Gotham: After Dark - The King Slayer (2 page)

Tony had a bit of an idea of what to expect when he arrived entered the Grisham estate. There were reports of a number of homicides so he expected to see a body or two when he strolled into the big house. As they strolled into the house through the big doors, there was nothing in the foyer besides the uniformed officers and the maid who was still sobbing on the stairs. The butler was sitting beside her and trying to comfort the heartbroken woman. As the two prosecutors walked in, one of the uniforms recognized Dent and pointed to their right to give them direction.

“Mr. Grisham is in his den.” The officer told them. “The women and kids were in their rooms when they were killed.”

“The kids are dead too?” Tony asked.

“Killed in their sleep.” The officer replied. “I don’t think they struggled or suffered but I cannot say the same for the adults in the house. Their killings were very, very messy.”

“Come with me.” Dent said as he grabbed Tony by the sleeve and walked him towards the den. As they strolled into the room, the mess was evident. Mr. Grisham was face down into his desk, with a large and very menacing knife sticking out of his back. There was blood everywhere that suggested the old man had bleed out from his wounds.

“I don’t get it.” Tony said as he looked around. “Why didn’t he call for help or try to get to a phone?”

“He was stabbed in the back.” Dent said back to him. “The knife not only severed his spinal cord but also punctured a lung. When someone stabs you there, you can’t even whisper much less scream for help.”

“Did the killer know that?” Tony asked.

“I’m sure of it.” Dent said as he walked around the desk, trying to gaze at it from every angle. “His death didn’t wake the kids or their mother. It allowed him to go up there and kill them without so much as a peep. This guy whoever it is knows how to kill properly kill people quietly.”

“A professional?” Tony suggested.

“Maybe.” Dent answered as he looked back at Tony. “But the manner in which Grisham was killed suggests otherwise. Look at it from this angle and you’ll see something you can’t from over there.”

Tony was still in front of the desk when Dent made that statement. He walked over to where his boss was, which was behind the desk to view the body from behind. When he got there, it was evident what the old man was referring to as it looked even worse when looking at it from behind.

“There are multiple stab wounds.” Tony said.

“As many as a dozen,” Dent confirmed. “This was personal. Whoever did this has either lost their marbles or they knew this man and had a real bone to pick with him. The multiple would also suggest why there is so much blood.”

“And it also explains why he bled out so quickly.” Tony also added. “All these wounds would have drained him in less than five minutes.”

“It was quick but by no means painless.” Dent said as he turned to walk away from the desk.

“If this is personal, why kill the family?” Tony asked.

“Maybe it was so quick he wasn’t satisfied.” Dent suggested, “I’m not entirely sure but I’ll be happy to ask him once these competent detectives have brought the man to justice.”

“I heard that.” One of the suits in the room called out. “Try not to put too much pressure on us, Dent.”

“Mossan.” Dent said as he called out to him. “Am I happy to see you here on the case.”

“I’m not.” Mossan replied, “I’m just observing, Captain’s prerogative. Loeb and Dix are on the case. They’ll take care of it.”

“I’d feel much better if you were handling it.” Dent confessed.

“I am,” Mossan corrected him. “I’m just doing it from a distance. I’ll stake take a peek and make inquiries to make sure things are by the book.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.” One of the other suits then said.

“You’ll do as you’re told, Loeb.” Mossan fired back.

“Yes, Sir.” Loeb said before going back to work.

“They’ll be fine.” Mossan said to Dent with a grin. “They’re young but they need to get their feet wet. I can’t be here all the time. Detectives come and go so you’ll have to adjust and work with the hand you’re given.”

“I’m not much of a poker player.” Dent informed the Captain.

“It looks like Mr. Grisham was.” Tony called out as he pointed to the table. “There’s a card in the middle of the table.”

“Just one?” Dent said as he turned back. “Where are the others?”

Tony looked around and then under the table. “I don’t see any.”

Dent turned back to Mossan. “Get the butler.”

Moments later Detective Dix returned with the butler of the house.

“What can I help you with?” The butler asked.

“Did your boss every play with cards?” Dent asked him, “Like poker, blackjack, solitaire?”

“Never.” The butler coldly replied, “He found the games childish.”

“Then what is this doing here?” Tony asked as he pointed to the evidence bag that held the playing card that was half covered in blood.

“I don’t know.” The butler honestly answered. “He never allowed a single deck into the house. Ever.”

“Thank you.” Mossan said as he got the detective to remove him from the den. “What are you thinking here, Dent?”

“The killer left it.” Dent said as he walked up and took the evidence bag from Gordon. “This sick puppy is trying to send us a message.”

“What kind of message?” Mossan asked as Dent was looking into the bag.

“King of hearts.” Dent said as he closed the bat up. “Why would someone leave that specific here? What point is this killer trying to make?”

“The Holy Heart Charity.” Tony answered. “Grisham is one of the charity’s board members, the chairman if I’m not mistaken.”

“So he’s the king, and the company is the heart.” Dent said as he looked back to Mossan.

“So he just left one card?” Mossan asked.

“No, there are more.” Tony said as he left the room and began to sprint down the hall. Without warning, Gordon flew past the butler and the crying maid and shot up the stairs without losing his breath. He jogged down the hall to the bedroom where there was a guard stationed there to make sure people didn’t disturb it. He walked inside and wasn’t ready for what was waiting. While the kids were all killed without much fight or gore, Mrs. Grisham was the exact opposite as her scene was as bloody and personal as her husbands. Tony held his hand to his mouth as he circled around the room and began to look around. Moments later, Gordon emerged from the bedroom and slowly walked back to the staircase. Mossan, Loeb and Dent were at the bottom of the stairs waiting for him and eager to see what he had.

