Batman: A Lonely Night

Written by Maelo13

(Very Rough Draft)

(The Twins, Jimmie Morretti and Mandy Stone are original characters created by me.)
(I have no such claim on Batman, Alfred or any of the other beloved characters in the
Batman Universe, they are owned by DC Comics/Warner Bros. Studios)

This is a fan fiction short story inspired by and written for my boys.
 It is a little past midnight. The storm has been raging for hours now. There
seems no end to the constant barrage of thunder and lightning filling the dark sky.
No one in their right mind would be caught outside in this weather. But this city has
more than its fair share of people who are not in their right mind and that is why he
braves the wind and rain and continues his nightly duties. Perched atop a stone
gargoyle hanging off the side of a building, Batman’s cape snaps about in
accordance with the wind. As unmoving as the gargoyle under him, Batman’s eyes
survey the city below. Gotham’s streets are bare, it seems he is alone in this great
city tonight.
He decides to call it a night when blocks away he sees a lone car traveling
down an alley. It comes out of the alley and speeds down the street in the opposite
direction. Something strikes him odd about the car, standing up he reaches into his
cape and takes out his grappling hook. Extending his arm, he aims for the rooftop
across the street and shoots. Before the hook even reaches the other side and
secures itself, he propels himself off the building, timing it just right so as he is in
his downward decent the hook catches and he swings across.
Keeping his focus on his objective he goes from rooftop to rooftop trailing the
speeding car.
The car finally enters the warehouse district and stops in front of an
abandoned warehouse. Still some blocks away Batman stops his pursuit and pulls
out his night vision binoculars and watches as a dark figure gets out of the car and
enters the warehouse.
Batman emerges from the shadows of the alley across the street from where
the dark figure entered and immediately notices something that could not possibly
be. He crosses the street and walks up to a hunk of metal that at one time could
have passed for a car. Rusted and missing large pieces from its body the car looks
like it has sat in a junkyard for the last decade. Batman knows that in Gotham
nothing is what it seems, he places his gloved hand on the hood, its cold. Could this
be the same car that just pulled up here?
His curiosity is now at an all time high and he decides to enter the warehouse
when he notices that the handles are chained and locked. A quick inspection of the
lock and chain tells him that it has been that way for some time. Batman grabs the
pen shaped laser cutter from his belt and goes to work on the chain.
The doors creaks open; Batman’s imposing silhouette glides inside, his cape
wrapped around his body. His keen senses reach out in an attempt to detect any
movement. Rain slowly drips down from the holes in the roof. Looking out the tall
windows at the other end of the warehouse he sees that the stars have made their
first appearance of the night as the storm is finally passing. Out over the ocean tiny
flashes of lightning dance across the sky.
A noise grabs his attention, he moves from around the empty shelves
peering down a hallway to an office in the back. A light in the office is on. Just as
he is about to move toward the office a rat scurries out of the way and screeches in
fear, the light quickly goes out, Batman rushes down the hall and throws open the
door. The office is empty. He walks over to the desk lamp and turns the switch, it
does not turn on. He inspects the lamp and finds there is no bulb inside of it. A
car’s engine kicking over and tires squealing fill the night air. By the time Batman is
back outside, the car and any sign of it are gone.
 Batman returns to the office, the glow from the full moon spills in from the
window behind the desk. From his belt he removes his spectral analyzer and places
it to his eye searching the desk and lamp. No fresh fingerprints can be found. The
desk’s drawers only divulge cobwebs and dust balls. With the aid of his flashlight
he notices that the dust on the shelf of a bookcase seems to have been
manipulated recently, as if someone wiped the dust away. Probing the area he runs
his hand underneath the shelf and finds a switch. Pushing it in causes the framed
artwork on the opposite wall to slide down revealing an old safe embedded inside
the wall.
*******

Alfred Pennyworth walks down the long narrow staircase leading down into
the Bat cave, carrying proudly in his hands a superbly polished silver-serving tray.
On the tray sit a steaming cup of coffee and a delectable pastry. Just as his foot
leaves the last step and hits the floor of the cave the low rumble of the Batmobile’s
engine fills the air combining with the flapping of fleshy wings and the screams of
the bats that also call this cave home. The Batmobile zooms into view stopping
abruptly, the driving compartment hatch slides open and Batman jumps out.
“Perfect timing sir, if I do say so myself.”
“Good morning Alfred, you’re up early.”
“Last night was a most dreadful night and I thought a nice cup of hot coffee
would do wonders to warm those chilled bones of yours Master Bruce.”
“What would I do without you Alfred?”
He decides not to remind Alfred that the unique design of the suit keeps him free
from dealing with the harsher elements of the weather. Besides even if Alfred knew
that little fact, which he probably does, he would still be there waiting after a cold
night with a warm refreshment in hand.
Batman lifts the cowl above his head grabs the cup and takes a well-received
sip.
“Alfred, do you believe in ghosts?”
“Ghosts, Master Bruce?”
After a short pause, “Nothing, never mind. You must be exhausted, why don’t
you go back up to bed and catch up on sleep.”
“Sleep? Nonsense sir, this manor does not take care of itself you know. Just
leave the dishes I will be by to pick them up later.”
He watches Alfred ascend the long staircase up to the manor.
“Alfred.”
Alfred stops and turns around.
“Yes Master Bruce?”
Batman lifts the cup into the air.
“Thank you.”
“Of course, Master Bruce.”
With a nod of his head and a warm smile Alfred disappears up the stairs.

*******
 Out of the suit and in an expensive perfectly tailored bathrobe, Batman sits
at one of the many workstations in the Bat cave peering into a microscope. Alfred
comes down the stairs.
“You know how I hate to interrupt you, sir.”
“Yes, what is it, Alfred?” responds Bruce as he continues to gaze into the
scope.
“The annual stockholders brunch at the Emerald Hills Country Club will be
starting in two hours.” “You are giving the closing speech.”
Undeterred by this oversight his attention remains on his work.
“Master Bruce?”
He finally looks up.
“Alfred, a very peculiar thing happened last night. I can’t get my head around
it and the only clue I have to go on is this small piece of half burnt paper that I found
in a hidden safe at an abandoned warehouse.” He takes the slide out from the
microscope and hands it to Alfred.
Alfred looks it over quickly, “Looks like an ordinary piece of paper, sir.” He is
about to hand it back when he notices something, “Wait, this insignia here, it seems
familiar.”
“Yes, that is the logo of the company that occupied the building at one time,
a company called Simpson Securities, they manufactured high end locks, safes, and
vaults for banks, the government and even private use. They had a lucrative
business for some time but went out of business close to thirty years ago. The
warehouse where I found that piece of paper has changed owner hands a couple
times after that, but now has been abandoned for some time.”
After a long pause and mostly to himself he carries on, “I can’t escape the
feeling that it was leading me to something else. It went to too much trouble to get
my attention.” He walks away towards the staircase with face down his chin held in
his hand.
“It, Master Bruce? I’m afraid you lost me sir, do you mean to say someone
other than yourself was out in that dreadful weather last night”, he asks curiously.
“Another escapee from Arkahm……….. the Joker perhaps?”
Already halfway up the stairs, he answers without turning around. “No, I
checked Arkahm, all guests present and accounted for.” After a short pause he
finally comes to the only conclusion left. “No Alfred, I was all alone last night.”
Before Alfred can respond Master Bruce is out of sight, he looks back at the
slide still in his hand
“Peculiar indeed.”

*******

Later that day at the Emerald Hills Country Club, Bruce Wayne basks in the
after glow of his speech in the large hall where the stockholders brunch is taking
place. Standing right below the podium where he just spoke the attendees shake
hands and congratulate him as they make their way to the large table at the center
of the room where the buffet brunch is being served. Two chefs at either end of a
large table take orders as others acquire their meal from the fresh fruit and already
prepared food slowly cooking on open flames throughout the table. The hall is
beautifully decorated with fresh exotic flowers and at the center of the large table is
an ice sculpture-depicting twin rearing horses.
At the entrance of the hall a tall long-legged, astonishingly beautiful woman
enters.
The porter, who takes a second to catch his breath upon looking at her
perfectly formed face, stops her and says in a stuffy voice, “Excuse me Miss, this is a
private event.”
Many of the people nearby as is seldom the case when one with such rare
beauty enters a room, look up from their plates and conversations to take notice.
The majority of onlookers immediately recognize her while quickly informing the
ones who can’t quite place her on who she is. A handsome ambitious man, who
was serving himself a plate of food and now has stopped to watch the unfolding
scene at the door, puts down his plate and rushes over.
After several attempts to enter the hall, the porter, despite the ladies’ beauty,
has had quite enough of this young woman and her persistence at trying to crash
the brunch. As he is about to pick up the phone and call security the handsome
man unabashedly inserts himself into the situation.
“Uh, excuse me, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding but she’s with me,” he
says through one of his best put on smiles.
Not one to miss an opportunity the beautiful woman responds to the
handsome man as if she has known him for years.
She moves smoothly toward the man and puts her arm in his, looks back and
says to the porter. “Satisfied?”
The porter sheepishly replies, “Of course Miss, I was only doing my job. I
would like to say though that I am a big fan and - -“
She waves him off, “Yeah, yeah who isn’t?”
They begin to walk off arm in arm when over her shoulder she tells the porter
nonchalantly, “They’re with me.”
Her entourage, a group of six people follow behind her making an even
bigger scene. The porter helplessly watches as they all walk inside.
More than happy with himself the handsome man walks by a few tables
enjoying the looks he is receiving from having such a famous and beautiful woman
on his arm. A circumstance that unfortunately for him is about to change.
As they make their way further into the hall he notices even though her arm
is entwined with his, her attention is clearly not with him. Without regard for his
help or even of his presence she takes back her arm and walks away excitedly
whispering to one of her entourage, a short red haired woman. The handsome man
begins to follow after her with his arm outstretched reaching for her. He abruptly
stops when twin large black men, wearing expensive suits and dark shades block
his path. Their arms are crossed over their chests and their stern granite
expressions look down at him. Quickly getting the idea, he straightens his tie,
smoothes out his jacket with both hands and then embarrassedly walks away.
Bruce Wayne continues to graciously shake well wisher’s hands as he
engages in conversation with one of the stockholders. As his full concentration is
upon the person in front of him, his well-honed senses enable him to discern the
change in the atmosphere, particularly by the front entrance. With his peripheral
vision he views a tall beautiful woman walking at a swift pace pointing and heading
in his direction with a shorter red haired woman in tow.
“I must say Mr. Wayne you really outdid last years meeting. Have you tried
the lobster omelet?”
Bruce quickly interjects, “You know what? I think I just might do that. If
you’ll excuse me.” Bruce shakes the man’s hand but does not get far when a lady
with poofy hair intercepts him and proceeds to tell him how delightfully decorated
the hall is.
The poofy haired lady begins to change the conversation as Bruce politely
listens to an explanation on which direction Wayne Industries should be heading.
Bruce feels a tap on his shoulder, upon turning around he finds Lucius Fox looking a
bit uncomfortable.
“Sorry to interrupt Bruce, there is someone here that is very interested in
meeting you.” Stepping right in front of the poofy haired lady and blocking her view
of Bruce, the red haired woman from the entourage takes over the introduction.
“May we take a moment of your time?” She asks rhetorically, and then
continues on. “By the way fabulous shindig you have going on here, the food smells
delicious.
Suspecting that this might take awhile and sensing the awkwardness of
Lucius and the poofy haired woman, Bruce places his hand up stopping the red
haired woman’s next breath before it can form into a word.
“Lucius, this charming lady here has some great suggestions. Would you
mind”?
Taking the cue Lucius valiantly leads the poofy haired lady away to discuss
her suggestions.
“Suggestions? I got one. How ‘bout a haircut from this decade?” snorts the
red haired woman snickering at her own joke.
Not impressed Bruce stares, waiting for her to continue.
“You know what, I think I can take it from here,” says the tall beautiful
woman.
The red haired lady steps back and joins the rest of the entourage. Bruce
looks over at them and immediately notices her twin bodyguards. Simultaneously
they take off their shades revealing piercing blue eyes, which show more
prominently in contrast to the dark hue of their skin. A smile creeps onto both of
their lips, smiles clearly not intended for polite reasons. Standing between them is
a petite brunette of Eastern decent. She causes Bruce to pause and observe her for
a moment. He notices how her eyes dart around the room ever so slightly in a calm
yet patterned manner, how she distributes her weight perfectly between her legs,
not standing back on her heels but up on her toes. She pays him no mind as if
Bruce doesn’t exist. Bruce wonders to himself who the true bodyguard really is.
“I am in town for a few weeks and I could not pass up the opportunity to
meet Gotham’s favorite son,” the tall striking woman says.
Her voice turns Bruce’s gaze away from her entourage back to her. Bruce
has noticed the attention and open mouthed stares that she has been receiving
from the crowd and knows better than to ask her who she is.
He quickly adds, “It’s very nice to meet you.”
She cocks her head slightly to the side curiously, not understanding his luke warm
reception. Either Bruce Wayne likes to stay cool in all situations, she thinks to
herself, or he has no idea who I am. If her publicist assumes the same it will anger
her to no end and cause her face to match the red color of her hair, but for her, this
strangely takes her interest in Bruce Wayne to a whole other level. She smiles and
bites down on the corner of her lip trying hard to sustain her excitement, all the
while staring dreamily into his eyes. For the first time in a long time she is
speechless and does not know what to say next.
“Uh, so what brings you to Gotham? Bruce quickly puts in, sensing her
tongue-tied state.
As predicted the publicist’s cheeks are a rosy tinge and she has had about
enough. She reaches into her bag and steps forward once again. “Mandy Stone”,
she says with the most extreme pronunciation and just the right amount of volume
she can manage before it is considered a yell, “is in town for her well publicized
Broadway musical ‘Fame Children’, which is playing for two weekends only, two
weekends more than I would have allowed if it was up to me”. She shoots Mandy a
quick stern look and continues on, “As she has already mentioned, she could not
pass up the opportunity to meet your acquaintance and for reasons beyond me has
a strong desire for you to come and be her special guest at tomorrow evenings
opening night.” She hands out a ticket towards Bruce, which he accepts. “So
consider yourself officially invited”, she turns back to Mandy her attitude simmering
down quite a bit, “Can we go now? This place is starting to stink.”
Mandy rolls her eyes at her publicist then smiles brightly at Bruce. She
moves in closer to him and lightly kisses him on the cheek then whispers in his ear,
“Hope you can come.”
She turns around whipping her long blonde hair about glowering at her
publicist who steps in line with the rest of the entourage and follows her out. At
about midway down the long table of food a fan steps up to try and get Mandy’s
autograph. One of the twin’s places his large hand out stopping the fan cold.
Mandy motions for the bodyguard to let the fan come through, she takes the pad
and pen and hurriedly scribbles onto the paper. Mandy and the group take off
again, leaving the fan without his favorite pen. She passes a plate of fresh cut
melons and realizes she forgot to give the pen back. Without stopping she sticks
the pen into one of the larger pieces of melon. Looking over at the handsome
man’s table, the one who helped her in, she playfully waves over then blows him a
kiss and walks out of the hall leaving the stunned people a story that none of their
friends will ever believe, a story that one handsome man in the hall hopes never to
have to relive again.

*******

Alfred Pennyworth stands straight and proud donned in his driver’s outfit
waiting by Master Bruce’s 1939 Bentley. He opens the door for Bruce who sits down
with a look of great contemplation on his face. Alfred gets behind the wheel and
drives off.
“Will you be needing to head into town, sir? Alfred asks looking back at him
through the rear-view mirror.
 “No, not today Alfred. I need to get back to the cave and do some work,” he
replies in a somber tone as he rests his elbow on the window frame and gently rubs
his chin with his hand. He quietly looks out at the countryside in deep thought.
“More work to do on the significance of that elusive piece of paper you found
last night I take it? Alfred asks.
Bruce comes alive at the mention of the paper.
“You know Alfred, It is all I have been able to think about today,” states
Bruce.
“I would think an enormously famous and quite attractive actress going out
of her way to meet you would put a dent in that line of thinking. Possibly giving you
something else to mull over in that ever working head of yours,” he says in a matter
of fact manner. Bruce brings himself to take his gaze away from the fast
approaching skyline of his beloved Gotham and looks at the back of Alfred’s head
with great curiosity.
“How pray tell is it that you would know such a thing?” Bruce asks in between
a smile.
“I just so happened to have a delightful conversation with the driver of Miss
Stone’s limousine,” he replies.
Shocked, Bruce asks to no one in particular, “Am I the only person in Gotham
that does not know who she is?”
“In your defense sir, you are a very busy individual who has virtually no time
for entertainment,” chimes in Alfred playfully.
“You’ve never driven the batmobile at top speed,” Bruce retorts sitting back
against the well-upholstered seats with an endearing grin.
Alfred so enjoys these tender moments when Master Bruce once again
resembles the small boy he once knew. It never crosses Alfred’s mind to hope for
Master Bruce to cease being the Batman, this city and her people need the Dark
Knight. But Alfred has come to realize, with some reservations, that after the
untimely and tragic deaths of Bruce’s parents that that young boy became more
than what he was, that in some strange way Bruce died that day with Thomas and
Martha. It is no longer a feasible option for Bruce to stop being Batman. For that to
happen Bruce would simply have to quit breathing. For it is the Batman that drives
Bruce, it is the Batman that defines him.
“Miss Stone’s driver informed me of her wishes of having you attend her
show. No doubt you will have an agreeable time. It will also be a great opportunity
for Bruce Wayne to be out and about enjoying Gotham’s nightlife. ”
“I’m not going”, responds Bruce.
If Alfred is surprised he does not let it show.
“May I ask why, sir”?
“She is rude and pretentious,” he states boldly. You should have seen the
scene she created back at the brunch. No, I don’t think it will be a good idea.
Besides I have work to do.”
“You surprise me Master Bruce.” Alfred responds calmly. “First I would like to
point out, if I may be so daring, that Bruce Wayne has been as mysterious and
reclusive as the Batman lately, and if one is to believe the two are separate
individuals than I would suggest having the comparison between the two be as far
from similar as possible. Bruce Wayne is a young man. A young rich man. And he
should be seen parading young beautiful women around town while spending
enormous amounts of money on them. This is one such occasion that suits that
scenario perfectly.”
Alfred pauses to let the point sink in as Bruce thoughtfully looks on.
“As far as Miss Stone’s antics go. . . . well. . . .what we allow others to see of
ourselves is not always who we truly are. You of all people should understand that.”

