#crime library

Or how Red Hood starting reading to kids at a public library

Jason is out patrolling one night, when he gets hit super hard in the helmet, and it gives him a concussion. The kind where your vision is kind of dark, and you aren't exactly sure about the year, or what's happening. And all Jason sees out of the cracked lenses of his helmet is the old crime alley library that used to be a home away from home for him.

Its nothing like the Gotham City Public Library that Babs works out of. Its not even government funded, but rather a library made up of odd books that have been donated to the grizzled old lady who seems to have been running the library for as long as Jason has been alive.

Even in crime alley its something of a bastion of peace, unlike most buildings, its only ever been broken into for people to leave stuff rather than take. The citizens of crime alley for this reason call it the 'Crime Library', and joke about how any crime you want to commit - you can find out how to here.

So naturally when heavily concussed, Jason heads towards the only thing in crime alley that feels remotely safe to his addled brain.

Jason climbs into an unlatched window on the bottom floor, landing on a welcome mat - placed there after the many break ins kept dirtying the floor. And squinty-eyed, he sneaks through the dark towards the old, raggedly, bright pink bean bag in the corner. Many nights the librarian, Gladys he thinks, allowed him to sleep here. When he falls into it, he breaths a sigh of relief and immediately falls asleep.

The next morning he is awoken by a shuffle and immediately tries to jump up, but only struggles in the not filled enough bean bag, and just end up squirming around a bit like a fish.

To his surprise he hears laughter at his attempts and looks up to see Gladys with her hands on her hips staring down at him.

"Red Hood, or should I say young mister Jason" her eyes are wrinkled by her large grin and her eyes glisten with unshed tears.

For a moment his brain short circuits and all he can do is gape up at her.

"Well, take off that mask mister Jason, I'll go make us a niceeee cup a' coffee" she says walking away towards the stairs that lead up to her apartment, before turning around and winking, "I assume you are old enough to do that now yes?" then continues to amble up the stairs.

Jason sits there for a solid minute debating if he should run, or try to make her promise not to tell anyone, or something, but honestly he doesn't think she would. So finally, he manages to get himself upright, and takes a minute to let the world stop spinning, before taking his helmet off fully, as well as his leather jacket, and ambles up the stairs after her.

He doesn't even bother asking how she knew it was him, and just takes the cup of coffee handed to him.

She simply smiles and pats him on the shoulder, doesn't ask him about what happened to him, or why he is masquerading as a crime lord, and something about that has Jason smiling for the first time in weeks.

So they go about their morning. Just chatting about the library and the alley and who last broke in. And its normal and... nice. Just plain nice.

They talk for a few hours, before he eventually has to go, and on the way out she says to him "Y'know a lot a' kids 'round here have no one to read to them, they idolize the Red Hood, see that he's doin good. If your free Wednesday afternoon your usual spot would be waitin' for you".

There's no expectation in her voice, its an honest offer and he can tell she wouldn’t be mad if he said no. So he nods his head once, before having to look away as he begins tearing up, suddenly coming to the realization that there is still a place for Jason Todd the dead boy.

As he wipes the tears away, he sees on a bookshelf, dusty and tucked in a corner, 'How to Become a Crime Lord', and cant help but walk over and take it off the shelf. You really can learn how to do crime here huh.

Kingsbury Run cuts across the east side of Cleveland like a jagged wound, ripped into the rugged terrain as if God himself had tried to disembowel the city. At some points it is nearly sixty feet deep, a barren wasteland covered with patches of wild grass, yellowed newspapers, weeds, empty tin cans and the occasional battered hull of an old car left to rust beneath the sun. Perched upon the brink of the ravine, narrow frame houses huddle close together and keep a silent watch on the area. Into this bleak industrial graveyard, walked the well-dressed, handsome and highly educated Eliot Ness, fresh from victories over Al Capone, playing a cat-and-mouse game with a most brilliant and diabolical serial killer.

The Kingsbury Run Murders remain one of the most perplexing cases in our nation’s criminal history. Rumors abound as to who may have been the killer. One thing is very clear: Eliot Ness had a suspect who he believed was undoubtedly the killer. This suspect continuedto taunt Ness for years after the killings had stopped. All official police records on this case have been lost, destroyed, or removed.

Unsolved case HERE On crime library