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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
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The Hexagon Room,
They were the Six, there had been six at the start in 1800, there had been six ever since. When Gotham City had begun to rise the six had gathered, swore their oaths and left their born faiths behind. As the years went on their finger prints could be seen on much of Gotham, moulding its streets, its architecture and its laws. They had laughed at the Court Of Owls, allowed them to have their time while they remained in the shadows a mystery to the court.
Gotham grew quick as the six grew old and were replaced one by one. New oaths were sworn and new brothers and then sisters were welcomed to the six, the group swallowed other groups around them, their tentacle like grasp pulling them in, digesting them and making them part of the whole with the six remaining in control but elusive.
The current six, now stood in silence, naked except for the long red cloak that each one wore the hood covering their heads but their faces visible to the others. In the centre of their circle stood Miss Lansing a sad look on her face as she turned appraising the group. For the last few decades the six had become a game, the rites and passages a folly, their followers the Acolytes nothing more than sexual carrion for them. That was until Miss Lansing and Mr LaVey had appeared.
“There must be another way, another like Laura Beth,” Phillip Paulson said exacerbated his arms reaching out pleading as Miss Lansing’s eyes fell on him. “This group should not be punished for the weakness of one,” his steely grey eyes shifted for a moment to Warren Vandergilt as he spoke.
The news of Laura Beth Vandergilt’s death had come a few hours earlier, the group had remained behind after their acolytes had left, the small council, this inner circle had much to discuss. Warren knew that Laura Beth had been killed because of his doubts, though how Phillip and no doubt the rest of the group had found it Warren could not say. He lowered his head instead, not wanting to meet Phillips eyes.
Miss Lansing stepped forward she raised one hand and cupped Phillips face gently, a soft smile on her black lips, “Of course there are others, but we must be cautious now,” she patted his cheek then stepped away, she turned in a full circle. Just like the six she was naked except for a red cloak her hood though was down, her black hair loose cascading over her shoulders reaching to her full breasts and nipples. “The police will find her body,” there was a ripple of concern, “but we will not be found out I assure you.”
Phillip jabbed a finger in Warren’s direction, “They will speak to him, that detective will rip him to shreds trying to find answers,”
“He must leave the group,” Hillary Blatton said out loud, her face an oval of fear her doughy cheeks red, “it is dangerous for him to remain here as our leader.”
Warren was not too sure if anyone else had seen it, but he had caught the glance between Phillip and Hillary, she looked at him the way a dog would, searching for acceptance, for a trace of congratulations in a job well done. “I am still One,” Warren said and he took a step forward into the circle, Miss Lansing rounded on him, her jaw clenched tight, “I am still the architect of the inner circle and I will not go so quietly.”
Phillip gave a bark of a laugh, “No you will go with a whimper, go flee to your detective lap dog let him save you if he can.” Phillip placed his hands on his hips as he spoke, his erect cock pulsing in front of him. He wanted the group to see him, to see his mighty erection and hear the power in his voice, he had always wanted to be One, to be the architect this was nothing more than a power play.
Warren’s body surged with anger, “Let me remind the group of how quickly and how loudly you withdrew your support for Grand Mother and her plan,” Phillip opened his mouth to reply but Warren gave him no chance, “foolish you said, deceptive you called Grand Mother. The gift of immortality and vast power were a con you said.”
Phillip looked about the group seeking friends, his eyes landed on Hillary, his eager lap dog, the woman who was willing to do anything to please him but amongst the group she was weak, his eyes roamed further and found clouded eyes and judgemental stares, “I asked for caution,” he said his voice quivering, “for one hundred years this inner circle has been alive, our rites built on possibility and hope, Grand Mother arrived and gave us those possibilities and those hopes, I asked for caution in case we were being tested.”
Warren could see the man weakening, his cock was still erect and he smiled to himself finding the amusement in the man’s use of Viagra. Warren summoned his inner strength, his heart was broken he felt more dead than alive but he had to do this, he had to remain here as One or risk losing everything. “I call you a coward Two, I call you deceitful.” Now Warren was erect, his cock rigid before him, the foreskin pulled back his cock head a swollen bulb on top. The others knew, he could see it on their faces, he heard a giggle to his right a hand flew to someone’s mouth to hide the mirth in realising that Phillip had taken a pill to get an erection. “My daughter is dead, yet I can still be truthful before the Grand Mother while you hide behind chemical stimulation.”
