April 2016.
"But miss Fitzgerald, you can't do that. It was a mistake, granted, but it doesn't warrant this kind of punishment. Whatever happened to letting bygones be bygones?"
Grace Fitzgerald gave the teenager an unimpressed look.
"You were caught smoking on school grounds, when you were meant to be in English class, by the principal herself and three other members of staff." The raised eyebrow she gave him did little to intimidate the student. "What did you think was going to happen?"
"Yes, but there are bigger problems in the world than me smoking. I'm eighteen for the love of god."
"You are in your school uniform and a student of one of Gotham's most prestigious high schools. You can get into serious trouble if the public sees you and reports it. Be glad it was the school staff that saw you."
She was typing the incident into the system to have a record for the future.
"Still, three days suspension seems like a bit of an overreaction."
She moved to her filing cabinet while he was speaking. She found the file she was looking for and handed him the page.
"Please read the last section of your school behaviour contract." She sat back down.
He sighed dramatically and began to read.
"I, Frederick Sionis, agree to uphold Hamilton High School's code of conduct, regarding the smoking/consumption of cigarettes, cigars and vaping products, by not partaking in such activities on school grounds or in my school uniform. I am aware that the penalties for this will result in a letter home to my parents/guardians and three days suspension after review by my year head."
The young man finally dropped his playful smirk when he reread the final words.
"You signed that, and your father's signature is right beside it." She pointed at the other name. "And I know your father understands the importance of keeping your word after signing a contract."
"So, this means I can't do anything to get this removed from my permanent record?"
"At the moment we are still reviewing the incident. The principal and myself, as your year head, have discussed the possibility that we may allow you to do an extra credit report on the dangers of smoking. And if we feel that you have learned your lesson, we can discuss removing this from your record."
"Fair enough. Thank you, miss." He tilted his head in mock salute. "What do I do now?"
"You take this home to your father to explain why you're being sent home early and then the both of you will come in for a review in three days time."
"Alright. See ya, miss." He picked up his bag and stuffed the letter she gave him in his pocket.
She shook her head with a small smile. She never got over how interesting her job was sometimes.
When people heard she was a teacher, they often made some quip about how easy it must be, summer holidays, good health care and guaranteed work every week.
Others can't fathom the idea of being a teacher. The whole concept of dealing with teenagers and teaching the same subject matter over and over again sounded so mundane to them. But they never understood the variety of students they came across. And with them, a variety of problems.
Every day was different, and that was a blessing in itself.
It was the least boring job imaginable.
She finished typing the report and emailed a copy of the suspension letter to the principal, so there wouldn't be any confusion should Frederick 'accidently' lose the letter she gave him.
She made her way to the music room to take the final class of the day.
All too soon, the school bell rang. Students flew out of her class to beat the hallway traffic on the way to their lockers.
"Finally." She stretched and moved to collect her bag from her locker. She hightailed it to the staff car park so that she could leave before the rush of students descended upon the roads.
She was glad that she had changed into her runners before her last class. There was no way she could drive in her heels.
Her car was parked close to the exit.
Once she was sat at the wheel, her phone chimed with a text.
'Hey sis, can we meet near your apartment? We need to talk. - P'
She sighed in dejection but replied that she would see him in twenty minutes at the coffee shop. She needed her caffeine.
While she pulled out onto the main road, her mind went back to the last time she spoke with her brother.
She swears that if he asks to borrow money or worse, asks if he can crash at her place, she's going to flip.
Patrick's been different since Blackgate.
With all the good the Dent Act has done for Gotham; it was hard to brush over the effects it had when someone close to you suffered.
Patrick did some work for the Falcone family in his youth. When the mob's lackeys were being rounded up after the Joker terrorised Gotham eight years ago, Patrick was implicated in the mob's business as a hacker/contractor. He was given two years because he took a plea deal and now, he is trying to hold down a job. It was difficult to find steady work once employers saw his declaration of past criminal convictions. He was convinced his CV was thrown out before they could see his master's degree from Gotham City University.
She had no idea how he was keeping his head above water for the last five years.
To be honest, as long as he didn't go back to the mob, she could see him getting his life back.
Xxx
"Do you remember when you visited me in jail, just before I took the deal?" Patrick asked as she added sugar to her coffee.
"Yes, it was just before I got my first teaching job. You asked me to go back to college and study law." She joked.
"Well even you would have been better than that lawyer the city gave me." His eyes danced with bitterness.
"What's wrong, what brought this on?"
He leant in closer and looked behind him, almost as if he didn't want them to be overheard.
While he was playing 'secret agent' or whatever, she plugged her cable into the back of his laptop to charge as there weren't any wall sockets in the café.
She knew he wouldn't care, he never minded before.
"I found something on a job the other day."
"You have a job?" The excitement in her voice caused him to shush her.
