“Listen, kid, this blazer of yours has been confirmed as a direct match to the piece we found at the scene,” Harvey said.
He leaned forward on the table, pressing both hands flat against the metal surface as he fixed his eyes on Justin Blake.
The kid’s shoulders hunched in on themselves, and despite his usual smug posture around the academy, right now he looked like a cornered animal.
“You’ve got to be making a mistake,” Justin said quickly, his words tumbling over each other.
“There’s no way.
I don’t even know who this guy is.” His voice pitched higher.
“I’ve never even been near someplace like that.
Why would I?
I wouldn’t step foot in some filthy dump.”
Renee, sitting beside Harvey, rolled her eyes at the snobbishness, resting her elbow on the arm of the chair.
Harvey’s scowl intensified.
“We’ve had an analyst compare the tear marks.
Ninety-eight percent accuracy, Blake.
That’s about as good as it gets.
We have evidence linking you directly to the crime scene, and you’re gonna sit here and tell me you know nothing?
I’ll tell you what, you keep stonewalling, and maybe I’ll let you spend the weekend in lockup to think about your story.”
Justin’s mouth opened, then shut again.
His gaze bounced between the two detectives.
“I don’t think there will be a need for that,” Renee said, breaking the tension slightly.
She leaned forward.
“Look, Mr.
Blake, this is a very serious matter.
Now, you don’t strike me as the kind of kid who would go out of his way to murder someone—”
“I’m not!” Justin said, cutting her off almost desperately.
“I really am not!”
“Exactly,” Renee replied, giving a small smile.
“But you have to admit, all this?
It’s not looking good for you.
Right now, we’ve got enough to charge you with third-degree murder.”
Harvey smirked faintly.
“Do you know what they do to good-looking boys like you upstate?”
Justin’s breathing quickened, his chest rising and falling as panic started creeping into his voice.
“I didn’t do it.
I didn’t!
I swear I didn’t!” His fingers curled into fists on the table.
His eyes darted toward the door as if searching for a way out.
“Calm down,” Renee said sternly.
“When we spoke to you at school, you told us you were alone between four and eight p.m.
that day.
That means you’ve got no alibi, and we have physical evidence tying you to the crime scene.
Justin…
you need to give me something if you want my help.”
Justin sat frozen, his mouth opening and closing without sound.
Harvey suddenly slammed his palm down on the table, the crack echoing off the interrogation room walls.
“Talk!”
“Alright!
I wasn’t alone!” Justin blurted out.
Sweat trickled down from his hairline and dotted his temple.
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Renee said, flipping open her notepad with deliberate calm.
“Where were you between those times?”
Justin shifted in his chair, staring down at the tabletop.
It took a long moment before he spoke.
“I was…
on a date.”
Renee’s eyebrows lifted slightly.
“Alright.
And who was the other person?”
“Nathan Lane…
he’s another student at Gotham Acadmey,” Justin muttered, almost like he regretted saying it the second it left his mouth.
Renee made a quick note that he was in the closet.
“And where was this date?”
“The private dance club at Gotham heights, The Astoria,” he said, looking as if he were ashamed.
Before she could follow up however, the door swung open.
A tall man in a charcoal suit strode in, he had a hard expression on his face, especially when he looked at the two detectives.
“What exactly do you two think you’re doing?
Interrogating my client before I arrive?
This is completely unacceptable.”
He stepped to Justin’s side, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s alright, Justin.
We’ll get this whole misunderstanding straightened out.”
Harvey leaned back in his chair and gave the man a slow once-over.
“Oh, great, they hired you…
still enjoying the money from Falcone?
Eh Tommy boy?”
The lawyer seemed to twitch with anger, but did well in keeping it hidden.
“Sofia Falcone you’ll find was ruled innocent at the trial by a jury of her peers, so I find it highly unprofessional for you to insinuate she is a criminal.”
Harvey snorted and looked to be about to offer a rebuttal.
“Harvey,” Renee said, shooting him a look that cut the jab short.
She closed her notepad and stood.
“We’ve got what we need for now.”
Harvey let out a grunt that might have been agreement and pushed back from the table.
Without another word, the two detectives made their way to the door.
Renee gave Justin one last look before stepping out into the hallway, leaving him alone with his lawyer.
Once outside the interrogation room, Renee and Harvey made their way back across the bullpen to their adjoining desks, each dropping the case files and Harvey’s battered notepad onto the cluttered surfaces.
Harvey collapsed into his chair, the springs groaning under him, and ran both hands over his face before leaning back with a slow exhale.
“Damn it…” he muttered, the frustration plain in his voice.
“What a waste of time,” Harvey grumbled.
“You don’t think he’s guilty?” Renee asked, a little sarcasm in her tone as she flipped through the pages of the file.
Harvey gave a short chuckle.
“Give me a break.
That boy would pass out at the first sight of blood.
Hell, he probably still gets his dinner cut up for him.”
That drew a faint chuckle from Renee.
“Alright, so what’s next?”
“Still need to confirm the alibi with the Astoria,” Harvey said, tapping his notepad with a pen.
“I’ll shoot a message over to Judge Harrison and get a warrant for their CCTV and guest records.”
“And after that?”
“All we can really do is follow up on the client list.
