How Much Do You Make a Month That You're Risking Your Life?

Just then, Gordon's walkie-talkie went off. "Commissioner Gordon, we have a situation!"

"What is it?"

"Two dead bodies were found in Crime Alley in the East End, a man and a woman. They seem to be a couple."

The three people in the car couldn't help but look at Bruce, then realized how rude it was and awkwardly turned their heads away.

"...Commissioner Gordon, the identities of that couple have been verified. They're people from the Falcone family!"

"Is it a gang vendetta?" Gordon frowned. "I'm heading to the scene right now."

The Falcone family was one of the largest criminal families in Gotham City. They were Italian-Americans, possessing quite a bit of the flair of the old Italian Mafia.

"I guess I won't go," Roland said. "I might still be able to run into a girl without a date and salvage a late Valentine's Day."

"Go ahead, and watch out for your safety on the way." Gordon unlocked the car door, letting Roland out by the side of the road.

The next day.

"A married couple in charge of usury for the Falcone family were shot and killed? The possibility of a double suicide out of love is not ruled out?" Roland read the newspaper. "A couple shooting each other in a double suicide, huh? What kind of nonsense is this? Newspapers these days are way too unreliable."

"Then don't read it," Jason said irritably.

"Forget it, I swiped it from someone's mailbox anyway, and it didn't cost anything. Might as well make do with it." Roland kept reading the newspaper. "Could they have been wiped out by a creditor over some financial dispute?"

"Chances are they were hit in a gang vendetta. The Falcone family has plenty of enemies in Gotham City," Jason said.

"Then who knows." Roland leaned back against the chair. "By the way, how much money did we make for Valentine's Day?"

" Counting the wages for my partners, we have sixteen hundred dollars left."

"That's not a small amount either." Roland rubbed his hands together. "Too bad there's only one Valentine's Day a year."

"We can figure out ways to make a bundle on other holidays too, like selling Easter eggs, or Halloween Jack-o'-lanterns and things like that," Jason thought for a moment and said.

"Wait, what did you just say?" Roland suddenly thought of something.

"Other holidays..."

"Do you think the ones who iced that couple from the Falcone family could be the Holiday Killer?"

"You've heard of that legend too?" Jason scratched his head. "Isn't that just an urban legend in Gotham City?"

"The Holiday Killer always operates on holidays, and every time after committing a crime, mementos related to that day's holiday are left behind at the crime scene. The targets are always members of Gotham City's crime syndicates, especially Mafia members, and the bullets used to kill the targets are fired from a .22 caliber gun."

Jason recited the Holiday Killer's profile. "Doesn't that sound totally made up? Where's the killer with that kind of obsessive-compulsive disorder?"

"Did you forget, Batman is also an urban legend in Gotham City," Roland reminded him. "Haven't you met him already?"

"That's true..." Jason nodded. "But the newspaper didn't mention any Valentine's Day-related mementos left behind at the crime scene, did it?"

"Maybe it was flowers or chocolate. Stuff like that showing up at a scene wouldn't raise any eyebrows at all," Roland said.

"So are you planning to moonlight as a detective?" Jason asked.

"Let's forget about that." Roland thought about it. If it were a well-known event, he could drop spoilers, but the problem was the Holiday Killer wasn't even all that famous of a villain.

Besides, he happened not to have read Batman: The Long Halloween, so he only vaguely remembered that three Holiday Killers seemed to show up in it, which left him wondering who on earth he was supposed to look for.

"Other matters can be handled by other people; I've got a lot on my plate, and I need to put my energy into making money," Roland said to Jason. "Go and trade all that thousand-plus dollars for food, and I'll keep treating those little partners of yours."

"Probably not today," Jason said. "They picked up a bunch of chocolate and cakes by the trash cans yesterday, and right now every single one of them is stuffed."

"...And they're not even afraid of eating something laced with extra ingredients," Roland muttered.

"You don't take us for sheltered young misses, do you? Can't we tell if something's been drugged?" Jason made it clear that they had been scraping by on the streets for so many years, they had seen this kind of trick more times than they could count, and it would be too embarrassing to fall for it.

"Alright, then we'll treat them in a couple of days," Roland said. "Aside from them, you can also call over a few homeless people who can't afford to eat."

"What's the deal with you? Suddenly overflowing with kindness?"

"I've always been pretty kind-hearted, alright?" Roland thought about it. "Right, buy cheaper groceries, try to call a few more people over, and let them eat a few more times."

"Bosses, big trouble!" One of Jason's underlings suddenly barged into the church.

"What happened?" Roland sat up.

"Boss, do you know? Two people from the Falcone family got iced!"

"I know," Roland nodded. "I just saw it in the paper, but what does that have to do with us?"

"That guy was Simone Falcone. He was the person in charge of the usury side of things for the Falcone family. After he kicked the bucket, a very important ledger on him vanished into thin air. Now the Falcone family is hunting for that ledger, and the whole of Gotham City has gone up in flames."

"Damn, are crime families that fierce? The whole city is in chaos?"

"Yeah, none of us dare to stick our heads out easily now, and a lot of business can't be done either."

"Here's what we'll do. From now on, you guys come over to my place to eat," Roland said. "Finding a place to sleep shouldn't be too hard to sort out, right?"

"Thanks, Boss. Hearing you say that takes a load off my mind."

Gotham City Hospital

Mad Hatter was undergoing treatment here. His entire body was covered in bruises, who knew how many bones had been broken, and he still had several tubes running into him.

Inside the ward, six heavily armed police officers stood guard over him, terrified that something unexpected might happen.

Just then, a suited Italian pushed open the door to the ward and walked in, gesturing toward Mad Hatter as he said, "Ciao, officers, I need to ask him a few questions. Could you do me a favor."

"He's a suspect in a major case, and private contact with him is not allowed. Go on... go ahead and ask, we won't disturb you." The lead police officer took one look at the line of gunmen standing behind the Italian and immediately changed his tune.

"That's right. How much do you make a month that you're risking your life?" The Italian pulled out a wad of cash, handed out a share to each of the cops present, and then walked straight up to Mad Hatter, pressing down on his wounds to jolt him awake.

"Hush, don't play dumb. Tell me, do you recognize the person in this photo?" The Italian placed a photograph in front of Mad Hatter.

"He is... Dormouse."

"So that's how it is." The Italian understood everything instantly, then asked, "The ledger he had on him, do you know where it is?"

Mad Hatter blankly shook his head.

"Give him a taste of the treatment." The Italian took a few steps back and spoke to his subordinates.