"Where's Gordon!?" Commissioner Loeb demanded of the room at large. Every detective on the floor was looking around shiftily as though they knew but didn't dare tell. Finally, Sergeant Ramirez spoke up.
"He's in evidence room, Sir." she said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder at the door.
Loeb scowled and marched past her while just about every cop in the room found a partner to exchange uncomfortable, significant glances with.
Meanwhile, down in evidence, Jim Gordon was well and truly busy with the one case that couldn't escape his mind. Maybe it was because he was there first hand. Maybe it was because of that kid. He didn't know. All he knew was that something about that 'accident' didn't sit right with him. Whenever he didn't have something more pressing, he went through the case and everything related, looking for...
something.
Suddenly, the door burst open.
“Gordon!” Loeb barked at him as Jim turned to face this rather unceremonious new arrival. Gordon was old-fashioned about places like this. The evidence room was a sacred place. They didn't need people barging in and disrespecting it. But then, he didn't really have the pull to do anything about it. Loeb was so far over his head, it was ridiculous.
“Commissioner?” Jim said, eyebrow raised. “How can I help you?”
“I thought I told you to drop the case of those circus people!” Loeb growled.
“You did, Sir.” Jim nodded with a sigh.
“Then why am I holding a request to maintain the case information here in evidence holding?” Loeb demanded, brandishing a short stack of paperwork. “This was an accident, Lieutenant!”
“I know, Sir.” Jim nodded again. “But something with it just doesn't sit right with me. I was there. I saw it. Hell, my kids were with me! Something tells me this wasn't an accident. And Haly? You can't tell me he isn't dirty. Or at least he doesn't have dirt on his door step. You know Falcone doesn't let anyone do business around here without his approval. I believe this bears more investigation, Sir.”
“Well, I don't.” Loeb said flatly, slapping the stack of paperwork on a nearby shelf and not so much as flinching when it cascaded to the floor. “This was an accident. That's the end of it. If you need closure, I'll give it to you. Child Protective Services needs an escort. Their claiming custody of the Grayson kid. You'll be part of that escort. We clear?”
“Sir, I--...”
“ARE. WE. CLEAR?” Loeb insisted.
“...” Jim's jaw clenched almost painfully. “Yes,
Sir.”
~~~~~
Knock, knock, knock!“Mr. Haly?” George Darper, the lead CPS worker said, rapping sharply on the door of Haly's car. “Mr. Haly? We aren't going to go away just because you ignore us. We know you're in there!”
Jim stood behind the CPS worker and his assistant, his hands in his jacket pockets. A pair of patrolmen flanked him as he waited. He wasn't at all happy about this. Kid looses his real family and now the city wanted to take what family he had left just because the law can't recognize them as his kin. It was ridiculous. And to top it all off, he couldn't even offer the kid justice. This was what he called a travesty.
“What are you people doing here?!”
The voice from behind made all five of them look around. Mr. Haly, Mrs. Vestri, and two other members of the adult circus troupe were approaching from the big top. When they'd spotted the officers and who they were escorting, they'd stopped. There were several children on their heels.
“Mr. Haly, I presume?” Mr. Darper said, walking around Jim and his patrolmen. “My name is George Draper. I'm with the Office of Child Protective Services. We're here for Richard Grayson. Can you please tell us where he is.”
“No.” Mr. Haly said flatly.
“Mr. Haly. Please. We're just trying to help.” Ms. Barnes, Mr. Darper's assistant said. “Richard needs a level of care and attention that something like a circus just can't offer--...”
“With all due respect, lady, you don't have a clue what kind of care we can provide!” Mrs. Vestri said, her hands on her hips. “He's as good as our son. We'll take care of him.”
“Mr. Haly. The City of Gotham does not consider a circus to be a suitable environment for a child. Without his parents to care for him, the last vestige of legal allowance for him to remain here has dried up.”
“Oh. And I suppose the city considers its orphanages and group homes to be suitable environments?” Mr. Haly said. “I've seen those places. They're hell holes.
Dogs shouldn't be brought up in places like that.”
“We have to take him.” Mr. Draper insisted.
“You'll
have to go through us.” Mr. Doggard, the strong man said, crossing his arms.
“Yeah!” Raymond and Raya said, crossing their eyes.
Jim didn't like this one bit, but he had no choice. Duty was duty. He was beholden to the commands of his superiors. He looked around. There was a small someone peeking around the edge of one of the cars down the train. He looked scared to show himself. Jim would have bet every cent he had he knew who that was...
“Stay here. Make sure they don't kill each other.” he whispered to one of the patrolmen, who nodded.
The CPS officers and the circus personnel kept arguing back and forth as he turned and quietly slipped away unnoticed. He slipped between the cars and once he was on the opposite side of the train, he continued down along the cars until he found the two whose divide was acting as the boy's hiding place. He peeked around the corner.
“Richard?” he said. He didn't bother trying to sneak up on the kid entirely. He figured if the kid wanted to run, he'd have done it the moment he saw the officers there. But he didn't. That either meant he didn't want to run or didn't have anywhere to run to. Judging by his situation... Jim guessed it was a little of both. Regardless, the boy looked around at the sound of his voice sharply.
