Black polished shoes strode purposely on the broken cement of Bludhaven’s sidewalks. They had started from 1013 Parkthorne Avenue, the newest home to Richard Grayson and continued into the main part of the city. It had been easy finding an apartment. Most of the area was low rent housing projects or older buildings left over from the fishing days. Bludhaven wasn’t winning any awards for being a great place to live. The crime rate was high as was the pollution, but like any city it kept lurching onwards. It welcomed the influx of new money and eagerly accepted the money that Dick had had in New York City banks in exchange for an apartment twice the size but in worse condition. So Dick had the living situation squared away. Now, he just had to work on a car.

He climbed the weathered steps to the building he’d been watching just last night. It hadn’t looked so intimidating then. However, now, as he watched patrolmen enter and exit the building it all seemed a bit much. He’d be finalizing his job. In moments, he’d be part of the Bludhaven police force. He’d be a city cop, one who happened to moonlight as a vigilante. This was definitely going to be an interesting situation.

Upon opening the door, he was assaulted by the sheer noise in the lobby. Phones rang. People shouted to one another. Papers rustled. Dick moved slowly through the throng of people. He stood patiently behind a counter watching as a patrol directed people to various areas. The man would momentarily listen to streams of complaints, before he interrupted and directed them onwards.

The older man fixed his eye contact with Dick. “Yes?”

“Hi. My name is Dick Grayson and I--”

The phone rang before Dick could continue any further. The man behind the desk picked it up brusquely. “District One.” He moved the phone slightly and nodded in Dick’s direction. “Hang on a sec.”

Slightly annoyed, Dick listened to the one sided conversation, which didn’t sound too agreeable. Finally, the cop slammed the phone down. “Well, bully for you!” the cop muttered before looking up at Dick again. “What did you need again?”

“I have a four-thirty appointment with--”

“Where the hell is the copy paper?” someone yelled from the back.

Dick frowned as the cop turned to yell back an answer. “Second shelf-- no, to your left. Your other left. Damn it Walters!” he huffed before getting up and moving over to the area. “How hard is it to find the ruddy thing?”

Giving up on patience completely Dick moved to the nearest uniformed officer. “Chief Redhorn’s office?” he inquired.

The man scowled at interruption and gave clipped directions before moving off. “Down the hall. First right. Second left. All the way to the end. Oh, and kid?”

Dick turned.

The man bit down on a pen, his worlds garbled around the plastic. “I’d knock first.”

Dick stood in the small office. He hadn’t been invited to sit down. Rather he waited, as Redhorn overlooked his file. The overweight man leaned back in his chair, chewing on a cigar butt. His red hair was closely cropped as if in an effort to hide the color. Most of his face was obscured by the manila folder he was reading. Redhorn licked a finger and turned a page as if flipping through the daily paper.

“So you graduated New York, huh?” Redhorn stared at Dick, wanting an answer to the question he hadn’t asked.

“I grew up in Gotham,” Dick explained.

“You didn’t apply there?”

“Well,” he managed a smile, “you can never go home again right?”

Redhorn set the folder down to rifle through the papers. He didn’t think he had seen a college degree in the transcript. Redhorn shrugged. Drawing out a few papers and signing them. “Everything looks in order then. Drop this off to personnel.” Redhorn dropped a paper into Dick’s hands. “This one off to payroll. Then report to Captain Addad. He’ll be your babysitter.”

“Yes sir.”

“This isn’t Gotham,” Redhorn explained. “Give it a few days and you’ll get a feel for Bludhaven and how it works. You’ll find out I run this city. Now get outta here.”

Dick blinked. Then recovered and turned to leave. He had his hand on the door when Redhorn cleared his throat. Confused, Dick turned back around.

Redhorn leaned back in his chair, in the process of drawing out a lighter. “Oh, and rookie, welcome to the force.”

The meeting with Captain Addad was exponentially better than the formalities with Redhorn. Addad seemed a stand up man who cut right to the point giving Dick the ins and outs of the Bludhaven P.D. He left nothing out, speaking candidly about the corruption in the department. Addad was going on his nineteenth year on the force and it had gotten to the point where nothing intimidated him, a point he made clear to his newest officer.

“And this is where you’ll be working,” Addad explained as he pushed open two double doors.

Like all the squad rooms that Dick had seen, this one was filled to capacity. File cabinets lined the walls, popped up next to desks, and wherever there seemed to be free space. The cheap plastic chairs that had seen better days were strewn about. Some were behind desks while other lined the walls. The walls were papered with Wanted ads, news clippings, photos, and sporadic bits of information. And, of course, because there had to be at least one, a coffee machine in the corner.

Despite everyone’s need for java, the area was clear except for the two women having an argument. Dick recognized one immediately as the near hit and run driver from last night. He’d known then she was an off duty cop, but it never crossed his imagination that they’d be working in the same department. She looked different, in uniform blues, her red hair pulled up and back in a twist. She had her arms crossed as she shook her head at her coworker. The other woman looked in her thirties. Mousy brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her make up was simple, nothing like the woman beside her. She took a sip of coffee and shook her head as well.

“No, look,” insisted the brunette, “you can’t do that. There’s no probable cause.”

“Yes,” said the redhead sipping her drink calmly, “you can.”

“But if you’re wrong,” said the older woman protested.

“But I’d be the only one that knows. If it was a real situation, I hardly would have admitted it. Ends and means, Amy. Especially in this town.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Kate. You know that.”

Kate seemed amused at the older woman’s flustered sense of morals. The red head put her hands up in the air in playful supplication. “Hypothetical,” she teasingly reminded the other woman.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” Amy stalked off, pushing past Dick and Captain Addad.

Kate shrugged, looking at everyone. No longer was anyone making any attempt to look busy with anything else. Kate smiled out innocently at the group. “What?”

Addad cleared his throat. “Don’t we work here people?” Instantly the normal chatter started again and the background buzz was restored. The captain shook his head somberly. “I tell you Grayson,” he started with amusement in his voice, “you’ve got to keep on top of these people.”

“I see,” Dick muttered.

“Anyways, this is the squad room. I’ll see what I can do about getting you a desk but as for right now I might as well make some introductions.” Addad scanned the room for a moment before he barked out, “Riordan!”

At a desk closest to them, a young man with short red hair looked up sharply. “Yes, boss?” he said just a bit too eagerly.

A little father off, an older, slightly portly man looked up as well, making eye contact. “Eh?” Dick recognized him as the same officer he’d seen last night in the Zee Moores. Two for two. This was bound to be interesting.

Addad waved a dismissive hand at them. Irritated, he gestured towards the corner where Kate was standing. “Not you guys, the hot shot.”

Kate raised an eyebrow and pointed to herself innocently.

Addad snorted. “Yeah, you. Get over here.”

Kate downed her coffee then lobbed it into the wastebasket before moving towards the door. She slid up, surveying Dick from head to toe and clucked her tongue appreciatively before turning to the Captain. “You hollered, boss?”

“Why thank you for joining us Kate,” he greeted sarcastically. “We’re so honored by your presence. Let me introduce the newest member of your fan club. This is Richard Grayson. He just transferred down here, fresh out of the New York Academy. Congratulations. You get the honor of being his training officer.”

Kate’s smile flickered momentarily and she gave Dick another once over. It was a more critical look this time, almost as if she could evaluate his skills and worth by such a simple glance. She frowned slightly but didn’t make any verbal protest.

“You know the deal,” Addad continued, “show him the ropes. Take him on patrol-- and where the hell did Rohrbach go?”

“I’m not her keeper,” Kate protested.

