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A Gotham Tale: Harvey Bullock	By : Driftwood Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 4464 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
This story was originally posted by myself at the tail end of last year, I decided to pull it due to work commitments in the real world as well as the fact I had actually written myself into a terrible corner!
It is back, renewed and re-fresehd I hope you all enjoy it!
Chapter One
Rosa’s Apartment, Gotham City
It was the thunder that woke Harvey Bullock up from a troubled sleep. The deep growl and rumble of the thunder had gotten under his skin and rattled his bones. Harvey lifted his head slightly from the pillow, his crusted eyes peeling open and for a moment and he looked around, unsure of his location and the whereabouts of the dark room. The thunder rolled on for a few more seconds before finally dying, with the curtains drawn the room was gloomy, no sunlight seeped in from outside just enough stormy gloom to confirm to Harvey that a dark rainy day was causing havoc beyond the curtains and cheap window glass, the storm was predicted to hit but no one seemed to mind, Harvey smiled grimily ‘I bet they mind right about now.’ He thought.
It was only when Harvey reached for the alarm clock did he see the muted glow of his phone, he had two missed calls from a number he did not recognise, he had slept through both calls though they had only called a few minutes earlier. It was the time on the phone that made Harvey finally sit up, his bones popping with the sudden activity, he reached across with his free hand, grabbing the plastic digital alarm clock and holding it up to his sleepy eyes. The screen was dead, he gave it a jostle but with no results.
Harvey climbed out of the bed and walked as quickly as he could to the bedroom door, he chanced the light switch clicking it up and down a few times, when the lightning flashed outside he thought he had restored power, it was only when the rumble of thunder that followed hot on the tail of the flash did Harvey realise his mistake.
The lights throughout the apartment yielded the same results, Harvey knew what he would find when he pulled open the fridge, the lack of light still disappointed him and he swore under his breath. Leaning against the kitchen counter he dialled his partner Travis, it took two rings before the call connected, “Travis it’s me, I’m running a little late.”
Travis laughed down the other end, Harvey could hear the traffic in the background, the steady swoosh-screech of windscreen wipers and he knew that his partner was on speaker phone from his car, “Well that’s you, me and about all of Gotham this morning,” Travis filled Harvey in on the blackouts that had swept across Gotham in the earlier hours of the morning, “If you can stand getting wet, I would walk to the Department Harv’”
Harvey caught sight of his overweight belly in the dirty chrome handle on the refrigerator and gave a dry laugh, “It might do me some good. See you when I see you buddy.”
Harvey put his phone down on the counter and looked about the tiny kitchen beyond which were a less than fantastic living room, bedroom and bathroom. It had been enough for Rosa though, it had been Rosa’s little world before Harvey had pulled her from it and shoved her on a train to save her life. The dust had settled and Harvey had called for her to come back, only thing was she was gone, so were her mother and about half of his bank account. She had run and never stopped it seemed, how she had found his little nest egg he was sure only Rosa could say, she had stolen from him but the hurt was still at her running from him, from their life together.
Harvey undressed and turned the shower all the way into the red, he needed the heat to loosen up his muscles and aching joints. The cold water that pelted him when he got under the dented and blocked showerhead reminded him suddenly of the lack of power. Harvey managed a full minute before he jumped out of the shower, his feet slipping on the tiled floor, his body shaking as he grabbed a grubby towel to dry off. He was crossing the living room when his mobile phone came to life he changed direction and grabbed it off the Kitchen counter. “Bullock here,”
“Please hold for Mister Vandergilt,” a pleasant voice replied, the line going silent for a moment.
Harvey’s brow furrowed at the name, it was a name known about Gotham and Harvey knew the man personally, well had known the man personally a life time ago. Harvey crossed the living room, another flash of lightning erupted around the frayed curtain’s the rumble of thunder following a few seconds later making his phone hiss and crackle next to his ear. “Harvey it’s me Warren how have you been?” The voice on the other end of the phone sounded relaxed, but Harvey could hear the clipped words, the forceful way in which it was delivered to sound relaxed and off handed.
The voice made Harvey stop in his tracks, it was like hearing from a ghost, what had it been ten maybe fifteen years, “I’m doing well Warren, though when I got up this morning I didn’t think I would be getting a call from you, it’s been years.” Harvey pulled the phone from his ear and quickly scanned the screen, two missed calls before he finally woke up, another while he was showering and the forth he managed to get, all within half an hour of one another this was no ordinary just calling to chat call.
