Cobblepot sat in his car and looked outside. The reconstruction sites in the East End were still bustling. But now, the roar of the cranes filtering through the glass seemed to mock him for overestimating himself.
Three hours earlier, he had returned from City Hall.
Mayor O'Brien-or rather, the officials who held the key powers-had not rejected him. They had merely smiled, nodded, and said in the gentlest tones:
"Congressman Cobblepot, your plan is very forward-looking. But we need to reassess its impact on the city as a whole."
"Yes, this proposal... isn't it a little too radical?"
"In fact, most of the congressmen feel that the East End's experience may not be applicable to all of Gotham."
Cobblepot had kept smiling then. Since entering politics, he had long since learned to hear the meaning behind bureaucratic platitudes. What he did not understand was...
Why?
An urban redevelopment plan, with funding from the Federal Government, corporate sponsorship, and a proven success story-the East End was right there, and all the figures were laid out in black and white.
Why would it be rejected?
"Why? Because you must have stepped on someone else's interests."
Bob tipped the little mountain of cigarette butts in front of him into the trash. "I thought you could figure out something that simple on your own."
When Cobblepot pushed open the door to the East End police chief's office, a thick cloud of smoke billowed into his face, as though a portable gas stove had exploded inside.
"Cough, cough... cough..."
He coughed for quite a while, choking on the smoke. He waited outside until it had thinned a little before finally steeling himself to enter and put his question to Bob McGinnis.
"Someone else's interests?"
Cobblepot sat there and thought for a moment. "Chief, this