Rainy Night Mystery (Part 1)

In the quiet manor, the fireplace crackled, and fine rain pattered against the windows. The faint sounds vanished into the dim light as they entered the room.

Pages rustled softly as Schiller sat on the sofa before the fireplace, reading. In this slow-paced era, the hours between sunset and bedtime always seemed especially long. Holding his book, he watched the world before his eyes sway across the words and gradually blur. Just as drowsiness rose within him, a shrill, urgent telephone ring startled him awake.

Schiller remained seated and closed his eyes for a moment. He took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, then slowly got to his feet. Walking to the staircase, he picked up the telephone receiver from the cabinet and held it to his ear.

"Fish Mooney is dead."

Gordon’s voice boomed like thunder from the other end of the line.

Schiller covered his forehead and leaned against the cabinet. "Who’s that?"

"The head of the Muni Gang, the ruler of Living Hell."

"So?"

"…I need your help, Professor."

Schiller glanced at the sky, which had gone completely dark. He was about to refuse when Gordon said, "Batman found the crime scene. By the time we got there, Fish was already dead. After documenting the scene, we brought Fish’s body back for an autopsy. We also brought back a witness. The witness’s mental state isn’t very good. He may have some kind of psychological disorder. We really need your help."

Schiller put down the phone and sighed. He slipped on his coat, took his umbrella, left the warm and quiet manor, and stepped into Gotham’s dark, rainy night.

By the time he reached the Police Department, only a tiny lightbulb hung from the awning above the entrance of the old building. Through its light, he could see streaks of rain blowing inside.

Schiller climbed the steps, where puddles had gathered. Looking up, he saw Gordon struggling to open the chained wooden door.

Schiller folded his umbrella as Gordon came over and said, "Thank God, you got here just in time."

"The next time there’s an emergency like this…" Schiller shook the umbrella hard, as though venting his frustration. "Don’t call me. Whatever it is can wait until morning."

Gordon’s gaze followed the motion to the umbrella. He tilted his head and examined it carefully. "What happened to your umbrella? Didn’t you say it was good quality?"

"It was, but even good things break. And once they do, there’s nowhere to get them fixed."

Schiller put away his umbrella and headed straight into the Police Department. Gordon followed behind him. "That costumed freak went to Living Hell in the middle of the night and happened to stumble onto a murder."

Gordon quickened his pace, moved ahead to lead the way, and spoke rapidly. "Fish Mooney was the gangster boss who originally ruled Living Hell. Since the redevelopment of Living Hell began, many other East District gang bosses have gradually moved in and divided up the Muni Gang’s territory."

"Fish had a violent temper. She also seemed to be a sadist."

"Now that she’s dead, you don’t need to describe her symptoms to me. Tell me about the living one. Where’s the witness?"

"I was just taking you to him…" Gordon led Schiller down an entire corridor and stopped at the room at the very end. A young officer had just come out. He said to Gordon, "That kid really seems to have mental problems. I swear I didn’t hit him, but he…"

"All right, all right." Gordon patted the young officer’s shoulder. "I believe you. You’re not that violent. Let’s go in and take a look."

After opening the door, Gordon entered first. The moment Schiller stepped inside, he saw a familiar figure sitting behind the interrogation desk. It was Oswald Cobblepot.

He looked terrible. His face was deathly pale, his black hair soaked by the rain and plastered tightly to his forehead. The eyes sunken beneath his sockets were dull and vacant. His limbs twitched, and he muttered incessantly under his breath.

He was not sitting in a chair. Instead, he was crouched in the corner of the room. The young officer came in as well and explained to Gordon, "We told him to sit in the chair, but he wouldn’t. We didn’t handcuff him, and we definitely didn’t use any violence. He was like this the moment he came in…"

Gordon understood why the young officer kept stressing that no force had been used. In a place like the Gotham Police Department, most officers were not exactly kind to prisoners. Getting beaten after being brought in was practically normal.

Gordon had specifically instructed them not to use violence against Cobblepot. Seeing Cobblepot like this, the young officer was afraid Gordon would misunderstand.

Gordon used his key to open the Iron Gate behind the interrogation desk. As he stepped inside, Cobblepot looked utterly terrified. Schiller stopped Gordon from approaching any farther. "It looks like he has a stress disorder. Don’t get too close to him yet…"

Schiller and Gordon stood two meters away from Cobblepot. Schiller tilted his head and examined Cobblepot from an angle against the light. He realized Cobblepot was likely in the middle of an episode.

Gordon observed him from another angle. He asked the young officer, "Are you sure you didn’t hit him? Why does it look like there’s a wound on his neck?"

The officer raised his hands. "I swear, we never even touched him! That wound must have been there before he arrived."

