Highlander

When they say the word "Circus", the average person associates it with a building like the Colosseum, or some huge bright red tent with yellow stripes, where the audience watches a performance with various acrobats, magicians, clowns and trainers. Here I was expecting something similar, but the reality was much cooler. Herman Fuller's Circus turned out to be a huge traveling fair-festival, for which a hundred hectares of land in the north of Bristol was allocated.

It's amazing that they built all of this, as the circus will stay in Gotham for a month at most.

As we passed the packed parking lot, I was glad we'd taken public transportation to get here. As we entered the fairgrounds, Harley and I were plunged into a whirlwind of unbridled fun. There were rides for every taste and color: from a banal "centrifuge" to a small Ferris wheel. And of course, where could such a place be without prize rides that tested dexterity, reaction and eyesight?

We were approaching one of them when we noticed an unhealthy commotion and shouts of indignation. It turned out to be an ordinary bench where you had to throw balls filled with sand at some hairy green monsters about thirty centimeters high.

The winning condition was trivial: to shoot down four targets. It is clear that this condition must be fulfilled to get the lamest and cheapest prizes straight from the basements of China, but for a decent-looking soft toy it was necessary to shoot down six monsters. Not without the main prize: a huge one and a half meter snow-white bear, for which it is necessary to hit all the targets without the right to make a mistake, and in a certain order.

"No cheating!" Shouted the owner of the attraction, throwing balls at the tallest target until one of the projectiles hit the center, knocking it over. - Here, everything is easily knocked over, and we need to aim better!" He wasn't even too lazy to take the thing off and demonstrate the absence of any fasteners or hidden spring.

Apparently, one of the customers suspected cheating. Huh, I don't even doubt that it's not clean, but it's unlikely that the owner of this place would cheat in front of a crowd. Besides, monsters are not so simple, because in the process of his throws, I noticed that the targets are essentially narrow pins with a massive base and hair sticking out in all directions to give the appearance of volume.

"Wow *-*. - My lovely assistant, upon spotting the grand prize, became enthusiastic and immediately darted into the crowd, pulling me in tow. When she made her way to the counter, she put a five bucks on it, receiving seven balls and a reassuring smile with a wish of good luck, which in this situation was more like a sneer.

Harley snorted and let go of my hand, then stuck out her pink tongue and took good aim, hitting the first pin. With the same ease she knocked down four more targets, each time causing cheering shouts of the crowd around us, but the last monster after the throw only a little deflected and immediately returned to the original state, almost throwing away from himself crashing projectile.

"Hey, I got in all right!" The girl was justifiably indignant.

"I'm sorry, beautiful, but it's too weak. - The owner of the attraction waved his hands guiltily. - I was just a little bit short of the main prize, but you can choose any other soft toy.

Panting with indignation and throwing angry glances, the blonde cutie took a rainbow unicorn from the counter, attempting to loom menacingly over the counter.

"Do you know where this thing is going to end up now?" She shook the prize, causing the man to smile faintly. Heh, my companion can really look very cute and funny at times like this, but that doesn't change the fact that she can carry out her threat. Eh, we shouldn't go so brazenly beyond the law yet, but it's no good leaving this crook unpunished either.

"Honey, don't be so hot. - I hugged Harley gently from behind. - Let me try.

After basking in the ring of my arms the girl cooled down a bit and nodded.

After laying out the five and receiving the coveted shells, I calculated their weight and strength. If my conclusions about what I had seen were correct, it would be fun.

Accurate throws to the centers of the targets topple them with ease. I can hear the shouts of the man who was hoping to throw off my concentration. Ha-ha-ha-ha, you've got the wrong guy.

"Wow, looks like we have a second runner-up for the grand prize!" He yelled, practically over his ear, but his efforts were doomed to failure.

"Heh! I'm putting the body into the throw.

~Fshoo! Crackle!

With a barely audible whistle, the ball crashes almost into the very base of the skittle, but instead of knocking it down, it explodes into shreds, and the impact on the monster leaves a decent dent. Still electromagnet, and quite powerful.

The audience froze for a moment.

"Cheater! Bastard! Get him!" The surrounding crowd erupted in righteous anger, rushing towards the shopkeeper, who, realizing the smell of fried food, immediately tried to escape, but was slowed down by a ball thrown at his head by a blonde woman.

When the fumbling started, we tried to escape the cordon almost immediately, along the way picking up the well-deserved grand prize I'd given Harley in exchange for a kiss.

Nearby there were sounds of whistles of local guards trying to disperse the crowd, and we quietly moved on, finding ourselves in the territory of a kind of food court.

