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GCPD: Smoke and Windows
August 14th, 1999
<Loren wrote...>
The piquant smell of a burning cigar looms throughout the precinct,
where a number of people have gathered to partake in an imperative event.
Renee: Put that thing out, Harv!
Bullock: Why, Montoya? You never minded before!
Renee sits behind Loren, on a desk, with her hands on his shoulders.
Bullock realizes Renee's new opinion, once he sees the object of her
affection. He glares at Loren, seated two places away from him, and
blows smoke in his direction.
Wayne: Would you hurry up, already? You're making me nervous!
Chris: Yeah, come on, Loren. What's taking you so long?
Loren: Just gimme a second, alright? I wanna make sure that --
The door, which Caz knew he had locked, flung open.
Loren: Excuse me a moment, everyone.
Loren gets up from the table, picking up his cards, so that no-one
disturbs them, and walks over to the new arrival, to shake his hand.
Loren: I'd like you to meet the newest member of the GCPD. He just
got transferred from across the pond.
Pi: Hello, everyone! The name's Pi.
Wayne: Pie? What kinda name's that? You a dessert freak or something?
Pi: 'Fraid not.
Loren: That over there's Wayne. Yeah, he's usually that dense. ;)
Wayne: Shut up, Di Iorio.
Hardback gets up from the round table and shakes Pi's hand.
Bock: Hi, Pi. I'm MacKenzie Bock, but everyone around here calls me
Hardback.
Pi: Nice to meet you, Hardback.
Loren: That's Caz over there, and Chris's beside him...
Caz: Hey there, Pi.
Chris: Hey, Pi. How's it going?
Pi: Hi, guys.
Loren: And beside him is Lieutenant Essen.
Sarah: How do you do, Pi?
Pi: It's a pleasure, Lieutenant.
Loren: And over there is everybody's favorite space cadet, Eng Lau.
Eng: Hey, Pi. I'm kinda new around here, too. Just graduated from the
Academy a little while ago.
Pi: Congratulations!
Loren: The lovely lady on the desk is Renee Montoya.
Pi: Why, hello, Miss Montoya.
Renee: That's *Detective* Montoya to you.
Loren walks back toward her, and returns to his seat.
Loren: Don't get any ideas, Pi. She's off limits. :)
Pi: Got it. :)
Bullock: Aren't you forgetting someone?
Loren: Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, the big teddy bear over there is Harvey
Bullock.
Bullock: Yeah, whatever, Di Iorio. Listen, Pi, I hope you got deep
pockets, 'cause we ain't here to play
fish, y'know.
Pi: I couldn't possibly --
Loren: You must've played a little poker in your time. Come on...
Pi: Well, alright. Deal me in.
Bock: You'll have to wait till this round's over. Well, Loren, what's it
gonna be?
Loren: Hmm...
Renee whispers something into his ear.
Loren: I'll raise fifty.
Bock: I'm out.
Wayne: You're crazy, Di Iorio. I ain't wasting money like that.
Caz: Forget about it.
Chris: Count me out, too.
Sarah: Jim'd kill me if he knew I threw money away like that.
Bullock: Hey, I think Montoya's helpin' him, or something!
Loren: Are you in, Bullock?
Bullock: You kidding?
Renee: Well, Eng, you're the only one left.
Eng: Umm...I uh...I think I'll have to, uh...call.
Loren: Brave man. You'll make a fine captain some day. :)
The member of the Special Investigations Unit turns over his cards,
to reveal...
Loren: Four threes.
Eng looks at his own cards again, looks back at the upturned cards
on the table, and frowns.
Eng: Man! I was sure I had you!
Renee: What've you got?
Bullock: As if you didn't know.
Eng: A straight!
Caz: Better luck next time, kid.
At the edge of the window, Loren spies a flash of light, only meant
for him to see.
Loren: Deal me out on this one, guys. I gotta make a call.
Renee: Don't be long...
Loren: I'll try not to keep you waiting, Renee. :)
He walks over toward the window, sits on a nearby desk, and fakes
dialing the phone located there, choosing to look over to the window
again. A vague shadow of a person can be seen through the pane, making
hand signals to Loren. Renee notices that Loren's looking intently at
something out the window, and as she's about to get up, Loren hangs up
the phone, and heads for the door.