“…indeed, where does the time fly eh?” Warren was saying when Harvey put the phone back to his ear, “Have you managed to settle down yet Harvey, I know you were one to keep a few beds warm in your days.” The man laughed, a sound that seemed forced and made Harvey wince.
“No still single,” it felt odd saying it, Rosa had not left a note, a call or an email to say they were over but he guessed that was what they were, over. “Get to be my age in my profession, the job becomes the wife.” Harvey found himself smirking at this and the laugh from down the phone actually sounded genuine, “How about you Warren, the wife and the kid all doing well?” Harvey closed his eyes trying to remember their names, God it had been so long ago.
“Trisha and I are divorced, five years now, and Laura Beth…” Harvey stood rigid, the name trembled from the man’s lips, the shake in those two words were enough to let Harvey know something was up, “Laura Beth I don’t truly know, if you want an honest answer Harvey. She might be in trouble, I think she might be, hell maybe she is I don’t know.”
Harvey cut in just as the man began to sob, “Where are you, I can get over as soon as I can.”

Vandergilt Tower
Wayne Enterprises had the biggest sleekest tower in Gotham City there was no denying it, it towered over the other families and businesses like a goliath, the giant neon lit ‘W’ acting like a giant eye, the heavy rain did nothing to dispel the buildings intimidating look. Vandergilt tower on the other hand was one of the true classic buildings in Gotham City the tower only rose to about fifty stories, twenty five less than the Wayne building, it boarded on neoclassicism with an unhealthy mix of Gothic in its parapets and gargoyles, even the main entrance rose to three times the height of an average man it gave the feeling of walking into a church albeit a high tech version of one.
Harvey had heeded Travis’ advice and had walked all the way, it had taken close to an hour and had left the man out of breath and very wet, he walked through the archway into the Vandergilt foyer, two beefy looking security guards rose from their seats, newspapers discarded and when they caught sight of Harvey their hands dropped almost lazily to the Tasers that were clipped to their belts.
Harvey smiled and held out his badge, “easy boys, I’m one of the good guys.” One guard spared a quick glance at the badge and the I.D. beneath. Their hands remained resting on their Tasers the biggest guard, bald but with a big bushy beard asked for his name and Harvey gave it. A few seconds later bushy beard relaxed as his terminal beeped happily, guard number two relaxed a second later.
Bushy beard smiled as if the last few tense seconds had not happened, “Welcome to Vandergilt towers Detective Bullock, Mister Vandergilt is up in his office, that will be floor forty one,” The man stepped aside allowing Harvey to pass, “Use lift four on your left, right at the end of the corridor there and that will take you straight there.”
It was only as the lift doors were closing that Harvey realised the building had power, he assumed from a generator and he made a silent prayer that it had enough juice to get him up top and not leave him dangling between floors. Harvey had no need to worry, just like Wayne Enterprise and GothCorps, the Vandergilt Tower was not at home to power cuts, huge underground generators had kicked in the moment the first power station went down, the huge ‘W’ on Wayne tower had hardly flickered the switch over had been so smooth.
With a gentle ‘ding’ the lift slowed and finally stopped, the doors sliding open silently. Harvey stepped out into a long corridor, the carpet under foot a deep plush red causing Harvey to hesitate dragging his wet, leather shoes across such an expensive carpet. He wiped his feet once more on the metal flooring of the lift and stepped out moments before the doors closed.
At the end of the corridor sat behind a huge expanse of Oak and steel was a young blonde lady, she gave Harvey a genuine warm smile, her glasses catching the overhead lights for moment before her stunning blue eyes were revealed to him. Harvey found himself smiling back, a goofy grin that he let out before reeling it back in. The young lady blinked as if the smile had never happened, “Detective Harvey Bullock.” It was a statement rather than a question, his name sounded honey sweet rolling off her tongue.
“That’s me,” Harvey replied stopping at the desk.
The young lady nodded and tapped at a small box on her desk, the detective in Harvey scanned the desk quickly. Neat, tidy and orderly he had no doubts her computer monitor would be just as well laid out, he felt a blush in his cheeks as he wondered if her underwear was so orderly. “Mister Vandergilt, Harvey Bullock is here.”