There were both the traditional goodies found at such events, like caramelized apples or popcorn, and some very unusual treats. I was especially confused by the black cotton candy and sodas with the strange name "Clown Milk". Honestly, it sounds a little scary, but that's no reason to turn down something new, right? My faithful assistant was of the same opinion, so both things were tried. The soda tasted like cherry Dr. Pepper, and the cotton candy was just regular cotton candy, but it was a strange color, although Harley tried to prove that it was obviously mixed with something like LSD, and even set aside a small piece for analysis.

After a light snack, the girl and I got into the whirl of attractions again, until I found myself at the ticket booths in front of a huge multicolored tent. The nearest show was about to start in twenty minutes, so it was decided to take two tickets and, after a short wandering around, to enter the circus dome.

The performance of the artists didn't get me very excited because it was... Ordinary? It's hard to explain, but this is the world of comic books, and here were ordinary people who didn't demonstrate anything supernatural. Well, yes, the gymnasts were twirling into unrealistic poses, but my companion could do just as well, and I wouldn't be far behind her, thanks to my developed first principle. The jugglers handled a dozen different objects, but it was all completely different. The performance by a couple of illusionists after Zee's performance looked amateurish to me. It was good that the clowns were funny, and the performance of the trainers was pleasant, although I never saw the promised naked girl with tigers.

"Let's give a round of applause to the clowns Gacy and Stitches!" The entertainer, who also happened to be the owner of the circus, shouted joyfully into the microphone as he entered the arena. - And now what people even come from other states for. The dexterity of the following performers could be envied by monkeys, and the endurance of mules. A family of aerial gymnasts who have kept the tradition alive and passed on their skills for the fifth generation, traveling all over the globe," the drums beat softly, building up the atmosphere, "The incomparables! Amazing and marvelous! "Flying... GREYSONS!"

The spotlights flashed and illuminated three people under the circus dome, standing on a taut rope with no safety net whatsoever. To the rhythmic and cheerful music, the aerial gymnasts began to perform such unimaginable pirouettes that even my vestibular apparatus decided to take a vacation, from which I had to cover my eyes for a moment.

The spectacle was incredibly exciting, and I'm sure I couldn't repeat even a quarter of it without serious training. The number was about to end when, during one of the tricks, the trapeze suddenly broke off and two human figures rushed to the ground. The bodies landed on the arena with a wet crunch, drowned out by the loud cheerful music.

"Ah!" The audience froze in shock.

The melody faded, and in the deafening silence came the breaking voice of an orphaned teenager, "Mommy! Daddy!".

"Get the medics over here!" Herman Fuller was the first to rush to the injured.

Naturally, after such a terrible event, the people around them were not in the mood for fun. While the doctors on duty in the arena were quickly loading Grayson on a stretcher, at the same time calming down the boy who was in shock, the entertainer sadly reported about the accident and that the cost of tickets would be fully refunded to those who applied to the box office. He also said that the circus would stop working for two days, and in fact such an act is worthy of respect, because every day of downtime is a huge loss.

I felt truly sorry for the guy, even Harley sympathized with him a little, which is a strange thing for her to do, because she is sensitive only to her loved ones, and she doesn't care about other people. In the end, we decided to stay a little longer and try to help, if not morally, then with money, but it seems that the thoughts of the rich people agree.

When the main crowd had dispersed and we got closer to the arena, we were surprised to come across one notable person who had apparently managed to cure herself of a cold, not alone, but with a pretty red-haired companion. Ha-ha-ha-ha, it seems that Alfred had taken his master seriously.

"'Mr. Wayne,' Herman said sadly, 'I understand your desire, but Richard is hardly in the mood for dialogue now, you saw that.

"I've seen it," Bruce replied seriously, "and I've heard it. Who is Zucco?

The fair owner's face hardened.

"It's just the ramblings of a teenager who lost his family. Why the hell would you even ask me something like that?! I highly doubt the owner of a multi-billion dollar corporation moonlights as a detective. This conversation is over. - Fuller turned around and practically ran backstage, and the strongmen standing at the entrance slowed down Bats who tried to follow him.

Taking a deep breath, the hero turned around and to his great surprise came upon our couple.

"Hi, long time no see. - Harley waved hello to the pompous Mouse, peeking out from behind a huge stuffed toy.

"What are you guys doing here?

"Ew, that's rude. We're just here for the show, right?" I looked around the tent with an expressive gaze.

"Makes sense...

"Bruce, I understand, but why don't you introduce me to your friends?" The girl accompanying Wayne asked, clearly not too pleased with what was happening.

Hmm, and someone clearly has taste, because not only the friend of my acquaintance was a redhead with green eyes, but also with a pretty face and a beautiful figure, which perfectly emphasized a light dark blue coat.