“You’re right,” Addad agreed, pushing Dick forward a few steps. “You’re his. I’ve got to go track her down. Enjoy kiddies.”

“Um...” Dick offered his hand. “Hi.”

“And that it. The grand tour.” Kate plopped down into her desk chair, the wheels squealing slightly on the tiled floor. She swiveled about so she was situated directly behind the desk. Gesturing to a spare chair along side, she waited until Dick sat and got settled. “So, shoot. Tell me your story.”

“My story?” he echoed.

“Yeah. What makes Richard Grayson tick? Is law enforcement in your blood? Got a girl? Got a wife? Got kids?”

Dick laughed. “Do I look old enough to have kids?”

Kate shrugged and gave a flirtatious smile. “Hey, you never know. I’ve got a cousin up in Gotham that’s bouncing two babies and she’s barely twenty. Modern times. Anything goes.”

“Modern enough to have a fling with a partner?” a voice from behind them said.

Dick turned to see the young redhead from before flanked by the older man. Kate titled her head back and rolled her eyes.

“I dunno,” said the elder, “he looks like a scrapper. Are you sure you can handle him, Katie?”

“Stake my badge on it. Grayson, meet Sean,” Kate gestured to the younger man,” and Jack Riordan. Brother and uncle respectively.” In turn, the younger and elder man extended Dick their hand. For a moment the group was caught up in amicable greetings.

“A real family affair,” Dick approved. It wasn’t too much unlike his own.

“So right. I bounced this girl on my knee way back in the day.” Jack clapped Dick on the back. “The Riordan’s are famous. We have family in every department, and on every level. At our high we had thirty two officers, fourteen has been the lowest ever.”

Dick let out a low whistle. “Must love your work.”

“Damn straight,” Jack clapped his hands. “A chance to clean up scum in our neighborhood, and get paid for doing it. It's a family tradition.”

“So is dying in the line of duty,” a new voice said, “but I never see you bragging about that boy-o.”

The group turned to see two older men walk in. The first was dressed nicely, polished shoes, neat shirt, black tie, covered by a light floor length trench. A cigarette was held loosely in his hands, giving him a film noir quality, making him seem above the space of the bullpen. Next to him, hovering slightly behind, was another man, a bit shorter and stockier. He didn’t seem comfortable and ran a hand nervously through his hands.

Jack glared at the two of them. “Piss off, Soames.”

“That’s no way to talk to an inspector,” Soames chastised, taking a leisurely drag from his cigarette.

“Yeah but it’s perfect to talk to you. I’ve been in this department half my life; don’t think you can intimidate me.”

“Do you think we can spare the machismo?” Soames’s companion muttered in an effort to keep the peace. However, it had the opposite affect. Reminded of his presence, Jack turned his attention unto him.

“I told you Eddie,” Jack shook an angry finger in the air, “if you’re going to hang around with him--”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie Walton waved a dismissive hand. He frowned. “I’ve heard the lecture before.”

“Then you should start listening,” Sean added feeling the need to add his two cents.

“I don’t care if you’re off shift or not,” Jack spat more towards Soames than Eddie, “he’s always bad news.”

“The man’s capable of making his own decisions,” Soames shrugged.

Kate put her head in her hands, a weary gesture of one who has heard it all before. “I’m gonna get a headache if I stay here. C’mon Grayson, let’s roll.”

“So that’s our route,” Kate said. Her eyes were on the road more than her companion. They had driven through the downtown area before heading out to the Zee Moores, Bludhaven’s attempt and failure at low income housing. The route they had traveled had been a maze of one way streets. She looked at Dick out of the corner of her eye. “Did you get that all down rookie?”

“Yeah,” Dick nodded and then to Kate’s amazement proceeded to the repeat the directions. “Easy as pie. Next question please.”

“So,” Kate flashed a smile, “you got a girl?”

“Uh...”

“Uh? That’s not an answer. It’s not even a half answer. Is that an ‘Uh-I-do-but-I-don’t-want-one’, a ‘I kinda-do’, a ‘I’m-seeing-someone-but-I-don’t-know-if-we’re-anything’?”

“Uh...”

Kate grinned. “Or a ‘I-don’t-feel-comfortable-talking-about-my-lovelife-with-a-gorgeous-redhead-next-to-me’?

“Definitely the last one,” Dick asserted, glad for an easy way out. “You’d be too much for me, Kate.”

“You better believe it.”

They were looking at each other, smiles slowly turning into grins, when the radio band squawked a 10-51 - attention all units. “10-51, all units be advised: reports of a 10-35 at Brookline and Vine. Unit 294 is en route. Any units in the area, please respond.”

Dick frowned at the radio. “A shooting? That’s only two blocks from here.”

“Pretty good for a rookie,” Kate commented, already starting to turn around. She flipped on the siren, making a tight left turn. “Hang on kid.”

Cars sluggishly tried to get out of the way. They pulled into one way streets and jumped curbs as Kate pounded the steering wheel in frustration. “Don’t you see the lights!” she yelled. Finally, the cars moved out of the way and Kate hit the gas. She drove with one hand on the wheel the other reaching down to grab the radio. “Unit 324 to base. We’re en route as well.”

“Acknowledged.”

Kate turned to Dick. “Nothing like excitement on your first day, huh?”

Dick blanched as Kate raced around a corner. He could almost feel the wheels tilt and hear the tires screech. “Nothing like.”

As they approached the intersection, Kate began to slow. The area was clear and quiet, no sounds of a gunfight. Other police cars, unit 347 and unit 295, were parked alongside the alleyway. Kate caught a glance of Rohrbach, already at the scene. Amy stood talking on her mobile radio. From what Kate could tell there wasn’t any danger. She got out slamming the car door. Curtly, she nodded to Amy as she gestured to the other car. “Looks like Walton beat us to it.”

“Not quite, Riordan,” Amy said flatly.

Dick cautious got out of the car. Moving past Kate to look down the alleyway. The body was face down, and first thing he noticed was the telltale blue of a police uniform. After that, a dark stain, which had soaked the pale cloth, was spread out on the person’s back. Recognition didn’t come instantly to Dick , but it did to Kate.

“Oh my God,” she breathed.

Beside her Dick stood silent, his eyes riveted on the body of Edward Walton.

The door burst open and Kate strode angrily in. She stalked through the bullpen, people parted as she walked. She flung open the door to Addad’s office and entered without preamble. Her hands hit the desk with a defining thud. “I want the case.” It was a demand, not a request.

Addad looked up slowly at his errant detective. He met her stare, not even flinching when the door slammed shut. He gestured for her to sit and waited until she was settled. “No,” he stated calmly.

“Why?” Kate shot back.

“You need a list?” Addad asked incredulously.

“I want the case!”

“One, you’re major crimes; not homicide. Two, you’re not IA. It’s not your turf. Three, you’re related! Four, you’re personally involved. You’re not getting this one Kate. You can do canvas if you want, work on it in your free time I don’t care, but I can’t give it to you.”

Their gazed locked. Addad’s conveying sympathy while looking unmoving. Kate, well frankly, she simply looked pissed off. After a few moments of tense silence, she rose and headed for the door.

“Then consider this sick time.” She stormed out, making sure to rattle the door hinges again. Just outside the door, Kate stared down the bullpen, daring anyone to comment. Everyone averted her gaze, suddenly enthralled with their arrest sheets and reports. Satisfied, she continued on her way out.

She brushed past Dick angrily as he entered the bullpen. He swayed slightly trying to balance a double tiered tray of coffee as he got out of her way and then once again as he turned to watch her walk away. “Kate, what’s go--” he tried to question but she didn’t stop.