“What’s the news, kid?” Dent called from the bottom.

Tony Gordon held up another playing card. “Queen of hearts.”

“Son of a bitch.” Dent said as his frustration was evident.

“What’s wrong?” Loeb asked.

“He viewed the Grishams as the king and queen.” Dent answered, “It also means this is just the beginning. Our perp is going to strike again.”

“And how do you know that?” Loeb asked.

Dent looked back at the detective. “There’s fifty cards left in the deck.”

His first day on the job and Falcone was feeling pretty good about it. He was wearing his lucky suit and so far it hadn’t let him down that day. His early morning interview with Don Sabatino couldn’t have gone any better. The old man liked him so much, he immediately put him to work by asking him and Joe to collect their cut from local stores downtown. Falcone took it as the compliment that it was. He was just starting and the old men trusted him to already handle some of the money. The old man was a good judge of character and he liked the way the kid handled himself so he was eager to test the boy’s alleged loyalty and there was no better way to do it then let him handle some of the money and make sure every penny came back without excuse. Falcone knew exactly that and wasn’t going to let Don Sabatino down. The first place on their list was Woo’s corner store. The old man who ran the business, Mr. Woo, was a Chinese immigrant that minded his own business and paid Mr. Sabatino his cut without question or complaint. As the two men entered the store, Falcone gestured for Joe to keep watch on the door while he conducted business.

“Mr. Woo.” Falcone said as he slowly approached the till. “My name is Carmine Falcone, I’m here on behalf of Don Sabatino. You know why we’re here. We’re here to collect our cut.”

“Yes,” Mr. Woo said as he bowed and disappeared into the back room. The little man returned with an envelope that was packed with cash. As he handed it over to Falcone, he paused for a moment. “I have a small issue I need to discuss.”

“Such as?” Falcone said as he took the envelope and stashed it into his coat. He didn’t even count it.

“You’re not going to count it?” Mr. Woo asked.

“Do I need to count it?” Falcone replied.

“No.” Mr. Woo said, “It’s all there.”

“Then I don’t need to count it.” Falcone said as he paused for a moment. “Now what was this small issue you were referring to?”

Mr. Woo seemed nervous. “The store is going to be closed for at least three weeks next month. I have to go home to visit my father because he’s sick.”

“And if you’re not making money.” Falcone surmised, “Then we’re not making money either.”

“That is correct.” Mr. Woo said.

“I’ll have a word with Mr. Sabatino.” Falcone informed him. “We’ll put our heads together and figure something out for you.”

Mr. Woo seemed genuinely surprised by the tone the young man was taking with him. It was far more respectful than the previous people Sabatino had sent out to collect. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for informing us about it.” Falcone said as he turned to Joe who was standing there drinking a can of cola. “You gonna pay for that?”

“For what?” Joe asked.

“For what’s in your hand, jarhead.” Falcone called out. “Pay the man for his product and let’s get out of here.”

“I don’t pay for anything here.” Joe said with a scoff. “No one does.”

Falcone’s face quickly soured. “What the hell not?”

“He pays us,” Joe said, “Not the other way around.”

Falcone had heard just about enough of that as he walked over and slapped the can right out of Joe’s hand. Before Joe could do anything else, Falcone punched him in the face, dropping him to the ground like a sack of potatoes. There was blood all over the place, his nose was clearly broken.

“This man is trying to run a business.” Falcone said as his voice had a tone of utter disgust. “Where do you think Mr. Sabatino’s money comes from? Mr. Woo doesn’t have a press in the basement to print his own cash. It comes from selling these products. So when you steal from Mr. Woo, you are also stealing from Mr. Sabatino and no one steals from Mr. Sabatino on my watch. We clear on that?”

“Yes!” Joe cried, trying to stop his nose from bleeding.

“Now you apologize to this man,” Falcone roared at him. “Right now!”

“I’m sorry!” Joe called out.

Falcone grabbed Joe and quickly lifted him to his feet. “Now you pay that man for the soda and anything else you’ve taken for the last few months. You do it now or I’ll beat you so bad you’ll be eating Christmas dinner through a straw.”

Joe reached into his pocket and pulled out a ten. “That should cover all of it, Falcone.”

Falcone took the five from Joe and gestured to the door. “Wait outside.”

Joe never said a word and left the store immediately. Falcone took the ten dollar bill and handed it to Mr. Woo as he walked back to him. “This is for the soda and anything else he took the prior months he was here to collect. Contrary to what others believe Mr. Woo, we are here to protect you, even if that means protecting you from ourselves. If anyone takes something from your store, I don’t care who it is, you tell me about it and I will bring that person back to apologize and pay for what they’ve taken. You’re paying for a service; I suggest you actually use it whenever you have to.”

Mr. Woo couldn’t believe it. “I will, thank you.”

Falone took out another dollar and handed it to him as he took a chocolate bar off the table. “Keep the change. When do you leave to see your father?”

“Two weeks.” Mr. Woo answered.

“We’ll be in touch before then.” Falcone told him. “Have a nice day.”

“You too.” Mr. Woo said as he watched Falcone walk out.

Falcone walked out of the store and Joe was out there waiting for him and he didn’t look pleased as he had blood all over his white dress shirt. “I’m going to kill you for this!”

“That can wait.” Falcone said as he gestured to the car. “We have four more stores to hit and Mr. Sabatino’s waiting.”

Joe wanted to say something else, but Falcone was right. It wasn’t wise to keep the boss waiting so he got back into the car. Falcone got back into car and before he started it, he turned to face his friend. “I’m sorry about that but I’m afraid the way we do things around here is about to change. No more nickel and diming our clients. Understood?”

Joe nodded his compliance and with that, Falcone pulled the car out and sped off for their next pickup.