Donation

The pen scratched across the paper, leaving behind a name in elegant cursive.

Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot.

Cobblepot and Bob stood in the lobby of the East End Police Department, holding up the donation agreement together for the reporters and officers present to see. Amid the nonstop clicks and flashes of cameras, enthusiastic applause rose around them.

"Mr. Cobblepot, on behalf of every officer at the East End Police Department and the citizens of Gotham City, thank you for your donation and contribution in support of our fight against crime."

Bob extended his hand and gave Cobblepot a firm handshake. Cobblepot still wore that same humble, bashful expression, responding with careful deference. Only after the ceremony ended and the crowd slowly dispersed did he casually drift over to Li Jie and ask in a low voice:

"Officer, are you satisfied?"

A shadow passed over his brow, then vanished in an instant. The car had originally belonged to the husband of a prominent member of Congress in Washington, D.C., who had lost it the year before. If Li Jie had accepted it, word would have casually reached that politician's ears after he had driven it for two or three months. Add the camera Cobblepot had secretly arranged to capture him accepting the check, a complaint to Internal Affairs, and an examination of his bank transactions, and that series of moves would have been enough to get this presumptuous little cop kicked off the force.

After that...

What he had not expected was that this penniless fellow would remain completely clearheaded in the face of such a fortune and immediately demand that he donate the whole lot to the precinct instead. Looking at Chief Bob's fat face, beaming from ear to ear, Cobblepot felt something inside him twist again and again.

But now was not the time to turn hostile. At the very least, he had to settle this whole affair first. Standing beside Li Jie, he bowed slightly.

"Officer, if you're satisfied, then..."

"No problem, Mr. Cobblepot." Li Jie smiled at him and stood up. "I'll walk you out."

The two slowly made their way to the precinct entrance. Li Jie raised one finger and said quietly, "One question, Mr. Cobblepot. Answer one more question, and we're square."

Cobblepot nodded with a smile. "Please ask, officer."

"That day... where did you take the witness out of the convoy?" Li Jie frowned in thought. "I know it was in the Commercial District, but I was watching the convoy almost the entire time."

"In the Commercial District. Do you remember a delivery truck... on one of the streets?" Cobblepot sounded a little pleased with himself. "When you turned the corner up ahead, I got out with Cuevas... and Gabe, then hid in the delivery truck."

"In those ten or fifteen seconds? Were those men you'd planted in advance?"

"No, it was simply a spur-of-the-moment idea." Cobblepot shook his head lightly. "Any advance arrangement carries the risk of a leak. But if I act on a sudden inspiration?"

That flattering yet conceited smile appeared on his face again. "No one could have guessed. Besides, stopping, getting out, and getting into the other vehicle only took ten or fifteen seconds. You'd already rounded the corner ahead, and the people tailing us hadn't caught up yet. The driver was one of my men. He would keep an eye on Hargrove and catch up with you. After that, we subdued the delivery truck's driver and drove it to Lord Falcone's Manor."

"Hmm..." Li Jie slowly nodded as he thought it over. "But that plan was extremely risky."

"Yes, it certainly was, but everything carries a risk," Cobblepot said with a smile. "Your route might have been even riskier. After all, Fish Mooney's madness cannot be underestimated, and Lord Falcone's wishes take priority over everything."

"That's true. But... why were you so certain Fish Mooney would dare openly defy Lord Falcone?"

"Officer," Cobblepot said, his smile growing warmer and happier, "that's a second question."

"Hmm! Fair point." Li Jie silently watched the vehicles coming and going in the parking lot for a while, then looked at Cobblepot again. "Honestly, Mr. Cobblepot, even though you used the entire squad as bait, if I were you, I probably would have done the same to achieve my objective. You're a cold, shameless bastard, but you really are... very clever."

"Thank you. I'll take that as a compliment." Cobblepot smiled and held out his hand. "Lord Falcone invites you to visit his Manor at two this Thursday afternoon."

His hand remained suspended in the air, his smile seemingly as warm as ever. Li Jie stared at it for a long moment before slowly extending his own.

Their hands touched like two pieces of ice rubbing against each other.

"As you wish. I'll be there on time."

*

Thursday afternoon...

That meant he had two days left.

He sat at his desk and thought for a while, then jumped up and ran to the Chief's office.

This time, Bob was not busy hiding money. Having just seen the reporters off, he seemed to be in a good mood. He had lit a cigarette and was reclining in his chair, apparently savoring the moment. When Li Jie came in, he pointed at the chair opposite him.

"I'll sit in a minute, boss. I need a favor." Li Jie leaned closer. "Have logistics fix up the G20 for me."

"Huh? Didn't you say you weren't going to repair it? Besides, the damage report says it really isn't worth fixing." Bob looked a little surprised. "You're not seriously planning to fix it up and sell it for a hundred or two hundred bucks, are you?"