Miss Lansing appraised both men, her eyes searched theirs a half smile on her lips as she did so, “We have no time for this folly,” she said her mind made up, “One, it is your group, if you deem it remove Two otherwise this petty argument ends now.”
“No,” Phillip shouted out suddenly.
Leaving the six due to age and poor health was one thing, you were cared for, idolised until your final day and then remembered for all eternity. But to be removed from the group, one did not just leave and continued to exist. Wealth would dwindle, contracts cancelled, trouble would follow trouble until a terrible accident would end it all or perhaps taking of your own life did the job quicker, death was the only solution in the end.
“He stays, we six must remain strong now,” Phillip visibly sagged, a sob escaping his lips. Warren took in his group as he spoke, “I was weak, I had doubts in Grand Mother and Grand Father and I, no we paid the price for that,” He finished turning and faced Miss Lansing, “Never again.” He knelt down, his face mere inches from Miss Lansing’s sex, his stomach tightened as he stared at her tattoo, it writhed about in slow movements almost indiscernible were the motions that to many they would have blinked and assumed they were seeing things but Warren knew better. “I am your One.”

The group disbanded, each going their own way, perhaps home or to a business meeting beyond the hexagon room they were their own selves neither discussed the Six or the Acolytes life it seemed was the normal hum drum, run of the mill. Warren left the mansion and as he stood waiting for his car he fished his mobile phone from his pocket, so far no call, perhaps the police had yet to find Laura Beth, he would have laughed if it had not been so tragic.
Warren was oblivious to the rain that fell around him, his hair soaking through to his scalp, his tailored suit gaining weight as the water soaked into the wool, it was only when the rain abated did he notice it. He looked up hoping to see the glimmer of blue sky and sun instead he discovered a black umbrella held above him.
The owner of the Umbrella was female, she held it over Warren with an outstretched arm, almost on tip toes, “Nothing yet?” Elizabeth Grinshaw asked noticing the lit up screen of his mobile. Only two women made up the Six, Hillary was rich and intelligent but out of her depths in the group, she had been a mistake. Elizabeth on the other hand was the opposite, she ran homeless shelters around Gotham, she lived a modest life yet within the six she could move heaven and earth. Her father and Grandfather had been part of the six in their lives and Elizabeth was naturally brought in.
Warren shook his head, “It is this waiting that is hurting the most,” Laura Beth was dead, Miss Lansing had told him that evening, she had come to him quietly and with such remorse that had stunned Warren. She had sat him down, spoke to him and held him as the man had wept quietly. But outside now, he could not show any remorse, the police would be questioning him and others and if they knew he had been weeping her death prior to finding out…
“I’m here if you need me,” Elizabeth said, she hugged him awkwardly, the man felt like stone beneath his expensive suit, the show of emotion unable to break the armour.
“Thank you Elizabeth, but…” the phone in his hand rang and Warren’s world ground to a halt.

Laura Beth Vandergilt’s Apartment
Forensics tried to tear Bullock a new one with regards foot covers, but he waved them off as he always did, when the young guy refused to take the rather rude responses as good enough answers Bullock had ripped the shoes from his feet and shoved them in an evidence bag for the kid. He needed a new pair anyway.
Richard Compton was the senior investigator and he had watched the little sideshow with a lopsided smile on his face, “He’s young, give him time Harvey,” Both men walked slowly through the apartment, their destination was the bathroom.
Bullock shook his head, “He’s not even old enough to shave and he’s working a crime scene?” Bullock was amazed at how young the Gotham City Police department was becoming, it was making him feel more and more obsolete.
