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It was far too cold for an outdoor press conference on the steps of City Hall. Which was a shame, since Borg had learned in his ten years as mayor how to use the symbols of his job to great effect. Instead, he was force inside the warm, well-appointed and slowly aging Blue Room, where mayors had head meetings and press conferences since 1899. He stood in front of the podium and looked out on a crowd three times larger than any he’d seen since he won the election back in ’79.
In ’79, he was younger and slimmer and still had most of his hair. And he was full of promises, promises to a city that had suffered years of decay and crime and mismanagement. Back then, when he faced the press, it was with a smile and a devil-may-care grin. Back then, he thought he could save Gotham.
But on this cold January morning a decade later, he was a shadow. All his efforts – the energy he put into the city’s bicentennial, the appointment of Jim Gordon, the cultivation of Harvey Dent – all were forgotten as the indictments waited to be unsealed in five hours.
He adjusted the microphone, and looked at Harvey, who chose to stand by his mentor and to stand against a man who should have been their ally in fixing the city. He looked for Gordon, but knew that the veteran cop felt it best to stay outside the fray. He looked for Bruce Wayne, whose support he would need if he dared run again, and didn’t find him. (What else was new?) And he looked over the sea of reporters, trying to find the ones who were there for the scandal alone, and those who made City Hall their beat. In the third row, he found Alexander Knox, the most annoying and most dedicated reporter he’d ever not talked to. Knox, Borg believed, would at least try to get the facts right before the lynching.
“Ladies and gentleman, I think you all know why you are here. So I will begin with a statement.
“Later today, the US Attorney will see fit to offer indictments against me for bribery. For influence peddling. For crimes that I did not and could not commit. And yet I must explain myself so that you understand my regret on this day.
“Ten years ago, I was elected by the people of Gotham City to repair a broken system. In order to win that election, I made alliances with men who had no connection with the old machine or with the mob bosses who had long controlled Gotham. But these alliances came with a cost. Certain promises were made, promises that required the new allies be rewarded. Not once in my efforts to pay back my supporters was a single law broken. Not once was city money wasted on unnecessary services. Not once did I or anyone involved receive any money or rewards. It was business as usual, and I am sad to say that I knew it was going to be that way.
“For most of my first term, I let such things happen. These things, however, also gave me the support I needed to begin the long process of recreating our failing city. When I faced the voted in 1983, Gotham was stronger. And so was I. It is a matter of record that the vast majority of my backers from my first campaign contributed little or nothing to my second campaign. I knew that I could trust the people of this city to chose wisely, and to give me a mandate my former allies could not challenge. Steadily – and this is also a matter of public record – contracts and bids were handled in a better, more fair, way. Allies thus became enemies.
“Today, with a new and eager federal attorney in Gotham, I fear that these enemies turned their anger and bitterness into the charges that will be revealed today. They will claim that their successes of ten years ago occurred because I asked for and received rewards. That a man as seemingly honorable as Joel Foley, an ally in the battle against the mobs till this point, would believe such lies astounds me. I choose to think that he merely been blinded by this city’s well-deserved reputation and that he has not given in the voices I once heeded.
“Thus I come before you, the people of the press and the people of this great city, to state that I am innocent of any and all charges. That it was my own foolishness that got me into this strait, I cannot change. But I will fight for Gotham as I always have.”
_______
The press conference was a formality. Nothing Borg or Dent said after this was as important as the statement. Which gave Knox a chance to look over his notes, and to trade a few fast observations with Nick Roy. Roy would follow the story from the City Hall POV, Knox from the prosecution along with Glenn Marwell, the ex-lawyer who worked as a freelancer for the paper and its Sunday supplement. There was little here that surprised Roy or Knox. Borg had no choice but to explain himself in some way, given that almost everything he said about the case would be made public in days.
Still, it was almost wrenching, even for a cynic, to see a public servant brought down so far, so fast. Even cleared of the charges, Borg could never run for a fourth term. Allies were in short supply. And Gothamites…of course they would believe the worst There would not be much of a public debate. By the next morning’s papers, Borg would have been convicted.
And that bothered Knox.
When the indictments were released that afternoon at a press conference attended by pretty much everyone who was at City Hall, Knox was in the back, leeting Marwell do the work. Joel Foley, a polished lawyer in a perfect navy blue suit with perfect blonde hair, laid out the case, but Knox wasn’t quite listening. He knew the details, and he knew that something was rotten here. There were people out there, far less perfect and far more cunning than Foley or Borg or Dent, who made this happen. But who? Max Schreck, who once called Borg a moron to his face? The other Harvey Dent, the pricey Texan defense attorney who wanted the Gotham native Harvey Dent’s job and had connections throughout the legal world? Jack Napier, striking from the grave or from hiding? Bruce Wayne? Lex Luthor?
OK, those last two possibilities were unlikely, but Knox knew what he had to do. Follow every lead. And it would need to be done fast, before word got out that he was doing it. The Gazette would copy his every move once they saw him on the trail.
