Read Online Batman 6 - The Dark Knight by Dennis O'Neil - Free Book Online Page B

striding through the courthouse lobby with Rachel, who was panting slightly as she struggled to keep up with him.
    “We’ll never link that gun to Maroni,” she said. “But I’ll tell you one thing—the fact that they tried to kill you means we’re getting to them.”
    “Glad you’re so pleased, Rachel,” Dent said. “Oh, by the way, I’m fine.”
    Rachel tugged at Dent’s sleeve until he stopped. She smoothed his lapels. “Harvey, you’re Gotham’s DA. If you’re not getting shot at, you’re not doing your job. ’Course, if you said you were shaken, we could take the rest of the day off . . .”
    “Can’t. I dragged the head of the Major Crimes Unit down here.”
    “Jim Gordon? He’s a friend. Try to be nice.”
    Dent and Rachel kissed good-bye, and he resumed walking. Dent turned down a short corridor and entered his office. James Gordon was already there. He stood and shook hands with Dent.
    “Word is, you’ve got a hell of a right cross,” Gordon said. “Shame Sal’s going to walk.”
    “Well, good thing about the mob is they keep giving you a second chance.”
    Dent went to his desk and took a sheaf of currency from a drawer.
    “Lightly irradiated bills,” Gordon said.
    “Fancy stuff for a city cop,” Dent said. “Have help?”
    “We liaise with various agencies—”
    “Save it, Gordon. I want to meet him.”
    “Official policy is to arrest the vigilante known as the Batman on sight.”
    “And that floodlight atop headquarters?”
    “If you have any concerns about . . . malfunctioning equipment . . . take them up with maintenance, Counselor.”
    Dent tossed the bills onto his desk, his annoyance visible. “I’ve put every known money launderer in Gotham behind bars. But the mob is still getting its money out. I think you and your ‘friend’ have found the last game in town, and you’re trying to hit ’em where it hurts—their wallets. Bold. You gonna count me in?”
    “In this town, the fewer people know something, the safer the operation.”
    “Gordon, I don’t like that you’ve got your own special unit, and I don’t like that it’s full of cops I investigated at Internal Affairs.”
    “If I didn’t work with cops you’d investigated while you were making your name in IA, I’d be working alone. I don’t get political points for being an idealist. I have to do the best I can with what I have.”
    “Look, Gordon, you want me to back warrants for search and seizure on five banks without telling me who we’re after?”
    “I can give you the names of the banks.”
    “Well, that’s a start. I’ll get you the warrants. But I want your trust.”
    “You don’t have to sell me, Dent. We all know you’re Gotham’s white knight.”
    Dent grinned. “I hear they’ve got a different name for me down at MCU.”
    A mile uptown, Lucius Fox was presiding over a board meeting of Wayne Enterprises. Despite his impeccable suit and trim haircut, Fox did not much resemble what he, in fact, was—the CEO of Wayne Enterprises. There was nothing of the fat cat in his manner or appearance. Rather, he seemed to be what he really was, an inventor who also happened to have an IQ that was off the charts. Until his boss, Bruce Wayne, had returned from wherever it was he’d gone for seven years, Lucius was quite comfortable being a nonentity. He was known to be a favorite of Thomas Wayne, Bruce’s father, and so the new cadre of executives who gradually took control of the company after Wayne’s death didn’t trust Lucius any more than he trusted them. They didn’t fire him outright: He neither knew or cared why. Instead, they had exiled him to a department that did less and less business with every passing quarter, a department devoted more to research than quick-profit deals. Then they relocated that department to a subbasement, slashed its budget, put Lucius in charge of a staff they immediately discharged, and wished him the best of luck in his new endeavors. Fine with