Asprin, Robert Lynn – Catwoman – Tiger Hunt (With Lynn Abbey)

Telemetry indicated that the truth had been uttered, but not—as television was apt to say—the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Random violence wasn’t unique to Gotham City. The Connection’s line of work took him, or his minions, into the world’s worst hellholes. He’d had other deals go sour in just this way. It was part of the cost of doing business. You scrambled, you recouped, you put the squeeze on one drug gang after another until they did your dirty work and produced the stolen property.

Tiger knew this.

Then one side of the split screen hailed. The Connection cleared and refocused the screen. He watched in realtime as a transaction began its journey to the central memory: Gotham Memorial Hospital. Ten minutes ago a twenty-one-year-old Soviet immigrant admitted in serious condition with gunshot wounds to the chest and abdomen. The patient had been brought to Gotham Memorial by Batman, who advised that another body—another Soviet national—remained at the scene. The police had been notified and a meat wagon had been dispatched to the address: 208 Broad Street.

The Connection rubbed his eyes and returned his undivided attention to his lieutenant. He could guess what had happened with a high degree of confidence, but it was always better to get a confession.

“One of the Bessarabians could have taken the box, or the gang, or someone else. Who else, Tiger? Who else could have taken the box with the icon in it?”

The Connection fingered a dial. A readout showed that the strobe flashes were quicker now, and even more intense. Tiger’s pulse quickened immediately and his blood pressure soared. Veins throbbed across his forehead and temples.