Frowning, Dick set the tray down on her desk where people immediately claimed hot coffee.

“Oh, yeah,” Sean commented, grabbing a medium cup.

“What was all that about?” Dick questioned.

“No clue. My guess, she asked and the captain said no. She’s all a rage now. I’m gonna be steering clear of her for the next year.” Sean took a sip of coffee, wincing at the hot temperature. “You can leave if you want. She’s not going to be back. The last time he disagreed with her, Kate worked day and night on a case and didn’t even set foot within a block of the precinct.”

“She’s a bit... determined,” Dick ventured cautiously.

“She’s like a pit bull. If the system doesn’t like her, then she doesn’t like the system.”

Dick frowned. “I didn’t think it worked like that.”

Sean sighed. “It doesn’t.”

“Is this about Walton?”

“Of course, what else? You were there at the scene of the crime, right?”

“Yeah, ballistics has the only evidence we found.” He had helped to canvas the area with Kate and Amy. None of the tenants or storekeepers had seen or heard anything. They’d found two shell casings in the street, but nothing else significant. Walton’s gun was found in his holster, so he hadn’t known there was danger.

“I just didn’t think she liked him that much.”

“She doesn’t. Hates him. Passionately. Even more so when he started hanging out with the Inspector. He’s extended family though. Our sister Colleen’s married to him. Er... was married to him.”

“So if she hates him, why does she want the case?”

“Colleen. She’ll care. Don’t get me wrong, she knew Eddie was dirty but she still loved him. Colleen’ll want to know who killed him and Kate’s gonna be determined enough to find out for her. Thanks for the coffee man, I’ve got to roll. Take it easy, okay?”

“Sure.” Dick smiled. “I’ll probably kick back and get some light reading done.”

Dick coughed again and more dust clouds floated up in the air. He wiped his hand on his pants, the dust leaving a dark gray trail behind. It was far too much to ask that the BPD could computerize their records. He pulled another stack of manila folders from the drawer and coughed again. Heck, Dick would have been happy with a feather duster.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to find. Any recent cases would have been computerized and any current files would be upstairs in the office and not downstairs in the depths of dust bunny hell. He looked at the newest records he could find filed by Walton. Not much, a lot of open-ended cases all signed off by Inspector Soames.

Curious, Dick started to hunt for Soames’s files. While he found folders, they had no papers inside them. Dick stood puzzled. Files didn’t just disappear, and the only people that had access were cops. Of course, there was always another possibility.

Dick wasn’t stupid. He knew that the Bludhaven Police Department didn’t use the title Inspector. However, he wasn’t jumping to conclusions. However, the fact that Soames’s files seemed AWOL, which was suspicious in itself, and the fact that Soames and Walton obvious had a good working relationship was enough to shuck benefit of the doubt out the window.

People aren’t killed without reason. The reason doesn’t have to make sense, but it does have to be there. It was possible that Walton was killed because he was a cop. Perhaps he had seen something on his way home. However, most likely, he would have called in anything suspicious. Instead, Walton felt comfortable enough to park, exit, and greet whoever without drawing a weapon. Dick closed his eyes, recalling the scene.

The EMTs with Amy’s help had rolled Walton onto his back. Tiny holes decorated the front of his shirt, blood no longer flowing to cover the ground. The exit wounds had been significant larger. The doors slammed and the siren’s flipped on although everyone present knew he was ultimately destined to the morgue rather than an operating room. Walton had seen the face of his killer and still didn’t make any hostile move. He wasn’t prepared.

Best to start with Walton’s list of associates. A little discreet question and answer and observation might go a long way. The only problem was, Dick didn’t know who Walton was dealing with. What he did know, however, was a guaranteed way to find out.

All roads lead to Rome, after all. Or in this case Inspector Dudley Soames.

Whistling, Dick headed down to the parking garage.

Dick padded about his apartment in sweatpants, holding a bowl full of cereal. Never let it be said that cereal is only a breakfast food. He was just biding his time. In the corner, the television droned on with the evening news. “Earlier today, a police veteran Edward Walton was gunned down in the Zee Moores. A search has already begun for his killer spurred by Chief Redhorn’s public statement. He described the loss as ‘tragic’ and assured the public that the killer would ‘see the full extent of the law.’ Walton leaves behind a wife and no children.”

He glanced outside; it was getting dark. Perfect. He looked at his watch and decided he’d waited long enough. Dick closed the blinds and secured the locks. The apartment loft he lived in was spacious, in fact too much so for a young man living alone in the city. Luckily enough, he had many a fun gadget and gizmo to fill up the space. In short order, Dick had changed. The dark blue and black of the Nightwing suit replaced the dark gray sweats. With a bit of spirit gum, he secured the mask before moving on to the utilities. Once situated, he pressed a small button on his gauntlet. A tiny grid display floated in the air. There was a blue marker in the shape of Nightwing’s emblem and it blinked on the digital map and moved steadily. He planned out a route then turned off the display.

Dick peered out a window shade. No one across the street seemed home. Quietly, he opened the window. He looked down, seeing the city street, then dropped down to the fire escape. He pulled the window shut, and then began climbing the antiquated ladder to the roof. There was a slight breeze, but it wasn’t cold. The darkened sky was lit sporadically by a waning moon, when it wasn’t covered with passing clouds. Nightwing leapt off the building. He leapfrogged four more before he needed a jumpline. The tight wire shot out, the end digging into aged stone, and he jumped into the air.

He swung in a lazy arc directing himself towards traffic. He landed with a thump and a slight creak of metal atop the trailer of an eighteen wheeler. Crouching low, he stayed atop it for a few blocks before the rig shifted into the right lane. Nightwing looked back, scanning traffic. He spotted a city bus coming up to the intersection and braced himself to jump. He stood and barely kept from stumbling as the top of the rig rocking slightly as it rolled to a stop. He took a deep breath, before making a running jump.

The occupants of the bus looked up sharply at the noise, before going back to their normal incoherent state. The bus hadn’t collapsed and that was all the commuters were worried about. Right above, Nightwing was desperately searching for purchase. He hadn’t expected the top to be slightly domed and wasn’t planning on sliding down into traffic. Grabbing onto the side, he steadied himself, just as the light turned green and the bus let out a diesel lurch.

Nightwing coughed and grimaced. “I have got do something about this.”

At the next bus stop, Nightwing was ready. He shot out a jumpline and rose steadily until he reached the top of a high rise apartment. It was a building that had no place in Bludhaven. The architecture was sleek, but already worn from the elements and the environments. Upkeep had not been as important. What was once rows of plants now stood as barren clumps of dirt. The brightly colored banners were dulled with pollution. Once on the roof, Nightwing crouched to his haunches looking over the ledge. He pressed a button, the map lighting up in the midair. The blue light was no longer blinking.

“Perfect,” said Nightwing and shut off the display once again. From this height, he could see all the comings and goings of the building. It was an excellent vantage point. Nightwing shifted on the ledge, leaning against a statue. He’d already tagged Soames’s car earlier in the day and the only thing he had to do was wait for it pull out.

He wasn’t waiting long before Soames appeared. He strolled down the steps to the street. The ever present trench was open and blowing slightly in the breeze. Soames paused, digging into his pockets, before producing a cigarette and a light. He lit up, while he scanned the street, satisfied that no one was watching he started walking.

And Nightwing began to follow.

He watched impressed at Soames route. It was far from direct, doubling back once and changing direction a total of three times. The Inspector would stop into stores spending a few minutes before coming out once again and checking his surroundings. He may have been cautious but he failed to notice the hero that blended into the inky background. Nightwing stayed to the rooftops as much he could keeping out of the line of sight, however Soames turned down an alleyway that opened to a parking lot.

