Gotham: After Dark - The King Slayer

by Dustin Brubaker

  The man left the jewelry store shorting after the old man and his wife stopped breathing. He didn’t take a single jewel from the store, a fact that surprised even himself as the temptation was overwhelming. He quietly walked back to his car and rolled away from the store without a single person on the street to witness his escape. He drove around for what seemed like hours but was only a half of one. Eventually he stopped the car and parked right outside his next stop; the Gotham Globe, the biggest newspaper in the city. The Kingslayer wasted no time walking over to the door and walking into the building. There was a security guard at the desk as he strolled up paused in front of the guard.

  “What do you want?” The guard asked.

  “I need to drop this off with one of your reporters.” He replied.

  “Not right now, it’s closed up there.” the guard asked.

  “Will you take this up to him?” The Kingslayer asked, “His name is written on it for you.”

  “No.” The guard replied, apparently not being told what to do by complete strangers. “You can leave it here and I’ll have someone else take it to the mail room to be processed with the rest of the stuff that comes in tomorrow.”

  “I don’t remember offering you a choice in the matter, David.” The Kingslayer replied.

  The guard froze. “How did you know my name?”

  “I know a lot more than your name, David.” The Kingslayer said as he pulled a gun out from his jacket. “I also know all your sins.”

  The guard tried to reach for his own gun but it was too late. He fired several shots into the man’s chest and then one more into his head at point blank range. He then pulled a new card out of his deck; the jack of diamonds. Fitting considering the crime he also committed this very night. The streets were empty and the sound was likely muffled by the walls, so the Kingslayer took the keys from the guard’s belt and slowly walked over to the elevator and used the guard’s key to activate it.

  When Falcone showed up for work the next day, he was feeling pretty good as he strolled into the restaurant and made his way to the back room where he was interviewed just the day before. He was dressed a little more casual than he was the day before. Wearing a jacket but had a black turtle neck underneath it this time. It actually made him look more thuggish, but he didn’t really care. He wasn’t ashamed of what he did for a living and he was dead set to bring a little honor and respect back to his new profession. Mr. Woo was just the beginning as he was intent to change the way things were done from the bottom up. He was eager to do more work for Mr. Sabatino, but the old man called him in to the restaurant to speak with him about something important. Confident in his work from the previous day, Falcone walked in there feeling a little too confident, something he soon realized when he realized that Joe was already there, sporting a broken nose and looking very hostile. Falcone chose to ignore Joe because his opinion didn’t matter to him at that particular moment. Only what Uncle Joe said held weight to him.

  “Falcone.” Mr. Sabatino said as he gestured to Joe and his nose. “Did you do this to one of my men yesterday?”

  “Yes, Sir.” Falcone said without hesitation. “I did.”

  “You see!” Joe called out, “He admits it!”

  “Shut your cake hole!” Sabatino called out. “I’m talking to Falcone. We already heard your side, now it’s his turn.”

  “To be honest, Mr. Sabatino.” Falcone started, “I let my emotions get the best of me and I overreacted. I should have talked it out with him and treated your man with a little more respect. I’m very sorry.”

  ‘But why did you do it?” Mr. Sabatino asked, eager to hear his side.

  “He was stealing.” Falcone answered. “He took something from Mr. Woo’s store and never paid for it.”

  “And why would you care about Mr. Woo’s business?” the old man asked.

  “Because it’s your business too.” Falcone answered. “Ten percent of that can belonged to you. Ten percent of everything in that store belongs to you. No one is going to steal from you if I have anything to say about it.”

  “That’s exactly what Mr. Woo said when I spoke to him this morning.” Mr. Sabatino said as he stood up and walked over to Falcone. “You are impressing me more and more every damn day.” He playfully slapped Falcone on the cheek with tenderness. It was the best compliment the old man could have given him considering what he had done to Joe’s nose.

  “As for you.” Sabatino said as he turned to Joe. “I’m not sure what to do with this little turd.”

  “I actually have a suggestion, Sir.” Falcone suddenly said.

  “I’m listening.” The old man replied.

  “Mr. Woo said he’s going to have to close show for two or three weeks next month because his father is sick.” Falcone started, “If that shop is closed, it’s not making money and that’s not in our best interests.”

  “No, it’s not.” The Don confirmed.

  “I think we should make Joe tend the shop in his absence.” Falcone suggested, “Make him spend a few weeks in Mr. Woo’s shoes and gain a little respect for the old man and the honest work he puts in everyday.”

  The old man smiled at the thought. Teach Joe a lesson he’d never forget and keep the store open to keep the money flowing. He loved it. “I agree. Joe, you’ll be working at the store during Mr. Woo’s absence. Do it right because I’m going to have someone there watching you 24/7 to make sure you don’t palm anything else from that place. One more item disappears on your watch and you’ll be swimming with the fishes. Understood?”

  Joe didn’t look impressed with his demotion, but even he knew better than to say anything against Mr. Sabatino’s wishes. “Yes, Mr. Sabatino.”

  “Good, now get down to the store.” Mr. Sabatino said as he also playfully slapped Joe on the cheek. “You have training to do before Mr. Woo leaves town. Make sure he’s there all day to learn his new job.”