Loren: Sorry, folks. Gotta run. I'll clean you guys out *next* week. :)
Sarah: Not unless you're talking about cleaning my car, you won't. ;)
Loren: Pi, could I talk to you for a minute?
Pi: Sure.
The newest member of the GCPD walks over to Loren, and they talk
privately.
Loren: You just *had* to give me threes, didn't you?
Pi: What else did you expect? :)
Loren: Make sure Renee gets home alright later, okay? And don't try
anything stupid.
Pi: Me? Never. ;)
Loren: Yeah, yeah, whatever. :)
Pi returns to the table.
Loren: Shoot...almost forgot...
Loren runs back to where he was sitting before, and kisses Renee.
Loren: Bye, Renee.
Renee: You want me to come along?
Loren: No, don't worry about me. Just leave the light on later, alright?
Renee: You got it, sweetie. :)
Loren exits, and the game resumes. Half a minute later, Montoya
makes for the door, herself.
Bullock: Going some place, Montoya?
Renee: Yeah, I'm calling it a night.
Pi: Here, let me take you home, Detective.
Renee: No, thank you, I've got something else to do, anyway, and I
wouldn't want to take you away from your first game.
Pi: Oh, it's no trouble, believe me.
Wayne: Sounds like the Brit's getting fresh with Montoya. Wait'll
Loren hears about this...
Pi: If it's all the same to you, Wayne, I'd rather be called Pi.
Wayne: You got a last name, Pi?
Pi: No, just Pi.
By the time the two of them sort things out, Renee has already left.
<Pi wrote...>
In a vain attempt to follow Renee out, Pi makes for the door, but is
blocked by the ample mass of Bullock...
Bullock: So what's the deal here? I mean, Gotham ain't exactly your
prime transfer location. It
takes a special kinda nutcase to
actually *want* to work here...
Wayne: Yeah. What's the deal?
Pi: No deal, just... well, you watch enough NYPD Blue, you get sort
of fed up with fishing winos out of puddles and dealing with
irritating druggie teenagers with too much time on their hands.
Gotham's got a certain... drama to it, put it like that.
Caz: (whispers) ...bat-freak...
Pi: (clearly having heard) Not really. Of course, we don't have very
many kevlar-clad black-caped semi-supernatural creatures of the
night
in Oxford, but that's not exactly a bad thing.
Caz: Hmph.
Pi: Anyway, as I tried to say, poker isn't really my game. My brother
plays a bit, but nothing serious. I really should check if
mis...
detective Montoya is alright...
Bullock: Aw, lay off Mr. No-Last-Name. The lady knows how to take
care of herself, better'n you I'll
bet. Sounds like a real
mine-field back there in Oxford,
betcha get a load of hassle
from toffee-nosed students who've
lost their bikes and need a
lift home. Or is it more
sweeping the poor people out of the
way of the professors' Bentleys?
Pi shoots Bullock an icy stare.
Pi: Oh, no more hassle than you must get from doughnut vendors who've
run out of chocolate-coated sprinkled.
Eng: Yeah, that can be really irritat...
Pi: I expect that it must leave you with a lot of time, having a
full-time authorised vigilante doing all of the hard work for
you.
When was the last time the GCPD lost track of a psychopathic
serial
killer...
Gordon: Oh, not for a few weeks now.
Pi spins around to see Commissioner Gordon, having listened to most of
the exchange from his office doorway, striding across the floor.
Pi: Commissioner... I didn't mean... that is, I'm sure...
Gordon: Nice to see you've been making such a good impression. Your
position in England has no bearing on
your current status here,
mister, so I suggest you check that ego
at the door along with
the unauthorised piece you're carrying.
Pi: Ah. Yes, I've been meaning to talk to you about that licence...
Gordon: Later. Where'd Di Iorio go?
Eng: He just shot off commish.
Pi: Prior engagement, I think.
Gordon: Well, since you seem to know so much about his movements, you
might do me the favour of getting him
back here. I'm sure
someone will be willing to give you a
ride. (exits)
Pi: Sure. Right. Fine.
Pi grabs his coat, and looks around a room of less-than-friendly
faces...
