, you two can brush off like it's nothing? What the hell is wrong with you two?"

"Dick," Bruce started. "We live in a world run by chaos. Since 9/11, there have been roughly 200 deaths in terrorist attacks on American soil. If you're looking at the country's crime rate in general, there are over 1,100,00 crimes reported each year. Over 30,000 people die every year from these violent crimes, & you know what? That's what our country is built on. Gotham City is just the capital of it all."

Gordon sighed. "I had to agree, but he's right, Dick. The city just gets more & more violent. Sure, we have our occasional dry spells of violent crimes being committed, but at the end of the day, Dick, we are the capital of crime in America. Tons of people die. We as Americans have just become...I guess numb to it."

Dick stared at the two in disgust. "God, you guys make me sick."

Bruce cleared his throat. "But the Batman is definitely helping out, isn't he, Detective?" he said with a grin.

Gordon groaned. "Bruce, you know that's a difficult subject for me."

Dick eyed the two for a second. "Um," he said softly. "I met him."

Bruce & Gordon both looked at Dick. "What?" Gordon said.

Dick scratched his neck. "I, uh...met him the night before."

Gordon stared at Dick, then glanced back at Bruce. "I'm sorry, I'm going to need a minute alone with Dick."

Bruce shook his head. "No, I want to take him home to rest."

Gordon held a hand up. "I'm sorry, I'm going to have to insist."

Bruce turned to Dick. "You don't have to answer anymore questions. You're under a lot of pain & you don't need to stay here."

Dick was confused about Bruce's sudden concern for him. Since when did he care about what Dick told the police. "I don't mind, Wayne. I won't be long."

Bruce stared Dick down for a moment, but sighed and nodded softly. He turned & walked out of the hospital room, closing the door behind him.

Dick turned to Gordon, who walked over to a chair beside the bed & pulled it closer to Dick. "Okay Dick," he started. "Let's talk."

"I don't know who the Batman is, Detective." Dick said bluntly.

Gordon nodded. "Alright, Dick. That's fine." He removed a notepad & pen from the inside of his coat. "Tell me what you DO know about him."

Dick looked at the notepad in the detective's hand and sighed. "He's tall. Buff. But his suit is a big armor, so I don't know if he's even that big or if he's a tall scrawny guy."

"Anything...distinctive about him that you could tell me? Any facial features that stuck out? Maybe an accent of a sort?"

Dick shook his head. "The Bat wore a mask, I didn't see his face. His voice was distorted too."

Gordon jotted the notes down. "Okay. So what did he say to you specifically?"

Dick shook his head. "He knows about Nolan Drake & Old Gotham. He knows that Drake has a plan brewing up. He knows that Oswald Cobblepot is supplying Drake's weapons."

Gordon ran a hand through his hair. "Dammit, not Cobblepot."

Dick continued. "Cobblepot's helping Drake. They've got this plan to take over the city, but Cobblepot plans to kill Drake & take over from there."

Gordon sat back and sighed. "Cobblepot is off limits."

Dick raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Gordon took a deep breath. "The GCPD is well aware of Cobblepot's involvement in the city's criminal activity. He pays for most of the police department's financial funds, though. He maintains his investments in his properties, provides us with funds, we let him do whatever else he needs. We arrest who we need & charge everyone BUT Cobblepot."

Dick shook his head. "This just keeps getting better & better."

Gordon nodded. "Yeah. I owe him a lot of favors myself."

Dick kept silent. He wondered what Gordon meant by that. Gordon nodded to Dick. "Anything else about the Batman that you could tell me?" Gordon asked.

Dick thought about it. "He has a car," Dick said after a pause.

Gordon stared at Dick. "Okay," he said.

Dick watched Gordon write notes down on the pad. "Are you trying to arrest the Batman?"

Gordon set the pen down & shut his eyes. He looked up at Dick. "Yeah. I am. The city does not tolerate vigilantism."

"He's helping with Nolan Drake's case, though."

"Where was he today, Dick?" Gordon spat. "When 14 people died today, where was he?"

Dick kept quiet. Gordon took a shuddery breath. "Me & Barbara were down the street when that bomb went off. We were right...there."

Suddenly James Gordon broke down. He began crying uncontrollably. Jim buried his face into his hands. He was hunched over, his head sinking into his lap. His shoulders rose & fell rapidly with each horrid breath he heaved. His sobs were low, but loud. Dick had never seen a grown man cry.

Dick felt horrible. Just hours earlier, Jim was telling Dick about his life threatening his daughter's safety. Today was just a reminder of that very truth. And Dick hated it.

Dick leaned towards Gordon. "It's okay," Dick whispered to Jim. "You're right. You & Barbara could've easily been one of the 14 who died today. So could I. But we didn't. Luckily, we survived. But THIS is why this bombing is a big deal, Jim. One of those 14 could have been someone else's daughter dying, or someone else's father. Any terrorist attack is still unacceptable. A hell of a lot more intolerable than a vigilante doing some good. But that's okay. Cry about how close this bullet came. Because while you sit here and sob, Nolan Drake & Oswald Cobblepot are planning something else, & will murder more people. Drake gives NO shits. You don't either, & that's fucking fantastic. But I do. I'm going to stop him from murdering another 14 people. I'm going to stop him from killing someone's daughter. I'm going to murder Nolan Drake."