Chapter Text
Unamused, Lee looks over a man in his twenties with a round face and sharp green eyes as he sat quietly in the interrogation room.
Adjacent, the equally unamused Edwin crosses his arms as he stares at the quiet man.
“Look, it’s early. No one wants to be here. We all want to go home. So, what’s it going to be?” Lee requests the man to give an explanation for the incident that happened this morning.
Unflinching, the man calmly explains, “I was stopping an evil doer.”
Baffled, Edwin brings up, “You used a potato canon. You can be held longer for using it in city limits. And on someone.”
Shaking his head, the man insists that he didn’t intend for his Canon of Justice to destroy a random car’s windshield.
“I don’t use guns,” the man insists.
Rubbing his throbbing lobe as he forces himself to keep his composure interrogating, Lee spat, “Whether you did or not, you caused trouble, and you’re lucky that guy only had a massive bruise.”
Insisting he only uses nonlethal means to stop the evil doer, the man expresses that he attempted to pacify the attempted car thief with words, but when the car thief didn’t heed him, he had no choice but to use his canon.
“You’re lucky you’re even alive. He had a piece. A 9mm. Do you even understand the gravity of this situation?” Edwin attempts to appeal the man’s sensibilities, but he continues playing hardball with the detectives.
Growing frustrated, Lee states, “Well, Batman, you’re going into lockup. Maybe your butler can post your bail by the afternoon.”
Unable to get a confession or a statement that would pass for muster, the detectives had no other choice but return one Caleb Greer, AKA the Shadow, back to his cell while they can figure out a recourse.
“I know we’re Gotham and all, but what gives with the whacko?” Edwin privately discusses their newest case of the week with Lee as they watch officers lead Caleb to the cells.
Exhaling sharply, Lee answers with an annoyed, “Eh, who the hell knows? All I know is I’m getting too old for this shit.”
Overhearing their conversation, Van Buren came towards them with confusion on her face as she questions the befuddled detectives about Caleb.
“Mr. Shadow thinks he’s doing New York good with his potato canon, leu, it’s a miracle no one got seriously hurt!” Lee mocked Caleb.
Scratching the side of his freshly shaved face, Edwin remarks, “Here I thought we saw everything! What do you want us to do?”
Stirring her coffee as she thinks, Van Buren sighs as she suggests the detectives talk to the victim of the assault, and whether he wants to press charges.
“A car thief getting sacked by a potato gun wanting to press charges getting assaulted by a potato. What silver age shit is this?” Lee snorts loudly at the thought.
Raising his finger, Edwin brings up, “Bronze age, Lee.”
Regardless, the detectives didn’t squabble further as Van Buren eyes them with irritation.
Their orders given; the detectives went out to the hospital where the would-be car thief laid in the bed with discomfort as his bruise remained raw to the touch.
“He in the clear?” Edwin asks the nurse after she led them to Nathan Sampson’s room.
Holding the clipboard, the nurse explains, “Hurts like hell, but he’s lucky it didn’t break a bone or puncture something.”
Other than a nasty bruise and sharp pains breathing, Nathan is expected to recover.
He’ll be sore for a few weeks, but that’s why he’s getting mild painkillers to alleviate it.
Thanking the nurse as she departs to check on other patients, the detectives stare at the groaning Nathan as he lays in the bed.
“This blows!” Nathan painfully coughs.
Rolling his eyes, Lee snorts, “Sounds like karma got you back trying to boost cars, again.”
Playing the good cop, Edwin appeals to Nathan to tell them his side of the story.
“Shouldn’t I have a lawyer for this?” Nathan groggily looks up at them.
Shrugging, Lee replies that Nathan has the right to a lawyer, before he questions how well a lawyer would work considering Nathan had standard carjacking tools on his person when the ambulance arrived.
“He assaulted me!” Nathan struggles to shout.
Keeping him calm, Edwin proceeds to ask for his story as he wrote everything down, and at the end, Nathan insists getting a lawyer.
“Now?” Lee snorts.
Annoyed, Nathan insists that he get one so he can sue for the pain and embarrassment caused by the vigilante.
Emphasizing this, the young man states, “Don’t I got rights?”
Sighing, Edwin answers, “Yeah, as far as we’re concerned, you haven’t been processed through the court and charged. Good luck.”
After getting Nathan’s statement and leaving his room, the detectives share a look with each other as they silently questioned what ended up in their laps this morning.
“You know, I don’t think this is the only vigilante,” Edwin gave a thoughtful insight.
Leering at him Lee sharply shushes him as he insists that Edwin keep it quiet, else they’re never getting a wink of sleep, again.
“Lee, name a time when we did,” Edwin counters.
Groaning, Lee admits Edwin was right, and they leave the hospital to continue this day of theirs.
At a Starbucks, Lee waits for his and Edwin’s orders after Edwin left for the bathroom.
On his phone, Lee scrolls the screen of different things that jumped at him the moment he unlocked it, and expectedly, he gets a call.
Holding his phone up to his ear, Lee sighs a disinterested, “Not now, geek, we’re in desperate need of caffeine.”
Appalled at their choice of Starbucks, Finch remarks that there are plenty of alternatives in the area for the detectives to get their caffeine fix.
“Ed has some rewards thing with them. We’re getting drinks free,” Lee insists that it wasn’t their first choice, but the lure of free drinks was enough to sway them.
Still disappointed, Finch inquiries about Lee and Edwin’s newest case.
Briefly looking up to see if their orders are called, Lee answers his and Edwin’s first foray into the comic book version of vigilantism.
“I see the camera footage, now. It is good no one was seriously injured,” Finch tells him.
Gritting his teeth, Lee then says, “You have no idea! I was tempted to convince the leu to send him to a mental hospital, but red tape. Our car thief wants to press charges.”
The only thing that made this even remotely bearable was that the Shadow, as he calls himself, willingly gave himself up when the police arrived.
“And I doubt the name he gave us is even real. You know, my dad always said kids wanted to inspire being Batman, Dick Tracy, Perry Mason, but this guy I ain’t sure what he’s trying to be!” Lee shakes his head in disbelief.
Growing up with comic books himself, Lee isn’t sure what the Shadow’s trying to replicate, but either way, the problem was still the same.
He committed a crime of assault and practicing vigilantism.
“Your partner isn’t wrong, our superhero might not be the only one in rotation,” Finch notes.
Groaning, Lee stresses, “Geek, I only got four hours. I’m already in a sleep deficit from hell.”
Finch assures him that he and the others will happily take a look into this case for them.
“Oh no. What are you angling?” Lee senses that this wasn’t out of altruism.
Acknowledging he was right; Finch admits that they were looking into some disappearances that caught the Machine’s attention.
“Fine. Just text me the names, I’ll see what I can dig out,” Lee rubs his tired eyes.
TO BE CONTINUED… The Janitor