“Don't be afraid.” Jim said. “My name is Jim. I'm a policeman.”
The boy just stared at him. There was a look in his blue eyes that Jim couldn't quite place. It wasn't distrust. It wasn't even fear or surprise. But whatever it was, it made Jim feel as though this boy had lost the will to care about anything. It was the sort of look he'd seen in the eyes of many people who'd made their own deaths in the past. To see it in someone so young... it scared him.
“You
are Richard, right?” Jim said. It wasn't a question. He knew this was him. He just wanted to see if he could coax any sort of answer out of him. Still, the kid said nothing. “Come here, son. Let's go talk to the others.”
The boy continued to stare at him. And just when Jim doubted he'd say a word, to his great surprise, the kid did just that. And only that.
“Bun.”Richard walked out from his hiding place and waited for Jim to follow him. A few dozen yards away, the two CPS workers, the carnies, and two patrolmen saw Richard step out and then Gordon afterward. As the detective stepped into view, he took Richard by the hand and the two of them headed toward the assembled individuals watching them.
“Richard!” called Mrs. Vestri. “Get away from him!”
“You found him!” Mr. Darper beamed, walking toward them.
“You stay away from him!” Mr. Haly barked. “Richy, come here!”
“Be quiet! All of you!” Jim barked back. “Haly. You and yours want to keep him, but you can't. What kind of life would he have here? What is he, going to join another trapeze act?”
Mr. Haly and the other performers exchanged a look. It was clear they were all still hurting from the loss of their friends. It was that which was governing them in their refusal to let Richard go. There was nothing good about this situation. Nothing good at all. And though Jim hated it to his core, he had no choice but to do everything in his power to make them all see reason.
“One way or another,” he continued, his tone back to normal, looking between them. “The city is taking him. Now you might be able to fight off the five of us, but what's that going to change? You'll make a bad situation worse and in the end, they'll just send more people down here and take him anyway. I'm sorry. But... the decision's been made. Patrolman...”
He nodded at the closest officer who nodded back and headed to the police car nearby, getting in the driver's side. The group of performers stood there, lost for what to do. They didn't want to let them take Richard, but... Lieutenant Gordon was right. The decision had been made. How were they to fight it? No one was going to be overly willing to let any of them adopt him. If their surrogate care wasn't enough without legal guardianship, how were they to acquire it?
Jim walked Richard over to the police car and invited him into the back seat.
“We'll take him.” Mr. Draper said, cutting in. “We have a car.”
“No you won't.” Jim said. “I have a few questions I'd like to ask him. I'll bring him by the center later today. Besides... I don't like you.”
“But--” Draper half laughed, as though he thought it a joke. But Gordon cut in.
“This isn't a joke, Draper. I don't like you and Haly was right. The group home is a hell hole. Compared to that place, the precinct is practically heaven on earth. Just because the law says that's a better place for a child than a place like this, a place where he'll receive some form of love and care doesn't mean it's just. I'm going to give him a few more hours without that. It's a small favor from me to someone who's lost everything. If you got a problem with it, you can call the commissioner. I'm sure he'll be happy to kick me around for it.”
He ducked into the back seat of the squad car and closed the door without another word, leaving Draper and Barnes standing there, looking around in confusion. The other officer jumped in the front seat of the car and then they were off. Some twenty wordless minutes later, they arrived at the MCU Headquarters.
“I'll take him from here, boys.” Jim said, getting out of the car and inviting Richard to follow, which he did obediently. Jim showed him up through the building and to his office, or rather his cubicle. Loeb had his office turned into a briefing room three months ago. He was still pissed about the fact that the MCU had been mysteriously unable to identify any suspects in the ongoing search for the Batman despite the fact that every rumor indicated that the MCU (or members of it) were in league with him, whoever he was. But it hardly mattered. He invited Richard into a seat and sat himself down a moment later. There were more than a few curious glances over the low cubicle wall at him.
“Richard, mind if I ask you a few questions?” he said, shifting a few papers about ten minutes later. The awkward silence made him uncomfortable. He wanted to fill it with something worth while. Just because the commissioner put the kibosh on an investigation didn't mean the Justice Department or the District Attorney's Office would ignore solid evidence in a closed case. So he'd probably be demoted. Big deal. If it meant he'd be able to figure out what really happened, it was worth it.
Richard said nothing, however.
“Do you recognize this man?” Jim said anyway, showing Richard a picture. The large man in the image was just about as unpleasant and sleazy as it was possible for a human being to look. “His name is Tony Zucco. Do you know that name?”
That struck a chord. Jim could tell. Richard hadn't been looking at the picture at all until the name was mentioned. Now he couldn't pry his eyes away from it. He was staring at the picture as though his life depended on it.
“You do, don't you?” Jim pressed. “You know that name.”
Not a word.
