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Chapter 4 - A Meeting

The warehouse looked like an open casting call for a 1970s cop show like Starsky and Hutch or S.W.A.T., an attempt by the producers to inject local �color� into a script calling for a pimp or a drug dealer. There were twelve men gathered in a semi-circle beneath a bare, brilliant light, and they all looked like the media�s version of a well-to-do pimp. Loud shirts, fake fur and pleather, wide-brimmed velvet hats and lots and lots of gold jewelry were the fashion du jour. Diamonds too big to be fake glittered on the pinkies of almost all of them. They were a racially inclusive group: the color of your skin didn�t bar you from this club, only the size of your stable.

Selina eyed them all with naked contempt, breathing through her nose, trying to bite down the anger she felt towards men like them. She was clad in her Catwoman costume, insulated by her own abilities and power, but they still had the ability to frighten her. She stood on the periphery of the shadows, barely visible, waiting.

Over a forest of ostrich feathers springing from velvet hats, she caught movement in the shadows. Slam was out there, somewhere, watching the meeting he�d set up. He�d lectured her on the importance of her conference with the twelve men: each had the largest stable in the city and by most standards, they were �good� people. None of them ran under-age girls. They didn�t traffic in young boys either, or allow their girls to use wasting drugs like heroin or crack. Saints, by some standards. It didn�t change how Selina felt about them, but it did make the meeting possible.

�You�ll want to hear what they have to say,� Slam had claimed, and Selina trusted Slam more than almost any other man in her life. It didn�t mean she had to like who he thought she should grant an audience to.

�Like I tol you, sweet-cheeks,� Randy, the de-facto leader of the group, was saying, �We�s in trouble.�

�And why is that my problem?� Selina asked him, bored.

Randy didn�t appear to be phased. He blinked behind rhinestone-encrusted sunglasses and licked his lips, stalling. Selina noticed that he�d capped his teeth with gold.

�Our girls is missin�, and we droppin� like flies.�

�Someone is taking you out?� she translated, proper grammar and elocution more of a barrier than either race or gender.

�Thas right,� Randy confirmed, nodding so vigorously that Selina was afraid the ostrich feather stuck in the brim of his hat might actually take flight. �Two of ma girls, Cherry and Lucinda, they up and went off. Then my man Dee, he get hit by a truck the same day.�

Selina nodded, pretending to understand. It sounded like coincidence, but one after another, the East End pimps told a similar story. Some of their �girls� would disappear and then one of their underlings, usually muscle-for-hire, would turn up dead. The pimps were spooked, claiming that someone was after them. Selina listened half-heartedly to their paranoid ramblings and posturing jive, interrupting when she�d heard enough.

�Why should I care?� she asked softly, her voice laced with enough venom to make the men closest to her back away. �You make a living by hurting women. Now, my partner said you had a business proposal and, while I normally don�t take meetings with �men� like you,� she injected heavy irony into the term, �my partner said I�d find what you had to say interesting. So far, it�s like sitting through The English Patient on a horse tranquilizer.�

The pimps glanced at each other nervously, and Selina wondered if any of them had ever spoken to a woman without a red-hot coat hanger backing them up.

Randy removed his hat, revealing a balding pate. He dropped the playa act long enough to convince Selina of his sincerity and, more importantly, his fear. �We�s bein� hunted. Maybe you don�t care �bout what happens to us, but the girls��

Selina shrugged, making it clear that she didn�t really care what happened to a bunch of pimps. Randy got the message and leaned closer.

�We�s offering a reward, some serious green. An hundred large for info, another hundred if you can stop the boy who�s takin� us down.�

She raised her eyebrow. That was quite a sum, even for big-time operators like these who never had less than twelve girls on the stroll at once. Randy alone owned half the massage parlors in Gotham.

�And what makes you think I�d want your money?� she asked him. �I know how you earn it.�

This time, Randy removed his sunglasses. One eye was a milky white, the other a dark brown. Selina guessed he�d lost the pigment in the one eye during a knife fight. Her heart broke for him; she fought to keep a sneer off her face.

�You know how we make our money?� he repeated. Selina folded her arms, waiting. �Our girls is clean. No drugs - not the H, anyway - and we don�t hurt em. Not like some brothas�we treat our girls like ladies.�

�Because it doesn�t pay to damage the merchandise,� Selina finished for him. Randy bowed his head in agreement.

�They�s our livelihood. Brothers who bust they heads or drug �em ain�t pushing the best product, and everyone knows it.�

�Look,� Selina cut him off, sick of listening to him philosophize about pimp business ethics. Maybe the syntax was different, but all the pimps Selina had ever known spoke the same language: money, punctuated by a closed fist.

�So you raised the money for me to find whoever is hurting you,� Selina surmised. �What makes you think I�d be interested?�

�Your street rep-�

�Is that I pull big scores,� she told him bluntly. �200 large isn�t even a blip on my radar. I�m a thief, and a good one. Not a detective, and not a killer-for-hire.�

The pimps looked at each other, consulting silently. They nodded to Randy, who stood. �We know this ain�t your thing. And maybe the money isn�t sweet enough,� he acknowledged. �But Cat,� he paused, trying to get past the fear enough to convince her, �they ain�t no one else to call on this. We got mercs, muscle, bad men who do righteous work. But this is�different. This belongs to a mask.�

That caught her interest. �Why?�

�Jus a feeling,� Randy replied, and the other pimps nodded. Selina�s night vision struggled to compensate for the movement of so much day-glow orange. �This would be the Bat�s thing, only we ain�t seen him around these parts for a good long while. And the other, that lady who works with the girls in Newtown, don�t like the East End. Too hot for her.�

Selina guessed that Randy was talking about the Huntress, the only other vigilante in town who didn�t seem to answer directly to Batman. Selina had only encountered her a few times, and it hadn�t been pretty.