“He’s working under me Harvey, it is not like he has the whole scene to himself,” Compton replied back unable to hide his smile now. Both men quickly got to business, Harvey walked him Richard around the apartment saving the bathroom to last, behind them Compton’s forensic boys went to work photographing measuring and dusting. “That’s disturbing,” Compton said seeing the body his voice casual though clipped. Compton handed Bullock a pair of gloves and they both stepped into the bathroom. Compton dropped to his haunches as he pulled on the blue gloves, his lips moved as some internal monologue played out, the lighting inside the bathroom as good but Compton produced his own little torch turning it on and readying it.
Bullock remarked on the lack of blood, Richard nodded slowly in agreement, “There is some, but not as much as you would expect from such an act,” Richard said to himself more than to Bullock, “Body moved here perhaps…” he prodded gently at one dead foot, “heavy to lift and move up here with no one seeing though…”he peered into the cavity his torch beam moving about as he took in what was visible “that’s interesting.” He exclaimed. “All of the victim’s vital organs have been removed.”
Bullock found he was holding his breath when he peered into the woman’s cavity. He refused to look away even as his body tried to force his head to turn. To Bullock it just looked like a mess of gore, he finally looked away “I’ll take your word on that one Dick.”
Compton smiled grimly to himself, “It is interesting because they really have taken almost everything, heart, lungs, liver…intestines missing too.” He looked up, “Sometimes I can put this down to organ harvesting but not this one.” He bit his lip as the torch beam moved about, alighting where the liver should have been, finding a mess where the lungs would have rested, “Very sharp knife, single motion in severing each organ, no other tool marks…so maybe removed by hand.”
Bullock took a deep breath and forced himself to look again, “Cause of death?”
Compton dropped from his haunches to his knees, he lifted one arm examined the wrist then turned it to face Bullock, “This is why there is not much blood, wrist slit vertically, the other wrist is probably the same.” Next he moved to the girls head, he gingerly moved her head to one side and then nodded to himself, “Look there at the jugular,” Compton pointed to two raised open wounds, “Opened the jugular too.”
“She bled out,”
Compton held a hand up, a little smile on his lips the man enjoyed his job a little too much. He directed Bullocks attention to Laura Beth’s ankles, “Bruising here and here, she was tied up, I would go as far as saying she was hung upside down and then bled out, whoever did this more than likely gathered her blood.”
“So they got her blood, removed her organs then brought her back here with no one seeing anything?” Bullock asked.
“Well not quite, you missed the part where they cleaned her up.” Bullock looked at the man quizzically, “Lean in smell her skin, she’s been washed with basic soap but she’s been washed clean before they opened her up.”
“Washed any evidence away you mean?” Bullock rubbed his head, this case was getting worse as time went on, any chance of trace of the perp’ or of the original location had been washed down the drain somewhere.
Compton shrugged, “Maybe, maybe not. Let me get her back to my office and I can do a thorough check, chances are they left something inside or underneath her by accident.” Compton pulled his blue latex gloves off and tapped at the sweat that made his face slick with a handkerchief, it was the only sign that the man was shook up by the corpse. “I can get a DNA match going as well, run her face through missing persons I can get you a name in a few hours maybe.”
Bullock shook his head as both men stood up, Compton waved to two paramedics who stood waiting as they left the bathroom. “No need, I already know who she is,” Compton raised his eyebrows at this, “Laura Beth Vandergilt.”
“As in Vandergilt Business Empire,” Compton asked and Bullock nodded, “Well before you go and make that call let me just get one hundred percent confirmation before you tell some poor soul to come identify his dead daughter.”
Bullock was still shoeless as he stood near the apartment’s revolving doors watching the black zip lock body bag being hauled into the back of the morgue van. He and Travis had hardly spoken once they were out of the apartment “you okay Travis, you seem a little…” Bullock shrugged to complete what he was asking.
Travis watched the morgue van pull off at a leisurely pace the windscreen wipers working vigorously to keep the downpour of rain at bay. “This city is getting too crazy for me Harv’” Travis muttered his eyes following the van as it weaved through traffic, finally disappearing around one corner.
“Well as long as the two of us are still fighting the good fight we can make it less crazy,” Harvey said as he started to type a number into his phone, he failed to see the look Travis gave him, a look of resignation that there was nothing neither of them could do. “Warren? It’s Harvey here.”

