#21: First Impressions (Burchette / Hodges)

Commissioner James Gordon walked into his office feeling like a man twice his age. The soldiers were gone, out of his city, and for that he should have been happier then he was. But as was typical in his life these days, just about the time the sun would start to come out, more clouds would appear.

This morning’s clouds were in the shape of a summons and complaint he had received from his estranged wife. She was filing for divorce, and for soul custody of little Jim. He tossed the papers on the desk with the rest of the mail and slumped in his chair. He wanted to call her, but knew better. He had to wait until he was calmer, wait until she was calmer. He also didn’t want to admit yet that this was probably the best thing for them… well… for her and their son, at least.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. He shoved the papers into his desk. “Come in.”

The door opened and Sarah came in, followed by a young woman who seemed to be of Spanish or Mexican descent. Gordon watched her eyes as she walked into the room. They went around the office quickly, and he could tell that she was taking everything in as quickly as she could. He liked that, and was instantly impressed.

“Commissioner, this is Renee Montoya. She just transferred here from Hub City. Thought you might want to meet her before she gets assigned to the MCU.”

Jim stood up and shook her hand. It was a very firm grip, another first impression that he liked. “I’ve read your file, Ms. Montoya, and it’s impressive. You’ve got a terrific track record and the Major Crime Unit needs a detective like you.”
“Happy to be here, Commissioner,” she replied cautiously. “Although I have to admit that coming to Gotham is a real experience.”

“Well, Hub City isn’t exactly Metropolis,” Jim replied with a wry grin.

She relaxed a bit and chuckled, “That is true, but at the same time, we don’t have psycho killers with green hair and giant reptiles that walk upright and live in the sewer, either.”

“Yeah, we’re special that way. Anyway, welcome aboard, Ms. Montoya. Sarah, I want Montoya here to be partnered with the best tec we have.”

She nodded, “Crispus Allen needs a partner, and they would probably be perfect together.”

“Excellent choice. Good luck Renee,” he said, shaking her hand again and watched the two of them leave.

He sat back down in his chair and leaned forward, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. He wondered if his daughter, Barbara, was up yet. There was a three hour time difference between Gotham and Vegas, which would make it close to seven in the morning out there. He decided against it, no need for her to know about any of this yet, anyway.

“What do you suggest we do with him, Sir?” Alfred asked.

By his butler’s tone, Bruce could tell that even Alfred was at a loss for words, or deeds. Although he wouldn’t consider this the worst case scenario, this was in his top three. He was still trying to deal with the fact that Vicki knew, let alone this teenage neighbor that he knew nothing about.

“At this point, I don’t see that we have much of a choice. I’ve got to have time to look into his and his families past. There’s been so much going on, I’ve neglected to investigate our new neighbors.”

Renee Montoya walked through the offices of Gotham City’s Major Crime Unit, amazed at the organized chaos that was everywhere. She was led to the back of the room where she saw a young African American man talking to a more middle aged gentleman.

They stopped as her and Sarah arrived.

“Crispus Allen, this is your new partner, Renee Montoya. She just transferred here from Hub City. She’s got the best credentials I’ve seen in a detective since… well… you. Make her feel welcomed and show her the ropes, will ya. Oh, and this guy here is Captain David Cornwell. He’s the first shift Commander and your immediate superior.’

Montoya shook both of their hands, Crispus’ was firm and steady, but Cornwell’s was much tighter, squeezing harder then he needed to. He stared into her eyes, and she knew then that he was not going to be the most pleasant man to get along with. She tightened her grip just as hard and they let it linger there, before wisdom told Renee to be the first to release.

“You’re just in time,” Cornwell said to her. “I was just sending your partner down to 12th and Main. Hooker was found in her apartment several minutes ago, throat was slashed, the call just came in. Both of you get down there now.”

Crispus gave Renee a weak smile. “Welcome to Gotham. Hope you got plenty of rest on your way here, ‘cause you won’t be sleeping much anymore.”

“Sleep is overrated anyway,” Renee said with a shrug as Crispus grabbed his hat and the two of them headed out.

Bruce Wayne woke from one of the most fitful sleeps he could ever remember having. He must have been even more exhausted then he realized.

He showered quickly and then made his way downstairs, and into the secret entrance to his home. As he walked down the steps he saw Alfred sitting at one of the computer stations, wearing a set of headphones and sipping on some tea. He glanced up to see his boss staring down at him.

“The microphone that you planted on young Drake’s belt buckle is working perfectly, Sir. Since he has been home he has called two friends, a Stephanie and a Johnny. I’m assuming it’s the same Johnny that was able to slide into second base with Katie Beacher. He did not say one word to either of them, however. He then proceeded to do some rather difficult Calculus questions, from what he was muttering, and then had dinner with his father. It appears that his father works quite a bit. Normal conversation between father and son; there is obviously a lot of love there. Now he’s back in his room. Not sure what he’s doing, but the music he is playing sounds like someone is trying to drown a cat.”

“Thanks, Alfred. Great analysis, by the way, you may have missed your calling. You should have become a psychiatrist.”

Alfred removed himself from the chair, “In this place, I wear many hats.”

“Anything on the police scanners?”

“The usual, I suppose. Several robberies and one murder; a prostitute. Detectives Allen and Montoya have been assigned to that case.”

“Montoya?” Bruce asked.

“She’s just been transferred in from Hub City. This is her first case here, from what I gather.”

“Thank you again, Alfred. I’m going to spend some time looking into the Drake’s and then I’ll be going out on my nightly patrol as soon as the sun falls.”

