A Christmas carol

Hall Randolph stepped out of the office building, and knife-sharp cold immediately enveloped him. Every breath carried a biting chill, as though he were inhaling countless tiny needles of ice. He pulled his coat tight and headed toward the parking lot, frost crunching underfoot.

The gleaming shop windows along the road were packed with artificial warmth. Ribbons, colored lights, stuffed reindeer with idiotic grins-but none of it could keep out the bitter wind. He hurried to his car and tried to unlock it. His fingertips were numb, and the key scraped against the lock several times. Then, in the faint reflection of a streetlight, he noticed a tall figure in a ski mask reflected in the window behind him.

The hairs on his neck shot up, but before he could turn, an arm as thick and hard as rebar locked around his neck from behind, almost instantly cutting off his breath and his scream. Another hand, wearing a leather glove, brutally clamped over his mouth. His feet left the ground as brute force dragged him into the deeper darkness behind a roadside dumpster.

"Shh... Santa's delivering presents early. You'd better cooperate."

A voice as hoarse as scraping metal sounded behind him. A cold metallic sensation penetrated his expensive wool coat and the suit beneath it: the tip of a slightly serrated knife pressed precisely beneath his left ribs. That chill was worse than Gotham's wind, stabbing straight into his heart. Every muscle in his body went rigid, leaving only uncontrollable trembling.

"Don't... don't hurt me... My wallet's... in my inside jacket pocket. Please, I swear... I won't call the police!"

The man behind him probably worked the docks. He reeked of fish, cheap tobacco, and sweat, making Hall gag repeatedly. A hand reached into his inside pocket, rummaged around, fumbled open the metal clasp, and pulled out a wad of bills.

"What a nice surprise... I was only supposed to deliver a message today." The raspy voice chuckled. "Hall Randolph. You're the program director at Child Protective Services."

"Y-yes... yes... What... what... what can I do for you...?"

"Listen carefully. Sal... uh, Mr. Falcone wants you to know that you'd better drop CPS intervention for that sister and brother at the Gotham Charity Clinic. It's better for everyone. Otherwise..."

The raspy voice leaned close to Hall's ear and quietly recited his home address.

"You don't want your son taken into CPS custody too, do you?"

The knife left his ribs and slowly traveled up his coat, finally coming to rest beneath his chin.

Hall's vision blurred, not from tears, but from pure, frozen terror. His eyes locked onto the narrow flat of the blade near its guard. Like a warped mirror, it clearly reflected his face, distorted beneath the other man's palm.

"Yes, yes... Whatever Mr. Falcone wants..."

Hall was still terrified, but inwardly he felt a little more settled. They were just two children. Whoever they were, he simply wouldn't take them in. It was no big deal.

"Good. I hope you won't forget. Merry Christmas, sir."

The arm around his neck loosened, and Hall doubled over, coughing violently. When he finally caught his breath and straightened up, there was no one anywhere around him. Only an exquisite plaster angel in the enormous shop window across the street hovered above a dazzling "Happy Holidays" sign, smiling gently down upon the street.

"That performance shouldn't have had any obvious holes..."

Li Jie climbed into the car, took off the old coat he had specially acquired, rubbed his face hard, and pulled a small square box off his neck.

"Nygma's voice changer really is pretty good," he muttered, starting the car. Several blocks later, he found a discarded fuel drum beneath a deserted bridge, threw the coat, gloves, and mask inside, doused them with gasoline, and set them alight.

"No wonder so many people like being villains. Being a bad guy really feels great." By the firelight, he counted the bills he had casually lifted earlier. Between the large and small denominations, there were about five or six hundred dollars. "Power over life and death, easy money, and no taxes. Learning to be good takes work. Going bad only takes one little slip."

"Will I really turn into someone like that someday...?"

After letting it burn for a while, he watched the flames gradually die, then climbed back into the car, listening as the gunfire beneath the city's night sky grew louder and fiercer.

"Good night, Gotham. Though... that's probably asking too much."

Over the next few days, miraculously, nothing much happened. As expected, Child Protective Services refused to take Harper and her brother on the grounds that they did not meet the medical requirements, leaving them at the clinic. Their father, Marcus, finally turned up at Central Headquarters, but for theft and aggravated assault. He probably wouldn't be getting out anytime soon.

Other than that, everything was quiet. Li Jie had developed the habit of reading the newspaper every day, but aside from billionaire Bruce Wayne's regular appearances at corporate meetings and dates with supermodels, there wasn't a single report of any nighttime legend.

"How can he be this patient?"

Li Jie raised his wrist and checked his watch. Whelan had recently mailed him this steel Rolex from Metropolis. Its market value was around five thousand dollars, and his first thought had been to sell it for cash. But after considering that it was a thoughtful gift from Whelan, he had kept it for himself.