The double doors opposite the desk opened only a few seconds later and the third richest man in Gotham City, legally that is, stepped out. A big smile pulled at the creases on his face, his once chestnut hair now dull and greying but still thick and wavy. The man had stood tall when Harvey had known him, now he was tall and much wider but not from over eating, Warren Vandergilt had clearly found time for the gym while building his empire. “Harvey Bullock, you old dog,” The man exclaimed as one meaty hand thrust out grabbing Harvey’s.
Harvey tensed up as the man pulled him in for an unexpected bear hug, “Fifteen years and you have hardly changed.” Warren said finally releasing Harvey who took a step back and noticed the rain that was dripping from his coat had now transferred to Warren’s rather expensive looking dark pin stripe suit, Warren dismissed it with a wave of one hand, “It’s water, it dries, come on get in here,” Warren swung an arm around Harvey and led him into the office.
The change was instantaneous in Warren Vandergilt the moment huge double doors swung shut with a heavy thud. The smile was the first thing to drop then the broad shoulders sagged as the man let out a long breath. The warm welcome had been an act, Harvey had known it even if he had not gotten Warren’s phone call earlier that morning. The man may have changed over the last fifteen years but not by that much Harvey knew.
“Sorry about all that,” Warren said walking past Harvey and leading him to his desk. The room was a wide expanse, big enough that there was room for two statues (clearly modern art that made Harvey wince at the stupid price he knew the man would have paid). A small conference area made up of four inter lock settee’s took up a small amount of space along the left wall next to a rather high end coffee machine and to Harvey’s growling stomachs delight, fresh pastries.
Harvey pulled his coat off and removed his hat hanging them on a coat rack before joining Warren at his desk. The man took on a rather impressive form stood behind his desk, the Gotham skyline dominating the windows behind the man, even with the rain Harvey was impressed with the view, the forked lightning that ripped across the sky illuminated the room, casting a white hot outline around Warren and something deep inside Harvey felt suddenly scared.
“That was one hell of a greeting Warren.” Harvey said swallowing the small ball of fear that had climbed out of hibernation.
Warren smiled grimly only sitting down once Harvey had taken a seat the other side of the desk, “If I show any signs of weakness, sadness, stress heck if I sneeze the shareholders will find out and get jumpy,”
“You don’t trust your secretary? You need to find a new one.”
Warren barked out a laugh, “No she’s good at what she does,” a small smile crept up below Warren’s thick moustache, one moment it was there the next gone but it was enough for Harvey to wonder how long it had taken the ex-Mrs Vandergilt to find out her husband was sleeping with his secretary. “But employees talk, there is no stopping it.” He shrugged his broad shoulders as if that were answer enough.
“So….fifteen years and out of the blue you call me, on a number I never gave you.” Harvey said cutting to the chase, he felt uncomfortable being here and the longer he sat the more that feeling was taking over.
Warren held his hands up, “You have me detective, I got some of my people to do a little digging and they got me your number, I needed someone I could trust.” He leaned forward onto his desk his hands knitting together before him “I need someone I can trust,” Warren repeated driving the message home.
“What’s going Warren?” The man stared intently at Harvey as if he was trying to read the man before him, seeing if fifteen years had changed Harvey, well they had especially over the last six months. “Where’s Laura Beth?” The name made Warren’s eyes water, his usually solid chin quivered. Detective Harvey Bullock came forward, “Start at the beginning tell me what you know?”
“You remember what Laura Beth was like, eight years old and independent,” Warren started, his eyes misting over as he spoke, “you remember when she got on the train to Metropolis, my god Trisha and I nearly died when we could not find her.”
“She was upset that you got her the wrong colour my little pony,” Harvey did indeed remember that day, being dragged out of bed still drunk from the bender he had been on the night before, usually the best way to wash his fresh memories of whatever little horror the Falcone family had asked him to do.
Warren nodded, “My little pony, she went all the way to Metropolis to refund the one we got her. She never grew out of it you know,” Harvey looked at Warren questioningly a slight smile on his unshaved face, “The independence not my little pony. When her mother and I broke up, Laura kind of went off the rails, dropped out of college and skipped town. She would go a week, two weeks before one of us would get a phone call, ‘I’m fine, I’m good speak to you again soon,’” Warren clicked his thumb and fore finger together, the sound loud in the large room, “and then she would be gone again.”