The asphalt was torn up and the building itself dilapidated. Yet, there were signs of life, light was flickering from inside and a small group of cars were parked about. The sleek paint jobs and nice finishing, not to mention custom rims and accessories told Nightwing that Soames had come to his destination. Nightwing waited until Soames had entered the old warehouse before he dropped down to the ground. Quietly, he circled around to the back of the building, until he found a large enough space to slip inside.

The warehouse was dark, the only light coming from portable lanterns in the far corner. Nightwing adjusted his lenses, seeing everything a green tint. Heavy chains hung from the ceiling’s crossbeams and boxes were stacked in the corner. Nightwing looked up at the support beams. They seemed stable enough. He grabbed a low hanging chain, tested its anchor and began his climb. At the far end, a group of lawn chairs stood out scattered haphazardly amongst the bits of loose wood. The voices were the next thing he noticed. Carrying on stale air with a slight echo.

“Shame about Eddie.” Nightwing paused in his climb to look over at the group. This was the leader, sitting back in a chair. Hands lazily over the armrests, the picture of relaxation.

“Well,” Soames took a drag on his cigarette, blowing the smoke lazily into the air before answering, “he wasn’t the brightest boy in the world.”

“Think Palermo caught up with him?” Now on the support beams, Nightwing inched closer, intending to stop directly overhead of the meeting.

Soames merely shrugged. “Daylight’s not his style. You have the money?”

“Yeah, but with those gun runners, you just never know.” The man in the chair nodded to the man closest to him. Reaching into his suit pocket, he pulled out an envelope which he held out for Soames. The inspector took it, slit it open with a knife, and checked the contents. Nightwing tried to edge closer to see and managed to see the dark bills hiding inside. Soames nodded to the man in the chair as he tucked the envelope away.

“You seem awfully interested in cops tonight.”

“Yeah, well, Walton’s into one of my boys for big money.”

“Did your ‘boy’ do anything?” Soames locked a hard glare at the gang leader.

“Nothing except rant and holler that he was gonna kill whoever capped ‘im. You can’t get money from a dead man.”

“No truer words my friend. So,” Soames tapped his pocket, “this is everything right?”

“Yeah, it’s everything.”

“It had better be.” Soames dropped the cigarette, grinding it out with his heal. The threat was clear. “There are exceptions to every rule.”

He waited one more moment, meeting the stare of the men in the room. “A goodnight to you,” he said, then turned and walked out of the building.

The door had barely creaked closed before the protests and temper started among the group

“Just because he’s got connections doesn’t mean--”

“You shouldn’t have let him talk to you like that Jerome.”

“Shut up all of you, let’s get out of here.”

“Leaving so soon?” Nightwing asked, watching as everyone looked around nervously. “But I just got here.”

“Who the hell?” The leader mutter, pulling an automatic out of his coat.

“So hospitable too,” Nightwing quipped and jumped from the ledge. He caught the leader in a flying tackle, the man taking the brunt of his impact. They fell back, landing on the floor. The man tried to bring the gun around to fire. “I’ll take that if you don’t mind.” Nightwing grabbed the gun by the barrel and flung it at the lantern, which exploded with a crash.

Whether the sudden dive or the newfound darkness had taken them by surprise, the group froze. Nightwing didn’t. He quickly delivered a swift uppercut knocking the leader back. Then he turned, flinging out of a batarang which made two more members drop their guns. Two more men were trying to flank him. He ducked a punch from the man on the right returning with a quick roundhouse that sent the man sprawling. The man on the left adopted a defensive stance, a knife brandished out in front of him.

“Okay, freak, you wanna dance?” he sneered.

“Not with your ugly face,” Nightwing retorted. The man lunged for him, but Nightwing caught his wrist easily. He applied pressure, twisting slightly until the man dropped the knife. Satisfied, Nightwing released his grip only to backhand the man again. He now stood alone, the members of the group lying on the floor. He walked about, hauling the leader to his feet and slamming him securely against the wall.

“Hi,” Nightwing greeted with a smirk.

“What do you want?” The other’s man voice was shaky, tinged with fear.

“Just a few questions. First, let’s talk about Palermo...”

The man swallowed hard and Nightwing grinned.

It was all rather productive, Nightwing thought as he sat on the rafters once again. Below the group had been bound with filament to the wide beams that ran up the ceiling, their weapons piled neatly far away from them. One anonymous phone call later and all Nightwing had to do was wait for the cavalry. Not long after, he heard the welcome sounds of sirens splitting the air. Four uniformed cops rushed in, stopping dead at the sight.

“Damn,” one of the cops whispered and holstered his gun.

Nightwing smiled to himself, he took pride in his work after all.

“What the hell happened here?” demanded the oldest cop. He strode angrily to the restrained group, and started splitting their bonds.

Nightwing’s jaw dropped as he watched the gang slowly stand and rub their wrists.

“Some freak in pajamas decided to bust up the party,” the lead member answered with a sneer.

“Is he dead?” the cop questioned.

Above, Nightwing shifted on the beams. He zoomed in with his starlight lenses, committing the officers’ names and faces to memory. It always helped to know who was on your side and who wasn’t.

“He was too quick for us.”

“Soames isn’t going to be happy about this.”

“He wasn’t here! He can shove it. I don’t give two f--” but the tough words died as the leader found himself looking down the barrel of a .32.

“If you wanna survive in the Haven,” the cop nudged off the safety, “you better care.”

Contemplation briefly ghosted upon the leader’s face before he raised his hands in supplication. He started to back away slowly. “A’ight. If that’s how it’s gonna be played, we can roll with that.”

“Good to know.” The cop secured his weapon and holstered it again. “He’ll be in touch I’m sure.” Gesturing to the group they started to exit.

Nightwing sighed as he watched the two groups depart. “This is gonna be harder than I thought.”

Dick tapped another pushpin into the map on the corkboard. The little pins sat on the map of Bludhaven, carefully color coded as they marked the different areas of organized crime. The past week had been productive. He stepped back then rubbed his eyes wearily. Perhaps a little too productive. It looked a cluttered mess, not unlike the apartment he had shared with Roy. Dick frowned and ran a hand through his hair just as the telephone rang. Go figure that, speak of the devil.

"Grayson," he answered the phone.

"I'm sorry," the familiar voice on the other end said. Tim threw an arm lazily over the top of the payphone. "I was looking for the crimefighter formerly known as Robin."

"Nah man," Dick said plopping down on the sofa, "he doesn't live here anymore. So what's up kiddo and why are you calling me at one p.m. Aren't you in school?"

"Hey, there's no need to get all parental on me," Tim protested. "I can't call up and see how work's going with you?"

"Sure. It's insane. There was a cop killed on my first day and the department's blind."

"Yeah," Tim responded, slouching down, his eyes scanning the hallway. He dropped his voice to a whisper. "I heard about that on the news. Did you know him?"

"Met him once and why are you whispering?"

"No reason," Tim said, trying to blend into the wall. "So have you solved it yet?"

"I'm working on it. The person that I need to question to flies in tonight."

"He wasn't there?" Tim whispered back. He had to be careful, if he got caught, he couldn't stand the consequences.

"No. He's a big name around here, running stuff from wherever he is. Look, stop whispering or tell me what's going on, you're getting me edgy."

"Nah, man it's cool. It's just--"

"There you are!" a female voice faintly trickled over the phone. Dick's face wrinkled in confusion as Tim's dropped, aghast. "We've been looking for you. You're up next Tim."

