Chess

The police station was practically buzzing with excitement the next morning. Officers shuffled past one another in cramped quarters, and the relaxed atmosphere humming around them was almost infectious. She sipped on her coffee quietly, offering an occasional demure smile at anyone that happened to catch her eye as they went about their duties. She had found that keeping silent was the best remedy for the acid trying to burn a hole in her chest; which was fine because she didn't really feel much like talking anyway. After all the time away, having to come to terms with being back in this awful city unpleasantly soured her stomach.

She was waiting to meet with Jim Gordon, whose actions on Fear Night had apparently granted him so much fame that it seemed that he was constantly busy. A female detective, one Brigid thought looked familiar with dark hair pulled into a strict ponytail, had informed her that Gordon had been promoted to Lieutenant, and was now the head of the newly formed Major Crimes Unit. The same Major Crimes Unit that housed the 'anti-vigilante task force'. Brigid had smiled politely, giving what she hoped was a satisfactory congratulations in response to the news, but she wasn't surprised.

Brigid knew, like Gordon and many police officers surely knew, that the anti-vigilante task force was a farce, but she wasn't going to say any of that to the detective. She hadn't forgotten all the terrorists in uniform on Fear Night, mixed in with the others that worked for the highest bidder. After realizing she was getting no other response from Brigid, the detective busied herself somewhere else, leaving her alone again to wait.

What confused Brigid was the idea that simply putting criminals in jail would solve Gotham's problems. It was difficult for her to comprehend such an unsophisticated response to such a complex issue. Whatever is going to change this city, she thought as she watched a trio of officers laughing with one another, will take years of hard work. She was painfully familiar with how badly vigilante justice could go wrong, now more than ever. Her small desk at the bureau had been frequently littered with old newspaper clippings of the riots- and subsequent massacre- in New York during the seventies the last time someone thought a caped crusader was the solution.

A deep throated cough snapped her back to attention, and she glanced up at the source of the noise to see Gordon. His smile was less tired than the last time she'd seen him, and the suit fit him better than his officers uniform ever had. Returning his smile, she rose and shook his hand warmly. It was an unexpected relief, seeing a familiar face.

"Good to see you," Gordon said, adding with a laugh, "And this time I really mean it,"

"Likewise," Brigid replied. "How have things been?"

Gordon's face crinkled slightly, as if he was forcing himself to smile. "We're making progress, you know how it goes. Still haven't caught Batman yet. Anyway, let's talk in my office. It's just down here to the right," He said, beginning to usher her through the station to the newer parts of the building. Brigid noticed several star spangled flyers littering desks as they passed, even a few buttons with a similar pattern affixed to a few officers' uniforms, though she couldn't make out the print on them. Twisting a corner of the rear hallway, Gordon had to dig in his pocket for a moment to find his keys, before letting them both in the room.

Brigid thought that Gordon's office, while nice enough, looked more like an oversized cubicle. It had light gray walls, and the windows lining the back of the room let in a drab light that leeched the color out of everything it touched. Gordon sat down at his small desk, leaving Brigid to close the door behind them before taking a seat across from him. She noticed numerous police reports spread across the desk, and idly wondered if they were related to Crane, or something else. Before she got the chance to ask however, Gordon gathered them up quickly and put them away.

Shoving aside her curiosity for the moment, she began pulling out files of her own to place on his desk. As she was pulling out her notepad and pen, Gordon spoke.

"I heard that things got a bit… tense after you left Gotham."

"Well, I guess that does sum it up pretty well," Brigid admitted, setting down her pencil before smiling amiably. She didn't exactly feel like sharing the grueling debrief she had to endure with numerous security departments. "This time though, it'll be different. I'd even go as far as to say that we're off to a pretty good start this time around."

"Can't argue that," Gordon chuckled. "When our officers arrested Crane last night, we seized a fair amount of drugs. From what the crime labs have found, they're all contaminated with the fear toxin."