*******

Jimmie Moretti was once a young vigorous man, who held a lofty position in
an elaborate crime syndicate, called the Contadino. Today he is an out of shape,
revolting, middle aged two-bit mobster. Jimmie, far removed from his ties with his
former cohorts now pursues his semi successful self-made career of loan sharking.
Although his current endeavors will never bring him the prominence and prestige he
once held, it brings to him enough cash to afford all the oysters one man can handle
and the added benefit of having something that was in short supply in his criminal
youth. Pleasure. Pleasure of seeing people pounded to a pulp when the deadline to
a loan has passed and the money owed has not been paid. Jimmie always makes it
a priority to be present when such a moment happens.
Behind a popular Gotham nightclub in a dark filthy alley one such moment is
taking place right now. Jimmie, who is never far from his silver bucket of raw
oysters, slurps sloppily away at the fresh shellfish as his nephew, Antony, delivers
blow after blow to the poor soul who has missed his payment deadline. Each hard
blow reverberates against the walls of the alley, each punch sounding more vicious
than the previous one.
Antony’s cousin Tony, the youngest of the Moretti family, is spending his
appointed time, as newcomers to the operation usually do, as Jimmie’s assistant.
The rest of the family affectionately refers to Tony as ‘bucket boy’. His job is to
stand close to his uncle Jimmie so that whenever the mood strikes him his uncle
will never be more than an arm length away from a tasty snack. When the bucket
gets low he then goes to the van that follows them wherever they go and fills it back
up. At the moment Tony is trying to figure out whether the sick feeling he feels in
his stomach is from the disgusting display of this uncle slurping down oyster after
oyster or the horrible beating his cousin is giving to the unfortunate man. It may
also stem from the look of pleasure that is on his uncle’s face as he watches the
beating unfold before his eyes.
Having taken in more than he can handle he turns back up to the entrance of
the alley where Bruno, another cousin of his, stands looking out for cops while
keeping unwanted passerby’s from witnessing what’s taking place further down the
alley. The neon sign to the pawnshop just around the corner intermittently flashes
in and out at irregular intervals eerily bathing his cousin in a green glow. As it
flickers out his cousin becomes harder to see as the night’s dark surrounds him only
to flicker back on, revealing him once again. Tony swallows hard and thinks to
himself that maybe he should not have entered into the family’s business.
“What’s going on, you daydreaming on me”? Jimmie asks snapping his
fingers twice to get Tony’s attention. “Pay attention here and take notes on what
Antony is doing, you might have to do it yerself one day.” He grabs another oyster
cracks it open and throws it down his throat.
Antony stops to rest his aching fists as Tony strains to listen to the sounds of
the music coming through the wall from the nightclub on the other side of it,
wishing he were in there instead of out here.
Jimmie steps forward and Tony, with bucket, follows.
“Sylvester I told you this would happen if you didn’t pay me my money, didn’t
I”? Jimmie waits for a response and continues when one doesn’t come, “I
understand if under the circumstances you don’t answer me but Antony here, he
don’t like it when his uncle is disrespected. Do ya Antony?”
Following the cue Antony kicks Sylvester in the mid-section hard.
“Now from what I hear this club of yours is raking in the dough ever since I
helped get you started. And from what I can see by the length of that line outside,
those rumors are true. So I got one thing to ask ya, Sly. Where is my money!?”
Antony resumes his responsibilities when Tony looks back up to the entrance
to the alley hoping that a cop will pass by and Bruno will tell them that they have to
stop this and get going.
The green neon flickers out again engulfing Bruno in shadow when the
telltale sound of Jimmie’s ringed fingers banging around the bottom of the bucket
searching for an oyster reminds him he has not been paying attention to his own
duties. Just as he is about to go and replenish the bucket he hears a muffled sound
towards the entrance of the alley that escapes Jimmie’s ears. Snapping his head in
that direction he looks for his cousin who at the moment is hid by the darkness. But
as the neon flickers back to life Tony sees that the entrance to the alley is empty,
Bruno is nowhere to be found.
Some sort of object flies by Tony’s cheek in a blur. The rotating object strikes
Antony in the back of the skull with a deep thud and knocks him face down into a
pile of garbage bags. Tony watches in awe as the object flies back over his head
returning to the direction it came from. He follows it and watches it get snatched
out of the air by a gloved hand. Jimmie almost chokes on an oyster as he sees
Antony drop, he then turns around to see a sight he was hoping never to have to see.
Replacing the batarang back into the depths of his cape Batman silently
lurks in the shadows of the alley, Tony and Jimmie can barely make out his caped
frame as he appears to just blend with the darkness like some inhuman nightmare
come to life. Batman slowly steps forward slightly unraveling his shape from the
dark, his eyes, the only part of his figure that reflects the small amount of light
present in the alley, glow menacingly at Tony and Jimmie making his appearance
even more frightening. The bucket falls to the floor disturbing the awkward silence.
Batman walks completely out of the shadow and into the sporadic glow of the green
neon. Being held by the back of the suit collar, Tony can see now what has come of
Bruno, obviously out cold or worse his cousin’s limp body is dragged out of the
shadow by Batman and brusquely dropped in front of Batman’s feet.
“Simpson Securities. Tell me what you know.”
Jimmie clears his throat in an effort to try and regain some composure, “I
don’t know what you’re talking about,” he responds as Tony stands off to the side
doing a great impersonation of a deer caught in headlights.
“Don’t make me ask you a second time,” declares Batman.
 Jimmie snaps his fingers a few times and blurts out, “Simpson Securities, I
uh, I think we have one of their safes back at the office, don’t we Tony?”
In a blink of an eye Batman charges from his position over to Jimmie
grabbing handfuls of his shirt and slamming him up against the brick wall.
Jimmie, putting his hands up into the air in submission quickly barks out,
“Okay, okay. Yeah, yeah Simpson yeah alright.”
Batman does not loosen his grip and continues to loom over Jimmie’s face
with a frightening contorted look multiplied many times over by the mask.
Behind Batman Antony slowly starts to get up out of the garbage. Jimmie
catches a glimpse of this out of the corner of his eye.
“Back in the day the old crew I used to roll with . . . .” Jimmie looks past
Batman to Tony, “Roll with, hey Tony, that’s the way you guys say it nowadays huh?”
Jimmie snaps his fingers, “These kids, I tell ya.
Batman’s strengthens his grip.
“Simpson used to do some business for the old crew,” Jimmie says quickly in
a strained voice caused by Batman’s firm grasp.
Antony now on his feet looks around to figure out what has happened and is
startled at seeing the newcomer to the alley, the reason he took a face first dive into
stinking garbage. Not one to have been thought of as the smartest guy on the
block, Antony searches the floor finds a metal pipe and takes it into both hands.
Meanwhile Batman’s jowls tighten and he moves in closer to Jimmie’s face.
“Okay, okay on certain occasions when we needed money or certain sensitive
materials transported, they having been an international business in all, they would
stow away our stuff in hidden compartments inside the safes. The safes would then
be moved to their destinations for later extraction of the hidden items, plain and
simple.”
Batman lifts Jimmie off the floor.
“They would also supply us secret access codes to some of their vaults that
even the customer who bought the things didn’t know about. We would periodically
go in and take out small amounts of money from several different vaults at a time.”
Trying to stall so Antony can get into position Jimmie continues on.
“They were an honest enough company providing a good product. They had
the smarts enough to know a fruitful partnership when they saw one though. If ya
know what I mean.”
Antony slowly moves in behind Batman. He lifts the pipe over his head and
brings it down hard and fast. At the last second Batman turns, moving Jimmie right
under the swinging pipe. Batman allows Jimmie’s unconscious body fall to the floor,
in one smooth motion he then grabs the pipe still gripped tightly in Antony’s hand
and pulls it towards himself, bringing Antony along for the ride. He then shoves it
back up striking Antony across the cheek and forehead. Antony lands on the floor
right next to Jimmie and the silver bucket. Batman drops the metal pipe on
Antony’s chest then walks over and checks on Sylvester.
Without turning around he says, “Tony”, Tony flinches at the sound of his
name, “make sure this man gets medical attention.”
Batman rises and walks right by him, a shiver runs down Tony’s spine as he
passes. Batman stops and slightly turns his head back.
“Tell Jimmie that this man’s debt is paid in full.”
 A groan escapes Sylvester’s mouth as he awkwardly tries to get on his feet.
Tony goes over to help him, stepping over the unconscious bodies of his cousin and
uncle. He realizes how fortunate he is that he is not laying on the concrete next to
them. Assisting Sylvester up to his feet Tony turns back around to say thank you but
finds that Batman has left as silently as he came.
After helping Sylvester to a bus stop bench across the street, he makes the
call for an ambulance on his cell phone. He wonders what his uncle and cousins will
think when they finally come to and find him not there. Maybe he will tell them that
Batman kidnapped him and eventually let him go. They’d believe that. He didn’t
have the time to worry about that right now anyway. He had more pressing matters
to take care of at the moment, and at the very top of his list was going home and
getting himself a clean pair of underpants.

*******

Seated in his high backed chair in front of the large video screen Batman sits
in silence, deep in thought. The echoes of the bats above and beyond in concert
with the low hum of all the equipment in the batcave sets the mood perfectly for
Batman to further evaluate his current mystery. On the screen is an enlarged digital
scan of the burnt piece of paper.
His memory quickly evaluates the encounter with Jimmie Moretti in the alley,
he recalls the way Jimmie’s eyes lit up with just a hint of alarm upon hearing a
question put to him about Simpson Securities. His reaction to the name lasted only
for a fraction of a second; Jimmie did well in hiding his response. But he told more
in that fraction of a second than he did with all his combined words. Not too many
people would have caught his slight error but it was easily detected by Batman.
Jimmie knew more than what he was saying. Batman quickly makes a
mental note to take a trip down to Jimmie’s office and see what else Jimmie is
trying to hide.
Off to the side, the ticket given to him by Mandy Stone catches his eye. No
doubt put there ever so conspicuously by Alfred. He picks it up and considers the
possibilities of attending the show for a moment. There is no doubting that Mandy
is a very attractive woman and it was also true what Alfred told him in the car that
afternoon, he had not been out to enjoy himself as Bruce Wayne in quite awhile.
His gloved hands move over the keyboard in front of him swiftly, the image of
the paper minimizes and moves down to the bottom left of the large screen.
Several new windows appear showing status on police bulletins and alarms
normally setup to alert Batman of any high profile inmate jailbreaks at Arkahm and
local prisons. Everything looks quiet at Arkahm and the prisons, the police bulletins
don’t show anything that needs his special attention, there is nothing too hard that
the Gotham police could not handle on their own. Besides he thinks to himself,
Gordon did not forget how to use the bat signal. If Gordon needed him he would
call.
Now that he did not have an excuse for not being able to attend the show
and see Mandy, all that was left was to deal with the fact that the beauty on the
outside of the attractive actress did not match what was present on the inside. He
had been on dates with some pretty conceited woman but Mandy Stone took the
prize. His fingers dance around the keyboard once again and the entire screen
blanks out and is replaced by Mandy Stone’s official website. He is reminded of
Alfred’s words and the way they were so bluntly put to him about how what the
world saw of Mandy Stone could be nothing more than an image, a façade, a way to
keep the camera’s flashing and her name on people’s lips.
With that thought it hits him. He sits up straight and brings the image of the
burnt paper back onto the screen. Punching some keys he gets up from the chair
and walks over to where the paper sits next to a microscope. He takes it in his hand
and brings it over to another machine. He places it inside then walks back to the
controls in front of the screen and enters the commands to start the procedure.
Alfred comes down the stairs wearing a smoking jacket and yawning
profusely.
Seated back in the chair and watching the progress bar on the video screen
Batman without turning around asks, “How was your card game? Did you win?”
“As a matter of fact we did, and quite a rout it was I might add,” he says
proceeded by another yawn.
Knowing Master Bruce as well as he does Alfred can detect his anticipation
even through the mask. Curiously, Alfred looks up at the screen, being well versed
with the various lab and test equipment in the batcave, he can easily determine that
Master Bruce is running a spectroscopic analysis of the small piece of paper he
found the other night, in order to ascertain the material makeup of the item.
“Anything new learned about this curious business that has you so
engaged?”
“I went to speak with an ex-member of an extinct crime family that was
pretty big some years back. Doing research on Simpson Securities I found that their
association with this criminal organization was a large part in the company’s
downfall. Simpson Securities of course denied any dealings with the organization
but rumors and many news articles kept the alleged partnership in the forefront of
many of their more legitimate customers. That among other things finally caused
the company to die away. Certainly the many unexplained break-ins of many of
their top security vaults probably didn’t help matters.”
Alfred interrupts, “It seems you have spent your time researching this
security company. Maybe it is the crime family that is more deserving of your
scrutiny?”
“I’ve not counted that out, in fact I believe whatever I am going to discover
has a lot to do with what went down between this crime family and the safe
company. I’m just being thorough and making sure I don’t miss anything along the
way.”
“As always, Master Bruce, just like to do my small part to try and keep you on
your toes.”
“As always, I am very appreciative of that. In fact something you told me this
morning has lead me to not look at what the paper might signify but what the inside
of the paper, the makeup of the paper might lead to. Normally this would have
been one of the first steps I would have taken, but I must admit the way I was lead
to this uncertain dilemma has taken up most of my attention.” Alfred begins to
open his mouth but Batman quickly injects, “And yes Mandy Stone’s appearance
this morning has been on my mind. And no I have not made up my mind about
going to her show, but first things first.”
A low tone goes of signaling the end of the test.
Batman quickly looks over the results of the test that are displayed on the
large screen.
“Daphne”, exclaims Batman quizzically.
“Daphne?” asks Alfred.
“Yes, this says the paper is made primarily from the Daphne shrub. It is an
ingredient not normally used here in the West. It is often referred to as the ‘Nepal
paper plant’. It dates back to the 11th century where the Nepalese used the bark of
the Daphne shrub to make Lama Paper. It’s a handmade paper that can last for
two to three hundred years.”
Always amazed at Master Bruce’s vast knowledge, Alfred adds, “So it is an
odd material to use for ordinary paper, as this piece appears to be. I should think
that little tidbit of information can lead you to the place where this particular paper
was manufactured. I dare say not too many paper mill’s would use this type of
material.”
Using his backdoor feed into the Gotham City Library’s newspaper archives
Batman finds an old expose on the use of the Daphne shrub in one of Gotham’s
paper mills. The name of the mill is the Amherst Mill.
Further down the article gives the name of the owner and founder of the
paper mill, a Roland Amherst. He then finds an obituary dated several years later
informing on the death of Roland Amherst. It says he had divorced his wife a few
years before his death and had left behind a daughter. The names of his wife and
child were not given.
Alfred yawns again, the longest and hardest yet. He turns deciding to retire
for the night, leaving the rest of this mystery in Batman’s capable hands.
As he reaches the bottom of the stairs he asks over his shoulder, “Is there
anything I may get you before I turn in sir?”
After a few steps up the stairs and receiving no answer he turns around only
to find an empty chair. The rumble of the batmobile’s engine kicking over is the
sole response Alfred will receive tonight. The engine roars, the tires squeal, and
Alfred adds one final yawn before proceeding up to bed.