"Yes, Ms. Bertinelli," Tim muttered with all the enthusiasm of a high school student being tortured. He could hear Dick's laugher on the other end. "I'm gonna get you back for this man, you just wait," he hissed into the receiver.

Dick only laughed more, but somehow managed to mutter, "Goodbye, give my regards to teach." The last thing he heard before Tim hung up was a stern, "Timothy. Sometime today."

Dick felt bad, he really did. Or maybe he would when he finished being amused.

The 9:06 p.m. flight from Chicago touched down on time. Palermo stood, stretched, and expressed his appreciation to the staff. He picked up his briefcase and exited the plane and subsequently the terminal. He looked like a normal businessman. Nice tailored and pressed suit, slick haircut, gold fastenings. To look at him was to dismiss him as one of the faceless masses. He exited the airport and stepped into a ready waiting limo. The door closed and it merged into traffic.

About sixty feet down, the engine of a sleek metallic purple car kicked on. A scarf was wrapped around the driver's bright red hair. Dark sunglasses covered her face even thought it was nighttime. Kate checked her automatic, ensuring it was loaded. Satisfied, she tucked it away and started to merge into traffic.

Nightwing paused, looking up at the expansive building. It wasn't as picturesque or secure as Wayne Manor but it wasn't without its own impressive charm. Manicured grass, with slightly rolling hills. Trees carefully placed and tended to in various spots on the lawn as well as around the perimeter. A long concrete driveway leading up to the house and garages. He didn't fail to notice the subtle security cameras that were woven into the landscape. It wasn't anything that would pose a problem.

He slipped through the dark trees, making his way to the house when the air was split with loud barking. Two Doberman pinschers greeted him by baring their teeth. One lunged at him, and he leapt over the dog. He landed and began backing away towards the nearest three. Sensing that he wasn't going to run, the other dog closed in slowly. The first quickly joined helping to cut off the vigilante's means of escape. It still hadn't learned but lunged once again. It stopped short from hurling itself at the tree, Nightwing had disappeared. After a few moments of disorientation, both dogs looked up.

"Nice puppies," Nightwing said searching in his gauntlets. He removed a few capsules throwing them down at the dogs. They caught them and viciously bit into them. "Say night-night."

He dropped down the grass by the sleeping canines forms, and continued moving about the grounds. Spotting the second story window, which served as Palermo's study, Nightwing quickly scaled the closest tree. From there, he leveled what looked like a gun at the window. With a soft thwap a small dark bat shaped symbol attached itself to the window frame. Nightwing nestled the receiver in his ear, and once it was activated a small blue light blinked once on the device. All he had to do now was wait.

The purple car didn't turn as the limo went down the long one way street. Instead, Kate paused, letting Palermo get a decent head start. She cut the lights and then made the turn. The car started quietly down the street. Up ahead, she saw the limo turn into the grounds taking the meager light with it. Kate drove down the street, but stopped before she reached the driveway. She cut the engine. Taking care, she fastened a silencer over the end of her gun and stepped outside.

Palermo stepped out of the limo and quickly to the open door. He waited a moment for his butler to receive his jacket before striding upstairs. He went straight for his study, flipping the light on and moving to the far liquor cabinet. He took a moment to pour himself a drink. Nightwing could hear the ice hitting the glass as he watched the man move about.

Finally, Palermo rested in an armchair moving to pick up a corded telephone and dialed a familiar number. He took a sip of his drink while waiting for the other party to pick up. "It's me," he finally said. "What was so urgent that you needed me to call?"

Nightwing strained to listen. He'd could barely make out the other caller. If he had had more time, he would have simply tapped the line. Now, however, he'd have to make do.

"Glad to see you got in all right. Have you kept up with the news?" a male voice on the other end of the phone said.

"Yeah," Palermo replied. "You lost one of your boys. What's that got to do with me?"

"You knew he was skimming from you, but you could have come to me."

"Ah, so that's what it's about," Palermo nodded once with understanding. "It's the way things work. Don't get me wrong, it works out better for me, but I have many better things to do than bother with your people. Is that all you needed?"

"For now."

"Then I'm happy to oblige." Palermo set down the receiver just as Nightwing took the listening device out of his ear. It was short and quick, and his best lead had just fizzled. He was in the process of tucking in his binoculars when movement caught his eye. He looked back to the house and was shocked to see a female figure rapidly sneaking up. She strode boldly up the door and knocked. Nightwing quickly brought his binoculars out to get a closer look.

She was unmistakable, despite the garb. He let out a groan of annoyance, his head lolling back against the tree. Looking up at the study, he watched as the light turned on. He could see Palermo's form moving about and looked back to the entrance where Kate still stood. It looked like this was unofficially, rapidly becoming Dick Grayson and Kate Riordan's first case.

She smiled as the door opened. "Excuse me, I was wondering if I could use your telephone? You see my car broke down just down there," she turned around and angled herself slightly to point at an imaginary spot. The butler took a step out of the foyer and leaned forward to see her line of sight. Kate took a step, edging herself behind him. "Right by that group of trees. I just don't know what happened."

"I assure you I don't know either Madam but I can't admit you to this residence," he said, starting to close the door.

"But how am I supposed to call a tow truck?"

"I don't know. I'm sure you'll be fine."

"I am too," Kate said pushing the barrel of her gun into his side, "it's not really broken."

Outside, Nightwing shifted in the tree trying to see the other areas of the house. He need not have bothered, as there was a knock on the study door. Nightwing turned, in time to see Palermo turn as well. The door was pushed open before he could object, and Kate strode in. The gun was down at her side, and she quickly closed and locked the door.

"What do you think you're doing in here?" Palermo said, more annoyed than threatened.

“Shut up." Kate gestured grandly with the gun. "I have a few questions for you. Now sit down."

She watched as Palermo moved slowly around to the couch. He sat, glaring at the woman. Calmly, he picked up his drinking glass from the end table. It was almost at his lips when the realization hit him. “Wait, I know who you are. You’re the Riordan girl.”

“Right.”

“This is illegal.” Palermo leaned back in his chair, he was sure that she wasn’t going to do anything. Not after he knew who she was. He put his feet up on the ottoman once more, and picked up his drink. “Breaking and entering. Tressp--”

“This is personal,” Kate shot back, stalking forward and kicking the ottoman out from under his feet. “I know Eddie was working for you. I also know he was cheating you out of money too.”

“If you know all that, what do you want?” Palermo muttered annoyed, as he tried to wipe at his shirt.

“I want to know if you had him killed.”

Palermo looked up sharply. “If I did, why would I tell you?”

Kate calmly leveled her gun at him. From the eaves, Nightwing's eyes widened behind his mask. He tensed, ready to move. This was quickly getting out of control.

Palermo however, didn't share his concern. "You're not going to shoot me. You and I both know that I have a special rapport with the department."

"You're right." Kate stepped forward. She closed her hand tightly around the automatic and backhanded Palermo harshly. "Consider this a break down in relations."

Palermo spat harshly, his eyes full of rage. He sat up, one hand moving to the end table again. Kate thumbed off her safety. "Whatever you're going to do," she shook her head, "don't."

The confrontation had been pushed past Nightwing's comfort zone. With practiced aim, he flung a batarang into the study. It broke through the glass, knocking the gun from Kate's hand before embedding itself in the wall. Shocked, Palermo and Riordan turned. "You should take your own advice," Nightwing suggested.

"Who the hell are you?" Palermo demanded.

"Neighborhood watch," Nightwing responded.

"What are you doing here?" Kate spat, holding her sore wrist. Palermo took advantage of her distraction to move to his desk and hit a button.