The line was loud with the sound of rain falling heavy on an umbrella, “Harvey I was starting to wonder if you had forgotten about me,” the man said cheerfully. “Tell me you have an update, I checked Laura Beth’s account yesterday and she drew two hundred dollars near,”
“Warren, we found her,” Bullock said cutting into the conversation, it was like taking off a band aid it was best done short and fast. “I need you to come down to the morgue,”
Elizabeth remained quiet, she could see it in Warren’s face, the ways his eyes closed shut, the way his throat worked, they had finally found her and Warren no longer had to hide his feelings. “The morgue, Christ bullock what are you trying to tell me?” tears found their way from his closed eyes they rolled down his cheeks as his voice cracked. “I’m on my way.” He finally said and clicked the phone off with a hard jab of his finger.
Elizabeth dropped the umbrella, the man came to her willingly and he cried on her shoulder, his arms around her holding her tight. They stayed that way even as a yellow cab pulled up followed seconds later by Warren’s city car, both drivers waited patiently even in their cars, through the rain they could see something was not quite right.
Warren broke the hold first, he took deep breaths getting himself under control, “Sorry,” he said, and Elizabeth was unsure if he was saying sorry for holding her or for the show of emotion. “I need to go and see this through,” his voice grew stronger with each word, until he nodded his head, telling himself that everything was normal again.
“If you need me, for anything, just call.” Elizabeth said as the man walked down the steps and into his car. The car disappeared down the gravel driveway and around a small bend, Miss Lansing joined Elizabeth on the steps, her red hood now up holding back the rain, the cloak pulled tight around her, beneath with Elizabeth knew she would have her corset on, breasts naked for the world to see if she so wanted to. “He worries me,”
Miss Lansing nodded, “he will do what is right for the group,” she replied.
Elizabeth was not so sure now, she turned her head facing her Grand Mother, “and after that?”
Miss Lansing shrugged, she stood next to the woman who should have been the groups One, her grandfather and father had both held that title, it was only right that Elizabeth held it too, perhaps it was not too late. “Mister LaVey has told us to wait. Something wonderful is going to happen soon Elizabeth, and we will be witnesses to it.”

G.C.P.D
“Nothing,” Harvey grumbled, leaning back in his chair the report now closed on his desk. He had read it front to back three times, and each time he was left with the same conclusion, they knew the victim but they had nothing on the killer. The apartment had nothing but the prints of Laura Beth Vandergilt, nothing was out of place, broken or unusual, her autopsy had also given them nothing other than what they already knew, Laura had died slowly from massive blood loss.
Harvey’s shirt was a crumpled mess, his tie had been discarded on the back of his chair, his rough hand across his chin rasped with the beard growth, he felt dirty and tired but he would not be able to go home or to Rosa’s apartment tonight. The case was bugging him more than it should and if he were in Rosa’s apartment he would just be surrounded by her ghost and that really would not help.
Harvey opened his eyes, forcing himself to look outside at the lit up night skyline of Gotham city, with his eyes closed he could see Warren, see his skin turn grey, his mouth going slack as he took in the face of his dead daughter. It needed to be done, they needed confirmation of who they were dealing with, and to set up lines of enquiry, but Harvey also needed to see Warren’s reaction.
Ever since their meeting at Vandergilt tower Harvey had felt something was off with the missing girl, it was a feeling he just could not shake. Harvey had caught onto the notion that perhaps Warren was involved, finding the body had cemented an idea firmly in Harvey’s head that Warren was involved in her killing, seeing his reaction had laid that line of enquiry to bed…so why was it still niggling at him?
His phone beeped on his desk and Harvey picked it up, he noticed the time first a little after two in the morning now, he clicked on the text message, Travis was checking up on him. Which meant Travis was finding it difficult to sleep, the discovery of the body had shook both men up, something like that never gets any easier but it had spooked Travis far more.
Harvey went to reply, he had type almost four words before he hit delete and absentmindedly tossed the small mobile phone back onto his desk, his hands found the crime scene report again, he flicked it open, the words were blurring together the photographs offered him a window into the apartment.