�If I take you up on the reward, I get paid just for looking, no promises, okay?� Selina told them. The pimps had another silent consult and Randy stuck out his hand.

�We got a deal, pretty lady,� he said, working his charm, such as it was. Selina didn�t shake his hand.

She left them there, sitting in the cold circle of bright light.

Selina located Slam in the periphery of light and left the warehouse with him, piling into the Plymouth and waiting until they�d cleared the block before speaking. �I feel like I need a shower.�

�Sorry about that,� Slam told her, watching the road. �But I figure, we could use the money. And if someone really is going after the women and their pimps, you�d be involved sooner or later. Might as well score some juice while we�re at it.�

Selina grinned. �You�re a credit to capitalism, Slam,� she told him. Slam nodded, letting her take the wheel while he lit a cigarette. They motored along aimlessly for a while to make sure no one was tailing them. Slam hit a switch on the Plymouth�s dash which would change the pattern of the front and rear lights. Anyone following them through the dark, twisting streets of Old Gotham wouldn�t be able to keep up for long.

A shadow flickered along the roofline and Selina bit her lip. None of the pimps were trying to tail them, but someone was. �Pull over,� Selina asked, and Slam complied without question. She slid out of the passenger door, crouching on the ground to speak to Slam through the barely-open passenger door.

�What?� he asked.

�I think someone has requested the pleasure of my company. I�ll see you tomorrow?�

Slam nodded, rolling the Plymouth forward as Selina slammed the door shut and took off up the side of a building. She made the roof quickly, and he was there, waiting.

�Interesting company you�re keeping,� Batman rumbled, and Selina knew he didn�t mean Slam.

�They requested a meeting,� she told him, turning to look at the street below. �And I have some information that you might be interested in. The dead girl on the train, the Jane Doe��

�Yes?� he asked, urging her to the point. Selina glared at him. He had no respect for the rhythms of dramatic storytelling.

�I think she was connected. She was working the street, at least until she got pregnant.�

Batman nodded, rooted in place among the shadows of the rooftop. �Is this fact or theory?�

�A little of both,� she replied. �Your Jane Doe was a street kid, right? Only, it�s hard to make a living out of collecting old cans and bottles. She was a pretty girl, and she got pregnant somehow. Chances are she made a little money at it before she died.�

�Did any of the men you met with pimp her?� he asked. Selina shook her head.

�No way to know. Chances are, no. Those are high-end rollers. Their girls have a certain status on the street: they wouldn�t mess with a transient But I think it�s all connected, somehow. The disappearances, the way the pimps are acting like a bunch of frightened sheep� Men like them don�t spook easily. Very little can touch them in the East End. Even when you were down here full-time, they were never really afraid of you.�

His mouth and jaw tensed, but he nodded in agreement. Selina respected him for it. He was aware of his shortcomings.

�Speaking of which,� she asked him, � what are you doing in my neighborhood?�

�I wanted to know if you had a chance to speak with your contact in Bludhaven.�

�My contact?� she repeated dryly. �Holly, you mean? She hasn�t called.�

�And you have no way to reach her in an emergency?�

Selina shook her head, thinking he had to be the most anal-retentive man she had ever met. �She�s working undercover. No one knows about her connection to me in the East End. She�s just another junkie they�ve seen trying to buy product. Her ability to blend in on the streets will get us the information we need in Bludhaven.�

�And what about Jessica Bradshaw?� he asked softly.

Selina glared at him. �We have other priorities. The pimps claim they�ve lost about ten men to freak accidents, and sixteen women have gone missing from Crime Alley in the last few weeks. I�m more interested in finding them than figuring out what happened to some girl from Bristol Heights.�

Batman frowned, and when he spoke, his voice was full of deep, penetrating anger. �I don�t know how you can make those sort of distinctions.�

�And I don�t know how you can�t,� Selina replied. �I suppose the missing girls from this part of town don�t matter to you.�

Batman sighed, exasperated. �I don�t want to fight with you about this. I will look into the girls missing from Crime Alley. I will make it a priority.�

Selina nodded in approval, wondering when, exactly, he�d started giving in to her so easily. �They gave me another lead, something I doubt you�ll be happy about.�

He folded his arms, waiting for her to finish.

�Spend much time in Newtown, near the yacht basin?�

Batman shook his head. Newtown was in the dead-zone between the Botanical Gardens and Amusement Mile. During the day, the place was crowded with tourists but it was deserted at night. and as a result, it was a low-activity sector. There was the occasional mugging or act of vandalism, but it couldn�t compete with the war zone of Crime Alley or the high-risk sectors in the business core. The close proximity of the Rogers Yacht Basin made real estate in Newtown valuable, and thus heavily patrolled by the Gotham PD. Someone else protected the neighborhood.

�That is Huntress� territory.�

Selina nodded. �Apparently she�s been playing big sister to the few working girls left in Newtown since the post-NML facelift there. The yuppies may have invaded, but there are still a few dark corners and blind alleys in that part of the city,� Selina told him. �Your lady friend must find it challenging work.�

�What do you suggest?�

�We should go have a conversation with her about the missing girls.� Selina made ready to leap off the building. �And I�m always up for a family reunion.