Constantine slowly raised his hands. Even though he knew that what was pressed against his back was only the tip of an umbrella, he still did not move.
He tilted his head up toward the ceiling, trying to lean farther back in that position to see the person behind him. Then the umbrella smacked his shoulder. Constantine cried out in pain before turning around to look at Schiller.
His gaze was somewhat puzzled, as though he did not understand why Schiller had withdrawn the umbrella. As Schiller tidied it up, he said, "Batman and Gordon won't find this place anytime soon. Since there's no one else here, we can stop pretending."
"Tell me, what exactly did you come to Gotham for?"
Before Constantine could speak, Schiller took a small pill bottle from his pocket and tossed it to him. Constantine caught it and held it before his eyes, studying the ingredient list closely. After only one glance, he smiled and said, "This is good stuff. Looks like we're kindred spirits..."
As he spoke, he unscrewed the cap and eagerly poured several pills into his mouth. Schiller walked toward the table in the basement and said, "You don't need to hide the pills in your sleeve. There's no poison in them, just ordinary painkillers."
The two arrived beside the pool table. Constantine put on a relaxed front and said, "I just thought our next conversation wouldn't be suitable while I was high on pills."
"Then give them back. They're good stuff, and more importantly..." Schiller looked Constantine over with meaningful intent. "...they work fast for pain."
Whether he took them or not, Constantine smoothly slipped the little pill bottle into the inner pocket of his trench coat and held it tightly.
"Since you've been so generous, I guess I have no