"It doesn't matter," Palermo said, "You'll both be leaving soon."

For a moment, Kate froze. She made for the door, yanked it open, and then changed her mind. Palermo stood out of the way enjoying her disorientation. Moving back over to Palermo, she delivered a swift uppercut to his smirking expression. "I'm not going until I get an answer."

Palermo could hear people rushing up the stairs. He smiled. "Suit yourself."

"Oh geeze," Nightwing muttered and dove in the window. He quickly moved to Kate and went to grab her wrist. She darted away, returning with a punch of her own. Irritated, Nightwing blocked it with his arm. She stepped back then darted at him again. Nightwing sidestepped it easily. He was moving forward when the door burst open.

He looked up to see a flock of armed men, and made a quick decision. In moments, the room was filled with smoke. Through polarized lenses, he could see vague forms moving about. Quickly, he grabbed Kate around the waist, and jumped out the window. With his free hand, he launched a jumpline to the same tree he'd been perched in, and let the momentum ease them to the ground. The moment Kate's feet hit grass, she pulled away from him viciously and turned back to the house.

"I don't know who you think you are," she shouted, "but I'm not leaving."

"You can leave or I can drag you."

"You can try," Kate said with an edge of steel in her voice.

Floodlights popped on illuminating the lawn. For a moment, the two hesitated in the intensity of the bright light. Loud noise quickly filled the night air, whatever security Palermo had was no doubt scrambling towards the lawn.

"Suit yourself," Nightwing shrugged then started to sprint towards the edge of the grounds.

Kate scowled and looked back to the house then to the sketchy vigilante. Not a minute had passed before she started to run. Nightwing could hear her footfalls behind him and she quickly met his pace. As she ran, she pulled out her car keys. They slipped out through the trees, Palermo's guards still not far away. Kate didn't pause, but ran straight to her car. "Okay," she said, her concentration on unlocking the door, "I want to know exactly who you are and what--"

Kate's words stopped as she looked up and the masked man was gone. Urgently, she looked around but couldn't see any sign of him, only the dim glow of flashlights as they cut through the trees. "Son of a--" she cursed, getting into the car and slamming the door. She gunned the engines and sped of leaving Palermo's guards behind.

The bullpen was busy when Dick arrived. He spotted Kate and Sean at the far end by the coffee machine. He frowned slightly, Dick hadn't seen her all week and now after their nocturnal meeting, she was here. Dick settled at his desk, pulling out a few old files that he had begun to review. Bludhaven had its own particularities that he was just getting used to. Finally, under the pretense of hunger, curiosity got the best of him. He nodded acknowledgement to the two Riordan's then started to examine the hours old donuts.

"So what did he say?" Sean Riordan asked, pouring himself another cup of coffee.

Dick popped open the cardboard box glad that the talk was nothing more than simple gossip.

"Not much," Kate admitted.

"He just came up to you?"

"Well, he didn't know I was going to be there. It just happened. I'm sure he didn't plan it," Kate admitted irritably.

Dick looked down at the donuts once again. He caught Kate's steely glare. "Do you think this one's jelly?" he asked, but in return was simply ignored.

"I don't know if I feel comfortable about this," Sean admitted, and Dick could just imagine. Who would feel comfortable with a masked man running amuck in their city?

"It's not like I can do anything to change it," Kate said bitterly. "Besides, it doesn't affect you Sean."

"Of course it does, I'm part of this family. I deserve to know, right Jack?" Sean caught the older man's eye.

"You just couldn't wait to tell everyone huh, Katie?" Jack said harshly. Kate momentarily locked away, but then met his gaze. "Thank God, first shift's over. I'm out of here." He stood and brusquely put on his jacket.

"Chocolate glaze it is," Dick said holding a donut cheerfully.

Kate looked at the Grayson as if he'd just grown three heads, then turned her attention back to Sean. "Just leave it alone, Sean."

"Hey, what's bothering them?" Dick grabbed Sean's arm as he bit into his donut. "They don't seem to be in the best of moods."

"It's only family stuff," Sean assured him. "Don't worry about it."

"Right." Dick said skeptically. He frowned as he watched them go.

The soft sounds of Amazing Grace floated through the air, the band barely audible over the driving rain. The bad weather that had held off for most of the week now poured down with a flourish. Still, despite the gloom, the cemetery was full. The number of dark dress uniforms was almost overwhelming for a person to see. Walton undeniably had received quite the turn out.

Dick Grayson stood off towards the back, one more face in a sea of blue. His eyes drifted over the Riordans who flanked Walton's widow in every direction. He could see Kate, her arms draped supportively around a younger woman dressed entirely in black. Although Dick had never met her, there was no doubt in his mind as to who she was, Colleen Walton, the widow.

The ceremony didn't last long. It ran through the formalities and honors in a routine manner. Slowly, the crowd began to disperse and Dick made his way towards the front. Jack Riordan was hugging Colleen as Dick approached. "You be strong," he told her. "It'll al turn out all right. Don't worry hon." He kissed her cheek then parted, giving Dick a perfunctory nod as he did so.

Jack took Kate's arm and led her slightly away as Dick introduced himself. "Hello, Mrs. Walton," he said looking into the eyes of the young woman. "I know we’ve never met before, but I just wanted to express my condolences.”

“You must be Kate's new partner.” She wiped her hair out of her face. The dark red strands coming away with bits of concealer. The skin around her eyes was dark, from what Dick assumed was running mascara. She extended a hand to him that Dick took, squeezing gently.

“Yes, ma’am."

“You knew Eddie?”

“We met once.”

She nodded.

They stood in uncomfortable silence. Dick tried to stop himself from uttering assurances. He didn't want to fall onto the time old justice pledge, but at the same time felt he needed to say something. The words he wanted to speak didn't come, instead, he heard himself saying, "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," she said, a hint of a smile ghosting upon her face.

"I'm telling you Babs, it was crazy." Dick leaned against his bed frame. A mass of photos and clippings where laid out before him. He moved forward, adjusting the screen of his laptop, and then settled back again. "I just felt like there wasn't anything I could do or say that would make a difference and I think she knew that too."

"No progress on the murder?" Barbara asked, chewing her bottom lip slightly. Dick could hear the faint clack of keys in the background.

"My best lead fizzled out." Dick stuffed the last few pictures of Palermo and his runners into a folder. He held it out for Babs to see and then set it down on his night table. Looking back at the bedspread, he hadn't seemed to make even a little progress. "The remaining list of suspects seems to be the entire city."

"Want me to do some background work for you?"

"No. I can handle it."

"Dick, the world doesn't revolve around you, you know." Barbara pushed her glasses down irritably. "You just said you weren't making any progress."

"I'll get it." He picked up another picture only to put it back down again. "I just needed someone to talk to. God, Babs, you should have seen her."

Barbara frowned at his frustration. "You just feel helpless," she pointed out.

"Exactly."

"I just felt so bad. Everyone just trying to make her feel better and she just didn't look good either. Y'know, her make up was all smeared and drippy from the rain or crying. All the stuff girls hate."

"Yeah, well," Babara responded, brushing her hair away from her glasses, "it happens." She looked back at Dick who didn't seem to be blinking. "You're staring," she said only mildly annoyed.

He didn't respond.

"Dick?" Barbara asked concerned.

Dick snapped his fingers, smile coming to surface. "I just thought of something. I've got to go."

"It's the middle of the night! What is it that can't wait?"

"I think I've missed what was right in front of me."

He shifted nervously as he waited for the door to open. He heard shuffling in the apartment and composed himself.

