Detective Draccon had warned him that Madeleine would try to manipulate him. She was probably right, too. But something about the girl’s tone…You have a heavy heart, for someone with everything.She had said those words in a familiar way, as if something from her past weighed her down, too. What had she once lost? Draccon hadn’t said much to him about Madeleine’s past, or who her family might be. What if there was more to Madeleine’s words than Draccon knew?
A cheer went up from the crowd, momentarily distracting him. The band was taking the stage, and the microphone squealed as the lead singer cleared his throat. Dianne cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted a song request, while Harvey jostled her aside to yell out his own choice. As the band began to play, the crowd joined in on the chorus.
Bruce just listened as everyone around him sang along, his gaze fixed on his friends. They made it seem so easy to get close, to take down their walls and justbe.The feeling of aloneness came to Bruce again, the realization that he might never be able to let down his guard in the way that they could. There was Harvey—clean-cut, law-abiding, determined to do the most good from inside the system. And Dianne, the product of a large, loving family, simply had faith in the system altogether.
But what if the system just needed help? In every mystery he’d ever read, the police always stayed one step behind the hero. What if taking things into his own hands was theonlyreal way to fix everything?
He clapped along to the second song, trying not to grimace at how bad it was, until he was sure that Harvey and Dianne had both turned their attention entirely to the concert. Then, when a track came on that got everyone jumping to their feet, Bruce rose and started edging through the crowd. Dianne cast him a brief glance as he went.Bathroom,he mouthed at her, before continuing on.
Beyond the park, the evening streets were surprisingly quiet. It seemed as if everyone within a one-mile radius of the concert had either decided to attend or completely avoided the area, leaving the sidewalks empty. A cool breeze blew past, bringing with it the scent of the ocean and a raw, pungent smell of underground sewage.
Bruce straightened his blazer and the hoodie underneath it, then pulled the hood over his head. The bats of Gotham City were out in force tonight; when he paused to look up, he could see a colony of them circling along the horizon, eager to start their evening hunt. He quickened his steps as the light faded completely from the sky, until only pools of streetlight illuminated the road.
Finally, he stopped at the corner of the intersection, right under the signs that saidEASTHAMandWICKER, and studied each of thebuildings.
Nothing seemed remarkable, at least at first glance. The cluster of police cruisers and blockades were long gone, the broken glass and bullet shells cleared from the streets, and it seemed almost as if nothing unusual had happened here. But the skid marks on the ground remained—deep black angry lines—and the Bellingham building still bore the charred scars from the explosion and fire. A maze of wooden scaffolding now covered up most of what had been damaged, new windows and bricks in a half-finished state, and a chain-link construction fence draped with black tarp now surrounded the property, hiding the bottom floor from view.
He walked slowly around the corner, taking in the details and remembering what had happened here. The police blockade, the speeding getaway car. The gunfire, the explosion that destroyed the building.
The Nightwalkers destroy their victims’ legacies.
Bruce stopped when he made his way to the intersection, then turned. Here, he could finally see the name of the storefront painted on the brick lining the second story:BELLINGHAM INDUSTRIES & CO.
He crossed the street and made his way over to the building. Above the chain-link fence, he could see the chips in the brick that had worn away over time, the history embedded in the walls of this place. He walked quietly along the barrier, searching for something,anything,that might be unusual. The minutes ticked by.
Until a voice from behind startled him.
“Bruce.”
Bruce whirled to come face to face with Dianne.
He let out a breath and leaned against his knees. “For chrissakes!” he swore. “Could you have been a little quieter about following me?”
“I’mthe one who surprised you?” she exclaimed, holding her arms out wide and answering with a swear in Tagalog that he couldn’t understand.She really is upset,he thought. “What the hell areyoudoing here?”
Bruce sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Is Harvey with you?”
“I made Harvey save our spots. Now, tell me what’s going on with you. You’re attacking Richard, you’re wandering off alone to the crime scene where you got into trouble—come on, Bruce!”
“Nothing. I’m just taking a look.”
He met her withering glare. Bruce could tell from the light in her eyes that she already knew he was hiding something from her—it was far past the point when he could continue keeping secrets. Besides, she’d already caught him sneaking around.
“Fine.” Bruce crossed his arms. Taking a deep breath, he began telling Dianne about Madeleine. The first time she’d spoken to him. Her past crimes. Being involved in Draccon’s investigation. He spoke in a rapid, hushed voice, as if someone might overhear him and send word back to Detective Draccon.
When he finished, Dianne’s face had changed from brown to ashen. “I can’t believe they roped you into something as crazy as this. You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“They needed my help.”
Dianne gave him a pointed look. “Listen, let’s say that this girl—who is anunhinged murderer,I’d like to remind us both—wastelling the truth. How have the police not found any evidence yet? They combed this street corner for weeks without finding so much as a hint of what the Nightwalkers might have been up to.”
Bruce held up a hand. “And if there’s nothing to find, then all I’ve wasted is a night of my time. But what if Madeleine gave me an honest hint? She told me to pay attention to the north wall. Maybe there’s something the cops missed.”
Dianne leaned forward and squinted at Bruce carefully. “Oh, I get it,” she declared after a moment. “I’ve figured it out.”
“Figured what out?”
“You.What’s up with you—I’ve figured it out.” She crossed her arms and peered at him. “You like Madeleine. You’re all hung up on her.”