“She use her bank account?” Harvey asked. Laura Beth’s parents were rich which meant Laura Beth’s bank account would not be at an unhealthy level, ever.
“Every now and then, fifty dollars here, a hundred dollars there, sometimes it was the only way we could track her across the country. Then about four months ago she vanished and I do mean vanish, no phone calls, emails, her account left untouched. Over those four months Trisha and I talked more than we had ever done while married.”
Harvey held up his hand, “So she goes missing and neither of you go to the police?”
Warren shrugged, “With what, she spent the last four or five years drifting from town to town. She called or emailed now and then, they would have taken our details and that would have been it,”
Harvey wanted to reply that it would not have happened that way, but he knew the statistics all too well, Rosa was one of those statistics right now, one of those two thousand three hundred living souls that are reported missing every single day across America. Instead Harvey simply replied, “Then what happened?”
“Last month she calls, says everything is okay,” Warren’s voice perked up as he started again, “she’s found herself and wants to come home, wants to go back to college get her degree and come work for me.” The smile that was on his face was wide and proud, but the edges twitched it was all false, “she sounded so scared Harvey, I mean terrified. I didn’t push I just played along hoping she would spill the beans. I started getting a call every two days, ‘just down the road dad be in Gotham by the weekend’ then another call ‘got held up near Palookaville with a friend might be a day or two late.’ Every time she was on her way, she would call back and say she was running late.”
Harvey rubbed his head, “Warren I don’t see how I can help, if she’s heading this way you cannot expect me to go get her and drag her here.”
“You don’t get it Harvey she’s been in the city for the last three weeks.” Harvey cocked his head to one side, his brow furrowed at the news he opened his mouth to ask how Warren knew this but Warren had pre-emptied the question, “I checked her account, she’s been withdrawing money right here in the city, every time she’s called to say she’s on her way or running late she’s been making those calls right here.” Warren jabbed his finger hard on his desk punching each word out.
“Okay first, she might just be sacred to see you or Trisha,” Harvey started and held up his hand to stop Warren butting in, “Or, a thin, very thin or,” though the honest truth was a rich girl was an easy target in Gotham City, “she’s being held against her will and been made to withdraw the money.”
Warren nodded a small sign of relieve on his face that someone else now understood what was going on. “If she is in trouble I need her found, if anyone has hurt her I…” The words trembled with anger.
“I will register her on the database as missing, let the flat foots do a lot of the grafting, I will peak under the rocks no one else will want to, get in the face of people you really don’t want to. As to the other thing,” Harvey shook his head, he was a straight cop now, “I will give you their name the rest will be up to you.”
Warren showed Harvey the door, the men shook hands the talk between them light now that they were under scrutiny from the Personal assistant. As Warren closed the large doors he caught the look that Elisa gave him from her desk, the smile frosty the look deadly he returned the smile as if nothing was wrong “Once you have finished the Luthor document could you come into my office please,” and finally closed the doors.
Walking back to his expansive desk Warren Vandergilt was able to give a grim smile, it had felt good to finally get it off his chest to tell someone that Laura Beth was in trouble, he had not told Harvey that the trouble she was in was down to Warren and his stupid companions, no that would raise far too many questions, questions that would be difficult to provide sensible answers to. Warren stood at his floor to ceiling window and stared out onto Gotham, here and there power was being restored he was sure of it but the heavy rain kept his view obscured, the next crack of lightning seared an image of the city onto his retina, he jumped when his phone rang on the desk.
“Miss Lansing is waiting outside for you sir,” Elisa said her voice clear and happy, the line clicked dead before Warren could respond, and what would he have responded with that would have made any difference?
Warren rode the elevator down to the lobby, usually he would continue down another couple of floors to the car park and his own chauffer driven car, but that was not Lansing’s style. Warren nodded to the two security guards who looked surprised to see him but replied with a ‘Good Morning sir’ as Warren walked past them. He stopped for a moment this side of the revolving doors, the black stretched limousine was at the edge of the road, doors closed windows tinted black. The rain had hardly abated since it began its deluge a little after one in the morning.
Warren swallowed hard, a fleeting image of him turning around and heading back up to his office danced in his head for a second, followed by a rather darker, more disturbing image that forced him to take one step forward then another until he found himself stood out in the rain waiting for the passenger door to open on the limousine.
