"Marco, I think the chief is right. Don't worry." Edward looked up from the forensic reports spread across his desk. "Based on all the evidence we have, they can't touch you."
Marco leaned against the doorframe of the Forensics office, arms crossed. He'd come here looking for reassurance, though he wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe because Edward's logic was easier to stomach than Bob's pragmatism.
"Identify the problem, solve the problem," he continued, tapping one of the reports with his pen. "Barnes became a threat. He was dealt with. Who did it, and how they did it, those are irrelevant variables." He looked at Marco. "Don't burden yourself with messy moral considerations. They interfere with the purity of thought."
Marco let out a long breath. "You're saying the same thing Bob said. So... I guess I'm in the clear."
"You needed validation from multiple sources." Edward smiled faintly. "That's understandable. You're not as comfortable with moral ambiguity as you pretend to be."
"Yeah, well." Marco rubbed the back of his neck. "I just felt like my brain wasn't working right. I needed someone smart enough to help me sort through it."
Edward set down his pen and leaned back in his chair. "Even if you'd done nothing, Barnes would likely have ended up the same way. The only difference would be a few more dead cops along the way." He paused, studying Marco's reaction. "You also mentioned that Cobblepot set you up?"
"Not set up, exactly." Marco frowned, thinking it through. "He followed the plan. But based on what Gordon's been saying, I think he was accelerating things." He nodded to himself. "When I get the chance—"
Beep beep beep beep.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, glanced at the caller ID, and held up a finger to Edward.
"Hey, chief... Yeah, I'm at Forensics... Okay, I'll be right there."
He hung up and pocketed the phone. "Bob says there's an operation. I need to head over. We'll talk later."
"No problem. See you later." Edward smiled at Marco's retreating figure, already turning back to his computer. He pulled up the internal network, navigated to the personnel files, and searched for Cobblepot. He skimmed the details for a moment, then reached for the phone on his desk, and he dialed a number from memory.
"Hello, is this the IRS? Yes, I'd like to report suspected tax evasion..."
---
Marco took the stairs two at a time up to the second floor and opened the door to Bob's office without knocking.
"What's going on?"
Bob looked up from the paperwork on his desk. "How are you holding up?"
"Fine." Marco shrugged, closing the door behind him. "Like you said, don't dwell on what's already happened. Look ahead. There's no shortage of trouble waiting for us." He spread his hands. "So, what fresh hell are we dealing with now?"
Bob pointed to the chair across from him. Marco sat. Bob opened a drawer, pulled out several documents, and laid them on the desk.
"Right after Barnes went down, Gordon wanted to move on Zsasz immediately. But city officials shut him down. They're too scared of Falcone. Not a single judge was willing to sign an arrest warrant. So we're moving first. We're going to bring that killer in ourselves."
Marco leaned forward, eyebrows raised. "Ourselves?"
Bob slid the documents across the desk. Marco picked them up. They were authentic Gotham court warrants, signed and sealed.
"I didn't know you had connections like this."
"Connections and justice don't mean shit in this city. But money?" Bob flicked his lighter, lit a cigarette, and exhaled smoke toward the ceiling. "Money talks. I told them that Falcone ordering a hit on the police commissioner meant he was desperate. And that this was our chance to rip him out by the roots."
"And they believed you?"
"Most of them didn't." Bob smiled faintly, tapping ash into a tray. "But there are always a few brave souls willing to gamble for the right price." He gestured at the warrants. "Three hundred thousand. Not cheap. You understand what this means, right?"
Marco nodded slowly, turning it over in his mind. "The East End becomes the tip of the spear. If we pull this off... the gangs will come to us for favors. The citizens will trust us. And the city government will rely on us."
"That's right." Bob pointed the cigarette at him. "But only if we succeed. So bring enough people. Before you move in, apply some pressure. And see if Falcone will hand Zsasz over voluntarily."
"Got it. I'm on it." Marco stood, tucking the warrants into his jacket pocket.
"One more thing." Bob stopped him before he reached the door. "Notify Gordon. Have headquarters send backup. He won't pass up this opportunity."
Marco paused, hand on the doorknob. "You want him there?"
"Of course." Bob's smile widened slightly. "If we succeed, we share the glory. If something goes wrong... Better to have witnesses."
---
The armored vehicle's engine rumbled with a low growl. Gordon sat with both hands clenched on his knees. His gaze kept drifting toward Marco, who sat beside him, staring out the window with an expression that looked almost bored.
He had been watching him closely ever since they'd left the precinct. At the scene on Cherry Lane, Marco had seemed... off. He had been a cop long enough to recognize when someone was hiding something. But now? Now Marco looked completely at ease. Like the whole incident with Barnes had been nothing more than a bad day at the office.
It didn't sit right.
He cleared his throat. "Marco... that day on Cherry Lane. I know the scene must have been chaotic. If there were any details you didn't have time to mention, or if you remembered something afterward..." He let the sentence trail off, leaving the door open.
Marco's gaze shifted from the window to Gordon's face.
"I know what you're asking. I got a tip, rushed over, and saw Zsasz. Then I fired, and missed. Barnes went down." He paused, meeting Gordon's eyes directly. "That's all there is to it."
He spread his hands slightly. "I admit I failed to save him. That's on me. If I'd been one second faster, or if my aim had been a little better, maybe the outcome would've been different. But the fact is, I didn't manage it. And I'm sorry for that."
Gordon stared at him, searching for any hint of deception. But there was nothing. Either Marco was telling the truth, or he was a hell of a liar.
He opened his mouth, but he didn't know what to say. How could he accuse a fellow officer who admitted his failure and expressed remorse?
"The past can't be changed. Barnes is gone. But Gotham's cancer is still here. Zsasz is still walking free." Marco held Gordon's gaze. "What we should be doing right now isn't chewing over a past we can't alter. We should be focusing all our energy on the task in front of us: bringing Zsasz in and making him pay for what he did. That's the best answer we can give to Barnes. And to the GCPD.... Have you thought about how you're going to handle Falcone?"
Gordon drew a deep breath, forcing himself to pull his thoughts away from the swirl of suspicion and doubt. He nodded heavily.
"You're right." His voice regained its usual firmness. "Focus on the mission. Catch that bastard. He's probably sitting on a mountain of evidence against Falcone."
"No." Marco shook his head. "Someone like Zsasz won't cooperate. He won't turn on Falcone, no matter what deal you offer him."
Gordon frowned. "Then what's the point?"
Marco smiled faintly. "The point is that once we arrest him, Falcone is finished. Not because Zsasz talks. But because he can't even protect his own personal enforcer." He leaned back. "It sounds strange, I know. But that's all it takes. The Roman's empire will lose its power to intimidate. His reputation will collapse."
He glanced out the window as the armored vehicle rolled through Gotham's streets. "And when that happens? The hyenas who've been watching from the shadows will swarm in and tear him to pieces."
Gordon considered that. After a moment, he nodded slowly.
"Alright. Let's bring him in."
The armored vehicle rumbled on, carrying them toward the confrontation ahead.