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Samuel Locke. Aged 34. White male, brown eyes, blonde hair. Body found behind his workplace, The Dark side bar. Cheeks lacerated. Blood. Everywhere.
A small, configured device had been burning a hole in Alex's pocket the last 12 hours. She was scared she'd accidentally trigger a button or alarm. It was a finicky thing.
"If another murder happens, this is where you can locate me." The Batman had told her gruffly last night, handing a tiny device to Alex. It had a small analog screen, a green button and a red one. "When you hit the green, it calls me." It was like an old fashioned cell phone, and resembled a pager. "Not traceable or anything. If a murder identical to this comes up, you notify me this way, understand?"
After she introduced who she really was, he straightened up and took the scenario a little more seriously. Reading over the file made a familiar feeling ache in his bones. Not your usual homicide. The Riddler's riddles rang through his mind. He saw the serious look on her face. He also knew Gordon wouldn't just send some random person from GCPD to meet him. He slightly recalls Gordon mentioning this Alex Flores woman and how she's quick witted and intelligent.
"Okay." Was all she replied, taking the device from him, and beginning to examine it.
Here she was, after a short nap, she was back at her desk, mentally preparing herself to interview some witnesses from the murder the night prior. She didn't wanna trigger the device stupidly. She hasn't even mentioned it to Gordon. He seemed to be busy today with other officers and crime scene investigators. Alex was usually stuck with the interviewing, for convenience really. She had a knack for liars and body language. Asking all the right questions. Avoiding the wrong ones.
She wondered when she woke from her nap if all this Batman business was a dream she had, but of course it was real. The device in her pocket said so. She then started becoming paranoid it was some sort of tracking thing.
"Flores." She looks to the right where an officer is motioning her over, next to some strangers, who she assumes are eyewitnesses. She stands from her desk, grabbing her notepad and pen, making her way over.
She sat in the interrogation room with some woman who couldn't be older than 30. The girl looks a bit worried, but also relieved. "My name is Detective Alex Flores. Just letting you know we have a camera in the corner to record, just so we can rewatch footage in case I forget to jot stuff down, are you comfortable with that?" She speaks easily, uncapping her pen. The woman nods. "Can you state your name for the record?"
"My name is Janice Carling."
"Okay Janice. Can you tell me what you remember from last night? At Dark side."
Janice starts fiddling with her fingers. "So uh, I was drinking with some of my girl friends. We kinda had been bar hopping, just starting off the weekend off. A bit after we got to the Dark Side. Anyways, they had a preference then some little comedy sketches or whatever. This guy went in, didn't introduce himself like others had. Started with these really dark jokes, like black comedy shit, like about tragic accidents or people dying, it was fucked." She huffs out quickly. "Anyways, people were kinda not engaging with him. The bartender started kinda yelling, telling him to get the fuck off stage. Anyways, I'm sorry, but the rest was kinda blurry. I think he kinda got shoved out by the bartender and maybe some security. Next thing I knew, the police were there." Alex nods and scribbles down key points she's getting. Soaring the unnecessary details.