<Loren wrote...>
Eng: I'll take ya, Pi.
Caz: You aren't even old enough to drive yet, kid.
Eng: Ha ha.
Bock: Come on, Pi. Let's go find Loren.
Pi: Thanks, Hardback.
Elsewhere, Loren climbs the stairs to the roof of his apartment.
Helena: It took you long enough to get here.
Loren: Sorry. Must've left my grapnel in my other pair of boxers.
A couple of floors below, Renee uses the key Loren gave her to get
into the apartment they now share. As she suspected, he wasn't there,
but she realized he'd been back, since he left the precinct, because
he'd left the TV with the Knights game on. Even though she knows she
shouldn't, she worries a little about him.
Renee: It's probably nothing...
Back on the roof...
Loren: You just couldn't do it, could you?
Helena: I'm not your slave!
Loren: Hey, I'm doing my part! If you want this thing to work out --
Helena: You *know* I do...
Loren: Then you've gotta help me here. You ready for tomorrow night?
Helena: Yes.
Loren: Good. I'll meet you there at one.
Loren walks back down the stairs, and into his apartment.
Loren: You're home early!
Renee: Yeah, I got tired of listening to Hotu and Bullock's Burp Opera.
I was hoping you'd be home soon.
Loren: Oh, so you *do* care about me! :)
Loren walks over to Renee, holds her in his arms, and looks into her
eyes.
Renee: No, I just wanted to remind you to turn off the T.V. ;)
<Pi wrote...>
Cruising through the dark streets of Gotham, Pi stares out the window
intently. Eng drives carefully, while Hardback taps the dashboard in
a random drum rhythm.
Pi: Does Lieutenant Di Iorio do this disappearing act often then?
The Commissioner didn't seem too pleased back there...
Eng: Loren? He comes and goes quite a bit. Not much for the
paperwork, a bit of a loner, y'know?
Bock: The Lieutenant's a good man, perhaps not a "team player" in the
normal sense...
Hardback glances back at Pi, still staring intently out of the window.
Bock: ... but then I'm getting the impression that neither are you.
Pi: In CID over the pond everything's a little more... officious, if
you see what I mean. There are two types of police in
England -
the bobby; straight and regular, down the line, and then
there's...
well, there's me.
Eng: You're not straight?
Pi: Let's just say that I keep my mind, eyes, and ears open.
Bock: Heh. The Commish is gonna love you. So do you already know
Loren or...
Pi: Stop the car!
Eng: Huh? We're practically there - that's the Lieutenant's building
over...
Pi: STOP IT!
The car shudders to a halt, and Pi leaps out, staring up at the
rooftops.
Bock: (getting out of the car) What? What is it?
Pi: Up there. On the roof. I... I'm sure I saw something.
Bock: Well... yeah. I mean, it's not everyday, but you do see
shadows, sometimes bright colours flitting about on
the rooftops.
Pi: It was a woman. Purple. And a flash of metal, maybe gold or
perhaps silver.
Bock: Purple?
Eng: Oh no...
Pi: You say *that's* the Lieutenant's building? She came from... Hmmm.
Eng: What?
Pi: He's here too, that's his car there. Not being local, might I
ask which female vigilante wears purple exactly?
Inside Loren's apartment, mere moments after his arrival, the phone
rings...
With a sigh, Renee unwraps herself from around Loren and makes for the
kitchen. Scratching his head, Loren answers it.
Loren: Di Iorio.
Gordon: Lieutentant. Glad to hear you're safe and well.
Loren: Sorry?
Gordon: I sent our British recruit out looking for you. False alarm
actually - unscheduled fire drill at
Blackgate. For some reason
we've lost Eng's radio, so they're still
out looking for you.
Loren: Pi's coming here?!? Now?!?
Gordon: Yup. Send him back here.
Loren: How soon?
Gordon: Any minute I'd guess. Why, is there a prob...
Loren: No, no problem Commish, gotta go, bye!
Loren spins around to face the open door and Pi, smiling.
Pi: So... did your rooftop meeting go off alright?
<Loren wrote...>
Loren: Quiet! She'll hear you!
Renee happens to overhear both parts of the conversation, but keeps
it to herself, and continues to listen. Hardback and Eng come running
toward Loren's front door, moments later.