He stood there for almost a minute before the tinted window rolled down a quarter. Two eyes, dark and sultry under their makeup stared out at him, measuring him, accusing him. “Get in.” she finally said and the car door sprang open.
It was hot in the stretched limousine, that was the first thing Warren noticed, the heating had been turned all the way up perhaps, as he sat down he could feel the moisture on him mix with the heat in a sickly combination, the lights inside were turned down low and a thick layer of smoke hung close to the ceiling. Two rather large men sat further down the limousine, arms folded, muscles straining at their black suits, they spared a look at Warren as he got in then turned back to facing one another.
The only other passenger was the woman. She sat to one side of the rear seat offering Warren a seat next to her with the pat of one red nailed hand on the leather upholstery. Her black hair was tied back in a vicious bun that pulled at her scalp, her full red lips held a long, silver, theatre length cigarette holder. Her attire left little to the imagination, her breasts tipped with large areola and thick nipples were protruding above a tightly laced corset, the intricate tattoo where her pubic bush would be just visible between her clenched hips, her thighs were covered from hip to toe in luscious dark ebony stockings, her shoes a vivid red with long heels, each one bladed. This was Miss Lansing and she was as deadly as she was beautiful.
Miss Lansing took a long drag on the cigarette before finally pulling the silver holder from her lips, she breathed out, long and slow the smoke swirling and rising to meet the earlier dispatched haze above the passengers, “Are we playing a game Warren?” she asked, her voice gentle and patient, in a lilt that sounded as if her life had started in England.
“No Grand Mother of course not,” He replied quickly and formally, he was already on her bad side he did not want to make things worse.
Miss Lansing turned her head, her pale blue eyes surrounded by dark make up bored into Warren’s hazel eyes “Then why are you trying to load the board?” Warren blinked, swallowed hard his mouth parted to give an answer, thought better of it and closed. “You are so close to the end, you and your inner circle, now is not the time to give into fear and the unknown.” She placed one hand on his knee caressing it gently, “You offered Laura Beth willingly, she knows what is expected of her and she is open to the task ahead, but, give the word and another can be chosen.”
Warren’s eyes lit up, a way out had become available, “That can happen…” he started to say before the words were taken away from him when Miss Lansing punched him in the throat.
Warren dropped to his knees and Miss Lansing kicked him firmly in the back sending him sprawling onto his face, he went to roll over but another kick found his ribs and he rolled into a ball, another kick sent his head reeling back his eyes lighting up with a multitude of stars.
When he finally managed to roll over Miss Lansing had seated herself back down, he went to push himself back up then stopped as he felt a cold knife beneath his chin. Miss Lansing’s left leg was extended, her red leather shoe close to his face the long heel blade resting on his throat. “You weak pathetic fool, do you think you can ask a favour off me?”
Warren shook his head, Miss Lansing’s face darkened, the blade dug deeper into his throat, “No Grand Mother,” Warren choked out.
Miss Lansing nodded, “You disappointment Warren, after everything I and Mister LaVey have offered you, you now try to scurry away, to fight the inevitable.” Warren was shaking his head violently, the blade at his throat smearing blood. “You worm of a man, you filth, shall I get my boys to deal with you?” She gave out a laugh that on anyone else would sound sweet, but coming from her sounded cold and heartless.
The two men had watched the altercation with no sign of emotion on their tanned faces, now they smiled when Warren looked over at them. His head shook harder still, “You know what they are like, Robert gave himself willingly to them, I hear he still has trouble sitting down,” her smile widened as the two men laughed, their baritone voices aching Warren’s bones. “Imagine what they could do to someone less open.” She let the silence spool out, letting Warren’s imagination do the hard work.
Finally Miss Lansing lowered the blade from Warren’s throat, it had not dug deep but the skin had split and the man would probably not be able to shave for a while. She trailed her foot down his tie, smearing his blood as it went, finally coming to a stop at his groin. Miss Lansing pushed down with her foot feeling the soft mush of flesh beneath the trousers, “Do I not excite you Warren?” Warren looked at her questioningly then nodded sheepishly, his body jerking and spasming with adrenaline and fear. “Show me,” She sat back and placed the silver cigarette holder into her mouth.
