Gotham Detective Bullock Novels & Stories

To think I was going to go to New Oak and ended up in New York, solving murders. Crime scene tape flicked like a yellow snake in the wind, and the uniforms standing around looked pale in a way that said this wasn’t their usual run on the streets. Something else had happened here. Something old. Something not human. I didn’t wait for permission. “Who’s lead?” I barked, already ducking under the tape. A young detective—barely shaving, badge crooked—stepped forward. “Detective Gorde, precinct didn’t say you were coming.”

In the end, Meredith and George decided to arrange a meeting with the police detective assigned to Helena’s case, Detective Sergio. He was a tall, lean man with clean-cut hazelnut hair. Alice could make out the wrinkles in his forehead and cheeks as he settled himself in front of her. She watched the man remove his black coat and placed it on the table before taking out a medium-sized notepad and a pen. Alice loved comic books about detectives. Her favorite was James Gordon; he was Batman’s acquaintance and a respectable captain of the Gotham City Police Department. Whenever she saw a detective, she could not help but be mesmerized by their badges and work.

The perfect life with Jenna Grabbing his travel mug of coffee, and his briefcase he heads to his unmarked car. His very first pay check ten years ago, he went and bought this car and it’s still going. When he got to the station and checked his voicemail, there were five new messages, all from the family of the victims from the murder drug scene he worked a month ago. They’re understandably hurt, shocked and desperate for answers, and they're calling to see if he had any leads or evidence.

It looked like that was exactly what happened. “I have some bad news, Lizzy,” he said, reluctantly. Jim Bullock was an imposingly bulky man who stood five feet eleven inches. His bulk was primarily muscle. Although, I’d noticed over the last few years he’d begun to go a little soft and thick around the middle. Even so, he was a formidable looking character in his police uniform. I was certain that he would be even if he didn’t have a gun on his hip. I always enjoyed Jim’s visits to the diner. I found him to be quick witted and delightfully humorous. He’d brightened more than one gloomy day with his outrageous tales of crimes gone wrong.

Hunter shifts uncomfortable while Father shoots him a deadly look. “Miss Davi, please accept my deepest condolences to your family. Please know that the police department is always willing to ensure that justice is served,” Detective Solomon whispers close to my ear. I don’t bother turning to look at him, nor do I respond. Solomon is the best detective in Asherway but he knows how futile his presence is here. That does not stop him from showing up at every mafia funeral though. This is despite no one ever talking to him. He even wears all black like us, you would swear that he was also mafia.

Photos from the latest surveillance by the private detective team Aaron hired were spread across the table. Jerry Baxter’s face appeared in every shot. In some, he was chatting in front of a club, in another at a roadside hot dog stand, and in several other locations. Aaron exhaled after learning that Jerry was working under a mafia boss named Rocco. “Oh God, just like Rose feared. Her father is still involved with people like this.” Aaron rubbed his throbbing temple. Even though he had never dealt with underground figures before, the private investigator’s report was crystal clear. Rocco was a legend in the city, known as “The Butcher.”

"Nobody pisses off the Boss and walks away breathing. I heard stories about the things that man will do with his own two hands." She despised the way her partner said the Boss like some kind of hero-worshipping groupie. She'd always hated bullies, and as far as she was concerned, Vladimir Sitnikov was the biggest one of all. He and his like were the reason she was a cop. She hated that Sitnikov ran this city, her city. She wanted him in jail where he belonged. "I hope he's pissed Grubs, I really do. Maybe he'll slip up this time and I can do what no other detective's been able to, come up with solid evidence on that slippery son-of-a-bitch."

Cattleya’s POV ONE WEEK LATER, I dropped the hot coffee, sending it splattering across the floor. Then, my heart pounded as I listened to the news report. "Breaking News: The notorious drug lord, false identity as a good detective turned out to be the son of Don Marco Gambino. The police already have him in jail, and it's true that the authorities got all the evidence that Nikolai Gambino, also known as Nikolai Stone, working as a detective, is the man who killed Ariella Sullivan and kidnapped her twin sister, Cattleya Sullivan..."

A cocky grin crossed his face, drawing my attention to those damn dimples again. I uncrossed my legs and then crossed them again. "It's a necessary precaution." He held his arms up and shrugged. "And I get that. Being the daughter of the wealthy, powerful, notorious Wall Street guru, Dante Bologna has its downsides, I suppose." I glowered at him from underneath my lashes. "Tell me what you want, Detective Gunner." He tucked his phone back into his pants pocket. "I want you to tell me what the fuck is happening in this city."

The man before him slurred and he moaned a yes in agreement, she leaned against the pillar, the darkness embracing her from the light that'd give away her position. "Kali... That's bullshit... the bitch killed a lot of 'em but you see... I heard from one of my associates from CBI that... the private detective Zero is here. He'll drag that bitch out of her rat hole..." With that said, they bursted out laughing loudly. The men banged their fists down as they laughed uncontrollably and a strange chain of soft giggles laced along with theirs. The man frowned as he turned to look around for the source of the third laughter.