The only thing he doubted was that he could save William Borg. As Knox left the Federal Building that cold day, he remembered Raymond Donovan. Donovan had been Reagan’s Secretary of Labor, and had been tried for corruption. And acquitted. After the trial, Donovan asked, “"Where do I go to get my reputation back?" Knox had little doubt that in six months’ time, Borg would be asking the same thing.
In ’79, he was younger and slimmer and still had most of his hair. And he was full of promises, promises to a city that had suffered years of decay and crime and mismanagement. Back then, when he faced the press, it was with a smile and a devil-may-care grin. Back then, he thought he could save Gotham.
But on this cold January morning a decade later, he was a shadow. All his efforts – the energy he put into the city’s bicentennial, the appointment of Jim Gordon, the cultivation of Harvey Dent – all were forgotten as the indictments waited to be unsealed in five hours.
He adjusted the microphone, and looked at Harvey, who chose to stand by his mentor and to stand against a man who should have been their ally in fixing the city. He looked for Gordon, but knew that the veteran cop felt it best to stay outside the fray. He looked for Bruce Wayne, whose support he would need if he dared run again, and didn’t find him. (What else was new?) And he looked over the sea of reporters, trying to find the ones who were there for the scandal alone, and those who made City Hall their beat. In the third row, he found Alexander Knox, the most annoying and most dedicated reporter he’d ever not talked to. Knox, Borg believed, would at least try to get the facts right before the lynching.
“Ladies and gentleman, I think you all know why you are here. So I will begin with a statement.
“Later today, the US Attorney will see fit to offer indictments against me for bribery. For influence peddling. For crimes that I did not and could not commit. And yet I must explain myself so that you understand my regret on this day.
“Ten years ago, I was elected by the people of Gotham City to repair a broken system. In order to win that election, I made alliances with men who had no connection with the old machine or with the mob bosses who had long controlled Gotham. But these alliances came with a cost. Certain promises were made, promises that required the new allies be rewarded. Not once in my efforts to pay back my supporters was a single law broken. Not once was city money wasted on unnecessary services. Not once did I or anyone involved receive any money or rewards. It was business as usual, and I am sad to say that I knew it was going to be that way.
“For most of my first term, I let such things happen. These things, however, also gave me the support I needed to begin the long process of recreating our failing city. When I faced the voted in 1983, Gotham was stronger. And so was I. It is a matter of record that the vast majority of my backers from my first campaign contributed little or nothing to my second campaign. I knew that I could trust the people of this city to chose wisely, and to give me a mandate my former allies could not challenge. Steadily – and this is also a matter of public record – contracts and bids were handled in a better, more fair, way. Allies thus became enemies.
“Today, with a new and eager federal attorney in Gotham, I fear that these enemies turned their anger and bitterness into the charges that will be revealed today. They will claim that their successes of ten years ago occurred because I asked for and received rewards. That a man as seemingly honorable as Joel Foley, an ally in the battle against the mobs till this point, would believe such lies astounds me. I choose to think that he merely been blinded by this city’s well-deserved reputation and that he has not given in the voices I once heeded.
“Thus I come before you, the people of the press and the people of this great city, to state that I am innocent of any and all charges. That it was my own foolishness that got me into this strait, I cannot change. But I will fight for Gotham as I always have.”
_______
The press conference was a formality. Nothing Borg or Dent said after this was as important as the statement. Which gave Knox a chance to look over his notes, and to trade a few fast observations with Nick Roy. Roy would follow the story from the City Hall POV, Knox from the prosecution along with Glenn Marwell, the ex-lawyer who worked as a freelancer for the paper and its Sunday supplement. There was little here that surprised Roy or Knox. Borg had no choice but to explain himself in some way, given that almost everything he said about the case would be made public in days.
Still, it was almost wrenching, even for a cynic, to see a public servant brought down so far, so fast. Even cleared of the charges, Borg could never run for a fourth term. Allies were in short supply. And Gothamites…of course they would believe the worst There would not be much of a public debate. By the next morning’s papers, Borg would have been convicted.
And that bothered Knox.
When the indictments were released that afternoon at a press conference attended by pretty much everyone who was at City Hall, Knox was in the back, leeting Marwell do the work. Joel Foley, a polished lawyer in a perfect navy blue suit with perfect blonde hair, laid out the case, but Knox wasn’t quite listening. He knew the details, and he knew that something was rotten here. There were people out there, far less perfect and far more cunning than Foley or Borg or Dent, who made this happen. But who? Max Schreck, who once called Borg a moron to his face? The other Harvey Dent, the pricey Texan defense attorney who wanted the Gotham native Harvey Dent’s job and had connections throughout the legal world? Jack Napier, striking from the grave or from hiding? Bruce Wayne? Lex Luthor?
OK, those last two possibilities were unlikely, but Knox knew what he had to do. Follow every lead. And it would need to be done fast, before word got out that he was doing it. The Gazette would copy his every move once they saw him on the trail.
The only thing he doubted was that he could save William Borg. As Knox left the Federal Building that cold day, he remembered Raymond Donovan. Donovan had been Reagan’s Secretary of Labor, and had been tried for corruption. And acquitted. After the trial, Donovan asked, “"Where do I go to get my reputation back?" Knox had little doubt that in six months’ time, Borg would be asking the same thing.
