"With friends like these, who needs enemies?"
Jude couldn't remember who'd said this or who it was directed at, but hearing Batman's words, the first image that came to mind was the man standing before him.
Batman had indeed lived up to expectations, proving time and again that this phrase was the perfect description of him.
Listen to what he'd said. Three sentences. The first about monitoring an innocent Gotham citizen—a poor man whose wife had been seriously ill—Drake. The second about monitoring his best friend and one of his most solid allies—Harvey Dent. The third suspected to be about Jude himself, the Pumpkin Man.
Did that sound like something a decent person would do? Absolutely not. But if you considered Batman's perspective, it immediately made perfect sense.
Bit far-fetched to say Jude possessed any counter-surveillance awareness. He was just an ordinary man. Whether eavesdropping or signal shielding, he relied entirely on software functions built into his computer and phone. Obviously, these methods were insufficient against Batman.
He didn't even know when a bug had been planted on him. And the fact he couldn't be eavesdropped on was the most obvious problem.
"Where did you put the bug?"
"It was destroyed in the fire."
Fuck. Can't believe a word Batman says.
"Now that you've got your eyes on me, there's no point hiding, is there?"
Jude laughed bitterly, vowing to mind his own business in the future. "Yes, I stole the bounty Falcone gave the Irish Gang. Kept nine thousand dollars. Used the rest to repair Harvey's house and buried what remained in his basement."
"Why only nine thousand?"
"That's what I spent on bombs and wiretapping equipment. I had to recoup costs, right? I'm not rich."
"But you didn't cooperate with the Irish Gang." Batman's tone shifted from question to statement, apparently understanding the entire situation immediately.
"Correct. The eavesdropping target was the Irish Gang. Donny, who was greedy, picked up a metal lighter on the street. Very beautiful. He liked it very much."
"But it wasn't found among the evidence. You stole it again."
"Yes. The night before Harvey's house exploded, I infiltrated their base with a fake bomb and swapped it for the high-yield device they'd prepared. Also recovered the lighter I'd used for surveillance."
Batman studied Jude's eyes. Those lenses reflected the image of a homeless, unlucky man. No madness. No chaos. No hysteria. No "one bad day." No miserable broken life.
He didn't possess the qualities of a villain or a hero. Just a little lonely. A little unlucky.
And quite poor.
Jude had originally wanted to answer because Harvey Dent is a good man, but looking into those bat-lensed eyes, he couldn't bring himself to offer such a superficial response.
"Because I felt guilty."
He was silent for a moment. "A normal person should be a little selfish and have a conscience. I consider myself normal."
"I was the one who burned the warehouse. I thought there were counterfeit bills inside, so I set the fire. Harvey Dent took the blame for me. I didn't have courage to stand up and tell Falcone he had the wrong person. I didn't know how to handle it."
"So, I thought I could minimize his losses as much as possible."
It fits, Batman thought. It all fits.
"You didn't know that was where Falcone kept his laundered money."
"I didn't know. I had no reason to go after the Romans' dirty money." Jude paused. "I know you want to ask about the pumpkin, so I might as well tell you. I did sell a carved pumpkin that Halloween night."
"The buyer's face was invisible. Wore a black round hat and loose trench coat. Features blurred. Rough work gloves. Except for the hat, everything gray."
"Anything else?"
"A while ago, the cornucopia I made for Thanksgiving got snatched from the street. He didn't even pay me."
Even Batman couldn't help glancing sideways at Jude. Not many major events had occurred in Gotham recently, and this guy had encountered every single one.
"Why you?" The deep voice murmured, mind racing. "Why always you?"
"Maybe because I'm nearby? If not me, wouldn't make any difference if he bought from a store." Jude shrugged. "I've said everything I can. If you don't have anything else, then let me go."
"One more thing. There's a—"
"Yes, yes, I recently brought food to poor Solomon. That big guy's actually decent. At least he didn't kill me with one punch. This kind of thing isn't illegal. Are you investigating that too?"
Jude had revealed everything he'd done. Now he felt relieved. He wasn't accustomed to keeping secrets.
"Now, Batman—what do you decide? Put me in jail? Or let me sleep in a hotel for one night?"
"I'll take you to a hotel in Burnley. Open twenty-four hours." Batman produced a bag. "Here's your thirty-five thousand. Was meant to be kept as evidence."
Jude didn't reach for the money. His mind was completely focused on what Batman had said.
"I'll take you to a hotel in Burnley."
"How are you taking me there? I mean—I don't think I brought my car keys, so you'll need to provide transportation."
"Let me be clear in advance—I don't really like swinging from tall buildings. Not that I'm afraid of heights. I just don't like swinging around because I might vomit."
The core idea of these two paragraphs was actually two words:
BATMOBILE. BATPLANE.
Sure, he should avoid contact with superheroes and everyone should live their own lives in the future. But he'd been so unlucky tonight—what's wrong with having a little fun? Just a Batmobile or Batplane ride. Supervillains get to ride them. Why couldn't he?
When he thought of those two ferocious machines—hard bodies, smooth curves, cold metallic texture, the roar of high-horsepower engines at full throttle—Jude could no longer contain his excitement.
Specially built by Lucius Fox. Crystallization of Wayne's cutting-edge technology. A Batmobile costing eighteen million dollars. A Batfighter costing sixty million dollars. Wasn't this more prestigious than any luxury car?
Batman studied Jude. The man before him had suddenly become too excited. He began suspecting some conspiracy.
"Don't ask any more questions. You'll be there when you wake up."
Batman delivered a lightning-fast strike. Jude collapsed on the spot, only one thought flashing through his mind.
Batman is such a fucking dog.