*******

A large black limo pulls over and stops in front of the door to a mid-sized
store, located in the low rent district. As the night has grown longer a chill wind has
come in from the north, the first signs of fall approaching, the cars hot exhaust exits
the rear of the car in large puffs of smoke. The street-side rear door opens and a
large black man with blue eyes steps out. After closing the door he stands up
straight making himself appear taller than his six foot nine inch frame suggests. He
buttons the jacket of his pricey Italian suit, all the while looking up and down the
street, when he is satisfied he walks around to the opposite side of the limo and
opens the door. Exiting the limo is his mirror image, his twin brother. He too
buttons up his matching suit while looking up the street as his brother looks down
the street. Even at this hour of the night the two large men are cautious of the
surroundings. A homeless man down the street picking through a garbage can
poses no logical threat but they keep an eye on him anyway. The second twin
extends his hand into the limo and helps out a woman wearing too many outer
garments than is needed for this kind of weather. Closing the door behind her they
walk her to the much neglected glass door to Jimmie’s Fast Cash Loans. The
absence of lights inside already tells her no one is in but she pulls at the door
regardless. The grime on the door and large glass window where the name of the
store is poorly displayed does not give her adequate visibility to look inside. She
futilely wipes at the glass to no avail. Cursing under her breath she reluctantly
heads back to the limo waits for her door to be opened and gets in. A few moments
later the limo rolls down the street disappearing around the corner.
He watches the limo turn the corner and disappear. He doesn’t know what to
make of the scene that just took place six stories below. Batman recognized the
bodyguard’s, they would stick out like a sore thumb anywhere. Even with his
binoculars though, he could not make out the heavily clothed woman. The last time
he saw the twin behemoths they were a part of Mandy Stone’s entourage. The
woman trying so hard to keep her identity unknown was too short to be her. Maybe
the two bodyguards while in town, decided to make an extra buck on the side on
one of Mandy’s off, “stay in nights”. If she ever has one of those, he thinks to
himself.
Doubting that what just transpired has anything to do with this current
mystery Batman decides to leave it be and continue with what has brought him out
here. He is about to reach into his cape to retrieve his grappling hook when his
senses go off. He brings his foot back down from the roof’s ledge and puts his hand
around a batarang instead. Feigning ignorance of the others presence he stays still
and waits for it to make the first move. After a few quiet moments the feeling of
being alone comes back. He stops and wonders curiously if his lack of sleep has
put him on edge and a shifting of the wind had caused a false alarm in his senses.
After swinging over and landing on top of Jimmies office Batman walks over
to the skylight and notices it has been blacked out with paint. It is obviously an
indication of the illicit business practices that are held inside. The rear of the
building gains Batman entrance via a second story window that was left unlocked.
He finds himself inside a small room with a worn out desk and some dusty boxes
lined up against each wall. Opening the door he comes out onto a second floor
balcony overlooking the waiting room and receptionist desk below. Behind the desk
and to the right is a door, no doubt the door to Jimmie’s office.
He makes his way down the stairs and across the room to Jimmie’s office,
door easily picking the lock, he enters. The faint smell of seafood invades Batman’s
nose. Beyond the door is a small hallway. Directly ahead the hallway ends at a
mirror and turns toward the left. Batman surmises that the mirror is actually a one-
way window where one of Jimmie’s thug’s can sit with a semi-automatic trained on
whoever walks through the door.
Turning left at the mirror the hallway opens up to Jimmie’s office, which is a
sight to behold. To come from the unkempt waiting area filled with worn second-
hand furniture and then to walk into an office with plush carpeting, luxurious
furniture, and valuable pieces of art comes as a surprise. Batman quickly assesses
the room. To his right are two tall plants placed in front of a hidden door made to
look like the wall, most likely the door that leads to the area behind the mirror. To
the right of Jimmie’s massive desk lies a fully stocked mini bar located up against a
small wall that protrudes out toward the middle of the room. Batman searches the
desk but finds nothing of interest. Behind the wall where the bar area sits he finds
an arched walkway leading to a lounge were a large three-sided sectional sofa sits
in front of a large LCD screen.
Walking into the lounge the smell of seafood is more pervasive, he comes
across a door leading to a small kitchen and another arched walkway leading to an
ascending staircase. Right above the couch and coffee table is the blacked out
skylight and looking out over the lounge is a room with a long tinted window. He
begins to head for the staircase to get to the room above and notices the many
pictures set upon the long wall that leads to the stairs. Quickly searching them his
eyes stop on a picture of a skinny younger Jimmie posing with a bunch of other
menacing looking thugs. They are leaning up against a brick wall and on the wall
Batman can make out the letters I L L the beginnings of the word are out of
frame. He continues to look at the other pictures, which were taken more recently
and seem to be of his family.
The phone on the coffee table rings. Batman continues to make his way
down the long wall to the staircase while still viewing the pictures. An answering
machine turns on and Jimmie’s weak voice comes over the speaker.
“Tony you there? Tony? Where are ya kid? Pick up the phone. They want to
keep me here over night and that dumb broad nurse of mine says they don’t have
any oysters on the hospital menu. Get over here boy. Gotham General as fast as
you can.” With that the phone call ends.
Batman clearly heard the trepidation and meekness in Jimmie’s voice, quite
a difference in the composure he had back in the alley. A small yet brief grin creeps
onto one side of Batman’s mouth.
He turns to his left and heads up the stairs to the upper room, his cape gently
flowing behind him. Upstairs he finds a large bedroom with a king sized bed in the
middle of the room facing the lengthy window overlooking the lounge below. Off in
the corner next to the window is a large lavish armchair, on the floor just in front of
it sits a box full of folders brimming with papers. He takes out a small flashlight
kneels over the box and begins to search through it. The box and folders are
covered with a layer of thick dust. Batman quickly looks around and cannot find a
spec of dust on any surface in the room. He soon finds that the dates on some of
the papers are from more than thirty years ago. One of the folders is labeled
Simpson Securities, he opens it up and finds what looks like legitimate transaction
receipts and inventory records recorded in a hand written ledger. ‘Roland Amherst’
is written over and over in the margins next to several large money transactions,
digging deeper into the box he finds a folder assigned to Roland Amherst. Inside is
a black and white picture of a tall lanky individual shaking hands with a man in a
dark suit surrounded by a whole host of thugs. Standing next to the tall man is a
short balding fat man looking on. A large red circle is drawn over the tall man’s
face. Who Batman can only determine is Roland Amherst’s face. The
accompanying papers show even larger money transactions with Roland Amherst, it
too written in by hand. The rest of the box contains some dossiers of known
mobsters and petty criminals from that era.
 Batman looks at the picture of the men shaking hands. None of the people
look familiar but the location where the picture was taken looks very similar to one
of the pictures down stairs, more than likely taken in front of the Amherst Mill.
Batman shuts off the flashlight and places the folders back into the box. In
the very next instant he finds himself flying head first into the long window.
Falling quickly to the lounge below amid a shower of broken glass, he tucks
his head into his chest and slams into the coffee table, shattering it into little
pieces. Upon impact he immediately goes into a roll and before he even comes up
onto his feet he has a batarang in his hand. Snapping his head back up towards the
upper room Batman catches only a glimpse of a large dark silhouette jumping out
of the window after him. Batman hurls the batarang at his target and is
instantaneously launched forward by a powerful kick to his back. Going over the
couch Batman hits the floor and does a sideways roll towards the wall, vanishing
into the shadow, hoping that the inky blackness of the gloom will give him some
time to collect his thoughts and formulate a plan of action against whoever his
adversaries may be.
Batman, despite being knocked around, wraps his cape around his body and
moves, smoothly and steadily within the shadows, away from his current position,
all the while keeping his eyes out for more attacks. He finally gets a good look at
his opponents.
Trying hard to pierce the obscurity of the shadow the two attackers soon
realize they have lost their prey to the darkness. The large twins, coordinated
perfectly, turn their heads in opposite directions, piercing blue eyes trying to search
the rest of the room for any sight of Batman. Smug grins are displayed on their
faces confident that they are the ones that are in control of the situation despite the
small detail of not knowing where the Batman has disappeared to.
Two small pellets fly out of the shadow and explode next to the twin’s head.
The small flashbangs disorientate the brothers causing them to clasp their hands to
their ears. Batman flies out of the shadows landing a flying kick to the side of one
of the twin’s head, he then twists his body in mid-air smashing his other boot into
the other twin’s face. He lands in a crouched position, throws his cape behind him,
and then quickly rises up delivering crossing blows to each twins lowered head. The
massive bulk of the men absorb the hits better than Batman would have liked.
Despite their temporary blindness Batman quickly decides to move out of range of
their massive arms, he flips into a back hand spring, but one of the twin’s immense
hands amazingly enough, is able to grab the end of Batman’s cape just as Batman’s
hands hit the floor. The man pulls the cape towards himself and his twin, stopping
Batman’s backward momentum. Batman slams face down into the floor just in
front of the twins. The second twin brings his large shoe off the ground and stomps
the floor just barely missing Batman who successfully rolls out of the way.
By now the ringing in the twin’s ears and the splotches of light in their vision
have already started to dissipate. Batman already back on his feet notices this. He
decides to stand his ground and wait for the twins to make the next move.
Twin number One easily lifts up a section of the large couch and flings it at
Batman, who easily evades the clumsy attempt, but then has to quickly evade a
right cross from twin number Two who used the couch as a diversion to get in closer.
Batman ducks under the incoming fist and follows with a spinning round house kick
of his own that lands squarely on Two’s left jaw. On instinct Batman goes to the
floor with a leg swipe aimed behind him which catches One’s leg causing him to go
a bit off balance giving Batman time to move out of the bad position the twins
almost caught him in. Batman can not comprehend such speed coming from men
so large. Their smug grins still evident on their faces, their startling blue eyes seem
to glow in the darkness.
After gaining a better position Batman moves towards the twins with a flurry
of kicks and punches easily engaging both men at the same time. While a few
attacks get beyond the twin’s expert blocks the ones that land seem to not have any
effect at all. His lightning fast offensive manages to keep the twins at bay. While
they block the ferocious attacks from Batman they themselves can not respond with
any of their own.
As Batman continues his offensive he observes their unique fighting style,
probing their defenses for weaknesses. Throwing punches and launching kicks that
he knows will not land in order to find the right spot to launch his next attack, only
to have the other twin respond with their own defensive move that protects the
other brother from their momentary lapse in defense. While Batman studies the
twins he begins to put together the pattern that has presented itself before him.
The twins do not act independently from each other; their movements actually seem
to be choreographed with one another. Each of their movements are precisely
planned to enhance the others attacks, it is done in so fine a manner that to
Batman it seems that more than just years of practice has produced such a
technique. But rather it seems that a joining of thoughts and feelings is at the core
of the twin’s fighting style, for they seem to adapt and adapt quickly to new
situations in chorus, making up a very formidable if not impossible foe to overcome.
Batman’s excellent conditioning would allow him to keep up his offensive for
a lot longer but he decides that this course of action has taught him all he is going
to find out about the twins and the present struggle. While all the action is doing a
number on the lounge is not getting him any closer to a victory.
Subtlety allowing the tide of the fighting to switch in a more favorable way for
the twins, Batman, slowly begins to allow them to get their own swings in. Faking
the signs of exhaustion to them, Batman allows some of their blows to land. When
he is convinced that he has them fooled he allows one of them to get behind him.
Sensing their excitement and eagerness to end the fight with a victory he lures them
in hoping that their awareness drops. Unbeknownst to the twins Batman has
successfully anticipated their actions to know that when he makes a move he
knows exactly what move they will counter with.
A left comes flying at Batman who ducks under it and waits for the knee to
meet his downward momentum, when it makes contact he rolls up with it not
allowing it to enact its full potential. The twin behind Batman sees his opportunity
and initiates his own attack of two massive clenched fists in a downward swing.
Batman moves out of the way in a blast of energy that surprises the twins. He gets
behind the twin in front of him and uses the big man’s weight against him
successfully throwing him into the pathway of the oncoming fists. Already
committed, the attacking twin can not stop his momentum, and the full strength of
his fists collides with his brother.
 The hit clearly had more an effect than Batman had with any of his own.
Groggily the stricken twin straitens up and shoves his brother in anger then quickly
turns his head back towards Batman.
“Exactly what I wanted”, Batman says to himself.
One is mad at the other for the hit and the one who did the hitting is furious
at Batman for causing it.
Fighting with anger was always a mistake, all the skilled fighters who ended
up on the losing end of a battle with an inferior opponent because they fought while
angry could attest to that.
They resume their attack in a more rushed and clumsy manner. Batman
conserves energy now that he does not need to block any of their attacks, due to
their emotions getting the best of them. Batman is able to easily dodge their kicks
and swings with his arms hiding inside his cape in a seemingly relaxed posture.
This just helps to build upon the two men’s anger. A rush of air is felt by Batman
every time an arm or leg goes by, showing him how much force the twin’s are now
putting behind their swings. And when each and every attempt to do bodily harm to
Batman fails the anger inside of them grows ever stronger. If indeed these twins
have some sort of telepathic link between them it is doing no good for them now.
They have relied so long on their complimentary fighting style that when their
communication is interrupted as it is currently, their fighting prowess is greatly
reduced, turning them into two well muscled above average fighters. Batman
moves in between them and kicks forward, straight into the gut of one twin and with
a backward thrust dives the same boot into the gut of the twin behind him. He
quickly follows up those stunning blows that have some effect on the twins now that
they have expended so much energy, with a flashbang thrown at the floor.
Having had just about enough than they can handle the twins balance
themselves from the feeling of the room spinning around them and reach out
blindly in front of them grabbing hold of the first thing their hands land on. When
they realize they have a grip on one another they pause for a split second. Which is
a split second too long, for Batman takes the opportunity and grabs in each hand
one of their corn rows and forces their heads straight into the wall. One of the twins
falls to his knees the other down to the floor, quivering in an effort to pick up their
large bodies.
Standing amid the broken furniture and shards of glass Batman looks on at
the two defeated foes still trying desperately to get up. As soon as he begins to
relax, the feeling Batman had up on the roof of another presence, returns. He
readies himself but it’s too late. The only thing Batman can do is suffer the sharp
pain that accompanies the blow to the back of his neck and succumb to the
darkness that quickly overcomes him.

*******

“Bruce!”
“Bruce!” comes his name again from somewhere just beyond reach. Either
from his distant memory or spoken from the next room, he cannot tell. Is it his own
voice he hears? Alfred’s? Or maybe……..
 “Bruce.”
Spoken with love and strength the sound of his name gives him a feeling of
such security and warmth. He cannot remember the last time he felt this way.
Alfred had always been so good to him, better than most parents are to their
children, but this was different.
“Bruce.” the name comes to him as if carried by the wind, this time said by
two different voices. His name stays with him long after it is spoken, slowly and
softly trailing away from him. He tries hard to keep it with him to somehow grasp it
and hold onto it forever.
“Father………Mother!”
The realization of his beloved parents calling to him strikes to the core of his
being.
“Father!” The sound of his own voice releases him from his semi
unconscious state. He cannot open his eyes fully, the brightness in the room
prevents him from doing so. Shielding his eyes with his arms he quickly gets to his
knees and finds himself in the middle of a raging fire which is currently consuming
Jimmie’s lounge.
The smoke quickly penetrates his lungs. Even in such circumstances
Batman looks for the safety and well being of others, even of those who might not
be deserving of it. Looking over for the twins he finds that they are already gone.
From the corner of his eye he catches a glimpse of something, looking over he sees
his utility belt lying off to the side overwhelmed by fire. He then becomes aware of
the condition that he is in. His cape is torn and ripped off and pieces of his suit are
cut away exposing skin. The cowl while damaged still remains pretty much intact.
His sore side tells him that they did not limit their abuse to just his suit, his ribs
while not broken, feel like they received a few good kicks while he was down and
out.
Weakened by the consuming flames a section of the upstairs bedroom floor
falls to the ground getting Batman up off his knees and looking around for a way
out. His first instinct is too leave by way of the above skylight. But his belt and
equipment are currently turning to ash a few feet away. A large section of the fire
blocks the way back towards Jimmie’s office so Batman scrambles over the pieces
of fallen floor and makes it into the kitchen. He charges to the back of the kitchen
kicking open the door. Stumbling into the trash cans on the other side of the alley
he braces his body up against the alley wall and thankfully breathes in the fresh
cold air.
In the distance he can hear sirens fast approaching. Dawn is not far off
either. The Batmobile is parked only few blocks away and so Batman walks in that
direction away from the burning building, disappearing into the night.

*******

Alfred Pennyworth walks into Master Bruce’s bedroom with breakfast

masterfully laid out on the customary silver tray. Breakfast which consists of a
sliced grapefruit, poached egg with toast, a small glass of orange juice, coffee and
the morning paper is placed on the nightstand beside the enormous bed. Alfred
finds Master Bruce already up out of bed wearing silk pajamas and standing by one
of the many floor to ceiling windows in the room. Bruce looks out upon the lush
garden below as he inattentively talks on the phone. The sun barely an hour old
breaks through the clouds spraying the room with a warm glow.
“Yes, two dozen Cala lilies. . . . . yes I understand, I have every confidence
that your flowers are the freshest and most exquisite in Gotham, I just would like to
examine them before they are delivered. . . . .of course . . . . .I will pay four times the
price. That will be fine, thank you”.
Bruce ends the call and walks back towards the bed and places the phone on
the stand.
“Good morning, Alfred”.
“Good morning, Master Bruce”.
Bruce looks over at the other side of the bed and takes in the fine breakfast
that Alfred has prepared.
“Looks delicious, Alfred, thank you”.
“Should I be expecting a delivery this morning?” Alfred asks curiously with a
smile upon his face.
Bruce begins to walk over to the breakfast tray and quickly puts Alfred’s
wandering thoughts to rest, “It’s not what you think so don’t get excited”.
“Ah, but it may well be exactly what I am thinking”, says Alfred in a jovial
manner, noticing the slight grimace of pain on Master Bruce’s face as he walks
around the bed.
“And what are you thinking”? Bruce asks as he takes a bite out of a piece of
toast.
“Well sir, you are not the only skilled detective in this room”.
Bruce lies down on the bed, grabs the paper and unfolds it. “Go on”, he says
as he looks over the headlines trying hard not to smile.
Alfred, after receiving his cue continues, “As chance would have it I noticed
that last night you had visited Mandy Stone’s official website. On said website Miss
Stone’s most intimate and personal details are listed for the world to discover. One
such detail listed is Miss Stone’s favorite bouquet . . . .” Alfred twists his hand
around flaringly waits dramatically then says “. . . .Cala lilies.”
A smile finally creeps onto Bruce’s face as he opens the paper and continues
to look on.
“Further more, since tonight is the opening night of her show you have taken
the occasion to purchase her favorite flowers and I deduce that a note will be
attached informing the young lady that you plan to attend the show.” Alfred ends
with a minor bow and waits for conformation.
Bruce puts down the paper and takes the breakfast tray into his lap. “Very
good Alfred, but tell me this. Why am I having the flowers delivered here first”?
Alfred begins to open his mouth to say something then stops, he thinks on it
begins to open his mouth again but quickly closes it. Feeling a little defeated, “Yes
that is quite odd isn’t it”? he says under his breath.
“Yes, quite. But surely a detective such as yourself can figure that one out”,
adds Bruce before taking a drink of the orange juice.
They share a laugh before Alfred excuses himself in order to finish his
morning duties and to allow Master Bruce to finish his breakfast in peace.
 *******

A few short hours later the echoing chime of the doorbell fills the air. Alfred
promptly receives the delivery man bearing the box of Cala lilies bidding him to
enter and wait at the bottom of the massive staircase in the foyer. The delivery man
looks around taking in the interior of the massive home. Moments later Bruce
walks into the foyer from the direction of the study with Alfred in tow. The delivery
man smiles brightly and meets Bruce halfway while opening the box of flowers.
“Thanks for doing this I know it is a strange request and an inconvenience to
you, I really do appreciate it” Bruce says as he takes his hand out of his suit pocket
and hands the delivery man a very large tip. Bruce inspects the flowers then says,
“Ah yes these should do perfectly. Don’t you think Alfred?”
Alfred looks over Master Bruce’s shoulder and replies, “A fine gathering sir”.
Bruce straightens up from smelling the flowers, thanks the delivery man one
final time, and watches as Alfred shows the man to the door.
“I must say sir I can’t quite imagine what bit of business that was all about”,
Alfred states confusingly.
Bruce turns and walks back into the study turning around to make sure
Alfred is following. Walking over to the section of weathered texts on ancient Rome
and Greece, Bruce slides his hand underneath the shelf activating a heat sensitive
switch which in turn activates the mechanism that separates the aforementioned
books out to the right and left respectively revealing a wall of ten inch LCD monitors
that moves into the place where the books just occupied.
When the wall of monitors reaches its home position all of the screens
simultaneously turn on showing various areas in and around the manor. He points
over to the main gate camera’s view showing the flower delivery van pulling away.
Located beside the monitors is a user interface pad, Bruce quickly enters in a
few numbers then presses a switch.
“Nah, you should’a seen the inside of da house, blew me away,” says a voice
that is heard clearly out of the speakers located on the outer edges of the monitors.
“So how was he,”? another voice coming over the speakers asks.
“Ah ya know, yer typical rich dude, I wasn’t in da house that long now, what
did ya want me to do, have an interview with em”?
“Shut up wise guy alls I’m askin is did he gave us a big tip or not”?
There is a slight pause before the other answers, “Uh nah, he slipped me ten
bucks,” another pause, “go figure huh”?
Alfred and Bruce share a look.
“Stingy rich snob”, the other voice states angrily.
Bruce depresses the switch and the audio from the delivery van stops.
With more than a little confusion set upon his face Alfred looks at the floor
trying to work things out, “You had the flowers sent here in order to place a listening
device among them”, he states. Alfred quickly looks up at Bruce, “When could you
have accomplished that without either the delivery man or I noticing”?
“When I asked your opinion about the flowers”, states Master Bruce quickly.
“Ah, yes of course, well done sir”.
“Thank you Alfred”.
 “I must ask though I haven’t the foggiest as to why you would do such a thing
in the first place”?
Bruce walks over to the bulky desk, his limp noticeably better but still
present. He sits down and begins, “You noticed Mandy Stone’s entourage from the
other day”? Alfred nods. “Last night I went to Jimmie Moretti’s office and was met
there by Mandy’s two big body guards”.
“I will assume that it was not a friendly encounter . . . . . hence the limp”.
Alfred motions to Bruce’s leg.
Bruce continues, “They arrived there with a person I could not make out. I
did not have a good vantage point but now as I think about it it could very well have
been Mandy’s red headed publicist”.
“Odd that they would have even been at that location in the first place,” adds
Alfred.
“I am starting to believe odd doesn’t even come close to describing the last
few days events”, states Bruce.
“So the device hidden in the bouquet should shed some light on why Miss
Stone’s manager, if in fact it indeed was her, was calling on such a slimy scoundrel
as Jimmie Moretti”, concludes Alfred.
Bruce gets up from the desk chair, “That’s the plan, Alfred”, he moves past
his loyal friend and adds, “If you would not mind being my ears on this, I am off to
work out these sore muscles”. Bruce leaves the room before Alfred has time to
answer knowing that the task will be left in very capable hands.
“Of course sir, as you wish sir”, says Alfred to the empty room happy to do
whatever part is necessary, even the tiniest part, if it will bring some measure of
relief to his young employer.

