"Ah, you even prepared a gift for Barbara." Thompkins' tone immediately hardened. "Or are you trying to use this method to remind him?"
"Of course not." Jay sighed. It was exhausting talking to these people. "Honestly, I admire Officer Gordon. He's one of the few good people in Gotham.
Furthermore, he provided backup during the gunfight a few days ago, so I'm grateful to him. I don't want to strain our relationship.
But I also strongly dislike his way of doing things. Things that could be easily resolved often turn chaotic under his idealized style of action."
"Uh…"
Dr. Thompkins fell silent for a moment. She seemed to recall something, a wry smile crossing her lips.
"Yes, I deeply relate to that. However… that's not what you need to worry about now. The 24-hour limit is approaching. I have to report to CPS immediately—though I can use the medical report to delay them for three days."
She returned to her office, retrieved a few documents, and handed them to Jay. "Here are your copies. Are you ready?"
"It will be fine. Thank you, Doctor."
Leaving the hospital, he went looking for a car dealer to get a cheap used car. Driving a police car was too conspicuous. Although it was common practice in Gotham, attracting Internal Affairs' attention would be a hassle.
The car salesman, operating on the principle of ripping off strangers by half and loyal customers entirely, brazenly quoted two thousand dollars for a three-ring Jeep Cherokee.
Finally, when Jay suggested he might call the precinct to check the vehicle's provenance, the salesman honestly quoted $2,500.
Jay paid the money, then, under the guise of an "after-sales service," forced the salesman to thoroughly inspect the car and replace the tires.
He didn't much care if the car was tied to any deaths—that was just a Gotham specialty; what poor man's car hasn't claimed a few lives?
Running around all day left him exhausted. By the time he met Nygma at the GCPD evidence room that evening, he was slumped in a chair, completely unwilling to move.
"What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing. Have you eaten dinner?"
"Not yet. I just finished assembling what you asked for. Want to see it?" Nygma excitedly handed over a device about half the size of a lighter, rubbing his hands together with anticipation as he watched Jay.
"It's nothing, really. I just disassembled two hearing aids, added a digital watch, a bit of scrap from the evidence room, and hand-wound some miniature magnetic tape. It can record for about thirty minutes."
"OMG! OMG!" Jay raised his hands high, then abruptly bent over, clapping his hands together at his ankles.
"What brought light to the world? Your genius, Ed!" He stood up and pointed toward the sky outside the window. "Do you see those stars? The great king… the great sage Nygma is watching us from there!"
Nygma shook his head, slightly exasperatedly stopping Jay's antics. "Jay, you know I've seen that movie (The Lion King), and the rest of that quote isn't exactly flattering."
"Never mind the details. But seriously, it's a tragedy you're just a forensic scientist. This is a loss for all humanity." Jay carefully put the device into his coat pocket. "Let's go. I'm buying you dinner."
"I'm fine with anything." Nygma took his jacket off the hanger. "Why do you need this? You're not seriously trying to put together some kind of spy squad of cats, dogs, and rats, are you?
Historically, both the former Soviet Union and America spent vast sums and time trying to…"
"If… never mind. Let's just go." Jay waved his hand. "I'll tell you once we're out of the precinct. I feel like no one here is trustworthy but you."
The two hurriedly got into the newly bought used car.
As Jay started the ignition, he told Nygma about Otis and the Harper siblings. Nygma listened quietly, then nodded, then shook his head.
"Jay, I think you're overcomplicating things. By your plan, even if your rat-catcher friend and the rat squad follow your instructions perfectly, how can you ensure they will discuss crimes at the right time? Time is of the essence!"
He stroked his chin, tapping his cheek with four fingers. "CPS isn't an impenetrable department. There are ways to handle things quickly.
If you just want to stop them from taking the Harper siblings, all you need to do is wear a mask, ambush the main handler on his way home, and hold a gun or a knife to his chin. I guarantee he will agree to your demands."
"Just… just like that?" Jay stared at him, dumbfounded. "That's too…"
"Too crazy, you mean?" Nygma gave a slight smile. "For anywhere else, yes. But here it's different, Jay. Have you forgotten? This is Gotham. Of course, the prerequisite is that you do it cleanly."
"Damn, how do you think of these things? Every time I talk to you, I feel like an idiot!" Jay vigorously scratched his hair. "Seriously, do you want to transfer to the East Precinct?
Even though there's no forensics lab, I can get Chief Bob to set one up for you. If you want, you can even be the medical examiner and the technical supervisor."
"Then you'd have to pay me at least three salaries. But… never mind. While there are a lot of idiots here, I doubt the East Precinct would be much different."
"At least I could solve riddles with you?"
"Oh!" Nygma covered his face. "Don't mention your riddle-solving skills."
"Then… there's Wilson… While Miss Kringle isn't there, he would definitely introduce you to plenty of girls."
Jay leaned closer and said in a high-pitched voice: "Oh, Ed, I regret not getting to know you sooner! You forgive me, right?"
Then, he placed his hands on his hips and shouted in a man's voice: "In your dreams, bitch. You ignored me yesterday, but today you can't reach me."
"Stop! Stop! Stop!" Nygma waved his hands frantically, cutting off Jay's performance. "Jay, let me think… give me some time to think…"
"No problem." Jay straightened his posture and slammed the gas pedal, the car shooting forward. "But before that, use your genius brain to decide: where should we go eat?"
——————
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