IC: Vic Sage
"Naah, that's fine," I say into the phone. I'm in my car, waiting on Stan. Helena is on the other end of the phone, at the hospital. Her boss is in critical after some mysterious injury.
"It's fine. I'm meeting my old sergeant in a few minutes, I don't know how long we'll be....yeah....yeah, just a case. I should be done tonight and if you're still at the hospital, I'll swing by. Alright, see you soon. Bye."
I hang up as Stan parks his car by mine and gets out.
"Got the court order, Vic. Let's do this."
I follow behind Stan into Gotham Savings & Loans. He approaches a clerk and flashes a badge. "Sergeant Merkel, GCPD. I got a search and seizure warrant for a safety deposit box."
The clerk looks at the warrant and hands it back. "Hold on a moment, please."
It's a good thing I managed to catch this when I went through the contents of Driver's desk. There was a scrap of paper with a note on it. "Gotham Savings & Loan. Box 214, Account no. 04911819, PIN no. 2104"
Since Driver's dead, it was a breeze to get a warrant for the box. There's no telling what's in there, but it may be another clue.
"Gentleman," a man appears behind the counter. "May I see your warrant?"
Stan hands it over to the manager and he breezes through it. "Very well, follow me."
We follow the manager into the vault where the deposit boxes are. He walks over to box 214 and unlocks it, sliding the box out. Inside is a bound notebook and a burnt CD.
"Huh."
Stan pulls them out of the box and nods at the manager. "Thank you, sir."
We follow him out the bank and into the street. We're walking two our cars when his phone rings.
"Hello?...What?...Seriously? Goddammit! Okay, I'll be there."
He hangs up and hands me the notebook and CD.
"Two cops got killed in a botched raid. They're calling all hands on deck for Homicide. I gotta go. Let me know what you find."
"I will."
Merkel jumps into his car and peels off, hitting the lights and tearing down the street. I walk over to my car and get inside. I take the CD and slide it into the player.
"....Test, test, one, two three......My name is Detective Marcus Driver, badge number 09832. If you're listening to this, that means I'm dead or in prison. Before we start, all you need to know is that all of this, every bit of this mess, is the fault of Edward Nygma..."
******
IC: Jim Gordon
Going on twelve hours and and there's still no sign of Nygma. All the patrols are out there, searching for him. I'm holed up in my office, looking out at the skyline from my wheelchair. The lights of the city are beginning to come on as the sun sinks over the horizon. I've always loved this view, it's where I come to think.
There's no telling how many cases I've cracked by gazing out the window and thinking it over, first when I was a rookie detective on the fourth floor, then as a sergeant in my office in the Eastern. Then as a lieutenant and captain on the seventh floor. And now here, as commissioner.
This is where I've achieved some of my greatest victories, and where I've ruined countless lives. All in the name of the city, all in the name of keeping it safe. My old service revolver is in the desk drawer. With Nygma preparing to hand my head on platter to the FBI, maybe this is a fitting place to end it all? It wouldn't hurt. Just squeeze the trigger and I'm gone. I wheel over to the desk and open the drawer, I look down at the gun and reach for it.
"Jim," Sarah says from the doorway. I jump, startled and look at her.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, babe," I say as I close the desk drawer.
"You just sneaked up on me."
"I found out exactly what that slip of paper is that was left on your desk. It's a safety deposit box from Gotham Savings and Loans. The account is in the name of Marcus Driver."
With the mention of Driver's name, everything clicks into place and my memory comes rushing back.
"Oh, my God, Sarah! You have to get to that box right now!"
"What is it, Jim?"
"No time, just go to the bank now."
"It's closed. They closed for the day."
"I don't care! Call the bank manager and get him back there to open it up. Call Judge Fayden and get a warrant, whatever it takes! I want what's inside the box before the night's over!"
Sarah nods and runs out. My heart is racing. I reach for the phone on my desk and dial a number.
"Hello?"
"Bullock, it's Gordon. Meet me in my office right now. I've got a plan."
I hang up the phone before he can answer. This is it. My chance to get out of this alive and without any bodies.
******
IC: Edward Nygma
I look around the windowless room, like an interrogation room. This time, I'm on the side the criminals sit at. I guess this is part of it all, the first step is admitting I'm a criminal.
On the table in front of me is a contract. It has all my wishes listed. In return for my testimony I will get: Full immunity from criminal prosecution, entrance into the Witness Relocation Program, and a monthly stipend as a FBI consultant for future cases.