Brigid's smile flickered reflexively before she stopped it. "That's…very convenient." She stopped herself before she said, what's the catch? It was all very neat, wasn't it? The Dr. Crane she knew wouldn't have been so sloppy. There was a slim chance that maybe they had just gotten that lucky- maybe.

"The exact circumstances of his arrest may not have been included in your report," Gordon admitted after a pause. Thumbing a folder on his desk, he continued, "We managed to catch him with another person of interest…here look this over,"

Brigid took the folder, opening it to find several lengthy police reports, one from Gordon himself. As she skimmed it over, she asked, "So, he was basically caught in the middle of a drug deal?"

Gordon sighed, "Basically. Our contacts told us that Crane spent the past year peddling street drugs and profiting by cutting it with whatever he had left of the Fear Toxin. Allegedly, it was small doses, but he'd been burning through whatever contacts he had leftover from Falcone. Once he lost one contact, he'd just move on to the next."

Brigid eyed him shrewdly, "Uh-huh. And I gather this 'contact' is also who assisted in incapacitating Crane until the police arrived? There's a gap in the timeline here from when police arrived on the scene to take statements, and the victim's TOD."

Returning her stare with a stalwart one of his own, Gordon frowned slightly, lowering his voice. "I suppose you would be right. Per the report, Crane and the other three vigilante's were subdued before we arrived on scene."

Sighing herself now, Brigid decided to let the matter go. They both knew the heroic, all knowing 'contact' he was referring to was Batman. Looking over the report again, she went over the notes concerning the death of the vigilante. The victim, Jason Nighly, had died of an apparent suicide. She took a deep breath to steady herself before she asked, "You're sure the victim was a suicide? I don't see any evidence here that he was poisoned with the fear toxin, or anything else."

She hated to ask, it felt like such a cold question. But Brigid couldn't let go of the suspicion that Crane might have murdered him. After all, from the report, she knew that Jason had also been there with his two friends, and it seemed highly unlikely he would decide to kill himself in front of spectators- especially seeing as he was dressed up like Batman. In the public eye, Batman was many things, but he certainly wasn't suicidal. Vigilantes, especially ones like these that did come from the typical office setting, generally don't display self-depreciating behaviors. Quite the opposite, they tend to believe in themselves a bit too much.

Gordon's mustache turned down as the frown deepened slightly. "The other two vigilantes that we arrested told us that they thought they heard Crane whispering something to the victim. They couldn't hear what Crane said to him. We couldn't pull it from the security footage either; but after that he jumped out of the building. Autopsy confirmed that aside from a few dog bites from some dogs that were at the scene, the injuries that resulted in his death all matched up. No one coerced him."

Brigid felt her mouth tighten. She'd have to ask Crane about it herself, later on. He had so far refused to cooperate with any of the officers. I don't care if he's already on trial, if he pushed that man to suicide, I'll nail him for that too, she told herself. Not a single person would be forgotten.

"Well, at least Crane's in custody now." Brigid said, "So, I've been wanting to ask… what's the deal with the Mayor and D.A's office blocking him from being tried federally?"

"It's about publicity, mainly. I don't really care where he's tried, as long as he's locked up for good. The Mayor and the new D.A want to make the trial as public as possible, it makes the Mayor look better," Gordon explained wearily, "Dent's in it for the political points too, but he's also eager to get the doctor in the hot seat. He's had a streak of wins against a lot of higher ranking mobsters this year."

Brigid forced herself to smile, though from the spark in Gordon's eyes she knew he could tell it wasn't genuine. "Well, that's the judicial system for you. I'm sure you have your fair share of complaints about it. I saw some newspaper clippings of his trials,"

Gordon chuckled at that, "Yeah. He's a real hotshot, used to be in internal affairs. But he's about the only person the Mayor actually trusts to get a conviction."

Brigid had a feeling that she was going to have trouble keeping Dent out of her hair once she started interrogating Crane, just from Gordon's tone. "Sounds like a real boy scout," she muttered, rubbing her hands together to warm them.

