Technically we finished up Giant's Bridge on the fourth day, but since it was before lunchtime and we were still months ahead of the original plans, I wasn't inclined to quibble details. Instead I just shrunk the workers back down, in place of a shrinking solution just ripping the magic out and letting it disperse.
"Good job everyone. McAuslan, maybe think about a shower?" The guys laughed. Nailing it.
Freddie's apartment is closest, so the three of us all head there for lunch. A few years back he upgraded to a significantly nicer place, Wayne Construction (have I mentioned recently what a frighteningly high proportion of everything in this city is a Wayne subsidiary?) so it got the fancy quakeproofing sliders.
It's a pretty upscale place, studio, I think they're called. Not a ton of personal effects besides, in place of honor over the kitchen table, a framed and autographed Grey Ghost poster. Which is actually only the tip of the iceberg on a disquietingly large stockpile of collectibles for that series. And the guy calls me a nerd.
A problem quickly manifested in our lunch plan, none of our dauntless trio of bachelors really cooks. A weakness we should probably look into fixing at some point, for now we settled on sandwiches.
"What's next on our agenda?" I asked.
Vinny shrugged. "I sort of assumed we were making it up as we went along."
"We absolutely are. So I want to hear your thoughts."
"Well," Vinny paused a moment. "I think we're solid on immediate physical needs for the moment, and we're finally getting the sewage situation under control, thank goodness. We still need you to talk to Freeze, and maybe do something about Robinson Park, lot of arable land but we can't use it while people are disappearing."
"That'll be Poison Ivy, I suspect." At least I think it was? Something about a plant woman and a bunch of orphans, right?
"Oh, and there's still some street gangs running around."
"Freddie can take care of them, can't you Freddie?"
"Sure. In my copious free time." He slides a plate towards me. Peanut butter sandwiches, two, can't stand jelly. I bite in and wince as a ridiculous quantity of peanut butter almost squirts into my mouth. Too much. Way too much. Nevertheless I try to chew and swallow with every outward sign of appreciation. Freddie is my friend, after all.
Vinny, him I'm not too sure of, especially when he's got that smirk like right now.
"Okay, I'll consider the gangs provisionally handled. Talking to Freeze about power, and Ivy about growing things in the park. What's next?"
Vinny accepted his own sandwiches and tore a bit off, chewing as he seemed to order his thoughts. "Couple of Gordon's people have been racking up considerable debt at the Iceberg. Penguin hasn't put the squeeze on any of 'em yet, but it's the obvious play."
Freddie snorted. "Bet you Santa Prisca he's been rigging those games for influence."
Vinny snorted. "Sucker bet, much as I'd love to slide the last bits of Earth out from under you."
Oh yeah, they started out betting farms twenty years ago. Things have escalated a bit since then, until my lieutenants were gambling with real estate spanning the solar system. I don't think even they are keeping track any more.
"And if that's his game for cops, we have to assume he's trying to subvert our little council in the same way. Poke about, Vinny, and see what you can find."
He winced a little. "Hate to pry into people's privacy. But if we're going to do this, we can't have Penguin getting his fingers in every pie or everything we build will be rotten from the foundation on up."
"If it keeps him occupied, I'm willing to count it as a win. Just so we know who's reliable and who isn't, we can make sure he never has quite as much power as he thinks he has." And if he gets too out of hand, well we've put plenty of bodies in the Gotham River for less worthy causes, I'm just worried that Cobblepot, like a certain clown, may be too popular to kill.
"Actually, we've got another issue we need to sort out, and I'm surprised neither of you saw it." Freddie announces. We trade looks before I take a big bite of the world's least edible sandwich to buy time.
He deflates a hair at not getting a response. "The guys we have in the work-gangs. Right now they work or they get the Wrath of Bookworm, but that alone isn't going to cut it. Nobody's tracking who's behaving well, nobody's talking about release. Heck, we don't have a court to hear any cases and so far, we've just been sending everyone who doesn't wise up after one warning to Blackgate. No trial. Nothing. I hate to say it, boss," he looked up at the square jaw of the Grey Ghost, "but if there's no sense of fairness, of justice, there's not a lot of reason for those cons to keep going on. We'll have trouble over it, sooner or later. And I'd bet on sooner."
Damn, he was right. I tried to chew faster to answer him, and it didn't work out great. So I settled for nodding.
You need a carrot and a stick. Punishment and reward, fear and hope, or possibly greed. There was never an hour I spent in prison or Arkham where I didn't think about the day I'd be out.