Still, that was fine. Every extra day young Master Wayne held off meant another day before Gotham descended into chaos. The only thing that annoyed him was that Wayne Enterprises had donated a shipment of equipment and supplies to Gotham's Central Headquarters out of respect for James Gordon, while the Eastern District Precinct hadn't received so much as a damn thing.

Now Li Jie understood how Bob felt. But there was nothing he could do except have the Chief swallow his pride and apply to Central Headquarters again later.

He looked at the white roofs and streets covered in snow outside, then at the officers decorating the lobby with ribbons and ornaments, and turned to Alan. "It's Christmas today. Are you a believer?"

"Yes, sir. My whole family is."

"Good for you." Li Jie gave him a thumbs-up. Just then, his phone rang. He took it out, glanced at the screen, shook his head, and got up to walk into the corridor.

"Don't fucking tell me you've discharged yourself!"

"Of course not. Actually... actually... ha! The nurse caught me and dragged me back." Wilson still sounded as flippant as ever. "Who wants to spend Christmas in a hospital, anyway?"

"If you want to spend the rest of your life crippled, keep screwing around." Li Jie felt his reasonably good mood that morning vanish, and had to fight the urge to sigh. "So?"

"So, are you coming to the hospital to celebrate Christmas tonight? Lisa and her sister are both coming. I hear that Selina girl from last time is coming too."

"No!"

Li Jie rejected the suggestion without a moment's hesitation. "I'm on duty at the Police Department tonight."

"What the fuck? That bastard Bob's making you work tonight?"

"I volunteered. I don't believe in that virgin birth stuff anyway." Li Jie lowered his voice and laughed. "Honestly, I feel more sorry for Joseph the Carpenter."

Wilson burst into a wild, ducklike cackle over the phone. "Brother, if any Christians heard that, they'd kill you!"

"What else? Why do you think I slipped out into the corridor to take this call?"

"You were planning to be an asshole all along, weren't you?"

"Hahahahaha..."

Both men laughed without restraint. After a little more idle chatter, Li Jie hung up and returned to the lobby. Alan was binding the case files he had organized earlier, and immediately stood when he saw him.

"Hey, no need to be so formal. We're just coworkers."

"Yes, sir!"

"Stop calling me sir. It gives me the creeps. Just call me Jay."

"Understood, sir!"

"...Uh, suit yourself." Li Jie shrugged and looked at the documents in his hands. "Finished organizing everything?"

"Yes, sir. These are all of this year's unresolved cases, as well as..." He suddenly lowered his voice. "...the likely wrongful convictions where there are obvious problems with the evidence."

"And this..." He pulled a slightly thinner folder out from underneath. "These are all the crimes against children this year. Seventy-eight in total."

"...Give them to me. I'll take a look." Li Jie dropped the files onto his desk and flipped through a few pages. They were neat and orderly, their contents clear and easy to follow. "Oh, Alan, I bet you'll make at least inspector someday. Someone who takes things seriously will do well at anything."

"Thank you for the compliment, sir!"

"By the way, you and Anna should both go home and celebrate tonight. No need to stay here."

"But sir, according to the Police Officer Duty Manual, we're required to..."

"One day won't make a difference to the rules. I'm worried you two will slow me down." Li Jie waved a hand. "Don't make trouble for me."

"Yes... Thank you, sir!"

"Don't thank me yet. You're not leaving before six! There'll definitely be plenty of petty thieves and robbers before dinner today. I don't want to spend the whole night doing paperwork."

That afternoon, he drove slowly around the streets a few times, buying plenty of supplies along the way and leaving them with the Logistics Department. Just as he had expected, suspects started flooding into the Police Department at four. Theft, petty robbery, brawling... The Detention Room quickly filled to capacity, and the flow didn't begin to ease until nearly six thirty.

"All right, go on." He waved Alan and Anna away. Apart from the officers on duty, everyone else had long since vanished. "You've already been a huge help."

"Then... Merry Christmas, sir!"

The two saluted him and left the Police Department. Li Jie looked at the dozen or so listless officers in the lobby, then at the police lieutenant, the highest-ranking officer on duty.

"Sir, may I say a few words?"

"Oh, go ahead."

As a policeman with only a few months left before retirement, the lieutenant couldn't have cared less what these people wanted to do.

As long as they didn't burn down the Police Department on his watch, they could do whatever they liked.

"Everyone, I don't want to eat frozen pizza and sandwiches and drink stale, cheap coffee on Christmas." Li Jie clapped his hands hard. "Anyone want Chinese food?"

In truth, more than half the people there weren't particularly keen on Chinese food, but once someone started cheering, it was another matter entirely. Immediately, all the officers, along with quite a few prisoners behind the Detention Room bars, raised their hands and shouted, "Food! Food! Food!"

"Okay! Let me show you something."