In short: My ticket out of this ****ing hellhole.
Agent Spencer walks in and takes a seat across the table from me.
"Does everything look alright?"
"Yes, but two minor things: I want to relocate to somewhere far from here. Oregon or Arizona. Also, I want 24 hours to settle my debts and accounts. After we're done, I leave here and come back tomorrow night for good."
"The answer to your first question is something you'll have to take up with the Marshal Service. With your second question, that's a no."
I look straight ahead, past Spencer and into the two-way mirror behind her. I know they're watching, FBI agents and God knows who else.
"Then no testimony. I want 24 hours. Doesn't matter what happens to me, I'll keep my nose out of trouble and I'm all yours."
Spencer looks back at the glass and shrugs.
"Fine," Matthews, her boss, booms over the intercom in the ceiling of the room.
"24 hours, Nygma. You screw us over and that's it. You'll be in jail right alongside Gordon."
I nod and give Matthews a semi-salute from behind the glass. I take the pen and sign the contract in my sprawling signature.
Spencer pulls out a digital recorder and starts it, she slides it to the middle of the table.
"Official FBI interview with Inspector Edward Nygma, GCPD. Present are FBI Special Agent Kate Spencer. Please, state your full name and rank..."
I take a deep breath and lean forward nervously.
"Edward Frank Nygma, Detective Inspector and Chief of Detectives, Gotham City Police Department."
"Anytime you're ready. Start from the beginning, and tell it all. Anything you leave out voids the deal."
I take another deep breath and lick my lips. They're dry, very dry. I can feel the nervous pit in my stomach. After all this time, all the lies that have been swept under the rug, all the things I've had to do to survive. I've never told a soul...
Except now.
I stay silent for a few minutes, contemplating what to say and how to say it. Spencer fidgets and looks back at the glass when I finally start to talk.
"I guess...I guess this all started the night Black Mask was killed. One punch started it all..."
"...when I walked in, Umberto Maroni was dead. Selina had shot him. She was crying and afraid. I helped her get rid of his body, I chopped him up into teeny, tiny parts and dumped him in Slaughter Swamp..."
"...Michael Akins became Holiday because of what Gordon and his corrupt drug unit did to him. He was honest, he threatened to inform on them and they destroyed his life..."
"...I pulled strings and made a deal with Gordon: I would destroy Akins' testimony and sweep his real motive under the rug, he would promote me to Chief of Detectives. He bought my silence, I let him buy my silence. I blackmailed Vic Sage into keep quiet. He slugged me and quit...Can't say that I blame him..."
"...While everyone was busy at the wedding, Maroni turn tail and ran. He saw me coming for him...but he didn't expect me to be waiting for him in the office when he got there...he begged me for mercy...I shoved him out his office building and watched him go splat."
The part involving Dent comes next...Nobody knows about it. Nobody needs to know about it. I press on, avoiding that part.
"Bette Kane's murder haunted me, haunted Driver as well...Kate Kane and I started ****ing each other while Driver worked the case. He solved it and it killed him..."
"I shot Harold Kane four times in the head...and then Kate I shot four times in the chest, each bullet for the people they killed..."
"...Bane had me on the ground, close to killing me. I begged for mercy, I pleaded for it. I made a deal. I would give him Batman..."
"...Crowe turned and pointed his shotgun at me, nearly killed me. I killed him and his partner, Davies in return. That was twelve hours to go."
I look up at Spencer and see the repulsed looked on her face.
"And I think that brings you up to speed."
She stares, almost shocked and amazed.
"I thought...I thought all you were doing was ripping off drug dealers, stealing evidence and selling it. Not this!"
"Please," I sneer.
"You got enough for Gordon and then some."
I stand up and look at the mirror.
"Full immunity for all that. And 24 hours starting now."
Spencer looks up at me and shakes her head as she turns off the recorder.
"You're sick, you're twisted. The fact that I gave scum like you full immunity will ruin me!"
I stare down at Spencer and shrug.
"I've done worse."
I breeze out of the interrogation room without a look back.
******
Out to my car, I pull out my keys and begin to unlock the door when footsteps come up from behind. I turn around just in time to see Bullock, a cattle prod in his hands. The prod strikes me in the ribs and I convulse all over before I drop to the ground. Bullock brings his foot down on my head and everything goes black.