The exhaust pipe let out a final puff of black smoke like a dying sigh, and with a terrible crunching sound of grinding gears, the G20 completely gave up the ghost on the road.
This was within expectations.
Jay called the precinct tow truck and then looked around.
He planned to find a store to buy a few packs of cigarettes; otherwise, it would be troublesome when the tow truck arrived.
When leaving the Falcone estate, Cobblepot had voluntarily come out to see him off, making a few fawning remarks about strengthening cooperation and friendly exchanges, then hurriedly scurried back inside.
That old Fox, the Roman, sure can talk.
He checked his watch. Three hours had passed; it was already dark.
The area was the South Shore of Robinson Park. Though not a commercial district, it wasn't exactly desolate either.
He jumped out of the car, zipped up his thick jacket, and headed towards the small convenience store across the street.
As usual, there were quite a few homeless people lying on the benches by the roadside, most shivering half-dead in the cold wind.
Only one person was sitting curled up in the shadow outside the circle of the street lamp, head lowered in a deep, brooding pose.
He bought a pack of Pall Mall inside and saw that the homeless person was still sitting there motionless when he came out.
Jay thought he might have frozen to death. He slowly approached, pulling out his badge.
"GCPD! Are you alright?"
He was about to check for breathing and call the municipal department when the person suddenly rolled sideways with surprising agility and stood up under the street lamp's illumination.
The guy was about the same height as Jay, and looked about Clark's age.
Black hair and blue eyes, sharp, chiseled features, and deep, somber brows—only his square jaw was shaped oddly, like a butt.
He stood up and spoke in a low voice: "I am sensing the evil of this city."
"Crazy!"
Jay blurted out the word, turned his head, and walked towards the Chevrolet across the road.
He rummaged loudly through the glove box, pulled out his police baton, and gripped it.
Because he was meeting the Roman today, he had deliberately left his sidearm at home to avoid the embarrassment of being disarmed if he was searched.
The way that homeless man rolled when standing up showed considerable skill. It would be troublesome if he was intentionally looking for a fight.
When he looked back out the car window, the person had vanished.
As if melted into the city's darkness, without a trace.
But this was an insignificant interlude, and he quickly dismissed it from his mind.
It was past seven in the evening by the time the tow truck dragged his junk heap back to the precinct parking lot.
He saw the light on in the Chief's office, knocked, and walked in, holding his hands out toward Bob.
"Didn't get anything."
"To be expected. You don't easily get a discount from an old fox like Falcone."
Bob tapped his cigarette ash on the edge of a paper cup. "You seem to be doing very well lately. But that's either luck, or because others haven't taken you seriously. Don't actually start thinking you're something special and try to take a bite out of everyone you meet."
"Yes, Boss!"
Jay nodded seriously.
He knew Bob was right. Right now, he was still nothing—though he didn't rule out the possibility that he might also be nothing in the future.
But the principle of maintaining a low profile and being reserved was always sound.
"Good that you can remember that." Bob pulled open his drawer, took out two checks, and placed them on the desk. "A fair $10,000 for each of you, special assignment bonus, clean and without any strings attached.
Damn it, you little sneak, using me for money laundering! I should deduct a 20% service fee."
"Wow, that's rare." Jay slipped the checks into his pocket. Before he could thank him, Bob asked again: "When are you planning to come back to work?"
"Ah!!! I'm still a patient, alright!"
Jay leaped up like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. "I should report you to the Police Union! You can't actually treat me like an ox and a horse."
"I'll raise your pay!"
"…But for the sake of upholding justice, it might be doable!"
"Hmph," Bob shook his head with a smile. "I'll give you a few more days off. Come back to work next Monday. By the way, Wilson won't be back, so I need to find you a new partner."
"Can't I go solo?"
"I just told you not to think you're something special." Bob extinguished his cigarette. "Putting aside whether it meets regulations, do you know the rate of solo patrol officers getting black-shot in Gotham?"
"I apologize, Chief."
Regardless of the reason, Bob's words genuinely showed he didn't want anything bad to happen to him.
Jay thought seriously for a moment, then shook his head. "Sir, these people outside… they really are… I think the chance of getting black-shot will be higher with them."
"That's true. Let me think…" Bob rubbed his temples. "Get going. I'll call you when I have news."
After leaving the precinct, Jay hesitated about whether to go to the hospital.
Visiting hours were almost over.
Although he was still technically an inpatient, he had to stay in the hospital overnight once visiting hours ended; he couldn't just roam around outside.
If he didn't go, he was genuinely afraid that, given Wilson's personality, he would do something stupid like race wheelchairs down the hallway.
After some internal debate, he hailed a taxi and headed straight for Gotham General Hospital.
As soon as he reached the third floor, Jay was called over by the nurse on duty at the station.
"Jay, it's 8:20. You have forty minutes left. We'd be very grateful if you could ask Officer Wilson's two female friends to hurry up a bit."
What the hell! Again!
Jay hurried to the hospital room door.
Great. The officer on guard duty had disappeared again.
That's truly unexpected!
