The MCU is an absolute frenzy. The packages are being gone through with a fine tooth comb for any sign of clues, the detectives have all been called in to cover everything they know about the location, Croc's testimony, the current suspects and who's out of prison... anything and everything they can do ( Read more... )

Sonia has been back in town for a couple of days now, and is still feeling moderately refreshed. St. Roch was... a neat town. (Not Gotham. But nothing is Gotham.) And Roxy, as usual, ever the optimist - nice to be around, after spending so much time in her own head. She started missing it almost the instant she stepped on the plane back to The City ( Read more... )

The Captain is not happy, to say the least. She has one officer out indefinitely - Romy isn't even up for filling out the paperwork following shooting the Scarecrow, little surprise that, given the circumstances. So she's been put on leave under heavy guard. Maggie knows the dangers as well as anyone... Gotham's rogues aren't going to sit quietly ( Read more... )

The call came in late. Romy's usual partner was off getting breakfast, while half the late shift at the GCPD was deep in one bit of research or another. As usual, at first it seemed like the beat cops were just trying to foist work off on the major crimes unit. 'late at night', 'heard noises', 'saw suspicious vehicles around a theatre', etc ( Read more... )

Crime. It doesn't stop. And neither do the cases that find their way to her desk. Each day it's a cup of coffee and hit the ground running. The less time at the desk, the better. Answers don't provide themselves. Legwork. Investigation. And lots of it. That's how the crimes get solved ( Read more... )

All over America, cities buzz with traffic. The interstates and state highways hum with the sounds of cars, mini-vans, vans, and trucks carrying commuters, soccer teams, small appliances, and larger cargo across town or across the state or across the Continental Divide. The drone of mobility ( Read more... )

Fucking city no-smoking ordinances.Max is huddled out of Gotham's rain under a local bar's overhang. Big downside of being the city's DA - you can't bring a suit against the people you work for, much less prosecute a law you promoted to get the job in the first damned place. Cupping his hands around the lighter to deflect the constantly shifting ( Read more... )

Voices in the bullpen tend to carry. Whispers take on lives of their own. Conversations? Forget it. Nothing's sacred. Arguments? All too frequent. Right this moment? Nobody's talking. Nobody. Even Procknow has her mouth shut ( Read more... )

The message left on her work voice mail is short and sweet. Cris Allen's voice resonates in her ear.

You're hard to get a hold of. Partial came back on the sheath. Congrats. You're in business. Call me.

Old industrial phones make quite a racket when slammed down on their receivers.

There's one other possibility. He could have placed it in a pocket.

Not without cutting the hell out of the material.With that in mind, she heads to the evidence room with the file in hand. Mitchell's clothing should be bagged and tagged by now. It's been a couple days. More than enough time. She isn't disappointed. At least not at first ( Read more... )