Who Killed Balbo The Boy Magician?
Deadman floats unseen, unheard above Batman's friend, Jim Gordon, as John Smith, seemingly lucid despite his Alzheimer's, slowly and fitfully recalls the day the young adventurer disappeared.
Smith seems to be talking as though he's in a dream. His eyes don't focus on Gordon, instead, they stare out the window into the sunshine.
"Wilma Clinton ... she was a nice woman. Remembered her from the old neighborhood. Married a guy that was no good for her ... used to come 'round wearing a hat to cover the bruises but I always knew. Always looked the other way. Everyone looked the other way back ...
"Wilma came 'round to see me. Her daughter was missing. Lots of kids missing. She said the police chief came down, but left quickly. Nothing he could do, she said. And her man was no help. Lots of good poor people needed help. They needed a hero. Balbo wanted to help ..."
He shakes his head, and his joints crick.
"Balbo figured out that, if you drew a map of where the kids were taken, it'd make a pentagram. He figured it was some kinda cult. He went looking for the kids ... figured he'd try the center of the the pentagram, while I went to go tell the police what he figured.
"Chief ... well, he wasn't a good man. Bigoted old bastard, actually. Practically laughed me outta the precinct. I went to go catch up with Balbo, and the building was empty. No kids, no bodies, no Balbo."
I searched for hours, then filed a missing persons report. The chief was a jerk, but some of the cops knew Balbo, and liked him. Few months later, he was declared dead, and the chief tried to pin me for it, but Bulletman was back from overseas, and when he spoke up for me, people listened."
He closes his eyes, and his voice grows lower, more gravelly.
"I can see the reaper over your shoulder, Mr. Gordon. I know this is the end. But I tell you true, that old bigot knew something. Once Balbo disappeared, no more kids disappeared. I don't know what happened, but Balbo stopped it."
His breathing begins to slow, his voice trails out.
"You tell 'em, Mr. Gordon. He's dead now, but that old police chief, he knew who took those kids. He was the one who had Balbo killed."
And then he's gone, and the body slumps, all spark of life gone.
"I do OK?" says John Smith's ghost to the only one present who can hear him.
"You did OK, John," says Boston. "You did OK. C'mon. There's someone on the other side who's waited a long time to see you again."
And they walk into the light.
Smith seems to be talking as though he's in a dream. His eyes don't focus on Gordon, instead, they stare out the window into the sunshine.
"Wilma Clinton ... she was a nice woman. Remembered her from the old neighborhood. Married a guy that was no good for her ... used to come 'round wearing a hat to cover the bruises but I always knew. Always looked the other way. Everyone looked the other way back ...
"Wilma came 'round to see me. Her daughter was missing. Lots of kids missing. She said the police chief came down, but left quickly. Nothing he could do, she said. And her man was no help. Lots of good poor people needed help. They needed a hero. Balbo wanted to help ..."
He shakes his head, and his joints crick.
"Balbo figured out that, if you drew a map of where the kids were taken, it'd make a pentagram. He figured it was some kinda cult. He went looking for the kids ... figured he'd try the center of the the pentagram, while I went to go tell the police what he figured.
"Chief ... well, he wasn't a good man. Bigoted old bastard, actually. Practically laughed me outta the precinct. I went to go catch up with Balbo, and the building was empty. No kids, no bodies, no Balbo."
I searched for hours, then filed a missing persons report. The chief was a jerk, but some of the cops knew Balbo, and liked him. Few months later, he was declared dead, and the chief tried to pin me for it, but Bulletman was back from overseas, and when he spoke up for me, people listened."
He closes his eyes, and his voice grows lower, more gravelly.
"I can see the reaper over your shoulder, Mr. Gordon. I know this is the end. But I tell you true, that old bigot knew something. Once Balbo disappeared, no more kids disappeared. I don't know what happened, but Balbo stopped it."
His breathing begins to slow, his voice trails out.
"You tell 'em, Mr. Gordon. He's dead now, but that old police chief, he knew who took those kids. He was the one who had Balbo killed."
And then he's gone, and the body slumps, all spark of life gone.
"I do OK?" says John Smith's ghost to the only one present who can hear him.
"You did OK, John," says Boston. "You did OK. C'mon. There's someone on the other side who's waited a long time to see you again."
And they walk into the light.