He took off his uniform shirt, rolled up his sleeves, and went into the kitchen. About forty minutes later, he and the logistics staff carried out several large bowls of fried rice in various colors, twice-cooked pork, General Tso's Chicken, and a huge bucket of steaming beef bone soup that had been simmering since the afternoon, packed with shredded meat. He had shelled out another hundred and fifty dollars from the little over three thousand he had left.

"Whoooooa!"

The lobby immediately erupted. These officers might not actually love the food, but they loved making noise. Anything that made a boring shift a little more entertaining was welcome.

Everyone crowded around and began serving themselves onto plates or empty pizza boxes. Smelling the food, some prisoners behind the bars asked ingratiatingly, "Officer, with all that food, could we have a little too?"

"Yeah, yeah. I haven't even eaten lunch."

"If you can promise to spend tonight quietly celebrating instead of causing trouble..."

"No problem! We promise!"

Most of them immediately shouted their agreement. Of course, a few dissenting voices cried things like, "Dream on, you fucking cops!" But they were instantly drowned out by screams and curses amid a flurry of punches and kicks.

Holidays were supposed to be lively. A little entertainment like that made things much more festive.

But happy times never lasted. Just after nine, the officer taking calls lifted the phone and shouted, "We've got a different kind of case here."

The lobby immediately fell silent. Regardless of rank, everyone, including the lieutenant on duty, turned to look at Li Jie.

Fuck, why are you all looking at me, a Police Officer II? So I'm supposed to take the fall, is that it?

Cursing inwardly, he tipped his chin at the officer taking calls. "What happened?"

"Uh... Barent Restaurant on Frostine Street was attacked. Serious injuries and heavy losses."

"Huh?"

Almost all the officers, along with the prisoners who had been around a little longer, exclaimed, "Isn't that Sal Maroni's turf?"

Everyone shuddered inwardly. Only The Roman had the power to wreck Maroni's place on Christmas, and that meant the storm of war was about to sweep through all of Gotham.

But if Falcone had beaten Maroni so badly that a mobster was calling the police for help, that meant he was already on his last legs and practically finished. Maybe the chaos would end soon?

"Did they say how many men Falcone sent?" Li Jie jumped up and grabbed his bulletproof vest, putting it on as he spoke. "Any heavy weapons?"

"No... Witnesses said they only saw a shadow wearing a strange cape."

Fuck...

Li Jie took the vest off again. This was almost certainly young Master Wayne beginning his nightly patrols. He was better off staying out of the way.

Go play if you want, but why come out on Christmas? Doesn't anyone else get to celebrate?

"I'd say they were probably drunk out of their minds. You all know what kind of place Barent Restaurant is. How many men and guns they have." Watching everyone nod, he continued, "A shadow in a cape... What does that make you think of?"

Everyone looked at one another. Suddenly, someone in the Detention Room raised his hand and answered uncertainly, "The... The Shadow?"

"So my guess is they got drunk, watched a movie, disagreed about it, and started fighting. What the hell does that have to do with us? They should watch less of that supernatural crap."

"True, but Penelope's really gorgeous."

"Oh, come on. Cameron Diaz is what gorgeous looks like!"

But that was only the beginning. Half an hour later, a second business called the police: one of Falcone's warehouses near the docks. From the caller's incoherent account, it was once again a shadow in a cape moving through the night.

"All right, I'll take a look." Li Jie called over a rookie officer who was fairly good at writing reports. "Remember, if any more calls like this come in, tell them officers are already on the way, then send me the address."

"Yeah!"

With someone stepping forward to take the fall, the Eastern District Precinct's habitual slackers cheered and eagerly nodded their agreement.

He took the officer into the Ford. Its thick bulletproof tires, wrapped in snow chains, noisily crushed the deep snow as they headed out onto the empty streets.

"Wow. What a mess."

Barent Restaurant was pitch-black inside and out, with a dozen or so people lying on the ground. None were dead, but almost everyone had broken arms or legs, and at least two had comminuted fractures all over their bodies. Spent casings, shattered tableware, burned banknotes, and vomited blood littered the floor.

Since no one was in any condition to explain what had happened, he used the restaurant's landline to call ambulances, recorded the scene, and headed straight to the next crime scene.

On the way, the Police Department sent another message: the shadow had attacked a restaurant in Old Town, also on Falcone's turf. The scene at the docks was identical to the previous one. Even the bookkeeper had had every tooth knocked out, and not one of the seven or eight guards could give a complete account of the attack.

"Tsk, tsk. This guy's a real psycho."

The officer accompanying him took photographs while fighting nausea, his voice trembling as he spoke. "Do we have to keep chasing him?"

"What else can we do? If Falcone's men can't deal with him, you think they can't deal with you?" Li Jie patted his shoulder. "Worst case, we just drive a little slower."

"You're right." The officer shrugged. "I never thought being a cop would mean dealing with Rambo."

"If it's Rambo, you should thank God for looking after you. What if it's Sheriff Bravestarr?" Li Jie slowed down another notch. "Driving at night in the snow, safety comes first. Let's take our time."