"Not so loud. It's under the table work at this construction company. You know, 'cash in hand' type of thing."
"There's nothing wrong with that, I suppose. Are you worried about reporting your taxes?"
"No, nothing like that. I just overheard something the other day and couldn't get it out of my head."
"What is it?"
"Well, they're hiring out other off the books contractors, which isn't unusual, but they all seem to be working in and around the sewers."
"Okay?"
"The men they have working down there aren't the payroll workers. They were the suspect types. I saw guys like them all the time in Blackgate. I know when something dodgy is going down. So, I tracked one of the contractor's phones-"
"Patrick, are you insane? You can't spy on people, you'll get into trouble again. Why would you do this, it's none of your business what they're doing."
What was he thinking?
"No Grace, you don't get it. There was this guy, Gino, he was an orphan. Started around the same time as me. He told me that he didn't have a social security number and couldn't get a proper job anywhere else, so he took the construction job like I did." He took a deep breath before continuing. "One day this new guy came over to him and offered him a lot of money if he didn't mind getting a little dirty. The guy's name was Almani or something. He took Gino away and they didn't come back. The next time I saw him was when I scanned his phone." He turned his laptop towards Grace. "I think he was brought here. This is the last location where he was pinged." She looked at the screen.
"What am I looking at? You know I'm useless with computers."
"The guy who took Gino was pinged underground. In the sewers."
"How? I didn't think you could get a signal underground."
"I don't know, but there is something down there. It's hidden under mountains of code but there it is." He pointed at the blinking numbers and letters. "It's a hidden communication network."
She tried to take in all her brother was saying. Most of it went in one ear and out the other.
"While all this is fascinating, why do you look so spooked? Isn't it possible that the sewers have a Wi-Fi network? I'm sure sewer workers need to keep contact with people above ground."
"See, that's what I thought, until I heard they pulled the kid's body out from under the bridge last week."
Grace gasped quietly.
"Oh god. That poor boy."
"I know, he was only 18."
The same age as Frederick.
"Have you phoned the police?"
"There's no point. Daggett got rid of all records of him working here and threatened us all with the sack if we went to the police. And I don't think these guys would appreciate the cops sniffing around what they're doing."
"Why? What else is going on down there?"
He leaned in closer to Grace to whisper.
"I didn't just find their network. I found a bank routing number and it's from some account in the Cayman Islands. They tried to cover their tracks, but I found it easily enough. Grace, it had enough money to make me a slightly poorer version of Bruce Wayne."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that I can pay you back for all the years you supported me in Blackgate. And your student loans, I can clear them."
"You can clear them?"
"I took enough out of the account so I could survive and pay you back for everything."
She didn't like the sound of this. It was very similar to the time he promised he could pay her back for his car loan. Just before he was arrested.
"Who exactly did you take the money from?"
"I don't know, but they're not saints themselves from what I've seen."
"What if they find you?"
"They won't, I'm being incredibly careful after Blackgate. I'm in incognito mode and using a VPN. So, if they do see, they won't know it's me."
Grace had no idea what any of those words meant.
"Well, I don't agree with any of this, you could go to prison again."
"I'd rather go to prison than live another year begging you for money."
She gave him a pitying look at that.
"I appreciate the offer, but I'm fine, Patrick. I don't want any part of this."
"I get it. You aren't cut out for the underworld." He laughed lightly.
"Neither are you, Patrick." She spoke softly.
They sat in uncomfortable silence and finished their coffees.
The sun was starting to set, she needed to go home and begin her corrections.
Patrick went to the bathroom and Grace unplugged her phone.
She saw that there had been several notifications during their chat.
One was from the school and the others were from the local restaurants with specials for the week.
"I better get going, papers to correct, pizzas to order." She laughed as she gathered her bags.
"I'm might get another coffee. Take care, Grace. It's probably for the best if you keep this between us." She agreed. "I'll talk to you soon." They hugged goodbye and she left the café to head to her car.
It was getting dark, but the streetlights weren't on yet.
She held her bag closer to her body. Gotham may have changed since the Dent Act, but that didn't mean it was safe to walk around with your phone and wallet out.
She had already clocked two hulking figures stationed just outside the café doors. She tried not to make eye contact with them. Just keep your head down and get to your car.
Once she had the doors locked and ready to pull out did she notice the two men were gone.
She looked around, but they didn't seem to be anywhere.
That was strange, it was like they disappeared into thin air.
She looked back into the window of the café to see if her brother had left yet.
He had said he was going to get another coffee. She was surprised to see he wasn't in there anymore.
Maybe he got the coffee to go. She didn't pay much attention to it.
The car jolted as she ran over a pothole.
"Ah shite." She groaned and looked in the rear-view mirror and noticed it was a manhole cover that wasn't lying quite right.
She didn't care about that. As long as her car was okay that was all that mattered.