It takes a while for Bruce to understand it himself. Though, really, that's not true. The man's just sitting there, having a good time, not talking about anything of consequence. And maybe that's the point.

'He's a crime boss,' Bruce says, eventually, not taking his eyes off him. Though the ghost probably already knows.

He walks a little closer. Someone asks Falcone a question that makes him laugh, and a judge at the next table looks over.

'...yeah, you were there that night, huh? He sat right there, and told me he wasn't afraid of me. Please. Like he knows anything about anything? Prick.'

The judge smirks. 'You know they were about to declare him dead? There some members of the board choking over him turning up alive. Would've been interesting, you know? What might have been.'

Falcone looks at him. Bruce reads a touch of confusion on his face, mostly drowned out by anger that someone knows something he doesn't.

'What are you talking about? So the kid's alive. He's a,' he mimes scissors with his fingers; a jerky, uneven gesture, 'goddamn cardboard cutout. What's he going to do?'

'That's what they're asking, Carmine.' The judge spreads his hands, like don't shoot the messenger. 'No one's seen him, no one knows where he's been. They're worried he's going to rock the boat.'

Falcone chews on the end of his cigar. Bruce turns to the ghost immediately.

'You sure this is all real? In the present? This is happening, or just did, or is just about to?'