  “Yes, Sir.” One of the big guards said as he grabbed Joe by the collar and dragged him out of the room.

  “Falcone.” The old man said as he gestured to the next room. “We need a moment to speak about something important.”

  Falcone didn’t say a word and followed the old man into his private study that was located even deeper back into the restaurant. It was a nice room, office table, chairs and even a record player to belt out a few tunes when days got slow. The old man gestured to Falcone to take a seat and the young man did almost immediately, eager to be the good foot soldier.

  “I like you.” The old man admitted, “So much I am going to trust you with a new assignment that is of the upmost importance.”

  “Thank you,” Falcone said but he was confused. “Why am I being chosen for this task.”

  “You’re new.” The old man confessed. “There will be police where you’re going and they don’t know you yet. It will give you the ability to look around where I’m sending you unnoticed.”

  “Where am I going?” Falcone asked.

  “A crime scene.” Sabatino said as he pulled out a small card from the desk. “You’ll be posing as a reporter. I want you to speak to other reporters and to police and get as much information as you can about the crime.”

  “What kind of crime was committed?” Falcone asked.

  “Murder.” The old man replied, “Someone we do business with was found dead this morning with his wife. They were both cut up pretty bad and bled out like stuck pigs.”

  “Jesus.” Falcone said as he paused. “What business does he do with us?”

  “Well,” the old man started, “He was one of our fronts. Not only did we get a twenty percent cut from his jewelry store, but we also used him to launder money into the city and clean it up. I can’t begin to tell you how bad this man’s death is for our business.”

  “No, Sir.” Falcone said, “Was this done by a rival, to cut off our money?”

  “That’s what I was thinking.” Sabatino confessed, “That’s why I’m sending you down there. Get as much information as you c
an and see if this was done to us or just some random killing. I need every detail you can give me.”

  “Don’t we have police contacts for that?” Falcone asked.

  “We do.” The old man confirmed, “But I want as much information as possible before I approach my contacts so I’ll know what questions to ask.”

  “That makes sense.” Falcone said as he took the card from the table and stood up. “I’ll get right on it.”

  “Good man.” I want you back here by lunch with an update.

  “I’m on it.” Falcone said as he walked out and closed the door behind him.

  “Good kid.” The old man said to himself as he lit a cigar. “I’ve got a good feeling about him.”

  Dent’s car showed up at Gordon’s house before he even got a chance to catch the bus to work. Tony knew something bad had to be going on if he was picking up at home first. He kissed his wife good bye and still had a half eaten slice of toast with peanut butter on it in his mouth when he stepped into the car. Dent peeled off and didn’t say a word until about a minute after they were on the road, which made the situation much more awkward.

  “He struck again.” Dent finally said to him.

  “What?” Tony finally replied when he swallowed his bite. “How do we know it’s the same guy?”

  “Two people dead, husband and wife.” Dent answered, “Both with a knife and two playing cards were left at the scene; one on each body.”

  “Oh my gaud.” Tony said as he couldn’t hide his dread. “Are we dealing with a serial killer here?”

  “Looks that way.” Dent said as he took a sharp turn. “Didn’t even wait for them to get home, killed them at their shop this time.”

  “What shop?” Tony asked.

  “Jewelry Store.” Dent answered, “We’re going there now.”

  Tony sat there and thought about it. “He left the king and queen of diamonds at the scene, didn’t he?”

  “Damn, Gordon!” Dent said as he was impressed. “That’s exactly the cards he left there. What are you thinking?”

  “The cards are symbolic.” Tony continued, “They have meaning.”

  “How does that help us?” Dent asked.

  “If we can find out the connection.” Tony answered, “We can figure out who the other two kings are, find out who’s next.”

  “That’s a long shot but I like how you think.” Dent said as he kept his eyes on the road. “Are you sure you want to be a district attorney? I’m sure Mossan could use a smart cookie like you in homicide.”

  “No, that’s not for me.” Tony replied, “I wouldn’t be able to handle the violence. I’m not fit to serve that way. I’ll do the paperwork and let them do the heavy lifting.”

  “Fair enough.” Dent said as he wouldn’t bring it up again. “I’m kind of glad you said that, warriors in our field are few and far between, especially when representing the people. Usually most lawyers to private where all the money is and it pisses me off. Those greedy bastards would represent Satan himself if it would help them land a new caddie.”

  “Let them.” Tony said, “When we kick their asses, they’ll have one less appeal to use since they can’t claim their million dollar lawyer was incompetent.”

  “Good point.” Dent said as he finally pulled up to the area in Gotham where the cops were stations, with lights going. “We’re here.”

  As Tony stepped out of the car he realized there was a huge crowd on hand that the police was doing their best to hold back. There was also a slew of reporters, many trying to take pictures of those investigating as well as trying to scream questions to anyone of importance who might answer them. As Dent and Tony walked into the jewelry shop, the two detectives there already had a sour look on their face.

  “Don’t you have a court room to be in?” Loeb called out.

  “Funny guy.” Dent said as he moseyed around the crime scene. “We just want to see this with our own eyes, get a feel this case.”