"Don't let me bias you, I shouldn't be so hard on him. His heart's in the right place," He said, casually waving away her remark.

Checking her watch, Brigid gathered together her notes, filing them away into her bag and standing up to shake Gordon's hand. "Thanks again for working with me. I've got to make my hotel's check in time, but I'll be in touch tomorrow."

Clasping her hand in his firmly, he smiled warmly. "It's good to see you again Brigid."

As she was leaving, he called after her, "Oh, I meant to mention Ms. Dawes' number is the same if you need to speak to her as well."

"Thanks!" Brigid called over her shoulder before the office door shut. Navigating her way through the station towards the exit, she called the taxi. Dent sounded to her, from all descriptions, like another Bugliosi, though she had to admit that Gordon was right. It didn't really matter what he was, or who he was like, or even if she liked him or not. As long as he got the conviction to stick, and they could make sure Crane's lawyers didn't secure an insanity plea.

The last time someone put Crane in Arkham was disastrous, and she'd be damned if she played into his hands again. She knew Gordon shared the same sentiment, which gave her some hope, even if the D.A was blocking her from being anything other than a spectator once they were in court. This time, she swore to herself, Jonathan wasn't going to play everyone else for the fool.

Later that evening in the hotel, the late night news flashed across the television. Idly, Brigid watched it, needing a break from comparing the reports from last year to the intel her supervisor had gathered about the League of Shadows.

"Earlier this afternoon, Gotham National Bank was robbed by several men in clown suits. No arrests have been made yet, and our sources in the Gotham P.D have informed us that while they can't share details of an ongoing case, only one hostage was killed in the robbery. Security footage from nearby stores, submitted to us by those in the area, show that the suspect backed a stolen school bus into the bank's entrance, before driving away."

Brigid watched, fully attentive now, as the screen changed to show a bus pulling off into busy traffic, effectively hiding itself among other buses.

"This incident is another in a long list of crimes rumored to be orchestrated by 'The Joker'. Gotham has not confirmed if this could be another vigilante, or if the individual is related at all to the Batman…"

Brigid turned off the t.v and sat back down in front of her notes. An unease had settled into her stomach after watching the report, keeping her up late into the night.

From his cell in the old part of Gotham's police station, far away from the drunk tank and other temporary prisoners housed in the newer cells, Crane listened to the guards outside talking amongst themselves while watching a small television. Straining his ears to hear, he heard the report of his arrest cut off as the anchor switched topics to discuss the bank robbery. Crane smiled to himself as he listened to the details. Everything was right on schedule.

His lawyer had come by earlier, or at least the man said he was his lawyer. Crane had no doubt that Maroni and the others had volunteered him for the job. They knew Dent well enough by now to know that he wouldn't miss this opportunity to try to get dirt on the mobs if he could. He had already tried talking to Falcone, but the old man was nothing more than a blubbering mess now. Jonathan had even heard rumors from some of his contacts that Dent had to be physically barred from the hospital Falcone was at; he had harassed the old man so much the staff was no longer willing to let him in.

It's that temper that will get him in trouble, he chuckled internally. Gotham might think that Dent is their newest messiah, but Jonathan knew better. He recognized who Dent was the way that two cold-blooded raptors recognize one another. He might have hidden his anger well on t.v, but apply the right stressors in the right situation and his heroic façade would crumble away.

Crane's lawyer had informed him earlier that afternoon that the District Attorney's office was pursuing this as a local case, falling within their jurisdiction. His lawyer didn't know yet that Brigid was here on behalf of the F.B.I, though doubtless he would find out in the morning. He wondered idly how bad her fall from grace was after she had left, smirking as he remembered shoving her off the building Fear Night. Given her own connections, he imagined that her superiors were at the best, displeased with her.

It could have been exactly that, that forced Brigid back here in the first place. The reasoning, he supposed, he would find out eventually. Unlike at Arkham, he knew who he was dealing with now.

Oh, what games we will play. Now that I've made my opening, what strategy will you choose?