“Very good sir, I shall bring you down nourishment before you leave.”

Bruce said nothing more as he put on the headphones and cringed at the music, but then turned to one of his many screens and began to type in the name Timothy Drake. It was time to find out exactly what his neighbors were all about.

“Her street name was Misty Day, but her real name is Karen Walker. She was born in Montgomery, Alabama and ran away from home when she was seventeen. She lived in Chicago for a year, then moved to Detroit, and finally here to Gotham. She had several prior convictions for prostitution and drug possession in all three cities.” Montoya said as she sat down at her new desk across from her partner.

Crispus looked the file over. “You’re quick, I like that.”

Renee didn’t respond to the compliment, “Preliminary reports from the M.E. is that she was killed by a slash across the throat, but she won’t say anything official until she’s finished with her exam. She said she’d call us as soon as she was finished.”

Detective Allen began flipping through the crime photos that had been taken early in the day. “There was no forced entry, which means Walker either knew her killer, or was stupid and left the door unlocked.”

“If she lived in that neighborhood, she wasn’t stupid enough to keep the door unlocked,” Montoya mused as she too scanned the pictures. She stared at one in particular, and then handed it back to her partner. “Notice the bruise marks around the front of the neck? My guess is that she was facing her attacker when they slit her throat, probably holding her down.”

“Or against the wall,” Allen chimed in as his desk phone rang. He picked it up and talked into it quietly for several moments and then hung up, smiling sheepishly. “The wife, wondering when I’m going to be home.”

“Well our shift ended over an hour ago. Why don’t you head home to them and I’ll finish up the paperwork. In the morning we can go back to the crime scene and talk with the neighbors again.”

Crispus nodded, “Alright, but don’t stay too late. The night-shift will be here soon and they’re a whole different breed of people. You got any family?” He asked suddenly as he was putting on his coat.

She stared at the pictures, never looking up. “My parents live here in the city, that’s it.”

Crispus Allen was a good detective. The finality in her voice told him that she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He said goodnight and headed out the door. His new partner was going to take a little getting used to.

After her partner had left, Renee kept staring at the picture of the woman’s body, the open gash in her throat, the clutter around the corpse. That’s when she saw it. How could they have missed it the first time they went through the apartment. It was a picture that was lying on the ground next to her, the glass shattered. In the picture were Karen Walker and a woman with an uncanny resemblance to her, probably her mother by the look of it. The picture was in Robinson Park and behind the two ladies was a man who was blurred, as if trying to get out of the picture. His head was ducked low and his overcoat was pulled up around his head.

She got up and headed back to the apartment.

Harvey Dent had made it to the Iceberg Lounge without any problems and got in the private elevator that went to the penthouse. He had considered taking some of his men with him, but the coin had told him not to, and so far, the coin had not failed him at all.

The elevator door opened to a very luxurious apartment, done tastefully in black and whites. The furniture was a metal and glass. He noticed a very expensive chandelier hanging from the ceiling as he stepped down into the sunken living room.

“Do you like it?” Came the voice of Oswald Cobblepot as he entered from a darkened hallway. “I had it imported from France. It did not come cheap, and is an heirloom of Marie Antoinette, herself. I’m very proud of it.”

“Of course you are,” Two-Face said, his good eye narrowing with suspicion. “I’m here. Now would you care to tell me why?”

“I see your accident has scarred your manners as well,” Penguin replied sarcastically. “Very well, business first, then. Allow me to introduce the third member to our little gathering. We’ve had an on again, off again, partnership for some time now.”

The short man motioned to the same hallway and Dent watched as the man he knew as Black Mask walked out. He was shocked, but refused to allow it to show.

“Rumor has it that you were dead.”

A hollow voice from inside the skull shaped mask replied. “Yes, that has helped me immensely while I have continued to shape my Empire.”

“What Empire,” Dent scoffed.
“Oh, I’ve been growing quite the little business in the last few months, as has Mr. Cobblepot here, thanks to the untimely death of Rupert Thorne.”

“Whatever,” Harvey replied impatiently. “If I’m here ‘cause you want me to be one of your lackey’s, you’ve got another thing coming. I’m a boss man, not a thug.”

“Of course, Mr. Dent,” cooed Black Mask. “We all are. However, you seem to be a big fish with no pond to call your own. We would like to help you with that.”

“Go on.”

“As Oswald’s letter stated, it is time for changes in Gotham, and the old ways are almost gone. It’s time for this city to be run by younger and smarter men. You, just like the two of us, could be one of those men: A ruler of his own kingdom.”

“So far, so good, but I’m still not sure what your getting at. Just come out with it, damn it.”

“There are still two obstacles in our way,” Penguin replied quickly so not to have the two men begin any kind of argument. “Once they are eliminated, we can take control of everything that is theirs.”

“Who?”

“The first one would be your ex-father-in-law, Boss Maroni. Even though he’s in jail, he still maintains his power. He must be eliminated.”

“I see no problem with that at all,” Two-Face said with an evil grin. “And the other?”

Black Mask stepped down to enter the circle with the other two men. “Carmine Falcone. Once he is removed, we can take our rightful places, divided evenly of course, and rule this city like those old idiots could have never imagined.”

Harvey Dent considered all of this for a moment and then, as the other two expected, pulled out his coin and flipped it into the air. When it came down they waited as he stared at it for a moment.

“Looks like you two have yourself a partner,” he chuckled menacingly.