Gotham Memoirs: 4-9 At My Wit's End

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I lose Prosecutor Boseman's help and worse, am fired from my job. But something more sinister comes my way.

Info

• Style: No dress up component
• Required: Davis Goodwill Lv. 6
• Rewards: 1,000 , 1 Reader's Coupon, 1 Gift Material, 1 Crafting Material

Dialogue Choices

Please note, some players experience significant glitches if their most recent choice in 4-8 Dilemma was not "Don't hand over the evidence".

To obtain a different ending, go back to 4-8 Dilemma and make a different choice. Or see Gotham Memoirs Endings when you're ready for spoilers.

Transcript

Expand for script.

• I feel uneasy after returning from the Prosecutor's office. I cannot shake the premonition that something bad is going to happen.
• Prosecutor Boseman's stern face, and her loaded words... Shivers run down my spine when I recall them.
• I decide to do something to take my mind off it, and assuage the anxiety and worry I feel.

If you have evidence

• You: (Right, the evidence... Let me comb through it again. Maybe I'll find more clues.)

• I force myself to concentrate, throwing myself into the task. Hopefully, I can decipher something obscure.
• A list of unfamiliar codes, and a normal phone book.
• You: (Argh, I can't decode the list, and there are no clues in the phone book.)

• Sighing, I pack them away again.
• You: (What do those rows of numbers means? I hope I can find an answer soon.)

• Only Officer Walter Taylor's file is left on the table.
• The cover page has Officer Taylor's name, police identification number, and precinct he was posted to.
• I flip open the file, skimming through the records in front. I pause at the last few pages, which record the missing person case of a girl named Amy.
• You: (Amy? That's Jessica's daughter's name... She must be Officer Taylor's granddaughter.)

• Walter Taylor and Bob Wilson were in charge of investigating this missing persons case.
• They didn't make any headway for some time. Bob Wilson volunteered to withdraw from the investigation.
• Taylor continued investigating alone, and uncovered dozens more missing children. He reported this to his superiors.
• I look at the list of victims. My heart aches as I read their names out loud.
• You: Emma Smith, Lucy Schmidt, Mari Hoffman...

• According to the records, they went missing on their way home from school, and they all attended the same school...
• My heart starts to race. I feel I've stumbled upon something really important, and I continue reading.
• Quickly, I check out the column naming the school.
• You: New York City, Charity School?

• As far as I can remember, it's a welfare school that relies on donations. It accepts children from poor families.
• You: Is this school somehow linked to the missing children?

• There is a report written by Office Taylor at the back of the file.
• His report describes his suspicion that the cases are all linked, and that the victims are all children from poor households.
• No further leads or deductions are mentioned in the report.
• The report is the last part of the file. The file can't give me any more info.
• You: (I know what happened after that... Officer Taylor died in a Mafia fight, and couldn't continue investigating...)

• You: (Could his death be linked to his investigations? Perhaps someone didn't want him probing any further, and got rid of him...)

• I recall Jessica's death, and Rossi stealing the things she left behind... They all seem linked now.
• I might have a vague idea of what happened, but I lack evidence to back me up.
• After a brief, flustered moment, my thoughts gradually become clearer. I start contemplating my next step.
• You: (Bob Wilson used to be Taylor's partner. Perhaps I should talk to him again.)

• The next day, I pay a visit to Bob Wilson, taking the file with me.
• But Wilson's attitude towards me remains unchanged. He doesn't even want to hear me out.
• No matter how much I pleaded, he is unmoved. He scowls, and chases me away.
• I've spent half the day there to no avail. I leave in a huff, empty-handed.
• At this point, I am completely unaware that something worse has happened...

• Upon reaching home, I realised that a police car is parked at the door, and some officers and conducting an investigation in my room.
• Mrs. Johnson: Miss Colvin! Finally, you're back!

• You: Mrs. Johnson! What happened here?

• Mrs.Johnson: I was out for my evening walk when I heard a commotion. When I hurried over, I discovered that the lock's been picked!

• Mrs. Johnson: Ah, it was a complete mess inside. I'm certain it was a thief!

• You: A thief? My room's been ransacked?

• Mrs. Johnson: It's dangerous everywhere these days. I had to call countless times before I managed to get the police to come.

• Mrs. Johnson: Miss Colvin, why are you just standing here? Before the police leave, go check if anything important has gone missing.

• You: Oh no, the documents...

• I remember the evidence hidden in my room and dash inside to look. I find nothing.
• You: (Indeed, they were gunning for the evidence I found at Councilman Harris' home.)

• Now that I've lose the evidence, I'm in far more trouble than ever.

If you don't have evidence

• I carefully consider my options, but utter helpless engulfs me.
• Prosecutor Boseman hasn't contacted me at all. I think I've lost her support completely.
• You: Is there...no other way?

• Without any evidence, it's a struggle to go on.

• I can only pretend that nothing's wrong, and report for work each day as normal.
• But after a few days, I am summoned to Mr. Kane's office the minute I step into the office.
• You: Mr. Kane, you wanted to see me?

• George Kane: Sit, Colvin. I have something important to tell you.

