Bloodshed

After he left the Iceberg Lounge, some of the people who liked to run wild at night were already out on the streets. They squatted in alleys in twos and threes, smoking and pissing while lying in wait for unlucky passersby. The air soon reeked of piss.

"Get out of my way!"

Li Jie turned up his collar and headed toward the patrol car parked two streets away. He kicked aside a junkie sprawled across the road, plainly drugged into unconsciousness. Flashing his badge and the grip of his gun, he slapped another man who couldn't resist rushing over to strip him of his clothes, sending him spinning like a top. The others immediately put on understanding, restrained smiles and retreated to the corners on their own.

"I'll take my time playing with you when I get the chance."

He climbed into the patrol car, slammed the door, and rubbed his hands together. Just as he turned the key, his phone rang.

"Sir, George and Steven, the officers checking the clothing stores, are dead."

"What? Wasn't Steven a civilian employee in the Technical Division?"

"Yes, but we're short on people... Besides, they were only checking order and sales records at clothing stores. The Chief didn't think there would be any danger, so he sent him to help." Alan sounded rattled over the phone. "They... For some reason, George and Steven got into an argument in the street, then suddenly drew their guns and shot each other. They both died."

"Where did they die?"

"In the Burnley District, near the Sprang River, outside a clothing store on Wynterston Street. A lot of the shops nearby were already open, and plenty of customers saw..."

"Forget the fucking customers. They can see whatever they want to see." Li Jie floored the accelerator. The tires spun furiously over the lingering snow, letting out a piercing screech.

"I'll be right there."

Neither George nor Steven could be called a good cop. Both were lazy and cowardly. Precisely because of that, they usually preferred to avoid trouble and had never had any serious conflicts with their colleagues, much less with each other.

Li Jie's lips pressed into a thin line. This was almost certainly the work of that master hypnotist.

You fucking bastard. Just wait until I get my hands on you.

The patrol car barreled through the streets straight toward the crime scene. By the time he jumped out, yellow-and-black police tape had already been strung up.

"Hey, I thought they'd send a detective from Homicide or the Major Crimes Unit. Didn't expect a fellow patrol officer."

A patrol officer from the West District Precinct leaned against his car, his tone openly mocking. Another officer was taking a witness statement nearby, occasionally glancing their way.

"They're both dead. Colleagues of yours? What's wrong with you cops at the Eastern District Precinct, doing this right out in the street..."

"Where did they go before they fired?" Li Jie surveyed the bodies on the ground. They lay less than five meters apart, their positions mirror images of each other.

He quickly reconstructed the scene in his mind. The two had practically pointed their guns at each other's heads and pulled the triggers.

"Didn't you hear me? You people in the East End are seriously damaging the reputation of Gotham's police. You're dragging us..."

"Where! Did they go! Before they fired?"

With one hand resting on his gun, Li Jie turned slowly and menacingly toward the patrol officer. "Next time, my gun will be asking the questions."

"Uh..."

The patrol officer stared at him, his entire body rigid as though someone had seized him by the throat. Trembling, he pointed to a shop a short distance away. Li Jie ignored him and strode inside.

The sign for Elegance Fashion Art swayed gently in the breeze. The shop smelled of fabric and a faint trace of lavender.

"GCPD. Anyone here?"

"I'm here, officer." A young woman rose shakily from behind the counter, wringing her fingers nervously. "Your colleagues outside already questioned me. I really don't know anything. God, this is awful."

"The two officers who died came into your shop earlier. What did they ask you? Was it about a blue dress?"

"Yes, yes. How did you know?" The shopkeeper nodded repeatedly. "They asked whether anyone had bought a blue puff-skirt dress and a white apron in the past few months. But most of my clothes are styles for adult women. I've never stocked the things they described."

Li Jie stared into her eyes, unable to tell whether she was lying. Nothing showed on the surface, but what if she had been hypnotized too?

After a moment's thought, he asked, "Are there any other clothing stores on this street?"

"Yes." The shopkeeper pointed east, back the way he had come. About two hundred meters down the street, there was another shop selling all kinds of costumes and children's clothes.