*******

A loud piercing scream of joy and excitement fills the luxurious hotel suite of
superstar Mandy Stone as she revels in her elation at the thought of her newly
arrived bouquet of flowers. The Gotham Park Towers has seen its share of strange
and eccentric guests, so even if Mandy’s carefree outburst was able to be heard
through the thick sound proof walls it would have been dismissed as normalcy.
Already set in an expensive crystal vase atop the beautiful credenza by the
front doors, Mandy picks up a single flower and almost skips back to the sitting
room, her silk robe swaying behind her and clinging to her shapely form, much to
the appreciation of the room service attendant who is currently overflowing the
glass with freshly squeezed orange juice. Fortunately he catches it in time before
he makes too much of a mess. Quickly realizing that he was staring he pulls his
tongue back inside his mouth, with his duties finished he reluctantly leaves the
room amidst the stern looks coming to him from the short red headed woman
sitting on the love seat.
Mandy throws herself onto the chaise lounge. In complete bliss she smiles
brightly to herself gently tickling her nose with the flower’s petal.
Jessica sits across the room from Mandy her arms stretched out across the
top of the love seat with her legs crossed in a masculine manner. Wearing her
customary women’s business suit that matches her fiery hair she quietly looks on at
Mandy with a pitiful look.
“Oh please,” she finally says.
Knocked out of her blissful thoughts, Mandy looks over at Jessica and
responds coldly, “You’re just jealous that the flowers are always for me”.
This causes Jessica to sit up and uncross her legs, it takes all she can gather
to stay calm and not burst back at her. Mandy already back into her idyllic thoughts
does not notice.
“You really must eat something. Tonight is our - - uh your big night”, Jessica
says as sweetly and calmly as she can.
“I know but I just can’t eat anything right now. You know how I get on
opening night with the butterflies and all,” says Mandy with a far off look in her
eyes.
“Yes I do, but it’s the middle of the afternoon right now and you’re going to
need all your strength.” Jessica gets up and walks over to the room service cart
picking up a piece of bacon and takes a bite. “I also know that you’ve got more
than tonight’s performance on your mind and you’re letting it get to you. I mean
look at yourself your acting like a school girl. You’ve had your flings here and there,
the hope for this current one shouldn’t be any different.”
“But this one is different.”
“Only because you’re making it that way.”
“No, Bruce Wayne is special,” Mandy gets up content with ending her
daydreams, “you can feel it when you’re next to him.”
“All I am saying is I believe I’ve heard all of this before, now eat, please.”
Mandy sits down at the chair that has been placed in front of the room
service cart and does exactly as Jessica asks. Just then the doors open up and the
Twins enter the suite.
Mandy looks over at them and asks, “Where’ve they been off to, haven’t seen
them since yesterday afternoon?” She pulls off the silver cover from the plate in
front of her and cuts off a piece of the cranberry waffles tasting a tiny piece to see if
it is edible. Satisfied that the kitchen followed her very specific food preparation
instructions she places the rest of the piece into her mouth.
“They told me they had to take care of a few things and I decided we
wouldn’t need them until tonight so I let them go,” she answers coolly.
Mandy stops chewing to look at Jessica harshly, “You decided. What ever
happened about my decisions? Did you think to ask me? Maybe I would’ve thought
it better that they stay and do their job and not go clubbing or whatever they were
doing last night!” She quickly looks over at them. “You know what whatever, you
hired them, you thought it was so important to have them, so whatever, do what you
want with them, I don’t care.” Mandy goes back to her breakfast but quickly drops
her fork into the plate and gets up. “You know Jessica you’re a lot of things to me
but you’re not everything”.
Jessica follows Mandy to the window, Mandy looks down at Robinson Park
and Jessica walks up behind her and starts to gently rub her arms. “Mandy I am a
lot of things to you and I know I’m not everything but above all those things that I
am for you, I am and will always be your sister.”
“Half sister,” responds Mandy under her breath.
 Jessica hears what Mandy said but dismisses it and continues, “Because I
am your sister I only want the best for you. Who else but your family could take
better care of you and make decisions for you that if you had to handle on your own
would only end up causing you added stress?”
“You’re right, I’m sorry. But what if I had decided to go out last night? You
already fired my usual bodyguards. Would I have been forced to sit around this
place like some sort of pet? Not able to go out because I didn’t have any
protection? I . .”
Jessica cuts in before Mandy can get any more upset, “I would have made
other arrangements, that’s all. You know I take very good care of you. Nothing bad
can happen to you unless I allow it.”
Jessica laughs lightheartedly at her last comment trying to ease the mood
but Mandy looks back over her shoulder through squinted eyes not knowing how to
receive the remark.
“Besides after tonight things will be different, I promise,” she leaves Mandy
by the window and quickly says back over her shoulder, “You should go on and get
dressed, the food will keep.”
She walks back up to the front where the Twins wait but pauses to hear the
French doors to Mandy’s bedroom close first before speaking.
“What happened last night? I - -“
One holds out his hand interrupting her, “You never mentioned that she was
your half sister?” he says in his smooth deep voice, likewise keeping his voice down
to a whisper.
There is more than a hint of disgust and unfamiliarity behind his words. To
share his brother’s thoughts and inner most guarded feelings as freely as two
people in a room breathing the same air, to practically live as one person with his
twin, is the only way either of them has known, to be anything less than that seems
almost unnatural to the brothers.
Taken aback by the question Jessica promptly asks, “How did you even hear
that?”
“We have very good hearing”, replies Two.
Somewhat frightened by the peculiarity of the twins she swiftly asserts her
authority over the situation. “Now listen, I am the only family she has, that will not
even be a problem. I know what you’re thinking, but her being my half sister has no
bearing on this”.
One has more than a passing, appalled reaction to the newly obtained
relational discovery of Mandy and Jessica. His overcoming concern with the news is
the fact that Jimmie, the reason why he and his brother were involved in the first
place, should have been aware of this from the beginning. Whether Jessica only
being a half sister to Mandy would have made a difference to Jimmie, he did not
know, One only knew it was better to have all the pertinent information out on the
table, especially when dealing with someone like Jimmie Morretti.
Two mentally acknowledges his brother’s concern and eases his twin’s mind
by reminding him that Jimmie Morretti was just another client, a means to an end.
That end being their paycheck, the only reason why the twin’s did what they did
anyways. They served no other master except it.
 Money was the twin’s driving force behind all their dealings. It did not matter
whether their pay off came from a legitimate source while doing a legitimate job or
if they had to delve into criminal deeds to attain it. As long as the money came in
everything was right as far as they were concerned.
As for Jimmie Moretti, his stake in this matter was his and his alone he did
not need them watching his back. The Twins were not being paid to do that.
“My brother is concerned that Mr. Morretti might have wanted to know that
Miss Stone’s sister did not share the same exact parents,” says Two. “Mr. Moretti
might be a small time player but if he is wronged he can potentially be a dangerous
enemy. As you more than well know, since it was you that sought him out in the
first place.”
Each day that passed Jessica saw more and more that the Twin’s did not play
the part that they so well fit as far as looks were concerned, while the Twin’s from
afar appeared only to be hired muscle with pea-sized brains, that as she was finding
out was not the case. Smart, educated and calculating were just some of the
characteristics that she had been starting to notice the more time spent with these
two unique people.
As far as their concerns though she thought them to be misplaced, her being
only someone’s half sister was not such a big deal to the rest of society as it
seemed it was to the two brothers who appeared to share a bond that surpassed
normal sibling relationships.
“Well isn’t that sweet. But I would be more concerned with what Jimmie is
going to think when he finds out what has happened to his office. It was all over the
news this morning. What happened?” her voice slightly rising above a whisper.
One looks towards the direction of Mandy’s room wondering if it is wise to
have this conversation here, “Batman happened”.
Jessica’s hearts skips a beat. Without knowing she finds herself backing up,
her mouth open in a silent gasp.
Just then the door’s to Mandy’s bedroom opens and she strolls out grabs a
fashion magazine from the room service cart and disappears around a corner
heading for the sitting room.
Jessica leads the large men outside into the hall.
“Batman is an inevitability. I mean this is Gotham after all. He’s bound to
show up sometime someplace right?
Whatever response she was looking for to make herself feel better they did
not provide it.
“He must have been there for something Jimmie’s involved in, something
separate from what he’s got going on with us”?
“That is unclear,” replies One.
“We did not engage him in conversation,” adds Two.
“Well whatever brought him there is not something we need to worry about,
the wheels have already started to turn and there is no turning back now.”

*******

The feel of the cool water all over his tired body gives him an invigorating
blast of energy and soothing relaxation all at the same time. Having just finished
some basic exercises to work out some soreness in this muscles Bruce is now doing
laps in the indoor Olympic sized pool.
The pool deck is elegantly constructed with tiles imported from Italy. The
three sides of the room that extend out away from the manor are made up of huge
sections of beveled ornate glass the same material which makes up the ceiling
situated thirty feet above. At one end of the pool a waterfall that starts at the
ceiling empties into a separate thin pool of water that runs the length of the three
glass walls where tropical freshwater fish of all shapes color and sizes swim happily
inside, that same stream of water runs to the gardens outside that surround the
pool room, the stream snakes itself in and around the garden leading to a large
pond of water at its center.
Just off to the side of the pool opposite the two oversized whirlpools is a
small workout area filled with various weights and workout machines with mats, a
wooden dummy and racks containing several different martial arts weaponry. This
small workout area supplements the much larger and more secretive one located in
another part of the manor.
Bruce completes his last lap and exits the pool grabbing a towel laying on a
lounge chair. He begins to dry off when a sharp tone is heard throughout the large
room just barely audible above the sound of the waterfall. Walking past the fitness
equipment he goes up to the intercom panel next to the double doors and presses
the talk button.
“Yes, what is it Alfred”?
“I believe you may want to come to the study, sir.”
After a quick shower Bruce joins Alfred in the study. Leaning up against a
rolling ladder, wearing a tan t-shirt and loose blue jeans, he listens intently to all
Alfred has to say. With great detail Alfred goes over what he was able to overhear
via the hidden listening device in Mandy’s flowers.
Alfred relays all the information to Master Bruce without adding any of his
own theories or opinions. Whether any of this seemingly fresh information has
given Master Bruce any new insight Alfred can not tell, Bruce only looks on, grim-
faced towards the floor.
Upon reaching the end of Alfred’s report, Bruce gets up without a word and
leaves the room, undoubtedly headed for the Batcave.

*******

Bruce looks over the news clippings on Simpson Securities and The Amherst
Mill displayed on the Batcomputer’s screen. Leaning forward with a furrowed brow,
his fists under his chin and elbows propped on the console before him, he lets his
mind wander in and around what he has learned so far.
The piece of paper was manufactured at the Amherst Mill. A Simpson
Securities logo was imprinted on the paper and it was found in a warehouse once
owned by the safe company. Unlawful activities took place between Simpson
Securities and a large crime family from that era. Documents found in the
possession of an ex member of that crime family revealed large money transactions
were made to Roland Amherst, founder and owner of the Amherst Mill. It all
seemed to work together like some circular cycle that kept revolving and moving
around each other. All of these things took place many years ago and did not
appear to lead to anything that concerned itself with the present. What did all this
have to do with the here and now? The security company, the owner of the mill,
and the crime family were all dead. Something had to connect with the living, with
an event or events taking place now. But what was it?
Mandy’s publicist’s and her bodyguard’s being at Moretti’s place where he
found the box containing information on these past events was something to
consider. But was considering these things past events a mistake? The box found
at Moretti’s office looked as if it was recently taken out from storage. The
encounter with the bodyguards really did not make any sense other than the fact
that they had some unknown arrangement with Moretti and were protecting that
pact by trying to eliminate Batman. Or was it just bad timing and two testosterone
filled behemoths looking to prove something? The conversation overheard by Alfred
seemed to prove otherwise but that was still uncertain to some degree.
Bruce’s wandering unfocused eyes unconsciously go by the all the writers
names listed for each article. He immediately refocuses his attention going back to
each article and double checking. They all matched. Every one of the articles was
written by the same reporter.
It seemed odd that a reporter would get so involved reporting and
investigating on the dealings with Simpson Securities and their possible mob ties,
write numerous articles on the subject, then write a puff piece on a paper mill and a
man that was involved with that same criminal organization, without the reporter, a
Hatfield Jones, finding out about it. It did not add up. Something was definitely
wrong with this picture.

*******

In a minimum security prison located on the outskirts of Gotham, a light

above a small sink shines off the smooth bald center of Yancy McClinton’s head. He
slaps some water into his face and takes a good long look at himself in the mirror.
What he sees does not impress him. Yancy tries in vain to comb over some longer
strands of hair across the large bald spot and after a time gives up and turns off the
light.
Booted footfalls from down the hallway pronounce the end of yet another day
of sufferable boredom and loneliness for Yancy, who looks out the thick cubed glass
just above his oversized garden tub and notices that the sun has just begun its
downward trek. No matter how many years he has been in here Yancy can not get
over the fact that most five year olds these days have a later bed time than him.
He looks around the cell and is at least thankful for the type of prison that he
was fortunate enough to do his time in. Right around the corner from his small sink
is his gold colored toilet seat that faces his queen sized bed just a few feet away.
The bed is dressed in a beautifully ornamented comforter that matches the design
of the rest of the room. At the foot of the bed lies a cherry finished upholstered
bedside bench and off in the corner is the garden tub surrounded by decorative
ceramic tile. While the glass by the tub is useful for determining between day and
night it is not a good source of light for the room.
 Yancy takes a deep somber breath and takes a seat on the bedside bench
and begins removing his shoes and socks. The guard finally makes it in front of his
cell, he looks in, quietly nods to Yancy and continues to the end of the hall. The hall
lights quickly go out and the cell doors slowly shut.
The shutting of the door starts the five minute time period before lights out is
enforced, so he gets up and hits the wall switch turning off the desk lamps on either
side of the bed darkening the room.
He moves around to the side of the bed closest to the wall and begins to
unbutton his shirt but stops midway.
That strange feeling of someone watching you is one that comes with the
territory when living in a prison. Because the fact of the matter is most of the time
someone actually is. Whether it be the guards keeping tabs on your every move or
the cell block neighbor across the hall who has made it his bizarre hobby to watch
you like a sick reality TV show. That feeling is one an inmate has to try and get used
to living with. Which is what Yancy has successfully done in the past and it is what
he tries to do now, he attempts to shrug the feeling away and finishes unbuttoning
his shirt.
Strangely enough though the feeling does not go away and suddenly the
small hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Yancy stares out the bars and can
see amidst the shadows in the cell across from him that Larry is settling into his
own bed not paying any attention to him at all.
He finishes undressing and gets into his prison sleep wear. The sun has now
dipped into the horizon, quickly making its exit from the sky, further deepening the
darkness in his cell.
Yancy’s eyes swiftly move to the corner on the other side of the his own cell
and cannot tell if the huge shape he believes he sees is his imagination or
something else. A cold shiver travels down his spine as he attempts to pierce the
darkness with his eyes endeavoring to make sense of what he is seeing. His fear
begins to grow steadily. He struggles not to think about it as being something other
than shadows because if he creates it in his head it might become something else,
something real, so he frantically suppresses any foreboding thought. Nevertheless
he still cannot seem to take his eyes away from the perceived dark shape in the
corner. Once again he desperately tries to convince his mind that there is only a
wall over there in the darkness and his eyes are creating images like the ones
children see when staring up at huge fluffy clouds.
Satisfying himself that his imagination is running rampant, he gently eases
into bed looking back one final time at the far corner before closing his eyes for the
night. He reassuringly reminds himself that he is in a prison cell locked away from
everything and everyone.
When the unmistakable sound of someone slowly and deeply exhaling
through the nose comes from that very corner, Yancy’s body instantly becomes rigid,
his eyes pop open wide staring out into the darkness. Staring right into the shadowy
face of the Dark Knight.
Moving in close, enveloped in his long cape, Batman comes within inches of
Yancy’s now sweating face.
“Do not cry out. I am not here for you. All I need are answers”, states
Batman unemotionally. “Quietly nod if you understand.”
 Yancy barely makes his head move in an up and down manner.
“Hatfield Jones, a former reporter for The Gotham Herald tells me you’re the
man to speak to”. Batman’s voice is barely above a whisper his face still inches
from Yancy’s.
Hatfield’s name registers in Yancy’s memory after a short time and Batman
sees the evidence of this displayed in his eyes.
Yancy bravely composes himself and even attempts to sit up a bit. Batman
straightens up allowing Yancy to put his back up against the headboard.
“Sp-Speak to? About what?” asks Yancy, weakly. The question is asked with
a sense of already knowing the answer.
“Roland Amherst,” states Batman.
Yancy lets out a long breath almost relieved and not surprised that someone
finally has gotten around to mentioning that man’s name after so many years.
Although looking a lot older much thinner and with less hair, Batman
recognizes Yancy from the black and white picture found in the upstairs room back
at Jimmie’s office.
Batman stays inside the depths of his cape and turns around putting his
back to Yancy granting him some space now that it seems the information might
come more easily than he had expected.
“I don’t know what exactly you want to know so I will just tell you the things I
do know,” Yancy pauses, receives no objection from Batman so he carries on.
“I was the Chief Financial Officer for Simpson Securities. Along with my
other responsibilities I helped run a money laundering scheme with our company
and a large crime family. As it always is with those who have power, the people I
worked for wanted more, so we eventually got into money counterfeiting, and that is
where Roland and his paper mill came in. Everything was going fine until the
reporter, Hatfield Jones, started snooping around discovering things that he
shouldn’t have. Around that same time Roland’s family life started to deteriorate
and he was taking it hard. Soon thereafter his wife left him. What made the
situation worse was that just weeks before she left, the doctor’s diagnosed him with
cancer. They were predicting that he would not be alive to see the end of the year.”
Yancy stops to look out the bars making sure his whispering is not drawing
any attention.
“Soon thereafter Roland came into my office and proposed an idea. He
wanted my help in double crossing both the company and the crime family. It was
not hard to convince me to go along with his idea considering all the press the
company was getting at that time. Big players in the crime family were already
under arrest and making deals, so I knew the end of the road was fast approaching
for most if not all of us. So he and I came up with a plan to make both of us rich
while leaving a way for the cops to easily get what they had been searching for. The
money trail I left was a great diversion for Roland and I. I placed all the blame on
the board members while conveniently leaving ourselves out of the picture. I don’t
know how he did it but early on before he even came to me, Roland was able to pay
off the reporter, leaving Roland’s involvement in the printing of the counterfeit bills
out of the papers. I believe he did this more so for his daughter’s sake than his.
Both of us were out of the country before the cops could serve the board members
their warrants.”
 Batman turns back to face Yancy noticing how remorseful he sounds as he
retells his story.
“Shortly after we arrived in Columbia, Roland had me set up an overseas
bank account for his daughter, or so I assumed as much, because I remember him
telling me he had no other family and well you know . . . . . the sand in his hourglass
was soon to be empty.”
“How much,” interjects Batman?
“Over six million dollars.”
“He specifically made me set it up where there would be no way that his wife
or any other member of her family could claim the money. Even though I assured
him that no one other than me and the bank could know that the account would
even exist.”
“You say you assumed it was for his daughter? You did all that work and he
did not give you a name that the account would be under,” Batman asks
suspiciously?
“Yes, he was adamant that I leave it open for him to assign the name
privately.” Trying to get across to Batman that he is being completely truthful,
Yancy’s voice raises a bit beyond a whisper drawing some attention in the form of
rustling sheets from the bed across the hall, which quickly garners Batman’s
awareness.
Yancy swallows hard mustering the will to ask his own question. “H-How is
it…I mean how did you find the reporter Hatfield? I thought he was under
protection. I thought the government was hiding him?”
“They are.” Batman leaves it at that.
Hatfield Jones was indeed in the witness protection program for his involvement in
the toppling of Simpson Securities and the crime family. There were undoubtedly
still some members of that family still out there that wanted to see Jones breathe
his last breath. Shortly after discovering that all the articles were written by the
same man, Bruce Wayne called in some big favors and was able to talk very briefly
with Hatfield Jones. The only thing he was able to say over the phone was that
Yancy McClinton was in a better position to answer questions surrounding Roland
Amherst than he was.
Letting Yancy think that no man could hide from the Batman was a feeling
that Batman didn’t mind Yancy believing in, even though it seemed like Yancy was
eager to get all this business with Roland Amherst off of his chest anyway.
Batman does have his limitations, although very few to speak of, but there
was no need to lessen the mystique others had of him, especially of ones that he
needed to get information from.
Information breeds knowledge. And knowledge is just as powerful a weapon
as the most honed and practiced fighting technique. Batman utilized that notion for
his advantage as well as anybody.
“Jimmie Morretti? Ever heard of him,” asks Batman quietly?
“Can’t say that I’ve ever heard that name….and if I have, the name never
stuck,” replies Yancy honestly.
In the cell across the hall Larry, the inmate occupying the cell, becomes
agitated by what seems like inane whisperings to oneself. Yancy not adept in
stealth and subtleness has inadvertently let his voice carry across the hall once
again. Larry exaggeratedly clears his throat in order to get his point across and tries
to settle back to sleep.
“Y-You know there is no way for me to get to that money. Especially from
inside here”, says Yancy uneasily.
Batman does not respond to the comment but moves around the cell. There
is a slight shift in Batman’s cape as he walks by the garden tub. Batman then stops
repositioning himself at the foot of Yancy’s bed. The whole time Yancy keeps his
eyes glued to Batman watching him as if he is a wild animal ready to pounce at a
moments notice.
Batman considers Yancy’s comment then whispers, “Thirty years have nearly
passed since you and Roland left for Columbia and yet you speak of Roland’s share
of the money as if it still sits in a bank?”
Confusion sets in overtaking the apprehension, “Roland wanted a thirty year
period to go by before the money could be made available to the person he
appointed the account to. Another reason why I had assumed it was for his child.”
His voice once again carelessly carries over to Larry in his cell across the hall.
Larry sits up and angrily yells out, “What in the world is going on over ther-“, his
voice quickly goes quiet.
Yancy caught another slight movement from Batman’s cape just before Larry
went silent. From down the hall a few murmurs can be heard from other inmates
but things promptly quiet down. Batman remains motionless silently staring at
Yancy in the darkness.
Yancy’s confusion fades, his apprehension evolves into realization,
“Okay. I’m ready,” he states with a strange mixture of confidence and dejection
followed by a long somber exhale.
Batman looks quizzically at him as he stands up from his bed.
Yancy lifts his chin high and waits. Even being on his feet Batman towers
over him. Yancy closes his eyes tightly, “You know I’ve read several articles about
you, I always got the sense you were one of the good guys despite your methods. I
would have never guessed you would be the one that they would send.”
After what seems like a lifetime to Yancy, a reassuring hand lands on his
shoulder, which startles him, causing his whole body to jump. He slowly and
awkwardly opens one eye and sees nothing except a dark room. Yancy then opens
both eyes madly searching but finds no evidence of Batman. The only sign of
Batman’s visit will be found in the morning when Larry wakes up with a headache
leaving the guards to wonder how Yancy, an arthritic aging man, was able to get a
piece of decorative soap through two sets of bars to successfully hit Larry dead
center in the forehead knocking his cellmate out cold.
Yancy eventually slumps down heavily onto the side of his bed contemplating
a great many things, the first most in his mind is wondering if he will be able to get
any sleep tonight or for the next few nights to come.