• You: Something important? Please go ahead.

• George Kane: You've been working here for a while, haven't you?

• You: Yes, thanks to your willingness to give me a chance..

• George Kane: But now I'm starting to doubt if hiring you was wise.

• You: What do you mean, Mr. Kane?

• George Kane: The trouble you caused at the Harris Mansion has severely compromised our image and reputation.

• George Kane: It's a pity. You've worked hard, but as Chief Editor here, I have to consider the larger interest of the newspaper.

• You: I see... I apologise. I'm willing to accept any punishment.

• George Kane: There's no need for that. Colvin, you're fired.

• You: Fired?

• George Kane: Yes, fired. Today will be your last day at work. This month's salary will be credited to you in advance.

• You: Wait! Mr. Kane, please don't fire me. I'm willing to accept any other form of...

• George Kane: That's not up to you. Take care, Colvin, after you leave us.

• Mr. Kane shows me out of his room. I have no choice but to complete the handover process, and leave the office in despair.
• I've lost my only source of income. Now I'll have to search for a new job in order to survive.

• You: How do you do? I saw your newspaper ad. You're looking for a typist, right? I'd like to try out for that.

• Employee: I'm sorry, but we just hired someone a couple of days ago.

• You: How about another position? I'm willing to...

• Before I can finish, I'm chased out of the premises by the irate employee.

• You: I'm finally here. I hear that you're hiring an attendant, and I think I'd be a good fit here.

• Hotel Employee: You look rather weedy, miss. The job doesn't suit you. I doubt you can do much hard work. I think you should go.

• You: But I'm really willing to work. Please give me a chance...

• Hotel Employee: Excuse me, don't block the corridor. Just leave.

• I even apply for a waitressing job, but the hiring manager shakes his head repeatedly after hearing me out.
• Restaurant Worker: You say you graduated from Imperial University, and even worked for a while as a reporter?

• You: That's right. I can work hard, and I'm willing to do my best here...

• Restaurant Worker: This isn't the place for a lady who graduated from Imperial University.You should go back to being a reporter.

• I have applied to nearly all the newspapers in New York City, but not a single one was willing to hire me.
• Before I can explain this, they've chased me out of the restaurant.

• After failing to find a job, I'm quickly running out of money. I may not be able to pay my rent next month.

If you have evidence

• You: (If I still can't find a job, I won't even be able to buy bread to eat.)

• I comfort myself and resolve to search harder tomorrow. Who knows, I might find a job that can sustain me.
• Going to the window, I sigh, preparing to draw the curtains, when I suddenly spy a black car parked downstairs.
• You: (That car looks sort of familiar... Not many cars pass by here.)

• But I am too tired to think about the suspicious-looking car. I draw the curtains and fall into a deep slumber at once.
• In my dreams, I vaguely hear something. When I wrench my eyes open, nothing seems out of order.
• I fall back into sleep again.

• Later that night, I'm awoken by a pungent odour. I sit up in bed, startled.

• There are people screaming downstairs. The building is in chaos, and I hear someone shouting "Fire!"
• You: What? Fire?

• I leap out of bed and dash to the window. Only then do I see the flames outside. Thick smoke has already flooded my room.
• You: I need to escape right now!

• The black smoke stings my eyes, and I can barely keep them open. Coughing, I cover my nose and mouth and grope for the door handle.
• The handle is scorching hot. Gritting my teeth, I jerk it repeatedly to no avail. The door does not budge, even when I slam against it.
• You: Don't tell me... The door's been tampered with.

• I have no time to think. I rush to the window...
• But the window is jammed shut, and I'm choking on the smoke. There's barely any air left to breathe...
• You: Help! Help me... Help...

• My screams for help grow weak, and are soon overwhelmed by the sounds of the disintegrating room.
• I lean against the window and knock helplessly on the pane. Vaguely, I see a figure beside the black car.
• He looks somewhat familiar, and even seems to wave in my direction...
• My world falls into darkness.

• The following day, an unremarkable newspaper publishes, in an unremarkable section of their paper, news that a young lady has perished in a fire.
• The report details in great extent the lady's tragic death, but makes no mention of her name and her life...

• In New York, authorities collude and the Mafia clashes. Friendship is the light in times of darkness, but it'll eventually be swallowed by the shadows.
• (For the sake of New York's future, try believing in Prosecutor Boseman and hand her the evidence.)
• Obtained Ending

If you don't have evidence

• I decide to call my father to tell him that I'm returning to the farm.
• Once, I had a dream. I arrived in this city full of enthusiasm. I wanted to become a great reporter. But now, I am forced to leave.
• Before leaving, I take one last look at New York City, with all its glorious lights. I may never return again.
• Perhaps I was never meant to fulfill my dream. No matter how hard I work, I can never be a part of this city.
• I smile grimly, dabbing at my tears. Then I haul my luggage on board the bus back to my hometown.
• Farewell, New York...

• Anything can happen in New York, but justice is rare for the ordinary citizen. You'll need a weapon if you want a chance at fighting evil.
• (As capable as Prosecutor Boseman is, she can't do anything without concrete evidence.)
• Obtained ending