by Dave Barnowski
Jim Corrigan reappeared in his bedroom in a nervous sweat. Even though it had been close to fifty years since he died, what the Spectre had told him brought up powerful old memories that shook him to the core. Corrigan could hear his wife making breakfast for the girls, and he had planned on joining them, since he didn’t have to get to work until after the girls left for school. But what the Spectre had told him made him change his plans.
He took a long, hot shower; it soothed him physically and psychologically. Normally Corrigan showered as quickly as he could, but today he used it to refocus as the memories of his murder receded back to where he normally kept them, to a place that allowed him to function as a police detective and as a human being.
Andrea noted the length of time that Jim was in the shower. She figured that her husband was disturbed by whatever the Spectre had needed to talk to Jim about. Andrea didn’t fully understand her husband’s relationship with the Ghostly Guardian, but when she reflected on it, she knew that Jim didn’t, either. She went upstairs to see how he was doing once the girls were eating their breakfast.
“Jim, the girls don’t have much time before they leave. You should come down before they do,” she said, entering their bedroom.
Jim nodded. He was half-dressed. “Yeah, I know, honey. I’m afraid I can’t take them to school like I planned. I have… I have to go to JSA Headquarters before I report in to work.”
Andrea looked intently at her husband. Jim had once been a member of the Justice Society of America back in the 1940s, back when he first became the Spectre, before he and the Ghostly Guardian had become separate entities, and had rejoined the JSA for a few cases in the 1960s. But Jim had avoided most contact with the JSA and all other modern heroes since he had reclaimed control of the Spectre, embarrassed by both the Spectre’s actions and his own. Avoiding his old friends was something that he had insisted on doing, even when his old colleagues asked him to join them. That was how she knew that something was wrong. “Why, Jim? What did the Spectre tell you?” she asked.
Jim told her what the Spectre had said. He also explained how he couldn’t bring himself to move his cement-covered body. He said he was planning on asking one of the JSA members to help him, because Doctor Fate wasn’t on this plane of existence at the moment.
“Okay, Jim,” said Andrea. “I’ll get the girls to school, but come on down and spend some time with them first.”
***
Ninety minutes later, the Spectre appeared in the living room of the brownstone mansion that served as the headquarters of the JSA. Corrigan had never been here as member before, though he had appeared here last year during a crisis in which a mystical entity was scaring the children of the world, including his own. Because it had hit so close to home, he had acted arrogantly toward Red Robin, the former Boy Wonder, briefly transforming Dick Grayson into a boy of eleven once more. (*) Guilt over his actions that day later motivated him to try to make things right on two occasions since then. (*)
[(*) Editor’s note: See DC Universe: Fear the Dark, Chapter 9: Rescue Mission, Batman Family: The Wedding March, Chapter 5: Like Father, Like Daughter, and Batman Family: The Wedding March, Chapter 15: A Debt Repaid.]
The Spectre stood silently for a moment to get his bearings. He sensed that the mansion was empty except for Red Robin, who was sitting a communications array that served as the JSA’s monitor board. The Spectre vanished, only to reappear behind Red Robin an instant later.
The monitor board had shown the Spectre’s arrival, and a small blip on a screen told Dick Grayson when the Spectre reappeared behind him. The Spectre made Red Robin apprehensive, like all the JSA members. But Doctor Fate and Superman had told their teammates that Jim Corrigan, a man with a family, was now in charge of the power of the Spectre. Without turning, Red Robin said, “Good morning, Spec. What can I do for you?”
Now Corrigan was surprised. Quickly recovering, he said, “I need one of the JSA to move my original body from Lake Erie as soon as possible.”
Red Robin turned his chair around now. “I take it that you can’t do this because of some magical restriction.”
“No, I can’t for human reasons. It’s too much for me to do on an emotional and psychological level.” Corrigan was amazed how he could detach himself from that raw wound while in the guise of the Spectre, even though he knew that he still couldn’t move the body.
Red Robin regarded the Spectre with an implacable expression. Corrigan didn’t have any inclination as to what the former Boy Wonder was thinking when he said, “I’m sure any of the big guns would be willing to help, but they’re all off-planet right now. As I understand it, Doctor Fate is in another dimension, and the others are helping Wonder Woman deal with a massive meteor shower being sent to Earth by the god Mars. I don’t know the specifics, only that Green Lantern, Superman, Power Girl, Johnny Thunder, and both Starmen are with her right now, along with the more powerful members of the Junior JSA.”