"You probably already know them.

The pretty girl looked at us carefully, squinting her eyes a little.

"Wait a minute. Is-" She approached with a kind of awe. - You're Jay Arkham and Harleen Quinzel! I'm Vicki Vale, journalist. - She introduced herself at once, forgetting all about her companion. - I've heard so many rumors about you, but you haven't been in touch. Is it true that you were able to find the jewels that disappeared fifty years ago by negotiating with the Swamp Thing? Who is Pamela Isley to you? Is it true that you killed Hugo Strange for mistreatment at the asylum? How do you plan to use the money you received? What games does your company plan to produce? And the fundraiser? I'm told some people have already received invitations. You're planning to make the police department happy with state-of-the-art weaponry. What about former coworkers? They're not trying to make assassination attempts?" The reporter was ranting like a machine gun, not letting me get a word in edgewise.

"Bruce, you'd cool your ardor..." I started to say, but stopped in mid-sentence.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, where's Mouse? He was just here!

Realizing that our new acquaintance wasn't going to shut up, Harley pulled the edge of a baseball bat out of her pocket, covering herself with the prize and glancing at Vicki's head with a hint. Tempting, but no. I shake my head negatively.

"Ms. Vale, please calm down! Pull yourself together!" I had to shake her by the shoulders, otherwise she would definitely keep talking*. - Thank you. - I thanked her when there was silence. - I agree to give you a small interview, but let's go to a more suitable place, there is a cozy outdoor cafe nearby.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, "it's just that it's almost impossible to get in touch with you, so I threw out a bunch of questions. Bruce, are you coming? Oh, where is he?" She did notice that her companion had left, but that didn't seem to upset her.

I had to adjust my plans a little, and went into town instead of going to the nearest café. Still, it was quite problematic to talk normally in a huge crowd of people, and I just knew a good restaurant in the business district, where we settled down in one of the special booths, ordering a light snack. Of course, the fair's Kunstkammer was out of the question, but I could go there later if I wanted, though I didn't really want to look at the stuffed freaks.

Vicki Vale was a real shark of a pen, asking a lot of questions, including provocative ones, but I just laughed, literally, to keep my concentration level up. By the end of the conversation, the journalist was like a squeezed lemon, trying to trick me into some mega revelation, but all her efforts were doomed to failure. Just in case, I recorded our conversation on a tape recorder and warned that in case of misrepresentation of the facts the record would end up in court. Although I don't even know why the girl was dissatisfied, because I filtered the bazaar, but I answered some questions quite honestly, for example, about the relationship with Ivy or about the use of vines. Harley at such moments did not stay aside, in colors complementing my words, from which our interlocutor sometimes threw envious glances and bit her lip. Huh, it's funny, but in the nearest plans I have a meeting with the commissioner, and then with his cute daughter, by the way, also red-haired, who sits in the library until late in the evening. I'm even curious to see how Mouse is doing, since we had a lot of fun with her the day before yesterday.

After taking the interview, a happy Vicky went home to process the recording she had made, and Harley and I went to Gordon's house at the police station.

The Commissioner greeted us with a less than cordial welcome, but that had more to do not with our personalities, but with the events going on in Gotham.

"Have you seen this?" Asked the red-haired man in his office as he laid several pictures on his desk, one of which was an exact replica of the photo of Strange being mangled.

"Yes. - After my short answer, he almost took a hunting stance, like a dog on the trail. - It's on the news today. - I cooled him off.

~Bah~

The cup of unfinished coffee bounced a little on the countertop from his impact.

"Damn journos. It's still under investigation. What the hell, they're always meddling where they're not wanted. Oh, okay. Jay, you've got an alibi. - He exhaled tiredly, leaning back in his chair and glancing at Harley's enormous bear, which she hadn't exactly planned on parting with after the argument at the front door. - I was talking to you at WayneTech at the time of the murder. - He explained at my questioning look. - Do you have any idea who's behind this? You know the handwriting's pretty distinctive.

"I have no idea. - I answered honestly, looking at the pictures. Some of them showed some kind of underground casemates. - What are these?" I showed the photos.

"This was found under the doctor's house. Forensics is still working, but it looks like there were people held there recently that we need to find somehow.

What the hell was that about? There was only one thought going through my head. I thought to myself, "I'm not sure why I'm doing this," I said, "I'm not sure why I'm doing this," I said, "I'm not sure why I'm doing this.

"Only One Left" - The very last picture was of a wall with bloody lettering sprawled across it. What the hell is a fucking Highlander?!

* https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7gGidte9S7U