For a moment he was there, in the apartment he knew a cop was on the other side of the front door, leaning on it using his mobile phone to text his girlfriend. The apartment was pitch black but ghost Harvey could see everything as if it were bathed in pure daylight, the feeling was overwhelming and Harvey jerked backwards almost sending his chair sliding out from underneath him, “fell asleep you idiot,” Harvey scolded himself, a part of him whispered he had not been asleep though.
“What did you miss?” Harvey asked out loud, the night shift crew looked up from their desks, then hunkered back down when they realised it was only Harvey talking to himself. That was why he was still here at two in the morning, why he kept going back to the reports, why his dream (‘not a dream’ a voice whispered) took him back to the apartment.
Harvey closed the report and tucked it under his arm as he got up and left his desk as he walked he flipped open his mobile and dialled a simple five digit number followed by the hash button and hit call, he had been made to remember it and told only to use it when it was an emergency. To Harvey’s surprise the line connected but only silence greeted him, he left the address then hung up, he only hoped it worked.

Park Row, Apartment 511
At the apartment there was only one cop now on night duty, he was leaning against the wall next to Apartment five eleven, in his hand held close to his face was his mobile phone. By the shine of his shoes Harvey had him pegged for a fresh faced rookie, as he got closer and the kid fumbled with his phone Harvey knew for sure he was right. “Relax kid,” he held up his shield a little longer than Harvey normally would but he knew the kid would be looking for signs of it being a fake. “We’ve all been in your position, but back in my day we did not have mobile phones just Playboy.”
He sent the rookie off to get a cup of coffee, he was too green to even question why Bullock wanted into the crime scene, he had been caught off guard and would do whatever the senior detective wanted him to just to keep his job. Bullock closed the apartment door behind him, even though the body was now long gone he still got goose bumps. The apartment was deathly silent, even the sound of traffic outside seemed unusually drowned out, it was all in his head but damn it that did not make things any easier.
Harvey stopped in the lounge, his coat dripped the rain water onto the carpeted area, he turned in a full circle ears listening out for the slightest of sound to give away that someone else was here, in the end he gave up “you here?”
Without a sound a figure as black as the shadows around it moved forward, the pointed ears came into relief against the dour painted walls, the body armour, sleek and deadly at odds with the tattered settee and chipped coffee table. “You took your time?” Batman said. It had been months since both men had stood so close, the alleyway behind the strip club had been a lifetime ago, Harvey was now using life number two to right the wrongs he had made, and now with Batman as an ally he hoped it would be easier.
“Well I am not as fit as you, plus I still have to use the door like regular people.” Harvey caught the quick glimpse of a smile on Batman’s mouth that, like its owner slipped away smoothly. “I need your help on this.” Harvey produced the file and held it out in Batman’s direction.
“Laura Beth Vandergilt, murdered with no witnesses and no current suspects,” Batman said, Harvey went to ask how in hell he knew that but the answer would never come. “You think your crime scene boys have missed something?”
Harvey nodded, “I need to be certain is all, call it a hunch if you like.”
Batman seemed to drift into his own world, he would move a few steps in one direction his head would move left to right, up and down and he would whisper or mumble something before moving on. Harvey left him to it while he started to open the drawers in the kitchenette. He fumbled under the drawers, lifted them from their slides checking their backs, his fingers were becoming smudged with the dust the crime scene guys had used earlier in the day.
Harvey joined Batman in the living room, the masked man was stood over a large opaque green bowl, and Harvey noticed it was full of matchboxes as he approached. Batman held one out to Harvey, an outline of Texas on the cover and a motel name emblazoned over the top of it. “She liked to travel,” Batman said.
“When her parents split up she kind of went travelling for a few years,” Harvey dropped the matchbox back in and reached in pulling out a random selection. He held a mishmash of matchboxes and matchbooks, the covers cheaply designed and all for motels. Laura Beth had travelled across America there was no doubt about it, the first three boxes he put back had travelled from Whitefish Montana, Great Bend Utah and Hohenwald Tennessee. The last box was quite beaten, the matchbook hardly in one piece he went to dump this back in the bowl but he found himself holding it a moment longer, the seagull on the front smiling up at him. “Seagull’s rest Motel, Florida.”