"No, it doesn't have to be fully repaired. It just needs to barely run. The worse it looks, the better." Li Jie paused. "The Roman told me to meet him at his Manor next Thursday."

"But you don't need to... hmm, taking your old patrol car wouldn't be appropriate, but I can lend you an old car."

"No." Li Jie shook his head. "If I go in a wreck, maybe I can plead poverty and come away with something."

"Aha?" Bob's eyes immediately lit up. "Attaboy. No problem, I'll call the logistics and Equipment Division right now. Also..." He picked up the internal phone, exchanged a few words with logistics, then hung up. "Here's some good news. The proposal to establish a trial rapid-response counterterrorism squad at the Eastern District Precinct has been submitted. We should hear back soon. Also, the precinct will hold assessments next month, and I'll get you a Detective position... though you know it doesn't carry much real authority. And... I can only give you the title for now. You'll still have to handle patrol duties."

Detective was not a mandatory step on an officer's promotion ladder. It was more like a professional designation, offering an additional specialist allowance based on assignment and overtime hours.

FBI agents, of course, were a different matter.

"What's going on here? What about my allowance? Didn't you say homicide was short-staffed?"

In truth, this suited him perfectly. He only wanted to earn a little more money in peace, not become a Detective. After all, in Gotham City, a day with only seven or eight murders already counted as a blessing from the ancestors. If he got transferred to homicide or somewhere similar, he might become so busy he would not even have time to sleep.

But he absolutely could not say that himself. How else would he bargain?

"You'll get it, you'll get it." Bob let out a long sigh. "If we can't solve a murder, we can ask Central Headquarters for support, or just drag it out until everyone forgets about it. Failing that, we can grab some unlucky bastard to take the fall. But people can tell at a glance whether the Eastern District Precinct's patrol cars are on the streets. Now that rookie Wilson's in the hospital too. If you transfer as well..."

"Who the fuck am I supposed to rely on? Look at those idiots out there!" At that, he pointed at the blinds, veins suddenly bulging on his forehead. "That dumbass Ethan actually let those whores from the Red Cardinal Bar jerk him off in the car while he was on patrol, and a fucking reporter passing by caught it on camera."

"Fuck, the government should really purge everyone with an IQ below twenty. Speaking of which..." He looked up at Li Jie. "Do you have a way to fix this?"

"What am I supposed to do? I wasn't the one getting jerked off!" Li Jie felt his head explode at the question. "I'm not a wish-granting machine."

"Hey, kid! If you can fix this, I'll fast-track your application for a transport vehicle! A new one! All fuel, repair, and modification costs reimbursed." Bob flashed a sleazy grin. "How about it? I only have one condition: give City Hall a reasonable explanation."

"Not interested. Besides, I don't pay for the patrol car's gas out of my own pocket anyway." Li Jie thought for a moment. "Change his personnel file. Say he was a temp all along, and that the precinct fired him immediately after discovering his misconduct to make an example of him. It demonstrates the precinct's admirable willingness to correct its mistakes and take decisive action."

"Wow! Wow! Where do you get all these brilliant ideas?"

Where do I get my ideas? Isn't dumping the blame on a temp standard procedure?

Seeing Bob spread his arms and start lunging over as if to kiss him, Li Jie shoved him away in disgust.

"Stay away from me. I have something else to ask you."

"Ah!"

Bob let out a long breath and sat down, looking visibly refreshed. "Ask away. Anything I know."

"Last time, you said Fish Mooney might attack the precinct if she went crazy. But I get the feeling her forces aren't that..." Li Jie shook his head. "Terrifying?"

"Of course they aren't. They're a gang, not an army. We have so many people and so many guns that even the Roman wouldn't dare launch a frontal assault, let alone some Fish Mooney. A rabble on a battlefield is still a rabble, no matter how many PKMs you give them." Bob smiled contemptuously. "But the problem is, we have family and friends outside. We can't stay in the precinct forever either. That's what makes gangs more frightening."

"So that's it... by the way, after I was sent to the hospital, where did the other survivors go?"

"Gordon took them away. That Hargrove was deemed mentally ill and sent to Arkham Asylum. There was also one of Falcone's underlings. For some reason, SWAT said he'd made a false report, and he took quite a beating in there." Bob looked at Li Jie with amusement. "Do you know anything about that?"

"Huh? Oh... no, no, I don't. But apparently he works for Victor Zsasz. SWAT had better not bring trouble down on themselves," Li Jie said, feeling a little guilty. "After all, beating a confession out of someone is... not exactly good. Why don't we bring him back?"

"Huh? All right, I'll call Central Headquarters. You owe me, remember that." Bob pointed at him. "Now get lost. I have to write a report to satisfy City Hall."