Prince of Darkness ~ Gotham

~ Chapter Ten: Protecting The Innocent ~

"I-I'm telling the truth, I didn't kill those guys. I mean, a cop?! Why would I kill a cop?!" Smikers stuttered as he sat at the interrogation table back at the precinct. "Maybe because you're a thieving, cop-murdering pile of crap," Harvey snarled. "But, mind you, that's just a theory," "You confessed to stealing the balloons. On what purpose?" Jim questioned. "Look, I did steal the balloons, but I owed these loan sharks, and-and if I didn't pay 'em, they were gonna cut off stuff!" Smikers explained, shivers running down his spine at the fear of being harmed.

"So if you didn't kill Danzer and Cranston, who did? Who'd you sell the balloons to?" Jim spoke calmly and collected, unlike his partner who was getting more and more agitated by the prolonged silence. Smikers glanced down at his lap before looking the detectives in the eyes again. "I never saw his face. We had a drop-off point to exchange the balloons and money," Smikers admitted. Harvey had had enough. "You know what we got here, Jim? We got us a criminal mastermind, hmm? Not only is the murder weapon in the stratosphere, but so are the bodies. It's the perfect crime!" Harvey shook his head. 

Smikers appeared to mutter something under his breath, but it was rather quiet, and the detectives could barely hear it. "What was that?" Jim asked him. "T-the bodies will come back," Jim and Harvey looked at each other before they leaned over the table, closer to Smikers. "What are you talking about?" Jim squinted. Smikers looked at them surprised; they most likely didn't know how the weather balloons worked. After all, they weren't your average carnival fair balloon. "Tell us what you mean genius, or I'll beat it out of you," Harvey threatened, cracking his knuckles for further intimidation.

"They rise up, and it gets colder and colder, and the balloon gets brittle, and the helium expands," Smikers explained. "Then what?" Harvey pressed on. "It pops..." Smikers finished.

Not long after the interrogation wrapped up, Jim and Harvey got word that Cranston's body had returned to the ground. Not only was his body splattered all over the streets like a bug on a windshield, but he also crushed an old lady as she walking her dog. The dog wasn't hurt, but it would surely remember the traumatic and grisly sight of its owner's demise. "I'm really starting to dislike this case," Harvey sighed, watching his colleagues scrape up the pieces of Cranston's body, as well as place the older lady into a body bag. What was left of her broken body, at least.

"Where do you think they find shovels that big, huh?" Harvey wondered. Jim had just gotten off the phone with Captain Essen, where only more bad news came in. A third victim of the Balloonman was identified, Cardinal Quinn. "He was meditating in his garden. Alvarez is on his way to the scene," Jim explained. Harvey could only roll his eyes as not only was there pressure from the citizens and the rest of the GCPD, but now the church was going to be breathing down their necks. "Forget the fact that Quinn was known as the diddling priest," Harvey continued to complain.

"Here's what we found in Cranston's pockets. What wasn't smashed to bits," An officer handed them a small evidence bag containing Cranston's badge, wallet, and a yellow piece of paper with names written on it. Harvey's eyes widened as he examined the bag, noticing a disturbing detail. "Why's your name on this, Jim?" He questioned, handing Jim the evidence bag. Jim took a closer look at it through the tiny scrawls written on the bag, and he looked back at Harvey with realization.

"I know who the Balloonman is,"

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