“Listen.” Jim said, leaning toward him. “Zucco works for a very evil man. Now, we know he's been a bag man for this guy for a very long time, pressuring people all over the city for Mr. Evil. I think he was behind what happened to your parents, Richard. I know it hurts, but if you can remember anything, anything at all that could implicate Zucco, it could go a long way to hurting his entire organization. We could put them behind bars where they'd never be able to do what they did to your parents again.”
Richard just continued to stare at the picture. And then, he began to talk.
“El e omul care vorbea la Mister Haly. El a vrut bani.” he said.
“El a spus că lucrează pentru Carmine Falcone.”“Falcone!” Jim said. He'd been frustrated with his lack of understanding until Falcone's name was mentioned. “What about Falcone?”
“Am spus deja. El a vrut bani de la Mister Haly.”Jim sighed.
“Need help, boss?”
He looked around. Sergeant Voss was standing there.
“You look a little lost.”
“He's speaking some other language.” Jim said. “I don't understand.”
“It's Romanian.” Voss nodded. At a look of surprise from Gordon, he explained. “My grandmother was Romanian. I spent a lot of time at her place. She lived next door. My mother hated it.”
“Right.” Jim nodded. “Can you tell me what he's saying?”
“He says Zucco talked to Mr. Haly. Wanted money. Said Zucco told them he worked for Falcone. The rest of it was just him repeating himself.”
“I see.” Jim looked back around at Richard. “Can you tell me anything else?”
”Mister Haly a refuzat să-i dea nimic,” Richard said, still staring at the picture mostly, though shooting Jim half a glance every now and then.
”Pentru că el nu a vrut să moară de foame artiștilor interpreți sau executanți. Deci, Zucco a plecat și a spus că va fi din nou în câteva zile pentru a vedea dacă sa răzgândit.”“Okay, what was all that?” Jim asked, looking around at Voss.
“Uh... he says Mr. Haly refused to give Zucco anything.” Voss explained, his voice sounding almost uncomfortable. “I guess Haly thought the amount Zucco wanted would cause the performers to starve. He said Zucco left and told Haly he'd be back once he had time to think over his options.”
“Damn.” Jim swore before he could stop himself. He cast Richard a quick glance and a small 'Sorry' before explaining his outburst. “It's all hear-say. We can't use any of it as evidence.”
“Isn't that how these mobsters always work, though?” Voss mused. “They never admit to anything.”
”So... you can't solve it.”The small voice caught both Jim and Voss by surprise. By the time Gordon looked around, Richard had affixed him with a betrayed sort of look.
“You speak English?” Jim said, surprised and frustrated at once.
”Obviously.” Richard said in a cutting tone.
”It's just hear-say, so you can't use it? What kind of justice is that?”“Broken justice.” Jim said after a moment's silence.
”I don't have anything else. Why don't you just send me to the hell hole and I'll get started on what's left of my life.”Jim was so stunned that these words had come out of a child's mouth that he didn't immediately respond. However, he'd no sooner opened his mouth to finally do so when the nearby doors burst open and Loeb accompanied by a number of CPS workers (Darper and Barnes included) entered. They bee-lined for Jim.
“Gordon!” Loeb barked. “Where is he?”
“Right here, Commissioner.” Jim answered, standing. “I was asking him a few questions.”
“Yeah, well, we'll be having a conversation about your apparent inability to comprehend simple orders later. For now, he's going with them.” Loeb said, gesturing at Darper and the others. “Let's go, people.”
Ms. Barnes stepped forward quickly. Jim scowled, albeit covertly. These Child Protective Services types. They didn't have a clue. They were under the impression that a kind face and a few honeyed words draped over horrendously ill-informed good intentions was enough to protect the most unfortunate of the city's children. That was just plain wrong. People like Barnes didn't have a clue what it was like to be a Richard Grayson. How in the hell were they supposed to help? In all his time dealing with stuff like this, with the orphans left over in the wake of every damned drug war, every king pin power struggle, Jim had only ever seen one kid's life turn out at all well in this sort of situation. And that was assuming you figured dressing up in a bat costume and doling out vigilante justice day in and day out a happy ending.
“Well, Richy?” Ms. Barnes said, sinking down and positioning herself at eye level with Richard where he sat. “Why don't you come with me?”
Richard didn't put up so much as a strong resistance. He stood from his seat and walked with Ms. Barnes until they met up with the rest, but stopped. He looked over his shoulder at Gordon.
”Eu nu sunt fiul tău.” he said flatly. Then he turned and walked away with the CPS workers, through the doors and out of sight. Loeb lingered just long enough to shoot Gordon another sharp glance and then he too left. Once they were gone, he turned to Voss for the translation.
“He said: 'I'm not your son.' Whatever that means.”
Jim nodded slowly as Voss turned and walked away, shaking his head. As Jim resumed his seat, he thought back to those moments between the train cars not two hours before.
“You are Richard, right? Come here, son. Let's go talk to the others.”Now, solving the murder wasn't as appealing as it had been. Now, Jim had something better to do. And as he sat there, staring at the picture of Tony Zucco on his desk, he thought he knew just how to do it. But it wasn't going to be easy...
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