*******

Speeding along a dark two-lane road the Batmobile kicks up the dead
leaves that line the outer edge of the road, leaving a torrent of dust and foliage in its
wake as it maneuvers around the bends and hills that lead into the city. His eyes
trained to the road ahead he grips the steering wheel tightly, the bottom half of his
face and cowl slightly aglow from the controls and displays on the dash.
Thinking on the events that were just retold to him back at the prison,
Batman earnestly tries to place the pieces of this puzzle together. Some anxiety
that has stayed in the background up until now has just recently crept up into the
forefront of his mind. Almost as a precursor to what he believes he is about to take
place in the not too distant future. It is just a hunch, but his inner feelings, his
conscience and intuition have not failed him in the past so he does well to heed the
promptings he receives from them now.
Yancy was quite afraid even after many years later that some extension of
the Contadino might still try and enact some type of vengeance for what he and
Amherst did thirty years ago. Organized crime seldom ever forgets any wrongdoings
done to them. But with this scenario it seemed more than vengeance was at stake.
A large amount of the crime families money had been stolen from them and if it
had not happened already was about to be released from its thirty year unreachable
perch into the hands of the daughter of the man who helped steal it. Because of
this Batman had contacted Commissioner Gordon immediately upon entering the
Batmobile and asked if the commissioner could pull some strings and have Yancy
transferred to a facility in Keystone City in order to better protect him from any
retaliation from the remnants of the crime family.
“Alfred”, he says as plainly as he would if his longtime friend and employee
were in the same room.
Just a few short moments later Alfred responds, his voice coming over crystal
clear through the Batmobile’s system, “Yes, Master Bruce?”
“I need you to access City Hall’s archives and find a birth certificate thirty
years old, all we have to go on is the father’s name, Roland Amherst. I need to
know the name of his daughter.”
“As soon as humanly possible”, he responds, sensing the tense nature of
Master Bruce’s tone.
Speeding away from the forested two-lane country road, Gotham’s grand
skyline comes into view.

*******

Racing by at a blinding speed amidst the towering buildings of Gotham,

Batman looks down at his display double checking that he is on the correct route to
Jimmie Morretti’s penthouse. There seemed to Batman that Jimmie may well have
more information that could help reveal the way to the end of this mystery. Batman
quickly looks back up to the road and is totally surprised by the car that seemingly
appears out of nowhere. He violently jerks the steering wheel to avoid hitting the
car as it crosses right in front of the Batmobile. Batman’s quick reflexes and expert
driving save him from what would have been a horrific collision. The Batmobile
skids across the intersection spinning around one hundred and eighty degrees. The
emergency brakes and automatic corrective steering take over but are not enough
to stop the Batmobile from impacting a street light bringing everything to a sudden
stop.
 Snapping his head in the direction of the fleeing car he barely catches a
glimpse of it as it disappears behind a delivery truck. Batman is dumbfounded and
quickly accesses the video from the numerous cameras on the Batmobile. From
the forward cam he plays back the video just prior to the near collision. He pauses
the video just as the car passes in front. The video confirms it. The car that just cut
in front of the Batmobile is the same one that Batman followed on that stormy night
to the abandoned warehouse.
Forgetting about his visit to Morretti’s penthouse, he puts the Batmobile back
in gear. The engines respond violently, the Batmobile tears down the street in
pursuit. Weaving in and out of traffic Batman is desperate to catch up to the
mysterious car. Hacking into the cities traffic-light camera system would be an ideal
way for Batman to easily ascertain the position of the fleeing car but at the speed
and intensity this chase is taking, it is too dangerous to not have complete
concentration on the road. Batman can be sure that his prey did not make any
turns or take any side streets. At the Batmobile’s current speed any normal car
would have either been overtaken by now or at least have been in sight. He can only
assume that at these speeds it would be impossible to have turned without
wrecking or causing the other cars on the street to wreck. Although he quickly
reminds himself that this car he chases already has a record of seemingly doing the
impractical. With no time to second guess himself he continues fluidly moving in
and out of traffic. Traffic that suddenly begins to slowly congest until his vision is
filled with the red from the stop lights on the scores of cars ahead of him. He
visually scans the area for the car with no results.
Moving off the street and down a dark alley he decides to take a look from
up above. Jumping out of the Batmobile he spots a fire escape and in no time at all
is on top of the roof looking out over the traffic jam that continues on for a half
dozen blocks. Batman grinds his teeth and balls up his gloved fists. The car has
eluded him yet again.
Disgusted, he grinds his teeth moving away from the edge of the roof when
Alfred’s voice comes alive in his ear via the ear piece built into the cowl.
“Master Bruce I believe I may have the information you are seeking.”
“What is it?” He replies. His voice is barely above a whisper which is more
than enough to carry his voice over the acoustic sensor built in to the neck of the
suit and back to Alfred at the Batcave.
“The birth certificate containing a Roland Amherst as the father was made
out to a baby girl with the name Jessica. Jessica Amherst sir,” states Alfred evenly.
Before Batman can respond Alfred cuts back in. “There is one slight problem with
your query, sir.”
Batman waits for Alfred to continue not wanting to interrupt.
“The birth certificate is thirty six years old.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. That would make it too old for the release of
the money. There must be some mistake”, Batman replies.
“Master Bruce. There is more.”
Batman waits, still thinking on the news that Alfred just gave him.
Alfred continues, “Sir, I followed through and did some research on my own
and have come upon a curious discovery. The daughter of Roland Amherst is
currently under the employ of Miss Mandy Stone. Sir, she is her publicist.”
 Batman turns back looking past all the bottlenecked cars and focuses on the
numerous searchlights in the distance moving from side to side heralding the
opening night of Fame Children down at the newly renovated Gotham City Arts
Center.
Batman allows a smile to come across his face and says to himself, “Really?”
“Sorry Master Bruce?”
“No it’s nothing Alfred. Although it seems that I will be attending tonight’s
festivities after all.”

*******
A horde of back stage personal at the Gotham City Arts Center frantically run
around getting last minute details finished before the show begins. Outside the
doors have just opened and the excited Gothamites adorned in their finest clothes
begin to fill the auditorium. Back inside a knock at a dressing room door is
answered by one of the Twins, the large man quickly inspects the lady and the box
of flowers that rests in her hands. Silently inviting her in he opens the door
revealing his counterpart as he keeps a close eye on Mandy Stone while she sits in
front of a heavily lit mirror as two women simultaneously work on her hair and
make-up. The lady with the flowers enters into the dressing room placing the
flowers on a large side table already filled with flowers of every color imaginable
and then exits the room.
Mandy watches the delivery through the mirror and quickly adds, “You two
can follow her out.” The Twins do not budge. Out of the corner of her eye trying
hard not to move her head too much she tells her sister who is standing with her
arms crossed looking out the window and says, “Jessica, would you please?”
Distracted Jessica replies, “What? Oh, yes. Yes, wait outside.”
The Twins look at each other before doing as instructed. As soon as the door
closes behind them Mandy asks, “Something wrong? You have been, I don’t know
distracted, all day long.”
Jessica inhales deeply and moves away from the window placing all her
attention to Mandy. She moves behind her placing her hands on Mandy’s shoulders
taking a good look at her through the mirror. Jessica smiles saying, “You look
absolutely gorgeous.”
“Wow you actually managed to sound happy as you said that. You must not
be okay”, says Mandy.
Jessica’s face does not change despite Mandy’s comment. “I think she is
done ladies, we don’t want to over do it now.”
The hair dresser and make up artist look at each other not quite agreeing
with Jessica’s sentiment but gather their things and leave the dressing room
nonetheless.
Mandy finds Jessica still looking at her with the same expression, not
knowing what has gotten into her usually cold and abrasive sister, Mandy turns the
chair around to face her.
An apparent look of concern on Mandy’s face causes Jessica to take her
sister’s head in an awkward but genuine hug.
 Not knowing how to respond to this strange behavior from her sister, Mandy
just sits there allowing her sister to hug her without returning with a hug of her own,
“Uh Jessica, don’t mess up the face. I’ll be going on stage pretty soon”.
“Yes, yes you are”, she releases the hug then gently takes her sister’s face in
her hands, “This is going to be your night, Mandy. This is your night. Everything you
have ever deserved will finally be coming to you. Tonight your name will become a
name that will be on everyone’s lips for years and years to come. After tonight you
will be a legend.”
Mandy abruptly stands up causing Jessica to step back.
Through squinted eyes Mandy says, “What in the world are you talking about.
Have you been drinking?”
“Mandy, I am just talking about what you have always wanted.”
“Yeah, it’s just that what I want and what you want are not always the same
thing, now is it? Mandy pauses taking time, thinking she may be overreacting.
Could it be that her sister may be finally getting over whatever issues she seems to
always be dealing with? “It’s just a little strange to see you so. . .so . . .”
“Happy”, finishes Jessica with an amusing smile.
Mandy laughs, “Happy yeah, it’s just - I don’t know, a tad out of character for
you. But don’t get me wrong while it might be a little strange hearing these positive
things come out of you I don’t want you to stop by all means keep it up. I could get
used to you being. . .”
“Happy”, says Jessica.
They both begin laughing and shortly thereafter are interrupted by a soft
knock at the door followed by a muffled voice saying, “Mandy you’re on in five,
darling.”
They both compose themselves and look at each other for the first time
without any animosity or jealously felt between them.
Mandy gives Jessica a most sincere smile, “Thank you”, she says softly
choking back tears. “Thank you for everything you have done for me.”
Jessica’s gleeful state is interrupted and is replaced by a sense of sadness
maybe even remorse that is displayed clearly on her face. She swallows hard
looking away from Mandy to the floor.
Mandy jumps, “What the hell was that”, she yells excitedly?!
Jessica looks up and follows Mandy’s gaze to the window behind her. “What.
What did you see”, asks Jessica?
“I – I’m not sure. Something big and black just swept by the window there.”
Jessica instinctively moves away from the window joining Mandy. “Let’s get
you out of that robe and into your costume. You’ve got to go,” says Jessica, keeping
her eyes on the window.
After helping Mandy into her costume Jessica opens the door for Mandy and
follows her out. Before closing the door behind her she looks back one more time
at the window seeing nothing except the lit up skyscrapers beyond.

*******

Just before any opening, whether it be a play, Broadway musical, or movie

premiere, there is an underlying electricity that can be felt throughout whatever
venue the event is taking place at. Tonight is no exception. The buzz in the
auditorium is rhythmic as people in the audience mingle with friends and
acquaintances around the brilliantly decorated theater.
As the house lights dim to alert the audience to take their seats one member
of the audience goes unnoticed amidst the shadows high above the auditorium
floor. From his crouched position Batman’s view of the stage and seating is
unmatched, his cape flows about him hanging below the rafters upon which he
finds his perch, waiting motionless and ever silent taking in all that is to behold,
looking and searching for something to propel him in to action.
Viewing nothing out of the ordinary down below, he turns his attention to the
stagehands ahead that have just joined him on the rafters to take their positions
behind the two large spotlights. He decides to move into a better position to view
the backstage area. Springing up he flings his long cape behind him and breaks out
into a light sprint down the length of the auditorium right in between the two men
handling the spotlights. He passes by swiftly and silently. The only thing to mark
Batman’s passing is a minor turn to the side to see what might have caused the air
movement just felt by one of the stagehands.
Quickly assessing his surroundings he creeps into a dark spot above the
backstage area and pears down at the bustle below. He watches as actors hurry to
and fro getting last minute touch ups on costume and make up, while props and
scenery get placed into position for upcoming scenes.
Back down in the auditorium beginning sparsely then becoming more
cohesive and brash the audience applauds the opening of the curtains. The two
spotlights turn on and the applause slowly dies out. An angelic voice soon breaks
the silence filling the whole theater with its sonorous brilliance piercing the heart of
those listening to it. Even Batman far above the stage below finds himself caught in
the rapture of its melodic web. From his vantage point the stage is blocked by the
top of the large red curtains but still Mandy’s voice is powerful enough to reach the
rafters. He allows himself to revel in the beauty of her voice awhile longer before
putting his mind back on task.
At the other side of the backstage area Batman spots Mandy’s publicist
Jessica the short fiery redhead standing in-between the Twin behemoths with her
arms crossed speaking to both of them with a look of great concern on her face.
When she is done speaking she turns around to look out at Mandy on stage. The
Twin’s walk away in the opposite direction and leave through the double exit doors
at the far end. Staying consistent with all of their actions, the Twins push open both
of the doors simultaneously and that is when Batman can just make out the large
black car with dark tinted windows idling by the curb. They walk into the smoke
caused by the hot exhaust of the car hitting the cold night air but the doors close off
any other sight and Batman can only speculate that the Twins will enter the car
essentially leaving the area.
Confident that the events of the past two nights have led him to this event on
this night he marks the Twins out of the equation putting them out of mind, for now.

*******
 Silent as death, Batman still finds himself in the same position throughout
the first act of the production, silently watching the on goings below. Not finding
anything that requires his attention but resolute in the fact that he is in the right
place at the right time.
During the proceedings he has periodically performed minor muscle
exercises that are almost imperceptible to the eye which help in keeping his body
from getting sore and tight, so that he is in top form if and when he is needed to
spring into action. Throughout the first act as actors come off of stage for costume
changes Batman soon finds it harder and harder to keep his gaze away from Mandy
for the fleeting moments he sees her from his perch. He had to agree with Alfred
she is quite attractive.
Batman whispers, “Alfred, you there?”
“Always sir,” he responds quickly.
The sound of Alfred’s voice so loud and clear in his ear startles Batman a bit
who has grown accustomed to the silence around him.
“Have you enjoyed the performances so far, Master Bruce?”
“Funny”, Batman whispers back.
Alfred of course can locate Master Bruce at any and all times thanks to the
special built in GPS tracker in his suit.
“Alfred, I wonder if you’re familiar with this musical?”
“Quite familiar sir.”
“Good. Would please go over the basic plot points. Help me pass the time.”
“Gladly”, responds Alfred.
Alfred moves through the basic storyline of ‘Fame Children’ which takes up
the rest of the first act and the majority of intermission.
“…and that takes us to the beginning of the second act. Chasity, the main
character is taken to a gathering of young people by her unscrupulous boyfriend
Rick. This gathering takes place in the seediest part of the city. Soon after they
arrive a brawl erupts. Actually the fisticuffs begin to fly as a result of the jealously
Angelina has over her former boyfriend Rick bringing Chasity to - -,”
“Let’s stick to the main points now if we could”, interrupts Batman.
“Certainly sir”, says Alfred feeling a little dejected as the air is taken away
from his sails, he was rather enjoying himself. Nevertheless he continues on
without contempt.
“During the brawl a blade meant for another finds its final resting place into
Chasity’s side”.
Down below someone catches Batman’s notice, Alfred unbeknownst
continues on.
In between the throng of people down below getting ready for the second act
he spots a person in the crowd that seems to be walking with a more calm
determined pace than the others, a walk that tells Batman that this person has a
great command over their body’s faculties. Batman watches as she makes her way
through the crowd. The female doesn’t really make eye contact with anyone until
she comes in view of Jessica, the publicist. They share a longer than normal look
before they both continue on, Jessica to Mandy’s dressing room and the mysterious
woman in the opposite direction.
 She eventually stops at one the catering tables picks up a bagel but does not
attempt to eat it, she just holds it in her hands while watching a group of actors
getting last minute direction from a man wearing a mic and headphones on his
head.
Soon thereafter one of the female actors is pulled away from the group by a
stage hand who speaks some words then points something out to her and walks
away. The young actor leaves in the direction that was just shown to her and walks
out of Batman’s view. The curious woman at the catering table puts down the bagel
and promptly follows her. Just as she too is moving out of Batman’s eye sight, the
curious woman looks up to the rafters. Not just at any part of the top of the
auditorium. With purpose, the woman looks up directly at the area that Batman
himself occupies!

*******

The young actress takes a shortcut through a dark neglected room that is
currently being used as storage for old set pieces and props on her way to the spare
office at the back where a phone waits off the hook for her. As she makes her way
through the maze of stuff she hears a noise behind her. She quickly spins around
but finds that no one is there. Reminding herself that she needs to lay off the scary
movies, she hurries in the direction of the office, not wanting to miss the opening of
the second act and her big scene that is about to come up.
Beginning to think like those scary movies that she loves to watch, she
begins to find it creepy that whoever has called her decided to use the phone line
back here to contact her. A memo did came out last month concerning the use of
cell phones back stage on a performance night so maybe one of her friends needed
to get in touch and it could not wait. She suddenly wishes now she had asked that
stage hand the name of the person on the phone.
As she reaches the entrance to the spare office she is somewhat relieved to
see through the dusty glass of the office where she can make out some members of
the backstage crew passing by.
“Hello”, she says into the phone a little bit annoyed that she had to come
back here to receive the call.
She turns around and leans up against the desk looking back the way she
just came through. There is no answer from the other end and before she can
repeat herself the phone begins to blare into her ear, the telltale noise letting you
know the phone has been off the hook too long after the other caller has already
hung up.
Fear grips at her, she turns around to look back through the dusty glass and
sees that all the backstage crew that she could see earlier have all walked away out
of sight. A noise back in the other room causes her to spin back around dropping
the phone to the floor. She instinctively grabs on to the prop rubber knife that sits in
her jacket pocket, holding on to it for some measure of security. Knowing the only
way back to where she needs to be is through the room she just came through she
waves away what she believes is her overly sensitive nerves and starts back.
Halfway back through the dark room she is relieved to see the light from the hallway
ahead. The music heralding the opening of the curtains reminds her of the big
scene coming up where her character takes a knife and stabs Chasity played by
Mandy Stone. It is something of a dream come true for her. To reach Mandy’s
status as a celebrity and actress has always been a life long goal and to be working
so close to her was a moment she would cherish.
Just as she is about to make the final few steps out of the room and into the
lit hallway beyond a shadowy figure jumps out from behind a stack of boxes right in
front of her.
The young actress lets out a scream that goes unnoticed due to the loud
opening music. Instinctively she sees that she is holding the prop rubber knife in
front of her in defense. Thinking that another fellow actor has just finished playing a
well thought out elaborate prank she begins to laugh at the sight of her holding the
fake knife. When the other person does not reciprocate, her own bouts of laughter
quickly go silent.
Walking forward the shadowy figure says in Japanese, “No thank you, I like
mine better”.
The young actress does not understand what was just said but as soon as the
foreign speaking woman steps forward and the light from the hallway ahead gleams
off the all too real knife in her hand there are no words needed in any language to
understand what is about to happen.

*******

In the dark of the room standing over the body of the young actress the
Japanese speaking woman rubs her hands vigorously trying to clean her hands of
the excess make up that came off of the actress’ face as she grabbed for her mouth
to keep her silent. There was no need to finish her, after all she was not her mission
just the way to the mission. Satisfied that she got all the make up off her hands she
slides the girl behind a desk making sure no one will come across her before her
task is complete.
The assassin never liked to take a job that was planned out by someone
other than herself but this particular outing was one that she could not forego. Her
payment was significant but that was not the primary reason for agreeing to this
undertaking nor did the target have anything to do with it rather the location of this
mission was what caused her to accept. The location rarely played any role in her
decision but Gotham City was not an ordinary setting. Gotham was where he
resided. A chance to run into him was something she could not keep away from.
One defining reason that she never took a job preplanned by the client was
that their strategy seldom ever worked out but as she inspected the size and build
of the unconscious actress she was quite pleased, her costume would be a perfect
match.
Moments later after outfitting herself with the stolen costume she leaves the
room and enters into the lit hallway back toward the main backstage area ready to
assume the role of jilted girlfriend Angelina. From the sounds onstage it seems as if
the second act has already started, from what little the assassin studied about the
production, her character was not needed just yet, a scene with the main character
Chasity and her boyfriend, Rick, exchanging their true feelings for each other on
their way to the party came first.
 The assassin arrives in the main backstage area. The party scene is about to
be setup and the associated players are all congregating around the backstage
manager. Using her masterful ability to blend in with the crowd she joins up with
the rest of the group getting ready to take the stage. Being invisible in a small
crowd of people wearing a significantly different costume than the rest of the actors
was quite a feat, one that the assassin performed with the greatest of skill.
Assuming the role of Angelina meant that her character was to wear the old leather
jacket that her ex boyfriend Rick gave to her two summers ago. In rest of the crowd
there was not one other single leather jacket so going unnoticed even under the
scrutinizing eye of the backstage manager was for any other individual, all too
impossible.
“Where is my Angelina, people?”, enquires the backstage manager to
nobody and everybody in a sing song voice as he looks around the immediate area
with anxious eyes.
The assassin discreetly looks back up to the rafters to the spot where she
last spotted Batman. Mildly surprised, she can still barely make out the bottom
fringes of Batman’s cape.
“People, this is serious. We are going on very soon, I need Angelina now.”
According to her clients the job must be done in a very specific manner. The
target had to be taken out onstage in front of the audience during the production for
all to see. This she was told was important to both the client and the target. How
that was to be so, she did not care. All she needed to know was Mandy Stone would
be dieing onstage tonight.