That’s the big one.”
Renee nodded.
“We’ve got the size of the blazer.
I can have the School Records pull every student who fits that size and get us a shortlist.”
“Yeah…” Harvey said absently, his eyes unfocused, his mind clearly somewhere else.
“Yo, Bullock, what’s your problem?” Renee asked, nudging the base of his chair with her boot.
Harvey blinked, snapping out of whatever track his mind had been on.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.
“I keep thinking about that kid.”
“Which one?”
“The one in the science lab, Ethan Kane.”
“What about him?” she asked, taking a sip from her coffee cup.
Harvey shook his head.
“I don’t know.
I just got a gut feeling.”
“You think he’s our guy?”
“I can’t say for sure.
No alibi, lives close by…
but we’ve got nothing solid tying him to the scene.”
Renee considered that.
“His parents could’ve been involved with Creedence.
That’d give him a link, even if indirect.”
“He’s a better suspect if you put it like that,” Harvey admitted.
“But it’s all circumstantial at best.
Unless I can prove he was there, it would never hold up.
Thing is, in my time on the job, I’ve met a lot of people, specifically some very bad people, and they all have one thing in common.”
“What’s that?”
“They can stay calm under pressure.
I’m not talking about keeping a straight face.
I mean completely detached, like they’re watching the situation happen to someone else.
Most people, especially kids, crack a little when they’re sitting across from cops.
Their body language shifts, their voice cracks, they sweat.
But that kid?” Harvey shook his head.
“He talked to us like we were just two people making small talk.”
“Maybe he was confident in his innocence?” Renee commented with a shrug.
Harvey snorted.
“Tell me one other kid we interview that wasn’t at least a little nervous speaking to us, who else was that calm?”
“Now that you mention it…” Renee said slowly.
“I can’t think of anyone else being that calm.”
But it’s still a gut feeling,” Harvey said.
“We stick to the other leads first.
One of them’s bound to lead us to something.”
Renee nodded, but before she could say more, a uniformed officer approached their desks.
“Detectives, Commissioner Gordon wants to see you,” she said.
“Thanks Irene,” Renee replied, rising from her chair.
Harvey heaved himself up with a grunt, and together they made their way down the hall to Gordon’s office.
Inside, the blinds were half-drawn, slanting light across stacks of paperwork on the Commissioner’s desk.
Gordon was bent over a report, the man looked almost as haggard as they did.
He looked up as they stepped inside.
“Bullock.
Montoya.
Have a seat.”
“Hey, Jim,” Harvey said, dropping into a chair, without even so much as a salute.
“How you holding up, Harvey?” Gordon asked.
“Oh, you know,” Harvey replied with mock cheer, “Living the dream.
Bad coffee, worse takeout, same shitty wage.”
Gordon smirked and turned his attention to Renee.
“What about you Montoya, how’s it working with that lump as a partner?”
Renee smiled faintly.
“He’s not too bad.”
“Good.” Gordon leaned back.
“So, where are we on the case?”
“Not great,” Harvey said plainly.
“But it’s still early.
We’ve got some leads to work, should have more to go on soon.”
Gordon gave a short nod, then reached for a file on the corner of his desk and tossed it onto the table between them.
“I hate to drop this on you in the middle of that, I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think it was connected to your case.”
Harvey pulled it toward him and flipped it open.
“Ah, shit…”
“What is it?” Renee leaned in to look.
“Eric Davis.
Aka ‘The Apostle,'” Gordon said, sitting back in his chair.
“Metahuman.
Abilities unknown.
Claims he’s God’s chosen.”
Gordon continued, “He’s been around a long time.
Bounced between a few different gangs over the years.
Me and Bullock have crossed paths with him before, but we never managed to catch him, he’s good at lying low and has enough connections that he’s protected pretty well.”
“You think he’s our killer?” Renee asked.
Gordon shook his head.
“Not exactly.
You see the building overlooking the alley where Creedence was murdered was broken into after the murder we are still trying to confirm what time.
Four apartments were hit.
Three people dead.
The fourth managed to survive and as well as a description they managed to hand over footage from a nanny cam, it caught Davis’s face clear as day.”
“Shit, it really is him,” Harvey said, looking at the attached photos.
“Fucker looks as old as you, Jim.”
“If he’s not the killer, you think he’s working with Iron Row?” Renee asked, her eyes narrowing.
Gordon nodded.
“Most likely.
Survivor says he kept pressing her about what happened in that alley.
That tells me he’s digging for someone, and if Iron Row’s involved someone like Eric Davis then this isn’t good.”
“Great.
So he’s working for Iron Row.” Harvey rubbed his face.
“That’s ruined my whole damn day, and I was already having a particularly shit one.”
“One of you keep working the case,” Gordon said firmly.
“But I want one of you to take point on Davis.
He’s a higher-level threat than your current suspect.”
“I’ll take him,” Harvey said immediately.
“That’s fine,” Renee said.
“I’ll track down Creedence’s last known residence and see if I can turn up a client list.”
“Good,” Gordon said.
“Then I won’t keep you.
You’ve both got work to do.”
(AN: Iron Row is a made up gang, and these are mostly OC’s but yeah don’t worry canon characters are coming.
Anyway hope you enjoyed.)
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