“Ring a bell?” Batman asked.
Harvey shook his head, “Not a single one,” he tossed the matchbook back into the bowel and headed for the bedroom.
Like the rest of the apartment it was neat and clean, a little worn out here and there but it was cheaply rented and like the previous room nothing seemed out of place. “The call came through saying there was a disturbance,” Harvey said as he started to move around the room slowly, Batman was stood still his head moving slowly around, Harvey knew that in that mask was not just a human but a whole bunch of gadgets working away. “We did the whole building, no one says they heard a thing and no one admits to calling the cops.”
“You think the killer called it in,” Batman replied, it was not a question it was a fact, one that the police were now certain was the case.
Harvey was nodding, “We have the recording but no matches so far,” He came to a stop near the wardrobe, he pulled the doors apart. The clothes that were in here were now gone, taken away for analysis. Bullock tapped the back panel and closed the doors. He went to walk over to the dressing table when he noticed the laminate flooring. He knelt down, his flashlight shining across the dull imitation wood surface. Near the left edge of the wardrobe Harvey picked out a scuff mark as if the wardrobe had been moved. “Got something I think, wardrobes been moved.”
He felt the weight of Batman behind him, “It’s a fitted wardrobe, attached to the wall not very moveable.”
Harvey stood up and went to the left of the wardrobe, he leaned his head against the wall, his torch beam playing along the surface, the marks were faint “Scuff marks here too, that things been moved and often.”
Batman took a step back, his hand going to his mask, “Something is behind there, an opening of some sort.” Both men moved round to the right, their shoulders against the wardrobe, with alarming ease the large unit moved to the left as they pushed.
The opening was a little less than six feet high and only went about a foot back. Both men stared at the contents. A small wooden shrine, a dark wood oiled even darker upon which sat a selection of burnt out and half used candles. A ceramic bowl, chipped and the glaze dulled with time sat in the centre of the small shrine, though it was empty the inside was stained a dirty brown a tide mark running around the half way mark of the bowl.
Harvey was quick, he reached into his coat and pulled out a few home cotton swabs and a handful of sandwich bags, he wiped one cotton swab inside the bowl and sealed it inside one bag, he followed it up with another. “What is that on the wall?” Harvey asked as he noticed the odd design.
“It’s been defaced, someone’s tried to scrub it away,” Batman said, “I might be able to get a clearer image hang on.” Batman was silent for a moment as he went to work, finally he spoke up again, “There is a design back there, like nothing I have seen before, very intricate, archaic perhaps.”
Harvey’s phone vibrated in his pocket, he pulled it out and saw a photo message from an unknown number, when he opened it the image from the shrine was clearly visible, “neat trick,” Harvey offered. “What are we looking at? Are those tentacles?”
The image was huge the night sky was visible, what looked like six pillars with writing of some type filling each pillar, next to each pillar was a stick man figure. All around were creatures, grotesque and deformed in some way, at first Harvey thought they were fighting but he had a feeling that perhaps they were mating. All these figures were above a deep curved hole, it was here that the tentacles were amassing, either side of the hole was more writing and what Harvey assumed were runes of some type. “What does it say?”
“This is beyond even me Harvey,” Batman replied.
“So we got a shrine, some demon type thing inscription and a dead girl missing her organs? And I thought this was going to be a tough case.” Harvey said flippantly but feeling anything but at that very moment.
“I will look into this see what we can come up with.” Batman said as they stared at the shrine and wall, Harvey could tell the man was just as perplexed as he was on this one.
Batman left the way he had come in, one moment he was there the next he had slipped into shadows and disappeared. Harvey suspected the fire escape, but did not want to ruin the trick he had grown to enjoy the man’s vanishing tricks over the last few months now that he was not trying to catch Batman.
Outside the apartment the rookie officer handed Harvey a Styrofoam cup of coffee, Harvey took it gratefully and sipped then chugged the warm black liquid, he had started the case with nothing but atleast now he had something, even though he was not too sure what that something was, the answer lay in the diagram, get they figured out then all the doors would open.
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A Gotham Tale: Harvey Bullock