*******

Sitting alone at the make up chair in Mandy’s dressing room Jessica gazes at
herself via the light bulb bordered mirror with a solemn slightly eyes out of focus
stare. From the inside of her suit pocket her cell phone rings three times before she
even attempts to reach for it and answer it.
Finally flipping the phone open she says, “Hello”, with the same stare fixed
on her face.
A few moments pass by while she listens to the other voice on the other side
of the phone.
“Don’t worry - - no - - I said don’t worry - - yes - - yes - - besides it’s too late to
back down now - - you’ll get your part of the money, Jimmie”.
Jessica closes the phone with the same stare looking back at her from the
mirror, the only change is a solitary tear that quietly falls down her cheek.

*******

“Okay we’re on people, somebody get me a prop knife and a leather jacket,
you”, the backstage manager points to one the closest female actors to standing
next to himself, “you’re my new Angelina. You know it don’t you?”
The excited actress nods enthusiastically. But at that same moment the
assassin raises her hand distinguishing herself from the crowd. Dumbfounded the
backstage manager looks at her not believing he did not notice her before.
 Although clearly confused he desperately beckons her toward the front of the
crowd, as she is about make her way up to him a man in the crowd surprises her,
she is caught up in his momentum and is pushed away with him. Feeling the strong
grip this person has on her upper arm causes a devious smile to appear, she allows
herself to be whisked away out of the crowd.
The assassin attempts to look up at the man leading her away but does not
get the chance before she is pushed into a room adjacent to the backstage area.
She is pushed into the middle of the room but easily enough regains her balance.
Quickly and efficiently the hired killer begins to study her new environment.
She is standing in the middle of a low lit room filled haphazardly with foam
mannequins dressed up in incomplete costumes. Various fabrics and cloths sitting
along sewing machines litter the long work tables surrounding the room. Long
mirrors occupy the entire wall to her left while a second floor landing leading to
shelves filled with various articles extends up beyond the ceiling to her right. There
are no windows save for a small decorative window above the mirrors. Seemingly
the only exit is the door she was just forced through. Standing in front of that door
is a tall man dressed in a skintight black material that leaves his hands and feet
exposed. He is wearing a masquerade type mask in front of his face. This whole
assessment takes but only seconds for the assassin. Turning all of her attention
now to the strangely dressed man in front of her she acknowledges him with a
playful tilt of her head to the side in a somewhat quizzical manner.
During the few moments she was lead away into this room she wasted no
time in reaching into her jacket to retrieve the blade hidden there. Now she gently
pats her hip with the flat side of the blade as she stares at him a bit longer, clearly
taken aback by the appearance of the person in front of her.
A quick flick of the wrist sends the blade straight for the man’s neck. In a
flurry the masked man slaps the blade away. With a deep thud the blade bites into
one of the wooden beams in the ceiling. The assassin regards the defensive move
hiding her amusement. After composing herself she humbly and proudly bows to
the masked man.

*******

Stunned by the seemingly effortless way that Batman was just discovered he
finds it hard to believe that the strange girl that just followed the actress out of
sight, just nonchalantly peered through the darkness to look up right at him. Alfred
continues his retelling of the play in Batman’s ears oblivious to what just happened.
Batman not listening plays back the whole thing in his mind, then it hits him. The
strange woman did well to blend in with the crowd but Batman’s perceptive abilities
were able to see a difference in the way the woman presented herself. Her walk
and whole attitude was different from the everyday crowd that usually populates the
backstage of a play. While he was able to distinguish her from the crowd he could
not, until this very moment, place where he had seen this woman before. When last
he saw her she presented herself as in an entirely different way as part of Mandy
Stone’s entourage. She was the Japanese woman that gave him pause at the
stockholder’s brunch the other day. It is certain now that he was not merely
discovered; it was probable that the woman knew Batman was there the whole
time, then chose in grand style to make it also known to him by providing that
almost imperceptible glance up towards his position. Quite clever he allowed
himself to think. But that thought was quickly being replaced by anger at allowing
this woman to get the better of him.
Still enjoying his retelling of ‘Fame Children’, Alfred is abruptly interrupted,
“Alfred, you say that there is a stabbing about to take place on stage?”
“Y-Yes sir, the female lead is sent to the hospital by a stab wound received
from her new boyfriend’s former girlfriend.”
Batman quickly recalls the costume of the actress that was just followed.
“The former girlfriend is a brunette wearing a leather jacket.”
“That is correct”, Alfred responds.
“Mandy Stone plays the lead role”, says Batman to himself.
“Master Bruce, shall I continue?”
Back in the Batcave Alfred sits in the large backed chair in front of the large
monitor looking down at smaller display to his left showing an imaged outline of the
batsuit. The screen displays various status information on Batman’s body including
heart rate, body temperature and breathing just to name a few.
After waiting a few moments for a response Alfred surmises that something
else has captured Master Bruce’s attention and he quietly gets up and leaves him to
it. Just as he turns away from the controls and heads towards the stairs Alfred does
not see that all the major status displays coming from the suit have suddenly
stopped transmitting data.
Acting quickly Batman has successfully taken of his suit and cowl and
propped it up in the same position that he has been in all along. Now wearing only
the black tight fitted body suit which he wears underneath the costume, he chooses
a secluded part of the theater to make his quiet decent. Coming down in an older
unrenovated part of the backstage area he drops down falling the last ten feet to
the ground, landing silently. From this position he can just make out a crowd
beginning to form. The music blares to life, the second act is about to begin. He
looks around the immediate area and spots an old fabric laundry cart filled with
theater paraphernalia. From inside the cart he grabs an old theater mask, he looks
at it shaking his head begrudgingly, before fitting it on before his face.
Walking toward the crowd, he chooses his steps carefully still trying to figure
out his next move when the Japanese woman comes into the crowd wearing the
costume that the actress she followed out was just wearing.
Not one to rush into any situation without first sizing up the opposition and
formulating a plan Batman waits and studies the Japanese woman as she makes
her way easily into the middle of the crowd, blending in perfectly. The backstage
lights have been lowered for some time now due to the start of the next Act and
Batman uses the increased shadows to move in closer to the crowd. Shortly
thereafter the Japanese woman raises her hand making herself known to the man
with the clipboard and headset using a ladder as a perch to see everyone. She
starts for the front at the behest of the man with the clipboard.
Batman rushes into the crowd intercepting the woman halfway. Assuming
she will not undo her disguise by attempting to do anything out of the ordinary he
guides her out of the crowd with ease. Batman finds the closest door opens it and
pushes her inside. The woman backs up into the middle of the room, her eyes
scope the room then come to rest back on him, he can tell that he has caught her
by surprise. Or has he? Batman ably swats away the flying dagger suddenly coming
straight for his neck with the palm of his hand. He quickly has to rethink his former
thought.

*******

If only The Joker could see him now? What a laugh that psychopath would
have at my present condition, thought Batman. In fact Batman’s present apparel
would indeed put the Joker in a delirious fit of laughter seeing as the mask that he
picked up from the cart is the theater mask displaying the wide grin that so
resembles the Joker’s own.
Putting those thoughts to the side Batman regards the woman bowing in
front of him. She straightens herself and says in Japanese, “It is an honor.”
Batman looks on.
“There was no need to change your appearance on my account. A clever
ruse to be sure. I was beginning to think that you would never come down.”
She begins to pace slowly around the room not in anyway nervous but in a
more excited anxious manner.
As she continues Batman suddenly remembers this woman as one of the
people that was apart of Mandy Stone’s entourage that showed up at the brunch.
“I have no doubt you have discovered the action I intend to do here tonight. It
was my highest hope that you would. I have followed your exploits from afar. I have
been in some ways; one might say been a great admirer of yours. The chance to
meet you is what brought me to this……..city”, she says with disgust. “While my
masters would surely be disappointed for letting my enemy get so close to me as
you did just now in the crowd, I feel I must tell you that if I so desired it. You would
have been mortally wounded within few moments of laying your hands upon me,
crowd or no crowd. She stops pacing and faces him.
“Hold out baits to entice the enemy. Feign disorder, and crush him”, she says
with a sneer.
In perfect Japanese Batman responds with his own quote from The Art of
War, “Attack him where he is unprepared, appear where you are not expected”.
An encouraging smile appears on her face.
Still speaking in Japanese, “Seeing that you are a guest in my city I must be
the gracious host and inform you as well that if it served my purpose the moment
you entered this room you would not have had the use of your limbs let alone your
mouth.”
The Japanese assassin nods briefly at the comment in a silent touché
gesture.
“So the rumors are true? You do not kill”.
“There are far worse things that can be done to a person than killing”.
She inwardly marvels at the presence he commands, realizing now that he is
as frightening in the suit as he is out of it. Surprised that the slight fear she is
beginning to feel is trying to take her over, she decides that the time for
conversation is at an end. Fear is an emotion quite foreign to her and she does not
like its effects on her. Squeezing her hands into fists she endeavors to take control
of it. It does not go unnoticed by Batman.
“My original purpose for being here, while not my priority, will still be
accomplished. Honor dictates that I fulfill my intended duties. Make no mistake
when I am finished with you, the spoiled American actress will die”.
She waits to see what result her words have on Batman and is disappointed
that they seem to have none.
Continuing she states, “While you have come to this contest ill prepared, I on
the other hand, have not.”
Walking towards a pile of crates all the while keeping her eyes on Batman
she bends down and retrieves something from behind them. She holds in her hand
a naginata, a nine foot long staff that ends with a curved blade at the tip of one end.
The two foot curved blade gleams as she rolls the naginata in her hand. One might
look upon this woman and all of her five and a half feet of height holding a weapon
that seems to be double her size and doubt that she could handle it without being
clumsy and looking awkward. The ill-fated one to think that would have it be their
misfortune to have that thought be their last.
In a dazzling display of artistry and mastery she takes the naginata into spins
and flurries, tossing the long weapon from hand to hand, behind her back and over
her head and finishing it off with a loud stomp of her forward reaching foot.
Holding the staff still with the blade pointed towards Batman she says, “Let
us begin”.
Shear determination and intent on her face the assassin begins to move in a
counter clockwise motion while Batman readies himself and mimics her. They
continue this silent dance for a half turn, both waiting for the other to strike first.
When suddenly Batman kicks the dust from the floor into her face, the momentary
distraction allows him to spin in close to her body. He catches her forth coming
blow of the naginata under his arm bringing it close to his body not allowing her to
use it.
The two are practically face to face when Batman says, “Don’t do this!”
She releases her grasp of the naginata does her own spin which ends with a
backhanded fist to Batman’s face. He is pushed back by the extraordinary forceful
blow, coming from someone of her size, and inadvertently releases his hold on the
naginata. Before it drops to the floor she catches it in mid air then thrusts the blunt
end into Batman’s gut pushing him back even further. Using the naginata like a
pole vault stick she catapults her body into the air landing roundhouse kicks with
both feet. Bringing the naginata around, she slashes Batman across the back
cutting through the body suit and his skin.
Backing up the assassin looks on at her handiwork watching as Batman falls
to one knee reeling from the pain coming from the cut in his back. The exhilaration
she is suddenly feeling at finally facing off with the Batman races through her body
like lightning. It seems almost too simple that she could so easily be done with her
goal of defeating him in such short a time. She commands her body to slow down
her breathing; she must not let herself become too energized by her looming victory.
However the many astounding tales of Batman’s escape from seemingly
insurmountable instances of imminent defeat suddenly recalls in her mind. Letting
that thought override her usual calm and decisive thinking she moves forward ready
to put an end to the encounter. Plunging the weapon forward she aims for his
kidney area but loses balance when the strike does not land. Batman easily dodges
the attack changing his position. Now facing her he reaches out for her wrists as
she passes by still in the forward momentum of her failed strike. Batman throws
her into a flip, she lands with a resounding thud right onto her back kicking up dust
in the process. Losing the naginata upon her hard landing instincts take control and
she springs back to her feet from her laying position. Forgetting about the naginata
she runs at Batman then launches into the air with stepping high kicks from both
feet. Batman blocks each kick with his palms blocking down meeting her feet as
they come up in order to make a more unbalanced landing upon her return to the
floor. The tactic does not work, she lands surefooted and commences her attack
with spinning kicks and leg sweeps.
A ballet of fists and feet commences as Batman and the assassin perform a
clinic on varying disciplines of martial arts. Each taking turns in changing the
fighting style as the other quickly adapts and follows suit. Both combatants get in
solid hits on their opponent, more so the assassin who is essentially using all her
abilities against Batman. Batman finds her quickness to be a hindrance to getting
in any fight-ending blows, it seems that she is keeping a two step lead against
Batman and all of his concentration is focused on keeping up with this deadly
woman.
Normally in a situation like this Batman would employ the use of his cape in
diversionary maneuvers by slinging the cape to and fro in front of his enemy to
break the opponent’s line of sight. With those maneuvers a kick or punch could
easily be hidden in the movement of the cape delivering a hidden strike. He is
finding it difficult in his current state to think of a strategy that does not involve the
use of his costume. The costume has become a second skin and now that it is out
of the equation he must readjust his technique accordingly. While the assassin may
not have structured the events to this end, she is visibly taking advantage of the
situation. The stowed away naginata in the room shows that some planning had
been involved and Batman must be aware that more surprises may be in store for
him. He is mindful to take an account of all these setbacks as the battle continues.
Allowing the assassin in closer he employs some boxing techniques and
holds up his forearms in front of his face absorbing the flood of strikes she brings at
him. He waits for an opening and quickly jabs with his left then comes across with
his right landing a hard blow to her jaw. Staggered and a little surprised she backs
up taking the hit better than most men could. Batman left a little off on that last
blow not feeling very comfortable with hitting so small a woman at full force but
quickly sees by the way she has taken it that this dangerous woman is capable of
enduring much more.
She comes back at Batman faster and more furious than before launching a
quick four hit combination that are blocked successfully ending with a counter from
Batman that sends her back on her heels. Batman waits silently poised in a fighting
stance. Again the assassin attacks getting in close with lightning quick strikes from
her hands and elbows. Each strike is blocked followed by another counter that
sends her back once again. Unmoving, he looks on, waiting. Yet again in she
comes with blows and kicks that are only a split second apart, attacking low to high
from left to right, they come in harder and faster than the one just before over and
over again. She does not stop but keeps attacking believing that one of her strikes
must make contact. But none do. Batman becomes an immovable object
determined not to attack only to defend utilizing all his concentration on his
defenses and nothing else. Finally she jumps back in utter frustration. She looks at
Batman and for once since this contest has begun she can finally see that his chest
is slightly moving up and down breathing in and out. While she is gulping for breath
through her mouth as her own body convulses with every deep breath her lungs
crave for. Truly this man was born in the depths of a cave like the Bat he portrays
she thinks to herself.
Letting out a piercing yell she lets all her frustration come to the surface.
Turning around she spies the naginata on the floor. With a quick look back at
Batman she runs for it. Batman quickly chases but the quick footed assassin gets
to it before he can stop her. Instinctively he backs up out of reach of the long and
deadly weapon. Reading her body language he can tell that she has no interest with
him at this moment and looks behind Batman and around at the room more than
likely looking for a way to escape. Reacting he moves forward, she responds and
runs up onto some crates leaps off of one foot and flies over Batman’s head. As she
is in the air she expertly swipes backwards with the blade end of the naginata
cutting the string that is holding the theater mask to Batman’s face. The mask
suddenly shifts blocking his vision and he has to stop momentarily enlarging the
gap between them.
The assassin makes her way to the shelves that line one side of the room
and begins to climb up them with one hand held tight to the naginata. Effortlessly
she scales the shelves heading to the lighting and rigging access point at the
ceiling.
Batman tosses the theater mask away, it is of no use now, he can not allow
her to get away and complete her mission. Looking around he sees her halfway up
the shelves. Looking to the stack of crates just to his left he gets a running start
and hops up to the top. Leaning forward he manages to tilt the stack of crates
forward, they begin to fall over in the direction of the shelves, balancing himself he
goes along for the ride.
Reaching the top shelf she leaps for and successfully makes a one handed
grab onto the edge of the rigging access point. Throwing the naginata onto the
walkway above she now has a free hand to help her up. Pulling herself up to her
waist she has managed to escape or so she thinks when unexpectedly she hears the
creaking of the falling crates below. Just as she is about to get to her feet Batman
jumps from the falling crates and grabs onto on of her ankles. The assassin begins
to slide back down into the room but manages to grab hold of the walkway railing
stopping her decent. Flipping onto her back she gathers her strength and smashes
her free foot into Batman’s face causing him to release her ankle. Batman
attempts to grab for the shelves to stop his fall but cannot get a good grip and lands
violently on the floor below breaking open a few of the fallen crates in the process.

*******

In the glow of soft lamp light amid the leather bound tomes encompassing
the small sitting room adjacent to his bedroom, Alfred in sleeping attire looks on
studiously at an old family album. Filled with aged and faded black and white
photos of family members far away or long time passed, he flips the pages, every
picture that he peers at through his reading glasses brings a mix of happiness and
painful nostalgia to his face.
Finally with a long sigh and a happy grin he closes the album and eases back
into the comfortable arm chair for a moment before placing the album on a small
stand close by.
Getting up he turns off the lamp and continues on to his bedroom in
the next room. He walks over to the right side of the bed and begins to ready the
bed for sleep. Sitting down he removes his slippers and sits back up onto the bed
resting his back against the intricate wooden headboard. Removing his glasses he
rubs at his eyes for a time then places the glasses on the nightstand and leans over
to turn off the lamp. He stops just before doing so as a leather bound copy of The
Complete Works of Homer: The Iliad and the Odyssey laying on the nightstand grabs
his attention. Picking it up he sits back up in the bed and places the book into his
lap. He retrieves his glasses and opens the book to the very back. Gently running
his hand on the inside part of the back cover causes it to come alive with light as
the cleverly hidden LCD screen turns on. Pressing the screen to bring up the link
between the computer down in the Batcave he brings up the status screen showing
the outlined image of Batman’s costume and subsequent status indicators that the
suit constantly relays back to the Batcave.
The light from the bright LCD screen shines up against Alfred’s concerned
look brought about by the nonexistent status readouts coming from the suit.