With shaking hands Warren undid his trousers, the last thing on his mind was arousal, the two men behind him scared the life out of him, they could fight and they could do much worse to him than that. Miss Lansing was right, Robert had gone with them eagerly and willingly and they had used him up over the course of one night Warren could think of nothing worse right now than that. His penis protruded from his trousers, he swallowed hard and started to rub at the flaccid flesh mentally begging for it to become engorged.
After some trying his penis finally stood erect, Miss Lansing smiled and nodded her approval, her foot came out again and Warren gasped out loud as her foot rested then pushed down hard on his testicles, “Coward,” she spat from around the cigarette holder, “pathetic little worm of a cock, you and your inner circle cannot hope to fulfil what awaits you.” Warren nodded, another gasp followed as Miss Lansing applied more pressure before lifting her foot. “Finish yourself off.”
Warren went to work, his old cock gripped in his hand he worked his erect cock back and forth only too aware of how close the blade of the heel was to it, Miss Lansing watched with boredom. When they had first met she had offered herself to Warren, to the whole inner circle and they had gone willingly to her. What she had offered them was beyond their wildest dreams, they would do anything for her, and that was how she had seduced them all until it was now too late.
Warren now tried to think of his time with Miss Lansing with the others watching as he took her first, legs spread her sex moist and tight. He had acted like a school boy, quick and fast his mouth leaving trails of spittle across each breast as he fucked her furiously, he had been done within a few minutes and Miss Lansing had writhed with pleasure for every second he was in her, she was a good actress.
Miss Lansing delighted in the pain of others, not just physically but mentally to, she had dominated and made a slave of every single member of the inner circle, but they all went willing because of the reward…the reward. Warren groaned out, the memory of Miss Lansing, of her inner muscles working his cock, the taste of her nipples in his mouth finally bringing him to his orgasm,
Miss Lansing held one leather shoe out as the man’s cock pulsed and erupted, only a few measly drops of cum landed on her stocking clad toes and she looked at them with disappointment and at the main with distaste, her foot eased back and with a wicked smile she moved it forward, extending her leg, for a moment Warren caught a glimpse of her tattoo, the black ink wrapping around her sex, in the light it seemed to move of its own dark desire.
The foot travelled north stopping at Warren’s face, Miss Lansing raised her eyebrows and Warren opened his mouth his tongue coming out and flicking across her cum covered stocking toes, he hesitated looking at her for approval. Miss Lansing scowled and shoved her foot into his mouth, when she was satisfied he had done enough she removed her foot. “Tell the driver to take us back to Vandergilt Tower.”
The traffic was slackening up, power was restored to almost all of Gotham and people were finally moving. Warren stumbled out of the limousine fly done up but his blood stained shirt collar visible, the blood spreading as the rain found it. The limousine pulled away slowly joining the traffic with little hurry.
Miss Lansing had stared out the opposite window as Warren had left the car, she was done with him, she was done with the whole sorry lot of them…but that was not the plan, she gave her head a little shake a smirk on her full red lips, somehow Mr LaVey had orchestrated this, he was powerful she knew that but was he able to pull so many strings, or was it all guess work and luck. She could ask him, but then the answer might just be too much, she turned to her two bodyguards, a term she thought was sweet as she had no real need for them, “Find the Mannequin let him know it is time, I will inform Mister LaVey that his plan is going as he has foreseen it.”
Gotham Police Headquarters, Two Days Later
When the rain finally came to Gotham City it felt like God had finally decided to wash the city from the face of the earth. Hurricane Tilda had swept up the coast losing most of its devastating power as it pulled apart the coast on its circular ride up north. By the time it reached Gotham on Sunday evening all that was left of Tilda was strong gusts and torrential downpour of rain, the opening Thunder storm in the early hours of Monday morning had taken the city by surprise, streets flooded, sewers backed up and the transformer stations shorted out.
The city had been caught with her knickers down and had struggled for twenty four hours to pull them back up. It was now Wednesday and the rain had yet to show signs of abating, if Harvey Bullock was a religious man he would be wondering if the next biblical flood was on its way.
In truth Harvey Bullock did not mind at all, with the rain and backed up sewers doing a fine job of flooding road and pavement alike with little discrimination for car tyres or expensive shoes, people were staying indoors and that included the crooks which meant far less work for Harvey. He leaned back in his wooden office chair, the wooden joints groaning with his weight, or maybe that was the sound of his own joints it was difficult to tell nowadays.
