Marco stood at the entrance of the old East End Precinct building, pulling on his familiar police jacket. He watched the pedestrians hurrying past on the street. He took a deep breath of air.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath. "I should've stayed at the beach a few more days."
The precinct doors swung open, and Darnell came out, tossing his car keys in the air and catching them. When he spotted Marco, his face split into a grin.
"Hey! Man!" Darnell clapped him on the shoulder hard enough to make him stumble. "How's it feel to be back? Any wild vacation stories? Meet any beach babes?"
"Long story. And no romance to speak of." Marco returned the shoulder slap, though with considerably less enthusiasm. "Your injury's completely healed?"
"Good as new!" Darnell swung his arm in a wide circle to demonstrate, like a pitcher warming up. "Strong as ever. Hey, you wanna grab some breakfast from the new building? I'm starving."
"Too expensive. They charged me a dollar for a soft-serve cone. I don't even want to know what a burger costs."
"Cops get a discount, man." Darnell pulled out a laminated card and waved it like a winning lottery ticket. "Don't tell me you never picked yours up from logistics?"
Marco opened his mouth to respond, but movement at the corner of his eye made him turn. Edward was rounding the corner, briefcase in hand. He had a smile on his face.
"Good morning, gentlemen. Marco, I've got it. The riddle you gave me yesterday before you left, I figured it out."
"Wait." Marco held up a hand, then turned to Darnell. "Do me a favor? Go grab us a couple burgers, then bring the car around. We need to start patrol soon."
"Sure thing." Darnell headed off toward the new building, still tossing his keys.
Only after Darnell was out of earshot did Marco turn back to Edward and lower his voice. "You figured it out?"
"Of course." Edward nodded. "Your question was, 'Why does Batman wear a mask but leave half his face exposed?' At first, I thought it was about identity or intimidation, but then I realized, it's about what he's showing versus what he's hiding."
He pulled out a small notepad and sketched quickly. "The exposed half represents what we can see: his actions, interventions, and presence. The hidden half represents what we can't control: his identity, methods, and autonomy. But here's the key..."
He circled the sketch. "A half-measure. He's only halfway committed to either secrecy or transparency. And what do we call someone who takes half-measures?" He looked at Marco expectantly. "Someone who needs to be reined in. You're saying Batman's activities need to be restrained, limited, brought under control before his half-measures create more problems than they solve."
Marco stared at him for a long moment, his brain doing gymnastics trying to remember what the hell he'd meant when he'd thrown that question out yesterday. He'd been tired, and not really thinking...
"Uh... yes! Exactly!" He gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up. "That's brilliant, Ed. I worked hard to come up with that riddle. I thought it might stump you for at least a day or two."
"It's nothing. With more practice, I think you could become quite good at this yourself." Edward looked pleased. "Would you like me to develop a plan for limiting Batman's activities? I've been thinking about it, and there are several approaches we could take..."
"No, no, no." Marco waved his hands so fast they were almost a blur. "That's way above our pay grade. Let headquarters deal with that kind of thing. We'll just follow their lead. No need to go looking for that kind of trouble."
The last thing he needed was Edward developing a plan to fuck with Batman. That was a one-way ticket to disaster.
"Understood. Let me know if you need anything." Edward gave a friendly wave to Darnell, who was jogging back with a paper bag of food, then walked off with that same satisfied smile.
"What was that about?" Darnell asked, handing over the bag and pulling out a soda for himself. He took a long slurp through the straw. "He looked pretty happy."
"I gave him a riddle yesterday and didn't expect him to solve it so fast."
"A riddle? What kind of riddle?" Darnell climbed into the passenger seat of their patrol car, his curiosity clearly piqued. "Last time you made one up, I figured it out before he did."
"I asked him why Batman shows the lower half of his face when he wears a mask." Marco turned the key in the ignition, the engine rumbling to life. "Think you can figure it out?"
Darnell thought about it for maybe ten seconds before giving up. "No idea. That's not even a real riddle. Who the hell knows why he does that? Probably just poor costume design or something."
"Yeah, probably," Marco said, grateful Darnell hadn't come up with some weird theory. "Anyway, doesn't matter. Let's get this patrol over with."
---
The East End had the highest crime rate in all of Gotham, and the locals' hatred of police was legendary. Most patrol officers avoided the deeper neighborhoods. Going into those areas meant you might not come back out. Or if you did, you'd be missing your wallet, your badge, and possibly a few teeth.
The streets here told their own story.
Men in hoodies gathered at the mouths of alleys, watching the patrol car roll past with hostility. They didn't bother hiding it. Why should they? This was their territory. The cops were just tourists passing through.
"Man, this place..." Darnell muttered, eyes scanning the street. Then, with a grin that suggested he was about to do something stupid, he reached for the patrol car's PA system.
"Wait, what are you..."
Darnell cranked the volume to maximum.
The next moment, a loud, cheerful, electronically synthesized voice blasted through the East End's uneasy quiet:
"ATTENTION! ATTENTION! LISTEN UP, ASSHOLES! THE EAST END CAPTAIN WHO TOOK DOWN VICTOR ZSASZ IS BACK ON PATROL!"
The announcement echoed through the narrow streets, bouncing off brick walls and broken windows, carrying for at least three blocks in every direction.
"...TOOK DOWN VICTOR ZSASZ IS BACK ON PATROL!"
"...BACK ON PATROL!"
"...PATROL!"
Marco wanted to sink through the floor of the car and disappear into the asphalt. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"What? It's effective!" Darnell was grinning like this was the best idea he'd ever had.
And it was working.
The street transformed in seconds. It was like watching someone flip a switch. All those hostile faces just evaporated.
The name Victor Zsasz carried weight in the East End. He'd been one of Falcone's top enforcers. Every kill got a tally mark carved into his skin. By the time Marco had put him down, Zsasz had been more scar tissue than man. He'd been the Roman's personal boogeyman, the guy you sent when you wanted someone to disappear without a trace.
And everyone knew Marco had killed him in a straight fight.
The thugs who'd been eyeing the patrol car with ill intent suddenly found other places to be. A burly guy who'd been holding a crowbar like he was thinking about using it froze mid-motion, then set the weapon down on the ground. He backed away slowly, hands visible, eyes down.
Another guy who'd been pissing against a wall literally ran off mid-stream, not even bothering to zip up, just grabbing himself and hobbling into the nearest alley with his pants half-undone.
The group of young guys who'd been blocking the middle of the street, trying to force the patrol car to stop or go around, scattered like pigeons. They pressed themselves against the walls on either side, heads down, suddenly interested in their shoes.
Nobody made eye contact. And nobody said a word. The entire block went silent except for the rumble of the patrol car's engine.
It was like watching the Red Sea part, except instead of water, it was criminals, and instead of Moses, it was a cop.
Darnell let out a whistle and turned off the PA system. The patrol car cruised smoothly through the suddenly orderly street, faces turning away as they passed.
"See that?" He slapped his thigh. "Man, you're a goddamn legend out here. They're scared shitless."
Marco kept his eyes on the road, but he couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth.
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