Macleane will only borrow a little of what they’ve stolen, far less than his true share – and then, who knows? Off to a gambler’s den or an underground fight or a nightclub with cheap liquor and cheap women. When he’s certain Plunkett has fallen asleep, he will creep to the vent where his partner stashes the goods. It baffles Macleane how Plunkett always seems to mean what he says.įinally, though, Macleane will be left alone with their pile of jewels and cash. He lacks Macleane’s flourishes, his airs, but even with his rough accent and rougher profession, Plunkett possesses an honesty which Macleane doubts he ever will. “I’m going to bed,” Plunkett will declare. Perhaps the pair will exchange barbs, or perhaps Macleane will wait in silence for Plunkett to tire.Įventually, the adrenaline from the night’s escapades will run out, and Plunkett’s heavy lids will droop. Macleane will slouch onto a settee and watch the other man, envying the contentment Plunkett seems to find from such menial work. Once they’re safely inside the flat, Plunkett will stash the night’s takings and settle into a chair so he can clean and oil their guns. Macleane knows his partner’s most recent accommodations were in prison cell in Blackgate and before that a firetrap in the Bowery, but Plunkett’s utter lack of refinery does irk him. The address impresses Plunkett to no end, even though it’s three blocks too far from the Clocktower to be considered truly fashionable. The pair of them will disappear into the night and meander their way back towards their rented apartment in Old Gotham. A small part of Macleane worries that particular flair will attract the attention of Gotham’s finest – but he does appreciate showmanship, and they do need to make a clean getaway, so he agreed to the flash bomb’s use. Macleane’s movements will be as smooth as silk, and later, when the couple recounts the tale to their wealthy friends, the wife will note how he cut a figure that was both imposing and gentlemanly.Īfter Plunkett and Macleane have taken everything that isn’t nailed down, the former will toss one of his patented flash bombs into the air. Plunkett will take the rich prat’s money, and Macleane will divest Mrs. "Stand and deliver!" Macleane will bellow into the night, loudly enough to show their targets that they mean business but not so loudly that he summons the Batman. You're just playing at a thug, and I'm the genuine artifact, Macleane.") But in the heat of the moment, Plunkett will fall into line, and the pedigreed wanker behind the steering wheel will find himself staring down the barrels of their pistols. (Plunkett will bristle at this and doubtlessly chastise him for it later. Macleane will lead Plunkett into the street. The car will meander its way along, its occupants tipsy off of expensive champagne and ignorant to the fact that in Gotham, even in the poshest neighborhood, crime must always be sated with a victim. Fuck knows he should never be able to forget how his guts have turned liquid in the lead up to the robbery.įour, five minutes into the future, a luxury town car will turn onto the same street where Plunkett and Macleane now wait, cloaked in shadows and brandishing guns. Maybe Macleane will remember these sights, sounds, sensations for the rest of his life. The sound of Gotham at night and the tight fit of his mask just below his chin, where the loop of a noose would tuck.
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