He listened closely. No strange noises or moans came from inside. He knocked, then pushed the door open.
Contrary to the imagined scene of people scrambling to get dressed, pull up blankets, and fix their hair:
Wilson was propped up on the bed with a pillow, leaning against the headboard. Next to him, a generously proportioned Black woman sat quietly on the bedside, feeding him a peeled banana.
The two would then look at each other, erupting into a strange burst of giggles.
Standing by the window at the other end of the room was a young woman with her arms crossed. She wasn't tall but had a compact figure.
Her dark brown hair fell loosely to her shoulders, and she was wearing a worn leather jacket and ripped jeans. Her skin was pale, and her gaze was sharp.
She looked like a hungry but still agile cat.
"Hey, brother… Ah… you're back? Did Falcone do anything to you?"
As soon as he saw Jay enter, Wilson tried to sit up but cried out in pain as he aggravated his injury.
"He didn't do anything, just cheapskate enough not to even buy me dinner."
"Ha! You wish! This is my partner, Jay," Wilson pointed to the Black woman beside him with his right hand. "This is Lisa, Lisa Jane Colin. Did you meet her sister, Lisa Ann Colin, last time?"
He grinned lewdly. The Black woman waved confidently at Jay.
"Hi, I'm Darrell's friend," she said, then pointed to the white girl by the window. "Selina Kyle is my friend. We might be sisters soon. Do you like her?"
Selina gave a cold nod, while Jay involuntarily shivered.
What? Do I like her?
She's Batman's official partner! Anyone who touches her dies!
The corner of his mouth twitched, and he managed a forced smile.
"Hi!"
"I think your friend is smitten. You said last time he was still…"
Lisa leaned close to Wilson's ear and whispered a word, and then both burst into suppressed laughter.
She then asked Jay: "This girl is young, beautiful, and great in a fight. She's short on cash right now and takes any job. Do you want to try spending some time with her?"
Selina, by the window, frowned at the comment. Her emerald eyes gleamed with an elusive light in the dimness.
Her fingertip slowly traced the wooden frame, making a faint hissing sound.
A cascade of fine wood shavings drifted down, leaving a deep score mark on the window sill.
Jay felt his personal sign of impending doom flashing like a police siren above his head.
The current Catwoman might be harmless.
But if you say one more words and she takes a dislike to me, what if the guy who pretends to be a bat and stays up all night jumps through my window and drags me out for a beating?
He shook his head furiously. Wilson was also slightly annoyed, feeling the comment was inappropriate.
"What are you talking about? This is my partner. Can't you at least give him a better discount?"
"Can't a banana shut you up, huh? What about this?" He pulled open his pocket, took out a check, and placed it on the bedside table. "How about a Franklin?"
"Woah!"
Both Wilson's and Lisa's eyes lit up simultaneously. He reached out, grabbed the check to examine it, and then handed it to Lisa.
"Also, Bob told me to go back to work on Monday."
"Huh? I'm still hospitalized! Are you going to patrol alone?"
"He said he's giving me a new partner. You'll be quiet for at least three months. I'll be back on the streets dodging bullets in a few days." Jay sighed. "Also, you two better hurry up. The nurse is about to clear the rooms."
"But at least you don't have to pee in a bedpan. Damn it, it's hard to say which is worse." Wilson shook his head, looking miserable. "Are you staying at the hospital tonight?"
"No, I'm going home to cook. I haven't had dinner yet."
"Hey! Hey, brother, can you bring me some tomorrow morning? I want sweet and sour spare ribs."
"You're thinking too much! Just lie still and focus on figuring out how to pee!"
He deliberately stayed in the hospital room for a few more minutes, then left after Lisa and Selina had gone downstairs.
Unexpectedly, he hadn't walked far when someone called out from behind him.
"Officer!"
He turned back at the sound, instinctively stepping back.
"Uh… Hi… Miss Kyle. Is… is… is something wrong?"
"Just call me Selina," Selina strolled out from the sheltered side of the building, her hands tucked into her leather jacket pockets, moving slowly.
Her cat-like gait exuded a sense of lazy danger.
Her metal heels tapped the cold cement ground, making a sharp, rhythmic clack, clack sound that was particularly clear in the silent night.
"You seem a little scared of me?" She tilted her head slightly, the light in her eyes shifting with a playful quality.
"N-n-n-n-no…" Jay raised his hand and wiped his face. "I just have a bit of… um… a cold wind allergy…"
"That's the first I've heard of that…" Selina took two steps closer, looked up, and stared at him with a half-smile. "I heard you know Mr. Falcone?"
"Uh… No, uh, not exactly," Jay licked his lips, taking two steps back to increase the distance. "I only accompanied GCPD Detective James Gordon."
Anyway, Gordon has countless problems on his plate. One more won't hurt, right?
"I see," Selina nodded, looking around the empty, cold street. "Well… it's hard to catch a taxi here. Would you be able to… drop me off at the subway station?"
"Hey! Guess what? I really can't." Jay let out a breath and suddenly cheered up. "I'm poor as dirt. I can't afford a car."
——————
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