Gotham: Jerome's Story

Chapter Four

With Jim's suspicion not at rest, he'd been questioning Mr. Cicero, the Blind Fortune Teller at the Circus, before later having Jerome join the interrogation.

"Hi Jerome." Jim breathed, leaning back as Jerome entered the room, "Please, take a seat. You know Mr. Cicero from the show?"

"Yes sir," Jerome replied, sitting down beside Mr. Cicero, "Hello, Mr. Cicero."

"Good evening, Jerome." The old man greeted, his eyes staring into the empty air.

Jim took a seat opposite the two, swallowing as Lee stood behind them, "Do you know why you're here?" he asked Jerome.

"Did you find out who killed my Mother?!" Jerome whispered, leaning in closer.

"You killed your Mother, Jerome." Jim declared strongly.

Jerome leaned back, the redness around his eyes becoming more apparent, "Me?!"

"You killed her up on that hill, and Mr. Cicero let you clean up in his trailer." Jim explained his theories firmly, "He told you to scratch the Satanist stuff on the hatchet and throw it off the bridge."

Looking deeply taken aback, Jerome responded "Sir, that's... Absurd, and- and offensive."

"But it's the truth." Jim insisted, his eyes moving over to Mr. Cicero whom had been sitting there quietly. "What I don't know is why this man risked so much to help you; I think he's your Father."

Jerome raised his eyebrows, breathing out deeply as his voice became more dominant, "You don't know what you're talking about - my Father was a Sea Captain."

Feeling confused, Jim shared a look with Lee before turning back to Mr. Cicero, "Am I wrong, Mr. Cicero?"

"Yes." Mr. Cicero blandly replied.

"He was a Sea Captain," Jerome pushed, "His name was Sven Carlson. He died at sea."

"What was the name of his ship?" Jim questioned, taking on board Jerome's story.

Stammering, Jerome hesitantly replied "He worked on a lot of different ships."

Shaking his head with a slight smirk, Jim corrected himself, "The one he went down in."

Truth hitting him, Jerome slowly responded through tearful eyes "She never said..."

Standing in the corner of the room, Lee tilted her head, feeling sorry for Jerome.

"We can do a blood test to prove I'm right," Jim continued and Mr. Cicero smirked up at him, "Takes only half an hour to get a full proof result, isn't that right, Doctor Thompkins?" He asked, looking to his girlfriend.

Lee glared at him for a moment, "Yes," she lied.

Jim watched the old man and Jerome, attempting to persuade either of them to come clean, "Save yourself a needle?" 

Mr. Cicero gulped, turning away from everyone as he spoke up "I do hate needles." Jerome turned to face him as he continued, "I'm sorry Jerome."

Stuttering, Jerome began to feel uncomfortable, "W- What are you talking about?"

"He's right." Mr. Cicero mumbled, facing Jerome's way, "I am... Your Father."

"No, you're not! Why would you say that?!" Jerome demanded, his voice getting choked up as Mr. Cicero held his full focus.

"You must've suspected the truth?!" Mr. Cicero prodded, his intentions not to upset his son.

"You're not my Father," Jerome continued, denying the truth, "My Mother would never-"

Mr. Cicero interrupted, "Your Mother was a cruel woman, she was often unkind to me. But she did once... Love me. In her way."

All eyes were on Jerome as Mr. Cicero tried to comfort him, "And," he added, "She loved you very much. That's why she gave you a better Father."

The hidden truth, which had been held from him all these years, was too much for Jerome as he broke down in heartbreaking sobs - hanging his head low.

Jim pulled his lip, feeling empathy for Jerome as he looked back to Lee.

The sobs were soon followed by a low chuckling cascade as Jerome turned to his Father, "My Mother... Was a cold-hearted whore who never loved anyone. And she'd never touch a pathetic, old, creep like you." He spoke, his voice drastically lower and more firmer. 

"All these years," Mr. Cicero breathed, "Do you think I was kind to you because I'm such a good man? If I wasn't your Father; would I helped you as I have after what you did?!"

Clenching his jaw, Jerome snapped his head at Jim, though, Jim was already glaring at Jerome with disgust. "My Father?" Jerome said, attempting to move on from the years of deceit momentarily as he accepted, "Hm, I'll be damned."

Jim and Lee both furrowed their eyebrows at Jerome, shocked by how quickly he'd changed throughout the interrogation.

"Nah, it's very funny," Jerome pointed, the tear trickle noticeable on down his cheek as he began chuckling again. "Ba-dum-chhh!" Jerome grinned, playing make-believe drums, "Looks like the bitch got me with a zinger in the end!"

"Why did you kill your Mother, Jerome?" Jim questioned, his facial expression stern.

"Oh, you know how Mothers are," Jerome waved his hand in the air mindlessly, before turning his focus back to Jim, his voice changing one more, "She just... Kept... Pushing." He said through gritted teeth, "And I'm like 'Fine Mom, be a whore.'"

He sniffled, "Be a drunken whore, even. But don't be... A nagging, drunken, whore. You know?" He let a smile loose for a second before returning to his mad state, "Don't come yell at me to do the dishes if you've been banging a clown in the next room!" He yelled, slamming his hand on the table as silence followed. 

After a minute, he added, "You know?" before breaking out into a continuous, maniacal cackle.