Without another word, Li Jie turned, rushed out the door, and ran east. He didn't stop until he reached the Plume Costume Shop, where he shoved the door open and charged inside.

"GCP... Fuck!"

He involuntarily stepped back to avoid treading in the sticky blood. A middle-aged woman sat in a chair opposite him, clutching a knife and staring straight at him.

The knife had chopped into her carotid artery, spraying blood across the wall like an out-of-control fire hydrant. The blow had been so forceful that it had nearly severed half her neck. A line of bright red words was written on the wall behind her. The wet lettering snaked across the wall, making his skin crawl and leaving him a little confused.

"Off with her head!"

A burning trash can stood at her feet, flames crackling inside it. Sheets of paper shriveled and curled in the fire, turning into blackened clumps of ash.

Bracing himself against the nearby counter, Li Jie bent down, stretched out his arm, and picked up the trash can. He hurled it out the door, then rushed outside and frantically stomped out the fire.

He crouched on the ground, hoping to dig something useful out of the debris, but almost everything had burned to ash. The cold wind swept it up in swirling clouds that rose into the sky and vanished beneath the lead-gray clouds.

The fluorescent tubes in the Gotham Police Department's evidence room always buzzed like flies, grating on everyone's nerves.

"Find anything useful?"

"No..." Nygma shook his head. "Almost all the sales records were burned. The few scraps I could reconstruct were all for regular customers. None of them bought a blue puff-skirt dress."

"Fuck!"

Li Jie raised his fist to slam it down, then remembered he was in someone else's evidence room. He looked around, but there seemed to be nothing he could vent his frustration on. Disgruntled, he settled for punching his left palm.

"Calm down, Jay. At least we've confirmed that hypnosis is the right direction. Now we need to figure out how he's doing it."

"Ed." The evidence room door suddenly opened, and Gordon walked in. "How's it going? Any..."

He spotted Li Jie and nodded awkwardly. Harvey Bullock, following close behind, gave a laugh. "You've come running back to Central Headquarters again. What's this, a party for two-a homeless patrol officer and a riddle freak?"

"Yeah. A useless drunk can't solve the problem, so the young guys have to step up." Li Jie shot him a sidelong look. "You drink so much you can't even hold your gun steady. Be careful you don't shoot yourself while loading it."

"What did you say, you little bastard? You were still a puddle when I became a cop." Caught off guard by Li Jie's response, Bullock flushed red on the spot. "You think just because you've had a little success..."

"Cut the crap." Li Jie patted the gun on his right hip and the collapsible baton on his left, sneering. "Which side? Take your pick!"

"Uh..."

Looking at Li Jie's build, Bullock visibly lost his bluster. Gordon rushed between them just in time. "Both of you, calm down. Don't do anything rash."

Bullock shut his mouth. Li Jie nodded too, then turned to Nygma. "Ed, keep going. Yours is the only brain here that's up to standard."

"I think..." Nygma cleared his throat. "The means of hypnosis would most likely be mental suggestion, electronic pulses, or something like the psychic abilities in stories. Unless it's applied in person, mental suggestion would make it hard to target someone precisely, and that would be far too risky for the killer. If it's psychic powers, we might as well give up. There's no known principle behind something out of a legend."

He traced a question mark in the air. "But does an electronic device capable of controlling people's thoughts actually exist? At least, I've never heard of one. However..."

"However what, Ed?" Gordon asked eagerly.

"Although everything in the autopsy reports was normal, if he was in a hurry to silence the two officers and the shopkeeper, even a slightly excessive electronic pulse might have damaged their brains. I'd like to perform the autopsies myself."

"Don't push it, kid. That's not your job," Bullock said, pointing at him. But Gordon cut him off. "All right, Ed. I'll ask Captain Sarah to authorize an emergency procedure under exceptional circumstances."

He dragged Bullock out of the evidence room. Nygma watched them leave, then lowered his head and fell silent for a while, as though making up his mind about something. He turned to Li Jie. "Jay... Are you... at the East End... still... still short on people?"

"Oh-ho!"

Li Jie laughed softly, spread his arms, and pulled Nygma into a hug, patting his back. "Of course. I still need someone to help me carry the equipment in!"