“I see,” said the Spectre, obviously disappointed.
Red Robin frowned and said in a kind and understanding voice, “I have monitor duty until four this afternoon. If it can wait until then, I can use the Bat-Sub to pick up your old body. I just need you to transport the sub to Lake Erie. Can you wait that long, or should I get the Huntress to do it for you?”
The Spectre was genuinely touched by Red Robin’s words. “I don’t know how much time I have, but I have to report in at the station soon as Jim Corrigan. The Huntress might not be able to communicate with me if I’m out on a case, so why don’t we wait until this afternoon? Thank you, Dick.”
Red Robin nodded and said, “I’ll be ready by 5:00 p.m.”
The Spectre nodded and disappeared.
***
Jim Corrigan reported into the 78th Precinct house of the Gotham City Police Department at 7:45 a.m., just as he always did when he worked the dayshift. Corrigan’s shift started at eight, but he always liked to get in a few minutes early and have a coffee before taking a report from the outgoing shift. The other detectives also filed in slowly, as they always did. Because the detectives had their own cases to work on, they didn’t have to get a report, but Corrigan liked to get the feel of what had been going on in the precinct since he was last there. That was especially true this morning after a nice weekend off.
The meeting was held. Detective Lieutenant Barney Peters was in charge of the squad. He frowned, then nodded when Jim came into his office. Corrigan found this to be odd, because he and Peters had started to get along well after a bumpy beginning. The graveyard shift reported that they had had the usual share of crimes: a couple of assaults, two muggings, three robberies, and a double homicide. None of the cases seemed to be tied to any other open cases at the precinct.
After the meeting, Lieutenant Peters asked Corrigan to stay for a minute. Jim said, “Sure, Barney. What’s up?”
Peters’ face looked as if he had just eaten a pickled lemon saturated with onion juice. “I want you to go to Police Headquarters, Jim, and report to Acting Chief O’Malley.”
Corrigan was on edge now, as he’d had a few run-ins with O’Malley back when he had been the deputy chief for Meta-Human Crimes. “What’s he want?” asked Corrigan.
“I don’t know. But, Jim, I asked around on the Q.T., and I’d have a PBA lawyer with you. And you didn’t hear that from me.”
Corrigan frowned, wondering what O’Malley thought he had on him. “Come on, Barney, you know me. I don’t need a lawyer.”
Peters wished he had a cigarette, as he didn’t enjoy this at all. “Jim, the word I got is that O’Malley has something on you, and he is going to take your badge this morning.”
“What does he have?” wondered Corrigan aloud. “I’m an honest cop. You know that, Barney.”
“Yes, I do. You’re also one of the best detectives on the force, but O’Malley has been after you and your partner for the better part of a year. (*) Now the man is the acting chief since Chief Hanson had his heart attack last month. Get your butt over to headquarters and have a lawyer with you,” ordered Lieutenant Peters.
[(*) Editor’s note: The Spectre: The Partner.]
Jim left Peters’ office just as his partner Angela Catrella entered the squad room. “Where we off to?” she asked, seeing Jim putting on his coat.
“Not we, April. Just me,” said Corrigan, and he explained that he was going to Police Headquarters, telling her the reason why. April agreed with Lieutenant Peters that Jim should go with a lawyer from the Patrolmen’s Benevolent Association.
Putting his hands up in surrender, Jim agreed to call a lawyer before he went to Police Headquarters, though he left the building without contacting one. Instead, he once again paid a visit to Red Robin at the JSA Brownstone.
This time the Spectre appeared directly behind Red Robin, who was sitting at the monitor board. Red Robin was aware of the Spectre as soon as he materialized. If the former Boy Wonder was startled to see the Ghostly Guardian again, neither his face nor his body language showed it. “Back again, Spectre?” he said. “What can I do for you now?”
The Spectre changed into Jim Corrigan while Red Robin was still speaking. “I’m not here as the Spectre, Dick. I’m here as Jim Corrigan, because I need a lawyer.”
Dick Grayson turned around, and Corrigan relayed the events of this morning. After listening, Dick said, “I’m still stuck here on monitor duty, but I’ll call Helena and have her meet you at Police Headquarters.”