*******

High above the floor of the theater where the musical is continuing on to the
great enjoyment of all those in attendance the assassin silently stalks. On an area
even higher than the level where the manned spotlights are located she crouches
low choosing her steps ever so carefully holding the naginata in both hands, the
bladed tip leading out in front of her. The lights from the brightened stage far below
illuminate the bottom part of her face in an eerie glow as her quick attentive eyes
dart back and forth peering into the darkness, watching and waiting. Even though
she chose to leave the situation below to get a hold of her emotions, to try and
recover the upper hand by resetting the location she can’t help but feel that she is
the one that is being hunted. In her mind these cramped walkways should inhibit
any advantage he may have over her due to Batman’s larger frame.
Her emotions come up to boil once again, she could not have believed that
she would ever be placed in a situation like this, in a situation where she was not in
total control. Where she had to pick and choose the area where a battle between
an enemy had to be fought. A target’s end always had such planning involved but
when two people faced each other eye to eye it was the better fighter that prevailed
no matter when and where the battle took place. She could not accept that she was
the inferior fighter in this situation.
Her master had always warned her about her arrogance and impetuousness.
They were the two things that almost prohibited her from being accepted as his
student in the first place. But along with those ‘undesirable qualities’ as her master
always referred to them, she had one of the strongest and purest sense of purpose
and drive that her venerable master had ever encountered. That was her saving
grace, that part of her that her master found so intriguing in a student. That alone
was the only reason she was accepted into his tutelage.
However, she had to think, would those ‘undesirable qualities’ be the
downfall to her now? She could almost hear her master’s voice telling her so.
“You were with there with me on the rooftop the other night in front of
Morretti’s place”, comes Batman’s voice from somewhere in the darkness stating a
fact more so than a asking a question.
She thinks back to last night when she was but a breath away from Batman
as he looked down upon Jimmie’s Fast Cash and Loans. She thought she had felt a
slight change in this energy that night, she guessed that he had detected her but
didn’t know the truth until now. Under her breath she curses to herself for not
ending the Batman right then and there. But her master would not have ever been
considered a master if he was not successful in training his students in honor,
discipline and the ways of the ansatsusha, the assassin. Honor dictated, as her
master always said, that those that were not marked for death always received the
honor of facing their opponent face to face in open fair combat. Those that were
marked for death did not receive that honor. An assassin should not openly look for
conflict, it should not be in their nature to do so, for if that was their nature then
they were not assassins at all, but mere thugs. Her master made this a daily lesson
in his teachings, but being the headstrong woman she was, she only listened as far
as much as was needed to proceed to the next lesson. Surprising to her was the
fact that even after all these years that daily lesson that she in essence shrugged
off was what kept her from striking down Batman last night. Maturity sometimes
even gets the best of the most stubborn people she muses.
Not knowing exactly where Batman’s voice is coming from she speaks out to
the darkness to no particular area, “The roof was only one of the close encounters
I’ve had with you”.
She decides to release that bit of information to Batman who will no doubt
figure out that the other moment she is referring to is the moment right after he
defeated the Twins, when he was knocked unconscious. In doing so she hopes to
reassess her position over him. To let him know that his life has been in the palm of
her hands more than once and can easily be again.
Still crouched low while moving backwards she continues to search the
immediate area, ready for any surprises Batman may bring forth, a little amazed,
maybe even impressed, that he was able to recover so quickly and yet again,
apparently, regain the upper hand. The assassin knew then and there at that
moment, she was outmatched. Her pride though would not allow her determination
to be affected by this revelation, she would press on no matter what it took,
regardless of the cost.
“The other night when those twins were kicking your unconscious body I
stopped them because I knew that was no way for a warrior to die. Yes, Batman,
you are a warrior. Silent and hidden in the shadows but a warrior no less”.
“Do you want my gratitude”, asks Batman from somewhere out in the
darkness?
“I want your LIFE”, she exclaims.
 “Why does Morretti want Mandy Stone dead? What does she have to do with
the stolen mob money”, probes Batman?
“Oh come now, it does not become you to ask questions that have no bearing
on the matter at hand”, she says calmly, waiting to hear Batman’s response in order
to gauge where he is hiding. “That is business. This is pleasure.”
“I find no pleasure in this”, he responds.
“So be it. But please let us stop this childish game. Come out and let us be
done with this. I have business to attend to”.
“As you wish”, says Batman from directly behind her.
The assassin wastes not a moment and brings the blade of the naginata
around in a swinging arc. Batman blocks the attempt with the outside part of his
left forearm. Quickly releasing her right hand grip on the naginata she brings her
fingers together extending them out like a spear and thrusts her hand forward going
under Batman’s defenses landing a deadly strike to his throat. Only his quick
reflexes keep the blow from being fatal, he stumbles back in agony reaching for this
neck. Slamming the naginata parallel, across both handrails, she uses it for
leverage going into a front flip bringing down the heels of her feet into the back of
Batman’s head. She follows that up with a back and forth snapping side kick, first
hitting him across the jaw with the front of her foot and then returning back the
same way hitting the other side of his face with the back of her foot. Batman falls
back onto the grated walkway. She stands over him with a grim frown on her face
feeding on the sight in front of her, filling her pride. She turns back to retrieve the
naginata still laying across the walkway rails. Batman takes advangage of her
momentary lapse and performs a scissor-kick takedown on her legs knocking her
off balance and almost successfully sending her over the handrails. Grabbing the
handrails at the last moment she is able to secure herself. Batman does a kick-up
back to his feet immediately getting into a defensive fighting position.
The assassin marvels at the two mistakes that just occurred, the first was
her taking her eyes off of her opponent, the second was that Batman did not finish
her by sending her over the edge, which he was very capable of doing if he had
chosen. She knew this was one of his shortcomings that he would never take a life.
So be it. It would be his undoing in the end.
Finally a nice big amusing smile is expressed on the assassin’s face as she
nods up and down. Batman can now see in the assassin’s eyes a glimpse of a small
touch of what is abundantly more present in the Joker’s own eyes. For one to wind
themselves up so tight and then to be pushed or pulled to their limit something
inside of them snaps, Batman believes this is what he has just witnessed right
before his eyes.
At that moment with almost a snarl, she comes back in at Batman full force,
launching kicks, jabs, knees, punches, elbows all of her fury into him. Landing more
than a few of her attacks does not bring her away from the downward spiral her
mind and feelings are taking her. She was correct in thinking that the tight space of
this walkway would hinder the much larger Batman but once again his fighting
prowess amazes her and she is not making the headway she had hoped in this epic
fight with this almost mythical man. On and on they go continuing their deadly
dance, when after many attempts to end the fight fail a low hum begins to form
inside her throat as each second passes it grows until it becomes a unending
scream and finally a loud roar.
Far down below where the audience is rapt with attention by the
performance in front of them a head here and there quietly looks around with
furrowed brow not knowing the faint sound they think they just heard was the sound
of a woman losing absolute control over herself.
Batman watches as the assassin stops and steps back from the fight. Her
hands are limp and hanging heavy, the amusing smile quickly returns. Rocking
back and forth from side to side she almost goes into a trance like state when all of
a sudden without any warning bull rushes Batman driving him backwards. With her
last spurt of adrenaline coursing through her body she manages to propel the much
larger man back all the way into the handrail at a right angle turn of the walkway.
The force of the two bodies bends the normally strong rail until it breaks free on one
end. Both the assassin and Batman fall off the walkway, the assassin still gripped
on tightly to Batman’s body.
Slamming into another walkway fifteen feet below Batman’s back takes the
brunt of the force as the assassin land on top of his chest. Groggily they both get to
their knees but the assassin is the quicker to her feet and once again she bull
rushes Batman pushing him back to another turn of the walkway, crashing up into
another handrail once again. This time however the force of her rush does not have
the same strength as before and the handrail does not break but Batman’s body
still manages to almost go over the rail. Batman successfully steadies himself on a
vertical support bar desperately trying to bring himself back onto the walkway. The
muscles in his neck strain as he fights through the pain and begins to right himself.
Ignoring her own tired muscles the assassin grabs onto the same support bar and
climbs up onto an adjoining handrail and begins to kick down into Batman’s face,
chest and finally the arm that has a grip on the support bar. She gathers her
waning strength for one big kick and as she lands it into Batman’s arm, he lets go
falling away, the force of that kick also causes her to slip and follow Batman into the
depths below.

*******

Walking out of one of the four double doors that lead to the main audience
hall a glamorously dressed woman comes out into the lobby and presses a button
on the cell phone in her hand. She places it to her ear waiting, her tuxedo-clad
husband soon follows her out to stand next to her looking at her pensively. He looks
with anticipation back to the double doors that have yet to close as they show him
one final glimpse of the stage. Hoping that he and his wife can go back and return
to their seats he looks back at his wife wondering, waiting.
“Hello, yes Marty, this is Mrs. Henderson. Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. No no
don’t worry about the mess I will have them clean it up in the morning. So your
parents are picking you up? Good. Well, I hope you feel better. Forget about it, Mr.
Henderson and I can catch this show another time.”
Mr. Henderson rolls his eyes at that last remark and walks off in mild disgust.
 “As long as the kids are going to be watched by your mother until we get
there it is not a problem. Tell your mom we appreciate her staying and we will have
Smith drive her home once we get there. Okay. Take care, bye bye.”
Mrs. Henderson hangs up the phone and shares an ‘oh well’ look with her
husband.
“Here are the stubs”, Mr. Henderson reaches into his pocket and hands his
wife two small stubs, “get our coats I’ll step out real quick and hail a cab.”
Mrs. Henderson walks over to the cloakroom and hands the attendant the
two stubs.
With a warm smile he takes them when suddenly a large muffled crash
sounds off from somewhere beyond the wall directly behind the attendant. Mrs.
Henderson looks at him with great concern.
“Hmmm that is a section of the old unrenovated cloakroom, they have been
working back there this past week. It might just be one of their tools falling off a
ladder”, the attendant struggles to say.
Mrs. Henderson looks unconvinced, they share a strange moment before the
attendant heads off to his left and comes back with Mr. and Mrs. Henderson’s coats
from the other room.
Once they have left, the attendant walks back into the room where a
multitude of coats hang, he looks towards the back of the room to a darkened
doorway. He walks back to inspect the cause of the noise, the drywall in this part of
the storage area is still unfinished, he steps through the doorway and peers into the
darkness. A low moan and some grunts greet him. Quickly fumbling for the switch
on the wall he manages to turn on the temporary lighting. After a few blinks on and
off the lights stay on and his eyes open with amazement. Laying amidst broken
pieces of ceiling and debris lay a male and female that appear to have fallen
through the huge gaping hole in the ceiling.
With trepidation he walks closer to them. The two people, one wearing all
black and the other the female dressed like one of the cast members are not
moving. Getting closer he looks up into the hole where these two must have come
from.
The assassin jerks awake gasping loudly her eyes opened wide. The
attendant lets out a girly scream and leaves the premises as fast as his unathletic
body can carry him, he almost trips on debris on his way out.
Blinking widely she struggles to prop herself on her elbows. She looks
around getting her bearings when her eyes land upon Batman’s body laying just a
few feet away. She watches as his chest rises and falls. Whatever pain or injury she
has or has sustained goes right out of the window, it is of no concern to her right
now. All she wants, all she needs is to finally end this and walk away victorious and
the better for it.
Amazingly she gets to her knees and crawls over to him and puts her hands
around his neck but stops, she sees that his face is covered by a piece of the foam
from the ceiling. Honor dictated that knowing the true identity of Batman was to be
revered. That knowingly seeking who was behind the mask would be dishonoring to
her and to the one wearing the mask. But she thought, the road she has taken in
these past few minutes that have now seemed much much longer has led her away
from the moral beliefs and practices she once tried so hard to adhere to. So with
those thoughts she removes her hand from his neck and pushes away the piece of
foam blocking the view of his face. Instead of seeing the face behind the mask she
gets a surprise when Batman’s head rushes up and headbutts her in the forehead
creating a large gash over one of her eyes. Almost blinded now, she struggles with
him until she can get on top and straddle his chest keeping him down. Desperately
she manages to grab a small dart from underneath her sleave and somehow within
the struggle is able to take off the protective cap covering the needle. With all her
remaining strength she jams the dart into Batman’s neck. Immediately his arms
lose their strength and fall limply to the ground.
From out in the front newly renovated part of the cloakroom the assassin
hears a voice yell out, “They are over here, hurry please.”
His voice is followed by the muffled noise of two police walkie talkies. She
scrambles to her feet and looks around finding the only visible exit is the doorway
leading to the renovated cloakroom. Straining her ears she picks up a voice of one
of the cops calling in for backup. All that runs through her mind is getting away to
revel in her victory. Without looking back she goes to the doorway turns off the light
and enters the coat storage room. She peers out to the front desk and beyond to
the lobby catching sight of the two cops and a theater attendant. Formulating her
plan she jumps the counter runs at full speed to the unsuspecting cops and knocks
them over. Before heading to the front doors she heads straight for the fire alarm
pulls it and leaves through the front doors. Seconds later the first of the audience to
get out of their seats opens the doors to the lobby followed soon after by the rest of
the huge crowd. The two cops barely make it to their feet when they get caught up
in the rush to the front doors and are carried out with the flow of people.
Back in the darkness amidst the debris Batman still on his back lays with
eyes open, his look unfocused. Fighting with all his might he rolls onto his stomach
and manages to get to his knees. The toxin that the assassin delivered into his body
is working fast, he feels the prick in his neck where the dart still sticks, with a
shanking hand he pulls it out. Instictively he goes to his waist grabbing for a
compartment in his utility belt that is not there. Moving quickly through his
circulatory system the toxin has already started to effect his thinking and he can not
understand why whatever he needs to find at his waist is not there. After a few
more moments he forgets that he even needs to find anything. Survival kicks in, he
slowly begins to crawl on hands and knees to the light beyond the doorway. The fire
alarm is a dull muffled noise to his ears, his faculties begin to fail, his eyesight
starts to blur.
For one like Batman thinking how not to die was a daily occurrence, it was a
necessary part of life, it needed to be contemplated in order for him to do the work
he does. His tools, the vehicles, his suit, and training were all a part of keeping him
alive in the face of unspeakable dangers he faced night after night. Thinking about
how not to die or how to stay alive is as normal for Batman as it is for a normal run
of the mill person to think about what they were going to eat for breakfast every
morning. What was never done before, until this very moment, was thinking about
the actual act of dying.
His thoughts go immediately to his parents. Would the voices of his parents
once again wake him from his impending doom? He thought not. Would he soon
see them again?
 He falls back down to his stomach no longer able to move forward. Trying to
let out a yell for help becomes pointless as all he can accomplish is a small croak
that does not travel beyond the room.
His hands slowly go to his face touching the bare skin of his forehead.
Gotham’s papers will be abuzz tomorrow with news of the identity of the Batman.
What would happen to Alfred he wondered. All alone in Wayne Manor. The thought
pains his heart. Again he decides that this is not going to be the end so he pulls
himself up from the floor but he is only able to lift his upper body before falling
back down to the hard dusty floor. Hoping for those voices to come again, the
voices of his parents calling him to wake, to get up, to let him know that everything
is going to be okay. They never come. Finally against all that is in him he lets out a
deep breath and closes his eyes succumbing to the darkness.

*******

“Master Bruce”.
Moments pass that feel like hours.
“Dear boy”.
The words are comforting to him although he knows not where they come from. A
dream? His imagination?
He manages to open his eyes though it feels like his eyelids weigh a ton. With his
vision too blurry to make out anything he closes them and drifts off once again.
“Glad to have you back, Master Bruce”, says Alfred to himself. He leans back
in the chair he has placed next to Bruce’s bed rubbing gently at his teary eyes.
Hours later, in the very early hours of the morning just before the sun begins
to light the eastern sky, Bruce opens his eyes again. This time however his eyesight
is much much clearer. A warm smile and feeling washes over Bruce as he looks
around at his massive bedroom and their familiar surroundings. Groggily he rubs
his hands back and forth across the soft bedsheets, he cannot quite remember all
the details of what has occurred. Right now all he knows is he can’t believe that he
is alive. The steady tone of a heart rate monitor gets his attention, he looks off to
the side of the bed and looks at it along with the hanging IV bag. Sitting close by he
finally sees Alfred sleeping with legs stretched out crossed at the ankles looking
very uncomfortable in a chair built more for looks then the comfort Alfred is
fruitlessly trying to find. What a sight this is for Bruce. Purposely clearing his throat
which is surprisingly hoarse but nonetheless effective, Alfred wakes with a slight
start. His focus immediately goes to Bruce, whose sly sarcastic smile greets him.
“Sleeping on the job I see”, remarks Bruce mockingly in a low scratchy voice.
Alfred smiles at the joke. He leans forward in the chair and pats Bruce on the top of
his hand, “It’s good to have you back my boy”.
Alfred’s tone quickly reminds Bruce how serious his situation was. He looks up at
the pain still evident in Alfred’s eyes but quickly looks away not liking the signs of
the potential loss he almost brought into his faithful friend’s life.
“How. . .” asks Bruce attempting to change the mood.
Alfred begins in a soft somber voice, “The status indicators in your suit
stopped transmitting. Naturally I feared the worse. I was able to acquire your last
known position and promptly set out after you. How much do you remember”?
Bruce squints his eyes trying to get past the slight headache he is experiencing in
order to think back on last night’s events.
“The musical……there was a fall…….couldn’t move anymore…….didn’t have
the strength left………..there was an assassin”.
“Sent after you”, Alfred asks?
After a few moments, “No, not me. Mandy! Mandy Stone, is she alright?
Alfred you need to call Gordon and - -“
“Master Bruce there is no need for that, Ms. Stone is quite safe”.
“How”?
“After the theater was evacuated the firemen inspected the building and they
came across the body of an unfortunate young lady. Apparently she was a member
of the cast.”
Bruce grimaces hard, thinking he knows exactly who they must have found.
It had to have been the young actress that the assassin followed in order to get the
young woman’s costume. Had he acted the girl could still be alive.
Alfred sees the anger in Bruce’s eyes. Placing his hands on his shoulder
helps to bring Bruce back from the brooding mood he was about to enter. Bruce
smiles solemnly at Alfred, thankful for his support.
Alfred continues, “The police gathered the crew and cast members and
questioned them on the matter. No doubt due to her popularity they have her under
guard”. He remains silent to let Bruce’s mind uncloud itself and to process what he
has just been told. When he sees the familiar radiance in his young master’s eyes
he decides to ask, “Sir may I enquire as to your part in this night’s events”?
“I still don’t know how I got here or how I am even alive”, chuckles Bruce.
“I got to the theater just as the last of the people in attendance exited the
building, just as the fire trucks pulled in front. I made my way up to the entrance
and overheard one of the employees off to one side frantically try to explain to a
young fireman that aliens were descending from the roof or some such nonsense.
So of course I naturally thought of you, sir.”
“Naturally,” chimes in Bruce with a smile.
Returning his smile, Alfred continues, “I managed to flag over the employee
and asked him where exactly these aliens manifested themselves”. Alfred smile
fades away, “He told me and that is where I found you”. Alfred looks down trying to
compose himself. His eyes begin to sting at the onset of the tears coming to the
surface. He clears his throat gets up acting busy, checking the heart rate monitor.
Without looking at Bruce, Alfred begins again, “I found you unconscious. A dart was
lying nearby, a quick look showed me the tip had been coated with some substance.
I understood then why the status indicators went off on your suit and later why you
had not taken the poison inhibitor from your belt. Why did you feel the need to get
out of the suit meant to conceal your identity and protect your life? Sir.”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time”, answers Batman carefully.
“Did it work”, inquires Alfred?
“To an extent, yes”.
“Well then, bravo Master Bruce”. Alfred resumes his seated position by the
bed. Having regained his poise he says, “Now Master Bruce let’s hear it, you
mentioned an assassin”.
 Bruce tells Alfred of the nights events starting with the near disastrous
collision with the same car that lead Batman into this whole scenario on that rainy
lonely night in the first place. About how in his pursuit of the car he received
Alfred’s message that closed all other possible avenues of figuring out this mystery
and opening the only one that made sense, which so happened to be the direction
the ‘ghost’ car was leading him to. From there he explained the sudden appearance
of the one member of Mandy Stone’s entourage that had given him pause. How she
attained the costume of the character that was to have an on stage stabbing with
Mandy’s character. Bruce pauses in his retelling quietly punishing himself for
allowing harm to come to the poor actress that had lost not only her costume to the
assassin but her life as well. Finally he retells the encounter with the assassin and
his reasoning behind getting out of the Batsuit.
“Very intriguing sir but I fail to see how any of this relates to this car and what
you found in that warehouse that night”, says Alfred. “Before you say anything else
Master Bruce, I must divulge some bit of information that might shed even more
light on this whole affair”.
Bruce in rapt attention looks on.
“When I told you that Mandy Stone’s manager was the name of the baby on
the birth certificate that you had me look up, what I did not know at the time was
that Miss Stone and her manager are sisters”.
Bruce rises from the bed to a sitting position a little too fast for Alfred’s
comfort.
“Master Bruce you must lie back down”.
“No Alfred I am feeling much better, I need-.”
“You need nothing sir except to lie back down in your bed and rest”, exclaims
Alfred as he walks around to the other side of the bed gently nudging Bruce back
into a lying position.
Bruce complies but quickly asks, “Alfred how?”
“Elementary”, he replies as he walks back towards the bedroom door and
picks up a newspaper from a small desk. With a grin that he is unable to hold back
he walks back tossing the paper into Bruce’s lap.
Bruce grabs the paper noticing the headline OPENING NIGHT MURDER, right
below the bold letters is a picture of the theater’s front. Clearly seen in the picture
are the large banners from Fame Children depicting their star Mandy Stone. Bruce
quickly reads over the article.
The article goes over the facts of what transpired last night going over a little
bit about the importance of Mandy’s decision to come to Gotham City to perform.
But then the article changes in tone quickly discussing the grief that the reporter
describes ‘uncharacteristically’ came over Mandy’s assistant.
Bruce’s brows furrow he adjusts the paper and reads on.
Alfred watches Bruce read for a few more moments. The stoic expression of
his friend and employer rarely ever changes when he is in this ‘mode’ but being his
lifelong companion Alfred has come accustomed to noticing when something
piques Bruce’s interest. When he finally sees that ever so slight change in his
expression, the one that shows surprise, he quietly grabs the remote control for the
TV and places it on the nightstand. Unbeknownst to Bruce, Alfred exits, leaving him
alone with these new revelations.
 *******