  “We also want to provide support.” Tony said sarcastically. “Stroke the ego in the hopes you’ll be able to get through the day.”

  ‘Ha ha.” Dix said as he joined in with his partner. “Seriously though, we have enough people here. You guys are just going to get in the way.”

  “We won’t be here long.” Dent assured him, “You guys are doing great and I do honestly appreciate your hard work.”

  Loeb looked at Dent with a stern eye, checking to see if he really meant it. “Just stay out of our way.”

  “No problem.” Tony said as he started to look around. “Where did you find the cards?”

  “They were laid down on the victim’s torsos.” Dix answered, “We bagged them so no one else would see them. We’re trying to keep this detail away from the media.”

  “Too late.” A voice called out from the other side of the store’s floor. Mossan was he walked up to his detectives. “The Gazzette got a letter from our perpetrator. They contacted us the moment they realized there was a connection.”

  “What kind of connection?” Tony asked.

  “Dead security guard.” Mossan said as he walked up to Dent. “They found this on him in the lobby.” In his hand was a playing card; Jack of Spades.”

  “Oh my.” Dent said as he looked at the card. “How does the Gazzette know anything about it?”

  “Our killer entered the building, dropped off a package on the desk of one of their star reporters. There are details of everything and even a hand written message from our man, claiming responsibility for killing their guard, the two people here as well as the Grisham family.”

  “We’ve been called out.” Dix said as he cussed a few harsh words after that. It certainly explained the mass appearance of reporters at the scene. They got word and came down to cover the newest killing.

  “He even gave himself a name.” Mossan continued, “Our killer is referring to himself as the Kingslayer.”

  “Lovely.” Loeb said as he sighed. “A killer with an ego, which tells us this is far from over.”

  Mossan turned to Dent and Gordon, signaling them to follow him. “You guys come back to the station with me. You can look at the package the reporter got while these two finish up here. As for you two, get back to the shop as soon as you can.”

  “Yes, Captain.” Dix said as he went back to work.

  “Let’s get out of here and let these men get back to work.” Mossan said as he opened the door and waited for Dent and Gordon to go, walking out after then when they did. Tony didn’t argue with Mossan because he was eager to get his hands on the letter. He wanted to get inside of the mind of his killer, into the thoughts of the Kingslayer.

  As the three men walked out to their cars outside, there was a man watching standing behind the door that they all exited, meaning he had heard every word that was spoken in the jewelry story, about the killings and especially about the Kingslayer and the package he left with the Gazette. Not like it mattered; the press had it and it would all be going public very soon. The man walked across the street after the two cars pulled away and calmly walked up to a payphone. After tossing in a quarter, he slowly punched the number in and waited for someone to answer.

  “Hello?” The other side answered.

  “It’s Falcone.” The man on the phone replied.

  “What’s up?” The voice asked.

  “Put the old man on the phone. Falcone answered. “I’ve got the information he was looking for.”

  There was a pause before the old man picked up the phone. “What do you have for me Falcone?”

  “Well, it’s a case of good news and bad news.” Falcone started.

  “All right, hit me with the good news.” Sabatino ordered.

  “The good news is the killings are not linked to organized crime. So we don’t have to worry about someone trying to muscle in on our territory.” Falcone informed the boss. “This is the work of a loonie who also killed some rich people on the other side of town a few days ago.”

  “So I take it that’s the
bad news?” Sabatino assumed, “There’s a lone person out there killing people that might have ties to us?”

  “Yes, Sir.” Falcone confirmed. “He seems quite looney.”

  “How looney are we talking?” the old man asked.

  “Complete loon.” Falcone answered, “He’s calling himself the Kingslayer. He seems like some kind of violent vigilante, which means our other interests in town could be potential targets.”

  “Jesus.” The old man cussed as he didn’t like this. “I don’t like loons. They’re unpredictable. You can’t negotiate with them and they can turn on anyone at any given time. We need to get ahead of this before any more of our assets are hit.”

  “I’ll put some men on guard duty.” The old man replied, “Make sure that our other interests are protected.”

  “Look for people who are in charge, like a leader in their business.” Falcone said as he thought about what he overheard. “It looks like this guy prefers to attack who he considers kings. He’s not interested in pawns.”

  “Is there anything else?” Sabatino finally asked.

  Falcone paused for a moment and then finally spit it out. “Based on a conversation I overheard, this Kingslayer is targeting people who he thinks have sinned in his eyes. People who he perceives have done bad things. Our partners at the jewelry store were very under the radar so it would be in our best interests to find out what this guy knows about them and how he came into that kind of information.”

  There was a pause on the other side and Falcone waited patiently as it was apparent to him that the old man was thinking about his next move. He was thinking very hard about it. “See if you can speak with one of the detectives, or someone working the case. Ask them if there is anything we can do that might be able to help them catch this freak. Reach out on my behalf and offer them an olive branch.”

  Falcone was stunned to even hear the suggestion but after thinking about it for a moment, it made perfect sense. Stopping this nut bar from attacking anymore people that might work for Sabatino was in his best interests so he’d be willing to offer help if it would bring an end to the killing. Not just for his business but also for the people of Gotham.