The two detectives came out of Julio's just as the storm broke. The rain came pounding down, drumming on their unmarked Dodge Diplomat . Kingsley lit a cigarette, sheltering in the diner doorway. “Fucking city.” He grumbled. Taylor lit up too. “I wish that a witness would give us something, just once.” He complained. “You'd think the whole of Gotham was blind.” Kingsley nodded, exhaling a cloud of blue smoke. “Never heard of a case that stuck in this place because of a witness, sure enough.” 

Taylor flicked ash from his smoke. “So what criminal lowlife do we go and question first?” He asked. 

Kingsley thought for a moment. “This is Falcone's territory now, isn't it?” Taylor nodded. “Yeah, Maroni traded it in after the Bomb War.” The Bomb War had been a dispute last year by the two most powerful Mafia families in Gotham had gone head to head in a spate of car bombings. Falcone had emerged on top, as usual, and Salvatore Maroni had ceded much of his turf in this part of the city.

“Who does Falcone have running this district for him now? I lose track of all the OC stuff.” Taylor asked, throwing his butt into the gutter. 

“Mooney.” Kingsley answered, flicking his own smoke away before stepping into the rain to head for their car. “Fish Mooney.” 

“Well, if it isn't the most handsome detectives in Gotham.” Fish Mooney said, rising from her seat. Mooney's club was almost empty save for a handful of goons and a strange, beaky guy wearing an old-fashioned cravat who served Mooney drinks. Fish Mooney was an attractive black woman with striking eyes. An exceptionally dangerous customer, she was suspected of various murders and robberies, but no proof had ever been obtained. Evidence had a habit of vanishing-and so did witnesses or informants. 

“Charming as ever.” Kingsley said. “But this ain't a social call, Fish.”

“Really? And here I was about to get Oswald here to fetch you boys a drink.” 

Kingsley shook his head. “No jokes. A Narco cop's been killed. Guy called Anthony Maddox.” 

Fish shrugged. “I'm sorry to hear that, Arthur. But I know nothing about any cop killing. And I've never heard of him, either.”

Taylor spoke up. “Come on. You think we're fresh outta Arkham or something? You know the score, Fish. Give us something. Maddox was gunned down in Julio's, you know, that diner in Bingham District? You know what happens on those streets. Turf wars, drug deals gone bad- if you don't give us something we might have to run you downtown.” 

Mooney smirked. “Butch might have something to say about that.” The GCPD men turned and looked over their shoulders. A mountain of a man had appeared silently and was now standing over them, a tight smile on his face. “Hey, fellas.” 

Kingsley smiled back. “Hey, Butch. How you doin'?” 

Butch Gilzean shrugged his massive shoulders. “Good, Detective. I'm good. Got a bit of a cold, but it'll pass.”

Kingsley nodded. “Sorry to hear that, my man. Now hows about you back off a couple steps before I knock your teeth out?” 

Gilzean looked aggrieved. “No need for that.” 

Taylor raised a calming hand. “All right. Keep your shirt on, big guy. All we need is some info. How about it, Fish? Help a couple of working guys out?”

Mooney thought for a moment. “OK.” She said. “Maybe I heard something. You know Joe Caporelli?” 

“Maroni made guy, works outta the auto garage on 4th? Yeah.” Kingsley answered. “What about him?”

“He's been talking big, last while. About drug shipments and the like. New supplies, new supplier, new markets. Just the sort of thing to attract-what was his name- Maddox? Maybe he got mixed up in that.”