Finally, Colleen’s soft voice called out. “Who is it?”

“Dick Grayson, ma’am. I was wondering if I could come in for a few minutes.”

Soames looked down at Redhorn, frown on his face. Unintimidated, the police cheif continued to chew at the end of his cigar. Redhorn spat once into a trash barrel, Soames's face filled with disgust as he did so. Finally, Redhorn leaned back in his chair, reaching for the matches on the desk.

Soames lifted the matchbook off the desk and out of Redhorn's reach. The police chief glared. "So what do you want me to say?" Redhorn demanded. "I can't help it if the Riordan bird decides she wants to bust in somewhere. It's not my problem."

"See, that's where we differ," Soames twirled the matchbook carefully between his fingers. "Because Palermo wasn't happy and he called me, and now I'm not happy, so I'm talking to you."

"Why bother, why don't you just do something about Riordan yourself?"

"That is where you come in." Soames sat grandly in front of the desk. He leaned back, comfortable in his control of the situation. "All I need you to do is close the case."

Redhorn shifted nervously. "I can't do that. It's an ongoing investigation and if--"

"If we did it, you'd have it closed. Truth being that we don't know and simply don't care. I don't need someone looking closely at Walton's track record." Soames tore off a match, lighting a cigarette of his own. He flipped the book unto the desk.

Redhorn let out a snort of disgust reaching for the matches tentatively. Soames tracked the movement with his eyes, and nodded slightly giving his approval. "It's not like anyone doesn't know."

"Which is why we end it here. Evidence is slim, even Riordan's given it up."

"She don't give anything up," Redhorn muttered. "Like a damned pit bull that one."

"So who’s to care, correct?" Soames let a smoke ring fly towards the police chief. He stood, moving towards the door. "Just see that it's done."

The office door closed with a faint click and Redhorn let out the cough he'd been holding. He glowered at the door, taking a few disgruntled puffs of his own cigar before flinging it angrily to the trash. Angry, he picked up the phone and dialed a few familiar numbers.

"You'll have to give me a moment," Colleen said. She rubbed at the dark circles under her eyes before she turned. "I'm tired and just out of the shower. Have a seat, Mr. Grayson."

She turned and headed down the narrow hallway leaving Dick alone. His eyes traveled around the room. The furnishings were typical middle class with the occasional mismatched item. The apartment wasn't messy but had a lived-in feel, complete with a BPD duffel bag in the corner. On the take, Walton should have been able to afford better. Wherever the money had been spent, it wasn’t here. Dick looked at the pictures on the end table. Some of Eddie, some of Colleen, and some of them together. He picked up one photo of Kate and Colleen, leaving behind a tiny listening device on the back of the frame. “You’re younger than Kate, aren’t you?”

"Oh, by a few years," Colleen admitted coming back into the living room. She looked refreshed, new makeup covering her face giving it a slight glow. She moved to the couch, picking up Dick's discarded jacket and hung it carefully in the closet before sitting down on the couch. "She acts very much the older sister. We have six brothers, but it's only the two of us."

“So you're close?” Dick asked.

"Very much she's been staying with me since... well for the week."

"I understand." He paused giving her a warm smile and a sidelong glance, then nodded towards the folder. "You look like her. The make up makes you look older though."

Colleen’s hand went to her face subconsciously even as she looked away from Dick’s concerned gaze. The warm smile disappeared from her face. "Why don't you tell me why you're here, Mr. Grayson?"

"I'll be frank. I've been trying to investigate on my own time."

"Heh. Kate said you looked sharp. Homicide is a bit eager for a rookie, as I'm sure you realize."

Dick greeted her with a guileless expression. "That's me. Always a boy scout."

"I just don't understand what you think I can help you with."

"Well, if you could tell me a little bit more about your husband. I know this might not be the appropriate time."

"Mr. Grayson--"

"Dick, please."

"Mr. Grayson," Colleen continued, "I don't know what you want to know. Kate's been working on the case, in fact, she's stopped. Not to be rude, but if my sister has moved beyond it, I don't know what talking to you would help." She stood as if to usher him to the door.

Sensing the meeting was about to come to an end, Dick pulled out his last card. "Your husband hit you didn't he?"

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She seemed distressed, her face growing pallor despite the makeup that covered it. Colleeen opened the door and held out his jacket for him. "I think it's time for you to leave."

"I'm sorry to have offended you, I just--"

"Goodnight, Mr. Grayson." She closed the door softly making sure to bolt all the locks. Breathing heavily, she sunk down to the floor, wringing her hands to stop them from shaking. After long moments, she got to her feet, moved to the kitchen and put the kettle on the stove. Once her hands were wrapped around a cup of tea, she moved back into the living room, her eyes fixed on the clock.

Soon enough, she heard the locks turn and Kate walked in. From a nearby fire escape, Dick watched through the window, listening to the soft sounds of the apartment.

Seeing the disheveled state of her sister, concern filled Kate's face. She dropped her bags by the door, taking care to lock it and then moved to sit next to Colleen on the couch. "What's wrong, hon?" she asked. "Talk to me."

"I just don't know if I can do this."

"Do what?" Kate said concerned.

"Your new partner was here. He said he was trying to find Eddie's killer. What if he figures it out?" Colleen sniffled, looking at her sister with bright eyes.

"Hey, now," Kate said drawing her into a hug. "That's not going to happen. I couldn't even figure it out, remember?"

"I just... I can't believe everything that's happened." Colleen wiped at her tears. "I didn't want it to happen. If I knew what he was going--"

"He was only looking out for you," Kate interrupted harshly. "It's nothing I wouldn't have done."

Colleen jerked away. She looked at her sister's face and was scared by the degree of seriousness she saw there. "But I didn't want him to do it. He said it was only to scare him and I never wanted him to die Kate. I wouldn't have called if I knew. How can you say something like that?"

"I'm sorry," Kate apologized and pulled her crying sister into a tight hug. "I'm sorry. You've got your family to lean on. Everything's going to be all right."

With a sick feeling in his stomach, Dick started to climb down the fire escape. He turned off the receiver, unconcerned at this time about fetching the listening device. His mind reeling he started to walk along the dark streets. It wasn't long before he stood outside the familiar alleyway, still blocked off by police tape. Looking down at the scene of the crime he tried to visualize what might have happened. Slipping under the yellow tape he began to talk lightly to himself.

"So Walton gets off first shift and starts heading home. He gets a call from his way, directing him to this spot. Walton pulls in, cuts the engine and waits. But I knew all that."

Dick began to pace the short length of the alleyway. "Anyone could have killed him, but I need to know why. Colleen knows who did and so does Kate. They're obviously protecting someone rather than turning them in."

Dick closed his eyes, angry words replaying in his memory. The first day, in the bullpen, Jack Riordan a little bit livid. “I told you Eddie, if you’re going to hang around with him--”

And then was Walton's reply. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard the lecture before.”

"Then you should start listening." Sean added.

"It makes sense," Dick murmured to himself, thinking of the conversation he'd just witnessed. However, it still left some questions. "I'm missing something," he said to the empty alleyway.

"The world doesn't revolve around you," Babs voiced mocked him.

Dick's eyes flew open. "That's it."

He waited in the bullpen, avoiding people's eyes pretending to be consumed in paperwork. Kate pecked idly away at the computer. Dick looked over at Sean and Jack Riordan over by the doorway before looking at the clock. Shift was almost up. Jack stretched loudly. "That it," he declared to the room. "I'm out of here." And he made his exit.