His left hand moved the mouse on his table while his right hand rubbed at the rough patch of skin across one cheek, a little reminder of the Axis Chemical fire that he had so stupidly walked into a few months previously in the hunt for the biggest pain in his backside, only for said pain in the backside to go and save him from certain death. His eyes scanned the computer screen, a quick read of the first two lines before his pudgy finger clicked the mouse button and another page opened up, two lines read and he moved on.
Rosa had disappeared, so had her mother and with them went a large chunk of Harvey Bullocks slush fund from an account he had kept secret from Rosa, or so he thought. Harvey sighed his eyes closing briefly as he remembered their hurried goodbye at the train station, she had hugged him and given him the sweetest, most honest kiss he had ever received and then he had bundled her on the train, scared that at any moment one of Falcone’s snipers would send a bullet direct to her spine paralysing her for life or direct to her head finishing off Rosa for good.
“Hey Harv’ wake up,” Travis said putting a hot Styrofoam cup of coffee next to Harvey’s computer. Harvey sat up right his eyes popping open, “You look like shit!”
Harvey gave a smile, “Don’t hold back Travis, say at as you see it,” He grabbed the cup and gave a half-hearted blow across the black surface, it had no time to stop rippling before he took a burning sip, “Tastes as bad as it smells,” He grimaced as his partner Travis shook his head and took his seat opposite Bullocks desk and turned his own computer on, “Thanks,” Harvey offered.
Travis gave a small laugh, “I don’t think I am ever going to get used to this new you Bullock.” Travis had been amazed at the transformation in Bullock since the fire. Bullock had been a lazy, sloppy cop and one that, even when he denied it vehemently, was on the take. But since the fire he had changed and for the better, Travis had even found himself thinking of Bullock as one of the good guys, even Commissioner Gordon had added Bullock to his inner circle.
Harvey clicked off his current search, he had sent the images of Rosa and of her mother to the local law enforcement down in New Orleans and a friend at the FBI had even offered to put them in the system in case they ever popped up, each day Harvey checked his emails and every day was the same thing, zero, zilch, nothing.
Travis looked through his own emails and through the current cases and ongoing paperwork, with the rain never ending he knew he would get most of his reports written up by the end of the day which left him days of filing and refiling old cases or worse going down to the evidence locker and helping with the new system, he shuddered at the thought. Harvey remained quiet he held his coffee in one hand and stared listlessly out of the window.
Travis had known about Rosa, she was even good for Harvey in a messed up kind of way, after the accident she had split or so Harvey had said. He had taken a week off and travelled down to New Orleans to look for her but with no luck, Travis had offered to tag along but got rebuked. Harvey had come back empty handed and from what Travis could see, with a broken heart to boot.
Travis went to say something anything to end the silence that was now starting to drag out his mouth opened but, thankfully and to Travis’ relief Captain Akins got in first. Michael Akins had risen through the ranks from flat foot to detective to Captain in a few years. He was no flash in the pan he had worked each role mercilessly catching the eye of James Gordon on his rise to Commissioner a helping hand that dropped Akins into Gordon’s Captain’s seat when it became vacant. “If you gentlemen are not too busy I might have something for you.”
Harvey sat up straight his coffee cup discarded on the table, “What’s up Captain?” This was the other side of Harvey Bullock that was new, his determination and willingness to take on any case that came their way was refreshing and kept them both busy, but perhaps that’s why he did it Travis had often thought, to keep his mind off Rosa.
Akins placed a legal size sheaf of paper on Bullocks desk, “Patrol car responded to a four one five out at Park Row, when they got there they found an apartment open and one body.” Akins saw it as an open and shut case, domestic dispute turned bad the husband or boyfriend would be found within twenty four hours drunk or badly hung-over, arrested and sent to jail. And with Harvey Bullock taking any case that was coming his way, meant Akins could keep him off the cases that were revolving around the crime families. Gordon claimed the man had changed but Akins did not believe a single word of it.
It took almost an hour to reach Park row in the rain, two streets had been closed due to flooding which in turn had backed traffic up and caused chaos all the way down the line, by the time Bullock and Travis reached the apartment block neither was in the best mood. A flat foot met them at the door and quickly guided them into the building and up to the fifth floor. When the lift doors opened two more beat cops bared their way until they saw their badges and they were quickly let through.