***
Acting Police Chief O’Malley was looking forward to this morning. He had been trying to get the goods on Jim Corrigan for months now, ever since the detective first grade had violated Gotham City Police Department’s protocol involving suspects who were either meta-human or human with advanced scientific hardware. There had been three other detectives on the case, but Corrigan was the lead officer. His partner was just a rookie named April Catrella, and at the time she’d been the darling of the press because she was the youngest female officer ever to make detective grade, and they reported that it was she who had solved the case and captured the murderess.
O’Malley had grown to despise Corrigan, as the man also had a friend in Commissioner O’Hara. Corrigan had evidently been hired personally by the late Police Commissioner Bruce Wayne, and Wayne could do no wrong in Clancy O’Hara’s eyes. O’Malley knew that he could never touch Corrigan when he was just the deputy chief for Meta Crimes. Now, because he was the Acting Police Chief and had the ear of the Mayor, he felt safe enough to go after Corrigan.
Having climbed the chain of command ladder quite quickly, O’Malley was a highly ambitious but honest cop equally at home in law enforcement as in politics, and pushed himself with a drive that few police officers knew. His last promotion was as Acting Chief of Police, though this one had come about in a different way than any of his other promotions. Firefly, an old enemy of the Batman, had been committing a series of arsons, and none of Gotham’s costumed protectors were in the city that week. O’Malley never found out what was so important that the Batman’s protégés weren’t there to protect his city, nor did he care, because that was why his Meta-Human Crime Unit was designed. It operated as an enhanced SWAT team that could apprehend the super-villain criminals that operated in Gotham City. But something went terribly wrong that night.
O’Malley had been leading a team of officers when Firefly attacked, and O’Malley became separated from his men in the ensuing confusion. Firefly started one of his trademark fires and the flames cut off all of O’Malley’s escape routes. He was a dead man. That was when he heard a dark, foreboding, disembodied voice asking O’Malley if he wanted to live, if he wanted all of his dreams and desires to come true. All O’Malley had to do was to give that voice his shadow.
As O’Malley managed to croak out, “Yes,” the wall at his back suddenly gave way, and he had an escape route. To top that off, O’Malley also spotted Firefly with his back to him as he was robbing a vault. Firing his specially designed high-tech sidearm, O’Malley knocked Firefly unconscious, then carried out the super-villain and became a hero and local media darling.
A month later, Gotham City Police Chief Sarah Essen had a massive coronary; in the interim, until Essen could make a full recovery from this unexpected health setback, O’Malley was promoted to Acting Chief over the objections of Commissioner O’Hara. (*) As O’Hara pointed out, there were several other deputy chiefs with more seniority, but his objections were shouted down by the Mayor’s office, because O’Malley was a hero. The death of the most senior deputy chief, Manelli, clinched the deal for O’Malley.
[(*) Editor’s note: See Red Robin: The Dark Knight Returns, Chapter 3: Gotham Needs a Batman.]
Becoming Police Chief had always been O’Malley’s fondest dream. He had completely forgotten about the voice, having dismissed it as an auditory hallucination, until it spoke to him once more when he was alone in his new office. Evidently the voice hated Jim Corrigan as much as O’Malley did, and wanted O’Malley to discredit him. The voice told O’Malley to make up some charges. O’Malley uncharacteristically agreed, but only if he was unable to find something legitimately damning to Corrigan’s career as a police officer. Something had indeed turned up, and today O’Malley was not only going to take Corrigan’s badge, but he would arrest him as well.
Looking down on the street, O’Malley saw the red-headed detective standing in front of Police Headquarters, looking as if he was waiting for someone. O’Malley frowned at that, and made a mental note to start looking into Lieutenant Barney Peters’ affairs, because the man had obviously tipped off Corrigan that he needed a lawyer.
O’Malley blanched when he recognized Corrigan’s lawyer: Helena Wayne, the late Commissioner Wayne’s daughter. She was almost considered royalty by Gotham’s senior police officers, as her father had commanded their respect during his brief tenure in the latter-half of the 1970s nearly as much as the late Commissioner James W. Gordon had. She was also among the very powerful elite in Gotham City. It didn’t matter as far as Corrigan was concerned, because O’Malley had him dead to rights.
In truth, he had little idea how much it would hurt O’Malley politically both in the Department and with the Mayor.