Prince of Darkness ~ Gotham

~ Chapter Thirty Six: The Electrocutioner ~

"The Electrocutioner"! Cute. No pressure," Harvey looked at the morning newspaper, where the black and white photo contained two of their fellow officers and the electrode man. "Don't worry, we'll get him," Jim said, still focused on his papers. "And we've got seventeen hours to do so," Harvey reminded. "I love the name. It's catchy and has drama. The Electro-cutioner," Ed bounced on the balls of his feet like an excited schoolboy. "Speaking of which, given the general mode of attack, may I suggest you both wear your department-issue galoshes while you're out in the field?" He reached to the table behind him and held two sets of black rubber boots.

"Galoshes?" Harvey raised a brow. "In the event of electrical misadventure, your footwear should be insulated," Ed explained. "No, Mom! I'm not going to wear my rubbers on the case!" Harvey sighed. Jim shook his head, remembering how much of a complainer Harvey was. He held his hands out to Ed, telling him to give him a pair of the boots. And with a tiny smile, Ed handed him a set. "Seriously?" Jim just shrugged and sat back at his desk.

"All right, so what do we know?" Jim questioned as Ed walked away. "Gruber wasn't too happy with Irwin. Maybe they were partners in crime, Irwin turned on him, and Gruber took the fall," But before either men could add more info to their case, someone cleared their throat behind Jim and spoke his name. And when he turned around, he saw it was Lee. "Dr. Thompkins?" Jim asked, standing up. "My friends call me Lee," she clarified. "Congratulations, you got your job back," "Or not, depending. It's good to see you," Jim smiled.

"I know you're caught up with the escape. That's why I'm here," Lee reached into her bag and pulled out a weird-looking doll. Jim inquired if everything was okay, mentioning it must've been chaos at the asylum. "We're getting by just fine, thanks for asking," Lee assured. Having heard the entire conversation, Harvey cleared his throat, grabbing their attention. "Oh, right, this is my partner, Harvey Bullock," Jim introduced. "Hola," Harvey waved. "Detective Bullock," Lee smiled in acknowledgment.

Harvey took notice of the creepy doll she was holding and asked her who her little friend was. Looking down at her hand, Lee remembered why she was there in the first place. "One of the women in my wing is a pagan sorceress. She's very popular. The inmates make dolls to look like people that they want to curse. And then they give it to the sorceress to curse them. In exchange for extra soda and candy," She explained. "I curse you all the time, and you never give me candy," Harvey squinted at Jim.

"I asked her if Gruber had ever given her a doll to curse, and she said yes. This is the doll. His name is Mr. M," Lee handed Jim the doll. "You owe me for a double six-pack of root beer," Jim examined the doll further, his mind trying to picture the person the doll looked like as he repeated the name Mr. M under his breath. "Who does this look like to you?" Jim turned to Harvey, holding up the doll. 

Slowly, both sets of eyes widened as they realized who their next target was. A certain rival mafia boss. Quicker than bunnies, the detectives drove out to Maroni's territory to warn him about the potential threat, and just as they reached the halfway point, they got a call that there had been an attack on Maroni's restaurant. And when they pulled up to the curb, they found the mafia boss sitting outside the ambulance wrapped in a blanket with soot, and cuts all over his face and suit. "I don't know what happened. It was like a silent bomb," Maroni spoke as the detectives asked him what happened.

"You know who did this, right?" Jim asked. "Who?" Maroni returned the question, looking Jim straight in the eyes. "A few years ago, Jack Buchinsky and partners unknown knocked over four banks. Killed six people. Buchinsky went down for life, and his partners were never caught. You're one of those partners," Jim speculated. "What guy was this? Bu... Uh... Who?" Maroni tried to keep a straight face and tried to act like he had no idea what Jim was talking about. While the mafia boss didn't want to admit it out loud, he knew he was failing miserably.