“Forensics is stuck in traffic so is the morgue car,” the young officer said to them reading from his little notebook as they walked.
Bullock’s eyes scanned as they walked, heads straining to see what was happening were poking out of doors and a few brazen individuals stood outside their own apartments watching the scene further down the corridor. “You started knocking on doors yet?”
The officer stumbled over his words, “We were, well we were…”
Bullock dismissed him with a raised hand a gruff grumble, “Don’t worry about it, but get your backside and any other cop that’s standing around doing nothing canvasing this floor.” The officer nodded, even tried a salute that caught Travis as too comical, his barked laugh turning the young officers face a deep scarlet, “and get everyone to stay in their apartment, or face arrest.” Bullock added just loud enough for a few of the onlookers to overhear, they darted back inside their doors as soon as the words landed home.
In truth they should have waited for forensics to turn up but Bullock was in no mood to wait, God knows how long for them to arrive, he crouched under the yellow crime scene tape as he pushed it up over his head. It was dark in the apartment, all the curtains were closed, the lights off. “Who got the call? Who got here first?”
Mason Clarke raised his hand, “We got the call from dispatch and were first here,” Bullock and Clarke had crossed paths before, he knew the man was efficient and went by the book, “We knocked and the door opened, we were cautious, room by room we touched nothing,” the man moved uneasily from one foot to the other, “we found the woman in the bathroom,” his face paled slightly.
“Okay we’ll take it from here,” Travis replied thanking the officer. The walked down the hallway while they pulled their pocket flashlights out, it was all too tempting to turn the lights on but then any finger prints or trace would be ruined. “Did you see his face?”
Harvey nodded, the man was nervous and a little queasy at whatever waited for them in the bathroom, it was something when a street cop of Clarke’s years was made ill by a murder in Gotham City. The hallway opened into an equally dark lounge, no furniture had been upturned, no pictures or glass ware thrown, the kitchen was the same as was the bedroom and little office area, “Looks, normal,” Harvey muttered, they would start turning out drawers and cupboards once forensics was here until then it was a simple scouting party tactic. “Bathroom?” Harvey offered.
The Bathroom was tiled floor to ceiling in white, the air tinged with the smell of honeysuckle, like all the other rooms the lights were off and with no window it would have been close to pitch black except for the candles that were dotted around on the toilet, the sink and the lip of the bath itself. They were a mix of white, black and red candles all almost burnt down to the end of the wick, as both men stood there one black candle sputtered and died.
Even with one candle now out it did not hide the scene before them. The young woman was naked and lying spread eagle on the tiled floor. Her short blonde hair pressed against the bathtub, a mix of red, black and white wax had dripped down the side of the bath and had started to congeal on her head. Travis took a step back, breathing deeply, “Are you serious?” he said breathlessly. The woman’s chest cavity was open, cracked and peeled apart, her rib cage jutted outwards her cavity inky black.
Bullock tried to remain calm though his torch beam flickered back and forth as his hand shook with shock, he forced himself to look over the scene. His heart hammered away, the short blonde hair, the eyes he had seen them when she was eight years old, now he was seeing them how he hoped he would never have to, dead and lifeless. It had taken two days but he had finally found Laura Beth Vandergilt.
Bullock’s feet remained on the carpeted floor as if the doorframe was an invisible barrier that had stopped him proceeding. “You go wait for forensics Travis,” Bullock said turning his head but keeping his eyes in the bathroom. The shock was dissipating, his brain had triggered a suggestion that something was wrong with the scene he no longer saw just the body but the scene as a whole.
Bullock nodded when Travis replied in a mumble and started to move off, Bullock crouched down, he so wanted to walk in there to see the scene from different angles, as it was the forensic team would have a fit that he had walked through the scene with no shoe covers. The smell of honeysuckle was from one or two of the candles Bullock figured it was not trying to mask anything perhaps they were the only candles to hand.
The tiles were pristine, that’s when it hit him. His torch flicked around the body, Bullock was almost on his belly now trying to see beneath the body, looking into the grout that ran between the tiles looking for any sign of it, there was some but not as much as he would have expected, where was all the blood?
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A Gotham Tale: Harvey Bullock