Chapter Four: I've got magic tricks too; want to see a vanishing act?

Salvatore was staring down Steven like a lion ready to eat a chained-down gazelle. He had just asked where Holly Kingsley was. Sal knew Steve was decent at his job, but he was aware that Holly did more of the detailed work for the man. The bookie was sweating, "I uh… I dunno boss, she left the day before yesterday and just never came back. I've tried callin' her but she ain't picking up." His accent rocked through his voice when he was nervous.

They required the woman present to go over the accounting of their wealth with the other families. To divide who lost what and make any changes to help support each other in these trying times. Not only because of the new DA Dent but after losing an entire deposit drop point to a joker in clown makeup they now knew – for extra certain - their money was being tracked by the cops. Which was the real issue.

"Hope she isn't ill," or runnin', he thought to himself, "looks like you get to go it alone today, Steve. I trust you'll be fine." He had better be. Salvatore left the man to work with the other glorified bookies as they settled out what would look the best on paper; in the end, it was the decision of the only launder left that they needed, the Chinese man Lau.

He put his arms up some as he walked through the metal detector into the kitchen of their meeting place. His gun was taken from the help. Maroni missed the days when he and Carmine would meet like this, discussing territory or stolen goods from each other. Those days seemed whimsical compared to today. All the heads of the families in Gotham were here and he took his seat among them with his muscle in tow. Now he just needed to wait for the rest of the heads to show up.

Go Out With A Bang

"You know I heard Harvey Den-T put away every money laundering fellow in Gotham behind bars. Yet, here you all are." A clown of a man in a long purple coat came strutting in with three other more regular joes. The three aimed guns at the bookies.

Steven set his pencil down and laid his hands on the paperwork. He remained reserved. One of Gamble's boys spoke up cautiously, "We don't launder the money." They knew who he was, even if his face paint didn't give it away.

"Oh," Joker paused then spoke quickly, "so you're all disposable little monkeys playing with imaginary numbers on paper? Cute."

"We also don't take crap from party clowns."

"Tch, well I wouldn't want you to take my things," That sarcasm did not just drip from his voice, it flowed off his entire body when he moved closer to them, "but, just to prove a point that I'm not a bad guy." While they were all held at gunpoint by his men the Joker opened the right side of his coat. The loon had it lined with explosives of various styles. Grenades and pipe bombs to be more exact. He forced each and every one of them to hold one between their hands. Making sure they pressed down on the right spot then he pulled a pin, "Now, these little beauties won't go off until you release," His smile expanding wide across his scarred face, "and for the life of me I just can't remember which one of those was the plain crappy explosive one." The Joker laughed in a low way that gained in volume before he nearly skipped away towards the kitchens where the mafia meet was being held.

The goons of this clown slowly backed out of the way they had come from, locking them in the room.

Steven sat ramrod still, holding the pipe bomb-looking object. Fearing if he let go for even a second, it'd explode in his face. He was not too well versed in explosives, but he was very aware of what they did. He could not let himself get distracted even for a moment. Even so, he did notice his pencil was missing.

They all stayed sweating like that until the meeting was over. Once it was, the bosses finished up with no idea their men were waiting to get urgent help. They walked in on them all trying to explain at once. His trembling hands were given a once-over by Salvatore. The mafia head held up his hand and just spoke loudly over anyone still stalking, "Shut up. Don't move your fingers if you want to keep them." Salvatore concluded that Kingsley was also a victim of this clown's depravity rather than an accomplice. It was strange she had vanished the same day the bank was robbed. However, after his little heart-to-heart with her to rejoin the family, he knew she was the type to likely sass-talk the clown back and get herself killed. He'd have the boys keep a lookout for her, and maybe throw in some incentive money, be that as it may, truthfully it felt more like losing a loyal dog than someone of greater importance right now with all that was happening.

The bookies holding hand grenades and other possibly dangerous explosives were loaded into the back of an SUV and taken far out of town. One by one they had them release their grip to find out who the lucky 'winner' was. The GCPD would be lucky if they found his shoelaces.