Loren: Uh...hi guys. What're y'all doing here?
Bock: The Commissioner wants to see you in his office right away.
Eng: Yeah, he says it's real important that you get back there.
Pi: But you still haven't told me --
Loren: Oh yeah? Well, you can tell the Commissioner that I'm not
going.
Renee: Not going?!? Loren, he's gonna kill you, if you don't go! No,
*I'm* gonna kill you, if you don't go!
Loren: Don't worry, Renee. He can't order me to come back. I never liked
the guy, anyway.
Bock's starting to catch on, since he knows that Loren would never
say something like that about Jim Gordon. Eng, however, is still
dumbfounded.
Eng: What?!? Hey, what kind of policeman are you?
Pi: Funny, I was just about to ask him the same question. About that
rooftop, now...
Loren: Listen, guys. Just get back there, and tell him I don't have any
intention of going back tonight. I've got something
else I've gotta
do. I'll be back in about an hour, Renee. See ya,
guys.
Renee: Oh no, you don't. Get back here right now, Di Iorio!
Never wanting to infuriate Renee, Loren does as he's told.
Loren: Listen, honey...
Renee: Don't "listen, honey" me! You're going back to the precinct.
Loren: But...
Renee: Go! Now!
Loren: But, Renee, I was just jo--
Renee: Get out!
Detective Montoya pushes Loren out through his own door with such
force, that he almost cannot keep his balance, were it not for the
opposite wall he ran into.
Bock: Come on, Loren. Back to work...
Loren: Okay, I'm only gonna say this once. The Commish just called me
before you guys got here, and said that somebody
pulled a fire
alarm at Blackgate, and he originally wanted me to
check it out,
but when he found out it was a false alarm, he told
me to stay
home, and that I'm supposed to send you, Pi, back to
the station.
The other officers look at each other.
Pi: You believe him?
Bock: He's never lied before. Well, at least, when he's not joking
around.
Loren: Good, now if you'll excuse me, I've got another matter to
attend to.
Soon, at the notorious Iceberg Lounge...
JC: Couldn't you have picked a less public meeting place?
Loren: Relax, JC. Who could possibly be listening in on us?
In the booth behind the detective, a zoot-suited character with a
match between his teeth lends an ear in Loren's direction.
<Matches wrote...>
JC: Well, that zoot-suited character over there looks like he's
listening to us.
Loren whirls around, only to catch a glimpse of someone ducking under
the table.
Loren: I don't see anyone. (quietly) Geez, JC, you think I didn't
notice that guy? It's all part of the plan.
JC: You mean?
Loren: Misinformation is my middle name. Well, not really. But I'm
very good at it.
JC and Loren resume their conversation. Matches slides a cellphone
out of his pocket. Still under the table, he punches a number off the
speed dial.
Matches: It's me. Yeah, he thinks he's onto me. If only he knew...
<Loren wrote...>
Loren: You got the info I wanted about Gordon?
JC looks at him, slightly puzzled, then it dawns on him.
JC: Oh...*yes*, the info about *Gordon*, right. It's all right here.
He hands the detective a folded piece of paper.
Loren: Perfect. I'll make sure to put you on my nice list, when
Christmas rolls around. :)
JC: I'm touched, but in the interim, why don't you buy us something
to drink.
Loren: Of course. Cognac, right?
Loren calls over one of the waitresses, whom he appears to know
somewhat well, and orders the cognac. Just before she leaves...
JC: Be a dear, and bring the bottle, too. :)
She smiles, and heads toward the bar.
Loren: Did you have any trouble getting this stuff?
JC: It wasn't something a Gotham cop could track down, but I managed
well enough. Might I inquire when this affair of yours will take
place?
Loren: No, you might not.
The waitress returns with two glasses and a cognac bottle.
Loren: Just 'cause I'm being generous by paying for the drinks, doesn't
mean I'm gonna be giving away anything more about the
operation.
Let's just say that he won't know what hit him.
Loren points to the booth behind him, where Matches Malone is
sitting, letting JC know that now is the time to act.
JC: Say, you wouldn't happen to have a match on you, would you?
Loren: Oh, look! There's one on the floor.