The officer sounded certain. Gordon frowned, while Schiller turned to him and said, "Have him leave first. Too many people won’t help him calm down."

After the young officer left, Schiller said to Gordon, "This should be Acute Stress Disorder."

Schiller took half a step forward. Cobblepot immediately recoiled as if he had gone mad, letting out incoherent shrieks. Schiller stepped back and said to Gordon, "Re-experiencing symptoms, panic, hypervigilance, and…"

Schiller rubbed his chin. "That’s not all. Along with the agitated state, there seems to be some other mental disorder as well…"

"All right. It looks like getting anything out of him is impossible."

"Not necessarily, but his symptoms require hospitalization. After treatment, he should regain his normal faculties."

"How long will that take?"

"Are you in such a hurry?" Schiller asked Gordon. "Fish Mooney may have been a gang boss, but she wasn’t anyone important in Gotham. Who’s putting this much pressure on you?"

Gordon sighed. "It’s complicated. Let Batman explain."

The moment he finished speaking, a sound came from behind them. Batman emerged from the shadows in the corner of the interrogation room.

"Let me make this clear first. I know you suspect me of beating him, but I didn’t," Batman said.

"Weren’t his injuries left when you subdued him?" Schiller turned and asked.

Batman shook his head. "When I encountered him at the crime scene, he was already unconscious and covered in injuries. It was obvious he had just been beaten."

Batman entered through the Iron Gate as well, stopping farther away as he looked at Cobblepot. "When I arrived, Fish was already dead. He had collapsed nearby, covered from head to toe in signs of being beaten. There was no third party at the scene, so all I could do was call Gordon to investigate and send Fish’s body and him here together."

"I think you two need to tell me the whole story from the beginning." Schiller walked out with them. Gordon kept looking back, seeming somewhat sympathetic toward Cobblepot. "Are we really just leaving him here? That doesn’t seem right. Shouldn’t we send him to the hospital first?"

"For now, it’s best not to let anyone near him. Otherwise, he’ll be even more easily provoked," Schiller said without looking back. But Gordon still seemed worried. "That kid doesn’t look like he’s even an adult. He should have family, right? If he doesn’t go home this late, his relatives will be worried."

As he spoke, he called out twice and summoned back the young officer who had been smoking by the stairs. "Find out where this kid lives and who else is in his family. Let them know he’s safe. And don’t tell them he’s having an episode. Say he got hurt street racing and is in the hospital…"

"Don’t use street racing as an excuse," Schiller reminded Gordon. "I know him. He’s a student at the Living Hell Vocational School. His mother should still be at home, and he doesn’t street race."

"Then what should we say? Forget it. Tell them he got drunk or high."

"He has no bad habits. He doesn’t drink or do drugs, doesn’t street race or get into fights, and he doesn’t even smoke."

Gordon’s eyes widened. He looked back at Cobblepot, then at Schiller, and said in surprise, "Doesn’t smoke, drink, do drugs, street race, or fight? No bad habits at all? Are you sure he’s a Gotham kid? That’s strange…" Gordon put his hands on his hips, utterly baffled. "People like that really exist in Gotham? In all my years here, this is the first time I’ve seen one."

After saying that, he felt even more sympathy for Cobblepot. He stood at the door, repeatedly looking back at him. Schiller said to Gordon, "I remember that the last time I came to the Police Department, I saw a woman in charge of cleaning. Have her come over. A woman close to his mother’s age should make him less guarded."

"You mean Mrs. Mona? All right. She probably hasn’t left yet. I’ll arrange for her to come over. At the very least, she can get the kid into some dry clothes."

After the three left, they went to Gordon’s office. Gordon and Schiller sat facing each other, while Batman stood in the shadow by the window.

Schiller poured himself a cup of hot water and said, "I think you should start from the beginning. What exactly happened?"

He turned to Batman. "Why did you go to Living Hell in the first place?"

Then he turned back to Gordon. "And what happened with Fish’s death? Why are you so desperate to solve this case?"

Gordon spoke first. He sighed. "I’ll start with the part I know. This has to begin with the redevelopment of Living Hell…"

"We all know that the renovated Living Hell is like a delicious pie. Everyone wants a slice. The Muni Gang used to run rampant there, but there were plenty of hard cases in the East District. Elizabeth Street alone had several formidable figures. They weren’t far from Living Hell, so naturally they wanted to get there first…"

"As the original masters of Living Hell, the Muni Gang wanted to hold onto the area. But they also knew they couldn’t do it alone."

"So Fish gave up part of the profits to those outside gang bosses, allowing them to occupy some territory in the North District. But those gang bosses were Greed crocodiles that could never be fed. Step by step, they forced Fish back. In the end, the entire North District and half the South Side were taken over by outsiders. Fish was nearly driven mad with rage…"