Well, strictly speaking, a libriomancer always has options. One whiff of burning wraithstone, and even the roughest prisoners would turn into good lobotomized zombies with no desire to do anything ever but obey what simple commands they were given. Or I know where slave collars exist that would immediately punish any attempt at harm or defiance with unimaginable agony, and reward obedience with a narcotic bliss, couple weeks with those and there'd be no trouble.
Of course, then I would lose Gordon and his Blue Boys, and Vinny, at a bare minimum. Probably tons of respect from the populace. Eh, mind-slave isn't exactly my flavor in any case. Except as a temporary thing. To accomplish a specific objective. Well, there was once or twice... I'll just stop digging now, huh?
I finally finish. "So, we need a court."
Vinny snorted. "Good luck. The lawyers must have been the first wave out of the city, rats from the sinking ship." He smirked self-deprecatingly. "If we turned the camps upside down and shook, I'd be amazed if we found half a dozen law students. And even if we somehow set up this mock trial, who in the hell would preside? There's not a judge left on the island, I promise you that."
Freddie held up a hand to hide his own grin. I struggled with mine, and took another bite of my sandwich.
"Agreed." I said when I finally got it down. "I doubt there's anyone who fits our rather unique qualifications. We're not in America anymore, so any case is a first-time precedent setter for Gotham, even if we're acting like a lot of law still applies. They'd need to be sharp, almost inhumanly perceptive."
Freddie chimed in. "Familiar with the political situation, a lot of cases could be very sensitive."
"Good point, they'd have to be able to see through any tricks. But be objective too, fair and appearing fair, or there's no point."
"Yeah." Vinny looked down to his plate, now occupied by a single half-sandwich. How did he eat that so fast? "And we might as well wish for the moon, as long as we're talking about things that can't happen."
"They'd need experience, above all." Freddie said.
"Good point, even among the lawyers left, I'm sure there's at least one person with loads of experience twisting the law in Gotham every which way."
Vinny looks up and finally notices the way Freddie and I are looking at him.
"No. I mean it this time, Boss. No! Nope. Nuh-uh. Nein, nyet, non. Never going to happen. With all the work I'm already doing there is no way on God's green Earth that I--"
============================================
"All rise!" When she wants to, Detective Montoya can do a drill sergeant proud. How is something of a mystery, given this is something like the third time I've seen her without a cigarette in her mouth. "The Honorable Vincent Giambrone is here. All persons having business before the court are invited to draw near and give their attention. Court is now in session."
Apparently she'd done a stint as a bailiff before, which along with the stenographer and Vinny himself, made her one of our experts. The Right Honorable Vinny sat himself down and threw me a look of purest loathing, with just a hint of smugness.
The Gotham Central Courthouse is something of a heap of rubble right now, but you'd be amazed at the dignity that can be conferred upon a YMCA basketball court with the right furnishings, a big wooden seal- a rush job by gratefully employed carpenters- and a pair of flags.
The flags had proven their own difficulties. The stars and stripes were as likely to provoke outrage, or at least be a distraction, as add to the expected solemnity of the court. Luckily, a local Boy Scout troop had flags for New Jersey and Gotham (yes, US cities, counties and municipalities have their own flags, ours is half blue, half yellow with an elaborate owl on it). The Jersey one wasn't technically any more accurate than the American, but less likely to provide a problem. Still, after some debate and I'm convinced purely to spite me, Vinny had it replaced with a black-and-yellow Batman icon, arguing that if anything represented justice and security to the people of Gotham, that was it.
I reluctantly conceded, having no real authority to order him in this matter anyways. But I swear, if that becomes our new symbol...
We'd need something more than this shoddy flag at some point too. I was thinking of dusting off the old family coat of arms, Or with Chevron Chequy (yellow with a checkerboard chevron) and three falcons. It did break my rule about not stamping my own name on stuff, but only Vinny would really know the connection, and that amused me. Or go with the reliable open-book-and-torch of academia. Perhaps something more historic to Gotham? We'd figure it out.
"The court will now hear the case of Gotham V. Cobb. Is the prosecution ready?" The rather young lawyer says she is, followed a moment later by her equally fresh-faced counterpart.
Vinny looks uncomfortable, but I'm confident he can handle it. He's a smart man and as we said to get him to take the job, the only real choice. Imperfect, for his close association with myself and the city's administration, but Vinny knows the law better than anyone in the city right now, and he can see to the truth of matters. There are limits to our ability to paper over our issues with magic, but those are still in the future if we can just avoid burnout in us three and build up the proper structures we need. All in all, I feel pretty good about this whole thing. This can work.
But now I need to go see a man with an ice castle about letting me pack up my handheld fusion plant. Never let it be said my life was boring.