Loren picks up the match, and hands it to JC.
JC: Thank you.
Loren: Not at all.
JC opens the cognac bottle, strikes the match, and in one swift
motion, drops the lit match into the bottle and tosses it into Matches'
booth. The tablecloth instantly catches fire and Matches struggles to
put it out. Loren takes that moment to patiently walk toward the exit,
as several of the Iceberg Lounge's patrons look on at Matches' dilemma.
Matches notices Loren escaping, and makes to pursue.
JC: Not so fast, mate.
JC grabs him by the shoulder, preventing him from following Loren.
<Matches wrote...>
Matches: Would you look at this? You didn't say anything about using
a real match. Do you know how hard
it is to find bright red
suits these days?
JC: Cool your jets, man. I was very careful to only burn the booth.
Matches: So, did you give him the stuff?
JC: Yep. (pulls another envelope from his jacket) Here's your copy.
Matches: Thanks. Well, I've gotta be running along. Ciao.
As Matches departs, JC goes back to his and Loren's table and
begins straightening up, preparing to leave. He nearly drops a glass
when he hears a quating quack.
Penguin: Waugh! Waugh! My booth!! Who did this?? I demand to know
immediately!
JC: Oh, it's you. Well, Cobblepot, Officer Di Iorio burned down your
booth.
Penguin: What?? Where is he?
JC: He just left. He's got a flat tire, though (chuckle), so he's
probably still in the parking lot.
<Loren wrote...>
Just outside of the Iceberg Lounge...
Loren: Aw, *come on*!! Who'd be freakin' evil enough to wanna slice up
a tire on my pickup truck?!? I can't *believe* the
psychos in
this town!
Inside the Lounge, where JC is still laughing away, two very large
bodyguards get their orders from the Penguin, take the brasss knuckles
out of their pockets, and head outside.
Loren: It must've been that stupid Penguin! I never did anything to
that lousy...
Loren thinks to himself, "Well, at least not *lately*, anyway."
Bodyguard #1: What did you say?
Loren turns to face an awful tower of a man, just across the street
from where he parked. Not to be outdone by good fortune, a similar
ogre bounds out of the Lounge, right behind the first guy.
Loren: I was saying how much I hate that idiot employer of yours.
Bodyguard #2: Oh *really*?
It's just then that Loren notices the sheen of those polished
knuckles, under the hard glow of the Victorian streetlamp. He tenses
up, then makes for his waist.
Loren: Yeah, reall--
Oops. He forgot to bring his gun along.
Loren: Nice one, Loren...
As the brutish boors begin barrelling toward Loren, a squad car
pulls between them, and momentarily stops.
Renee: Get in!
Loren opens the rear door, jumps in the back seat, and Renee pulls
away, just as the bodyguards nearly reach them.
Loren: Phew...! Man, that freaks me out! I can't believe they did that
to my truck!
Renee: Thanks, Renee.
Loren: Oh yeah, sorry. :) You're the greatest, Renee!
Renee: Yeah, yeah. :) What'd they do to the truck?
Loren: They must've sliced up the tires while I was waiting for...
while I was waiting inside. Hey...how'd you know
where I was?
Renee: Where *else* do you always go to meet up with someone? I thought
I'd come by, strangle your neck, and take you back
home, after
what you said earlier, when the guys were around.
Loren: You know I didn't mean any of that.
Renee: Not at the time!
An uneasy silence appears out of nowhere (as uneasy silences usually
do), for a number of seconds.
Renee: So what's wrong?
Loren: I told you, my truck's all --
Renee: No, I mean, there's something you're not telling me.
Loren: ...What do you mean?
Renee: When you went to make a call back at the poker game, I saw
someone talking to you at the window somehow. Who was
that?
Loren: No-one... I mean, I wasn't talking to anyone, 'cause no-one was
there. I was just on the phone, Renee, that's all.
You must've
been seeing things.
She doesn't believe him, but decides not to press the matter any
further, at least for now.
Renee: ...yeah, I guess so.
Loren: You *know* I'd tell you if anything was happening, Renee.
Now she *knows* something's really going on.
Renee: Yeah, I know.
They drive back home without speaking to each other the rest of the
way...
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