Alfred knocks on the door to Master Wayne’s bedroom, as he does so he can

hear the sound of the television through the thick wooden doors. When no response
comes he opens the door and enters. Bruce is sitting up in bed intently watching
the Gotham morning news program.
“I see the color has returned to your face”, Alfred says. Not expecting any
sort of reply he continues on, placing Master Bruce’s breakfast on the nightstand.
Before Alfred was the concerned father figure caring and worrying for his dear friend
now he resumes his role as the caretaker of Wayne Manor, he does not sit in the
chair that he had placed to keep a watchful eye on Master Bruce but stands erectly
with his arms behind his back waiting for any request from his young employer.
Bruce finally looks up regarding Alfred.
“Alfred please sit down”.
Alfred sits then turns his attention to the large monitor that when not in use reverts
back to a large painting of early Gotham, when it was first founded. On the news
program are a panel of celebrity experts and columnists talking about this new
breaking news that has taken the pop culture world by storm since last night’s
events at Fame Children.
The article in the paper was the first to reveal to the world that Mandy and
her assistant were actually sisters and that the events of last night caused the
assistant to reveal her plot in the attempted murder of Mandy. The guilt welled up
inside her so much that she could not contain it any longer. Overjoyed that her
sister did not meet the demise that she intended for her she decided to let the
media know what she had planned.
Every news outlet since the release of the paper has wanted an interview
with the assistant but Gotham’s finest soon took her into custody and has been
denying all access to her. Mandy Stone was not making any comments but
speaking through her lawyer to the public, releasing only canned remarks and
statements to the new events.
“Have you heard all of this, Alfred”?
“Yes Master Bruce I have been keeping up with it from the kitchen”.
A short melody of beeps goes off from the monitor a small pop up window appears
showing a secure encrypted message coming in for Batman.
Without warning Bruce’s voice drops, changing eerily into the voice of
Batman. No matter how many times Alfred hears it, he doesn’t think he will ever
get used to the dramatic and sudden change that occurs when he does that.
“Computer. Authorize”.
“Voice authorization granted. Incoming message initializing”.
“Commissioner what do you have for me?”
“Straight to business as usual I see”, says Commissioner Gordon over the
monitors speakers.
Batman ignores the remark and continues, “Do you have him in custody?”
“Yes Batman, and just as you thought Morretti is signing like a canary. He
has already confirmed what you previously told us. The stolen mob money, his old
ties to La Contadino he spoke about it all”.
 “And what about this morning’s media buzz? Did he go into any of that at
all”, asks Batman?
“Well he was less inclined to get into anything else but when he overheard
some of the officers talking about it he blew up and we couldn’t get him to shut up.
A bucket of oysters wouldn’t have gotten him to calm down.”
“Explain”, exclaims Batman.
“Well apparently Miss Stone’s assistant was visited by Morretti’s nephew’s
one day. They were asking about the stolen mob money. Morretti, the slimey low
life that he is, was always looking for an easy score and inheriting some of his old
families paperwork he came across some info on Roland Amherst and his escape to
Columbia. It was a pet project of his for years. He did his research and found out
that Amherst died the same year he stole the money. Morretti found out about the
account he set up and the details of how and when the money was to be released.
He thought the same as you did that Mandy’s assistant was going to be the
benefactor of the money. But when his nephews visited her she quickly turned the
tables by telling them that she had recently come in contact with her half sister, the
rich and famous Mandy Stone. She did not know anything about the money. She
used her sister’s riches to keep Morretti’s nephews salivating as she asked for some
time to find out about this secret account her late father had set up. Morretti
obliged her the time even giving her the bank where he strongly believed the money
was being held. The assistant explained that she was the daughter of the man who
opened the account but when they checked their records they told her that they had
no record of her name anywhere. Her father had no family and she knew that the
way her mother and father parted that there was no way he would leave the money
for her. But when the bank told her that they had no idea who she was it got
Morretti and the assistant thinking”.
“Amherst had an affair”, states Batman.
“Not quite. Roland Amherst was divorced at the time. Just before he left the
country he found comfort in the arms of a street worker. Morretti was able to find
her, a Rebecca Stone, she just barely found out that she was pregnant a couple of
months before Amherst planned the double cross of La Contadino and his escape”.
“Why didn’t Morretti pursue the money by way of Mandy’s mother”, asks
Batman.
“Well when I say Morretti found her I should have said he found her
gravestone. She had died when Mandy was four years old. The life she led as a
young girl out on the streets caught up with her apparently. Morretti had his
nephews push hard on one of the bank managers and he confirmed that the
account was to go to the daughter of Rebecca Stone. It’s kind of funny that the
media is making such a big deal about Mandy coming to Gotham when it turns out
the girl was born here. Not that she would remember I’m guessing. Losing a parent
at that young of an age can cause the mind to do some extraordinary things”.
Alfred steals a glance over at Bruce. Bruce looks down for a few seconds
knowing how true a statement it is that Gordon just spoke.
Gordon continues, “Besides Miss Stone was shortly thereafter flown out west
to live with her mother’s best friend”.
“Mandy Stone had no idea about of all of this”, Batman asks?
 “Apparently not. The assistant came to know that her father had another
baby, when she found out that it was the international superstar Mandy Stone she
did everything she could to get close to her to tell her about their shared blood.
Using the angle of being her only family member she was able to secure her
position in Mandy’s entourage. After finding out that the money was never
intended for her but for her half sister Mandy Stone, she became furious and went
back to Morretti and devised this whole plan of eliminating Miss Stone. For his help
she promised Morretti the stolen money plus forty percent more as the assistant
convinced Miss Stone to place her the beneficiary of her vast wealth”.
“Well Commisioner seems like you have everything well under control”,
states Batman.
“Without your help we would not be as far as we are now”, replies Gordon.
“Commissioner I was just one piece in this large puzzle.”
“Aren’t we all”, concludes Gordon.
“Batman out”.
With that the secure line is ended and the monitor resumes its normal functions.
Bruce presses a button on the remote and the image on the screen flickers then
dies out being replaced by the beautiful painting.
Alfred gets up from the chair ready to leave Master Bruce to his own thoughts
but upon reaching the door Bruce calls out his name.
“Alfred. One more thing before you go. I wonder if you could make a call on
my behalf? Send my regards and condolences to Mandy Stone if you don’t mind.
Ask her if I could be of assistance to her by taking her mind off things.”
“What did you have in mind, Master Bruce”?
“Dinner? Tonight? Do you think that is too soon?
“One never knows sir, but one should always ask”.
“Good. It seems that Miss Stone and I have more in common than I first
thought”.

*******
Fine silver clanging gently against first-class dinnerware mixes with the soft
hum of romantic whispers spoken across elegantly set tables. Those familiar noises
fill the room of one of the finest restaurants in Gotham City. Bruce Wayne sits
across the table from the spectacularly dressed Mandy Stone who nervously sips at
her champagne while stealing a glance at him over the rim of her glass.
“I can never be myself to tell you the truth. I always have to be a certain way
or say something I wouldn’t normally say just so that I’m not forgotten. My publicist
always says that tired saying, ‘bad publicity is better than no publicity’ but he would
go as far as saying that bad publicity is more desirable then good publicity. I could
donate money for a children’s wing in a hospital and I wouldn’t get as much press
as if I say crashed a stockholders brunch”, she smiles cutely over to Bruce, watching
him smile amusingly at what she just said.
“So is that what all that was? A publicity stunt”?
“Actually no, that was something I wanted to do. But sometimes it’s hard not
be the spoiled actress. Being two different people kinda gets confusing. I think you
would have to be a little nuts to be able to pull that off successfully”.
 Bruce’s eyes widen at the remark, he quickly takes a sip of his champagne.
He begins to speak when something upstairs on the balcony gets his attention. His
heart skips a beat. Leaning over the edge of the balcony is the same man that he
followed into the abandoned warehouse where he found the burnt piece of paper,
the piece of paper that lead him to all of these events these past few days. Wearing
a trench coat and fedora Bruce cannot make out the man’s face but he knows that
this is the same man. The dim lights in the restaurant and the hat make it hard to
even see the man’s eyes but Bruce can feel them staring right through him.
Bruce not wanting to give anything away to Mandy looks towards her and
smiles when she looks up from her plate of food.
“Everything okay”, she asks?
“Yes, but would you please excuse me”?
“Sure no problem, but hurry back because your food is looking good, you
might not have much left when you get back”.
Bruce gets up grabs the napkin from his lap and places it on his seat. He
smiles at Mandy and heads for the stairs that lead to the balcony. Bruce looks back
up, the man is still in the same position, he has not moved. Upon reaching the final
few steps the mysterious man stands up and begins to walk away from Bruce.
Bruce quickens his pace. He tracks him through the crowd losing him for an
instance or two as he himself makes his way through the crowd of people making
their way to their tables. The mysterious man reaches the end of the walkway that
lead to another set of stairs leading back down, he turns the opposite direction
though and walks down a small hallway. The figure stops in front of one of the
doors turning around to look back at Bruce before opening the door and entering.
Bruce watches the man enter the door and fully intends to follow him through when
all of a sudden from underneath the door where the man had just walked through, a
brilliant bright white light shines spilling out into the hallway from the cracks around
the door. This causes Bruce to stop, a look of wonder overcomes his face. He
reaches out for the doorknob and opens the door walking right into the brilliant
light. Blinded he shades his eyes with his hands and is quickly overcome with this
glorious feeling of warmth and comfort. A feeling he has not known since his
mother cradled him as a little boy. But even that does not compare to what he feels
now. It is an even more prevailing feeling then that. It washes over him completely,
it is a sensation that he has not quite ever known but at the same time a sensation
that seems so familiar and so right. Wanting it to not end he relishes in the
brilliance of the light removing his hands away from his eyes but just as quickly as it
came the light soon dies out and is gone. Bruce blinks a few times adjusting his
eyes. When he is able to see once again he stares into an empty storage room. No
sign of the man is there. Bruce does not even try to look around the boxes or
shelves, something tells him that he would not find anything anyway. He turns to
walk out noticing that his eyes have tears in them. He closes the door wipes at this
eyes and starts back towards the stairs. Just before going down he stops turns back
around one final time to look at the door, looking around he somehow knows that
no one else saw what he had just witnessed. He doesn’t know what to think but he
knows that on that lonely rainy night he was led into something that only he would
be able to put together. That mysterious car and that mysterious man had led him
to that warehouse to find that small insignificant clue that eventually led him to stop
the planned attempt on Mandy Stone’s life. Being the person he was he quickly
questioned the death of the young actress. Was her life more important than
Mandy’s? He knew he would never know the answer to that question and quickly
thought that maybe the question was not even his place to ask. Was there a
purpose in death? Would he have known of the plans to execute Mandy on stage in
a stabbing scene if he had not witnessed the young actress leave wearing the
costume of the jealous ex girlfriend that was to stab the character of Mandy Stone,
but not return? Only to see that the same costume was being worn by the strange
Japanese woman from Mandy’s entourage. If he had not witnessed that if he had
not been lead down this path, then Mandy would surely not be having dinner with
him this very night. He then thought of himself. Would he have been prepared to
take upon this task of the last few nights if he himself had not lost his own parents
in their untimely death? Was their purpose in death? He was beginning to think
there was. But this night he decided was not the time for thoughts like these. This
night was to celebrate life. And he fully intended to so. Walking back down the
stairs he hoped that Mandy had left at least a little of his food.

*******

Bruce walks into the large foyer of Wayne Manor a little tired from his date
with Mandy. Also still more than a little sore from his battle with the assassin.
Wearing his evening robe Alfred walks out of the hallway that leads to the kitchen
with a glass of milk and pound cake.
“Ah, Master Bruce, had an enjoyable evening did you”?
“Quite enjoyable, Alfred”.
“Glad to hear it sir”.
Alfred goes up the stairs heading for his bedroom. At the top of the stairs he looks
back down at Bruce.
“Anything on your mind sir”?
Alfred waits knowing that Bruce is collecting his thoughts.
“Alfred, do you believe in angels”?
“My my my, Master Bruce. First ghosts now angels”?
“Alfred I’m serious”.
“As a matter of fact Master Bruce I do. With all the evil in this world, with all
the pain that you see daily I have to believe that there is something redeeming in
this life. Something to look to in order to find peace in the chaos of this life”.
“Really Alfred, I never knew. Interesting. So wings and all? Are they not
supposed to have wings”, says Bruce making a little fun of Alfred in the process.
“As a matter of fact I am watching an old Cary Grant movie in my room this
very night. There was another movie that he starred in where he said to another
character, ‘The next time you walk down the street and glance at someone walking
past, you may be looking into the face of an angel.’
Bruce smiles, “Guardian angel huh”?
“There are stranger things Master Bruce. Come to think of it, that quote from
the movie is quite interesting. Think of it, that any person you see on the street
could be the very person keeping a watchful eye over you, the one keeping you safe.
A shame really, to not know the one that is out there safely keeping you from harm.
Would like to know who they are personally. Give them a good shake of the hand.
Really quite a shame we don’t get to know who they are”.
Bruce all the while listens intently smiling at the whimsical musings of his
old friend.
“Well Alfred I am truly a fortunate man then”.
“Beyond the obvious. How so”?
“I know who mine is”.
With that remark Bruce walks away towards one of the many entrances to the
Batcave. Alfred stands there a moment longer a warm and bright smile engulfs his
face. His eyes begin to sting as tears form. There are not a lot of moments where
he looks at Master Bruce and sees him as that little boy he once knew, they don’t
come very often. But this night he did not see a grown man walk out of the room,
he did not see the man who dons the batsuit walk out of the room. What Alfred saw
was the little boy he once knew.
Turning around Alfred walks away back to his room a truly happy man.

The End.

Deleted Scene

Batman double checks the display screen on the dash of the Batmobile,
turns it off then presses a button on the gear shifter which causes his body to jolt
backwards into the seat. The steel supports of the high rise bridge that he is now
traveling on go by in a blur. High above the city streets below onlookers in their cars
can barely catch a glimpse of the sleek black car as it zooms by. Removing his
hands from the steering wheel he readies himself. The Batmobile leaves the main
roadway turning off into a service area where construction is taking place to extend
the bridge to another area of the city. Just a hundred yards away the end of the
bridge comes ever closer and still the Batmobile speeds on.
“Now”, speaks Batman in a calm and clear voice.
Immediately the Batmobile’s super duty brakes lock the tires, in that same
brief moment as Batman’s body is pushed forward the canopy above him splits
apart with a strong blast of air. Batman’s seat also explodes up and out of the car
launching Batman far into the night sky. He grabs the edges of his cape and holds
them close to his body to prevent the cape from billowing out and slowing his
trajectory. Flying forward head first his legs are pressed together and straight back
cutting the air like a missile. As gravity begins to win the battle and push him back
toward the ground he expertly tucks his head into his stomach flipping so that his
feet now lead his body. Then extending his hands out to the sides he allows the
cape to catch the air slowing his decent.
*******

One of the two men guarding the entrance to a penthouse rubs at his eyes as
the other one lets out a silent yawn. Off in the distance they both hear the sound of
squealing tires, the only exciting thing that the two men have experienced all day
long. The two men return to there statuesque positions slowly awaiting the end of
their extremely boring shift.
Shortly thereafter, with a deafening crash, the huge window at the end of the
hall just beyond the elevator doors explodes. Pieces of glass large and small shoot
into the building. Amidst the flying glass Batman lands onto the marble floor with a
great thud, he skids across the floor his knees bent and his right hand trailing
behind him skimming the floor to balance his body. Batman’s momentum shoots
him down the small hallway towards the penthouse doors.
The two men do not have time to bring their tech nine’s up to bear. Their
hearts pound in their chests at the sudden unusual appearance; the sudden fear
has frozen them. Batman’s landing comes to and end as he impacts the door with
his left shoulder. Quickly shaking off the jarring that his body just received he rises
to his feet while flinging his left arm, which still has a hold of the outer edge of his
cape, towards the man on his right. The cape flies around distracting the armed
thug giving Batman just enough time to get to the other guard on his left.
Completing the movement of the distracting cape throw he turns and just barely is
able to bring up his left hand up under the thug’s gun hand redirecting the aim to
the ceiling. The tech nine comes alive delivering bursts of bullets up towards the
roof. With his right hand Batman drives the bottom of his palm and jabs up into the
bottom of the man’s chin lifting the man’s head up to the ceiling. He finishes the
man off with a sharp chop to the man’s exposed throat. The tech nine drops to the
floor, Batman leaves the man clutching at his throat gasping for breath. Turning
back to his right he delivers a left cross to the side of the other thug’s head following
it with a kick to the man’s gut knocking the air out of him. Both men lie defeated
on the floor before their minds can even begin to interpret what just happened to
them.
Batman looks at the two incapacitated men taking a few moments to
recover from his flight into the building. He easily takes the tech nine from the man
he just kicked and tosses it back towards the elevator.
 The thug coughs letting out sporadic maniacal laughs saying, “Stupid Bats,
dumb stupid Bats.” He stops coughing and looks up at Batman standing right over
him. “We ain’t got no way to get inside. We don’t have a key.” He finishes his rant
by spitting on Batman’s boot.
Batman leans over speaking right into the man’s ear, “I already have one.”

*******

Jimmie Morrettie comes out of his bedroom wearing a bath robe, he looks
around curiously for the cause of all the raucous. He follows the noise to the front
doors. The doors are knocked open and Jimmie watches as one of his guards hits
the ground and slides across the tile floor stopping at his feet.

In the darkness of his bedroom Jimmie Morretti lays upon a massage table
as he briskly receives the long deep thrusts to his lower back from a large massage
therapist. Candles throughout gently illuminate the room with their yellow glow.
Slow enchanting music plays softly in the background, Jimmie is just about to doze
off into an illustrious sleep, when the sound of what seems like breaking glass
causes him to be ripped away from his daze opening his eyes. Noticing the
therapist pause for a few moments before continuing the massage proves to him
that he was not imagining the sound he just heard. Opening his hand towards his
bed the therapist quickly retrieves Jimmie’s robe and helps to place it on him. He
starts for the door then feels the sharp pain in his neck and remembers his brace
with her aid places it back around his neck.
Coming out from his bedroom he walks by the bright kitchen lights squinting
his eyes, he walks enters the living room area where his two nephews sit on a couch
playing a video game on a large screen tv.
“Any of you two numbskulls know what that noise I just heard was?”
Ah, sorry Uncle Jimmie, we’ll turn down the volume.”
“Volume? Was that all that was your stupid video game?” He slaps one of
his nephews across the back of his head.
Unusual movement from out in the hall reaches Jimmie’s paranoid ears.
“Hey Hey Hey,” he says as he snaps three times, “turn the volume down. Did
you guys hear that hear