Dick fumbled with a bottle of liquid paper. The cap came off as the bottle was askew, spilling white liquid over a mass of papers. Kate looked up with a questioning eyebrow as Dick tried to scramble to stop it. "I'll be right back. I need to get some paper-- um-- some stuff to clean this--"

"Go," Kate urged, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Dick strode down the hallway, passing the bathroom, and headed outside. He spotted Jack Riordan getting into his car and called out to him. The older man stopped and Dick jogged the short distance to meet him.

"I was wondering if I could talk to you for a second," Dick offered.

Jack paused, giving him an assessing look. "No, I don't think Kate'll marry you. You're not her type. Too wholesome."

Dick let out a forced laugh. "No. Seriously. I have a theory as to who killed your brother in law."

Jack leaned against the side of his car, crossing his arms over his chest. His expression was carefully guarded. "Oh?"

"Yeah, I hope you wouldn't mind if I ran it by you first so I didn't embarrass myself in front of Kate. I figured you could give me some good insight, being old school and all."

"Well, then, I'll see what I think."

"I think the investigation is on the wrong track. Everyone thinks Walton was killed because he was a cop or a dirty cop."

"And you think?" Jack said carefully.

"Well, I mean, what if Walton was killed for something more petty. I mean," Dick locked eyes with the other man. "I've seen Colleen, she's a pretty girl under all those bruises."

"I'm not quite sure what you're getting at." The frown on Jack’s face began to deepen.

"There was a domestic disturbance call earlier this week, I checked. It was from Walton's residence. I'm sure as her uncle you couldn't have been happy about the man she married. I don't think she was happy with it either."

Jack opened his mouth to speak, already shaking his head but Dick continued on. "I saw Walton. His car was idle, his gun in his holster. I think he knew the murderer. Do you know of any family members of yours that disliked Walton, sir?" Dick locked eyes with the older man, intent on searching into his soul. Everything fit; he was sure. He just lacked any evidence to prove it. "Do you?" Dick prodded again.

Unease and anger surfaced on Jack's face, but finally came an ease of confidence. "I gotta say that's interesting." He gave a robust, but forced laugh. "Not everyday a rookie accuses a whole family of murder. A fine, upstanding police family, with no evidence to back it up. Ballistics didn't match the slug. No guns been found. No witnesses have come forward. Hell, for all I know Walton got hit by a stray shot. Stranger things have happened."

"So what do you think of my theory?" Dick pressed.

"You're smart kid. A wild imagination," he then added. "However, dreaming up tales won't get you far. Accusing your coworkers and their family of murder won't get you anything but trouble. If you want to make a difference, go harass the bad guys and leave everyone out of it. No one likes getting down and dirty in the mud, but it happens sometimes. Now, if you'll excuse me, I want to check on my niece."

"By all means, I think you've earned it." Dick moved out of the way, watching as Jack drove off, with his foot on the gas. "The rules apply to everyone," Dick spoke to the empty parking lot. "You're going to trip up one day, and I'll be ready."

Captain Addad sighed deeply. He flung the file folder on the desk disgusted. Kate and Dick waited patiently on the other side of the desk. It seemed much safer at this moment. Finally, Addad sat down in a huff. He pushed it towards the duo, and then grabbed it back. “Redhorn just called. The investigation is officially suspended.”

Dick looked at Kate, who simply nodded her understanding, then back to the Captain. Addad looked sharply at Kate. “Do you understand?”

“Of course, sir,” she said. “As far as I’m concerned,” she turned to look at Dick, “it’s a dead issue. Was that all?”

“Yeah. That was all. Dismissed.”

Kate rose and exited. Dick rose and turned, but didn’t exit. He waited until the door closed then caught Addad’s inquisitive look. “Isn’t that… odd, sir?” Dick ventured cautiously.

“Riordan backing off? Definitely.”

“No, with the Chief, I meant.”

“Not as odd as it should be. Listen Grayson, I’m not happy about it, but my hands are tied. I can’t run down ever criminal in the city without any evidence.”

“Sir. Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot, rookie.”

Dick swallowed once. “If you knew someone was guilty, but you didn’t have enough evidence to prove it, would you still want to know?”

Addad snorted. “You pull out all the stops don’t you? I’d give myself ulcers if I stayed up all night thinking of that. You have to take what you can get, Grayson. Sometimes things fall through the cracks, it sucks, but that’s the way it is. Simply put, you can’t save everyone. So, no I don’t think I’d want to know, I’d spend all my time all stressed because I couldn’t act on it.”

Dick nodded. “I see.”

“Not the answer you were expecting?” asked Addad, raising an eyebrow.

“I wasn’t quite sure what I was expecting,” he admitted.

“There’s only one benefit of knowing kid, its so you work harder to burn them when their time comes. That’s your only edge. The system works, just happens a lot slower in this part of town.”

“Well, I’ll see if I can’t change that, ” Dick said with a smile.

“Enthusiasm. You’re such a rookie,” Addad said with a slight laugh. “I’d love to see it kid. I really would.”

Dick nodded his understanding, turned and walked out of the office.

“Maybe you will,” he whispered.

Dick shuffled out of the precinct. His steps had a weary quality to their usual energized gait. For the first time since leaving New York, he truly felt alone. This wasn’t anything like he had planned. No allies. No one to back him. He wasn’t about to call for help. He’d gone through more and would grit his teeth and get through it. It just wouldn’t be a pleasant prospect is all, hard working, exciting, anything but easy.

Dick sighed and started down the steps. He waved to Amy Rohrbach who was sitting on the steps. She looked up at him in greeting. “Nice day,” she said and popped a candy chew in her mouth.

“I suppose,” Dick said. He wasn’t exactly in them mood for small talk.

If Amy picked up on his reluctance, she showed no signs of it. She gestured to the building with her thumb. “You’ve made a lot of enemies in there rookie. Candy?”

Dick looked at the proffered package and frowned. “No thanks.”

“What did you do?” She looked up at him in confusion, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the sun.

To make it easier, Dick sat back down beside her. “Something I thought was right.”

“Was it right?”

“Yeah. It was right.”

“They don’t think so.” Amy popped another chew, again offering the package to Dick.

This time he took one, popping it into his mouth. “Yeah. Well. That’s them.”

“Don’t get me wrong rookie,” Amy said gnawing happily. She adopted a tone of seriousness, making sure she had his attention, “They’re good, but they’ve got their own code of honor. Blood before the law.”

“I noticed,” Dick said bitter sarcastic. He took another candy out of the pack.

“How do you feel about that?”

“I’m not sure.” He leaned back at the steps looking at the sky. The buildings looked different in the daytime. Then again, things always seemed clearer in the light. His thoughts drifted to his family: Bruce, Tim, Babs, and Roy. Then he thought of what he’d do to protect them. He’d move Heaven and Earth, and do anything. Almost anything. Not murder. Never murder. “There’s always other ways.”

“Close enough.” Amy stood, dusting off her pants. She looked back at Dick who got to his feet. He hadn’t any idea what was going on, but didn’t want to be left out.

“For what?”

“I’m looking for a partner.”

Dick shook his head. “I’ve got a partner.”

“No you don’t. Kate was in yammering to the Chief. You’re floating free rookie.”

“Why me?”

“Why not? You seem to be on the up and up and you’re easy on the eyes. You owe me half a pack of candy and I’d like to keep an eye on you until I get it. Besides, you look like you could use a friend.” She smiled warmly and extended a hand. “We’ve never officially met. Sergeant Amy Rohrbach.”

“Dick Grayson, your new partner.”

“You won’t regret it rookie. See you tomorrow. Bright and early, in case you haven’t noticed, there’s a lot of work to do.”

“Believe me; I know that all too well.”