Batman

PREVIOUSLY: A mysterious entity known as the Crimesmith masterminds a series of high-class crimes in Gotham City. Batman tracks down and captures the previous Crimesmith, but the crime spree continues unabated.

The Sionis Corporation, once the domain of the criminal Black Mask, sees a new CEO rise to power, and attempts to enter into business relations with Wayne Enterprises.

While in the midst of pursuing a serial killer, Batman and Batgirl receive a summons from a mysterious woman long thought dead – the pale-white sometime-criminal known as Nocturna.

“I thought you were dead. We all.. thought you were dead.” Batman’s voice betrayed surprise mixed with irritation.

Nocturna seemed to glide across the observatory’s stone floors, her pale white skin illuminated by the moonlight. She wore her trademark long black dress, unusual attire for an astronomer, but customary for her. “You sound almost.. disappointed.”

Batgirl was transfixed by the image of the ghostly woman coming toward them. Batman’s response roused her from her reverie.

“Not disappointed, Natalia. But surprised. We looked for you. There was no trace.”

“Then you must not have looked in the right places, Bruce.” Batgirl was surprised at Nocturna’s use of Batman’s real name. Nocturna surveyed Batman carefully, and Batgirl could almost feel him retreat into his cape. She wondered who this Nocturna was, that she could exert such an effect on her mentor.

Nocturna seemed to sense Batgirl’s discomfort. She turned toward her. “And who.. might you be?” she asked.

Batman spoke before Batgirl could reply. “She’s Batgirl.”

Nocturna appraised her. “Indeed.”

“Natalia. Nocturna. You contacted me and asked me to be here. I’m here, and I’m taking time away from a murder investigation. Why did you call me?”

Nocturna spun on her heels and began to walk away. “Such a frosty reception. Has time dulled your appreciation for..”

“Enough.” Batman cut her off. “I don’t need to listen to a soliloquy. If there is something you need, out with it. If not..”

“I merely,” Nocturna seemed hurt. “Wanted to let you know I’m alive, and.. see you.”

Batman’s voice softened. “I’m glad to hear you’re alive, Natalia. If you need anything, you know where to find me.” To Batgirl: “Let’s go.”

Batgirl’s gaze lingered on Nocturna as Batman walked away. Her back was turned, and she appeared to have shrunken into herself. But as if she was aware of Batgirl’s eyes on her, Nocturna turned around and met her gaze. A half-smile formed at her lips. Batgirl looked away quickly, embarrassed to have been caught. Neither of them spoke, and Batgirl hurried to join her departing mentor.

Allen had gotten the assignment of checking out Miranda Ross’ workplace. The deceased had been employed by Video Mutt, a chain video store. Video Mutt managed to compete with Blockbuster and the other large chains by offering something they didn’t – a small collection of adult and pornographic movies. It didn’t attract the best clientele in town, but Video Mutt was a respected establishment, and it had opened eight stores throughout Gotham City and its suburbs.

The store had just opened for the day when Allen arrived. An older man who appeared to be the manager was hunched over a desk with a hand-held calculator, probably tallying the previous day’s receipts. A single clerk, a young overweight brunette, stood behind the counter watching a series of movie previews on an overhead television screen. One customer patrolled the back of the store, not yet ready to check out.

Allen showed his badge to the manager, who introduced himself as Bob Days. As professionally as he could, Allen broke the news of Miranda Ross’ death. Days’ face went white, and he wished Montoya was with him. She was a much better “people person” than he was. Days sank into a chair, his hand to his mouth, his face registering a look of shock. “How.. do you know..?”

“We don’t.” Allen answered the question before it was finished, careful to keep his voice down. “That’s why I’m here. We’ve spoken to Miranda’s family, but not many of her friends or associates.”

“She’d been working here for almost a year.” Days struggled to regain his composure, and his shock seemed genuine. “She was a very.. a very nice girl. Very good employee. I’m sorry, Detective, I’m just.. I don’t know what to say.”

“Did Ms. Ross work yesterday?”

“Yes, she did. I was on duty yesterday, too. Miranda got off at..” he scanned a calendar on his desk. “8:00. Oh wait, I think I sent her home a few minutes early.”

“Any particular reason?”

“Not in particular. I think she came in a few minutes early yesterday morning.”

“Was Ms. Ross social with any of the other employees?”

Days thought for a minute. “Well, she was close to Laney.” He motioned at the brunette, who was oblivious to their conversation. “And she was friends with several others in the store. She got along pretty well with just about everybody.”

“What about male employees?”

“Sure. Other than myself, we have..” Again he checked something on his desk. “Five male cashiers. Well, four. We just let one go. Four. She was friends with all of them, I think..”

“Anything more than that?”

“Not that I know of.” Days looked over at Laney again. “Oh god, someone’s got to tell Laney what’s happened. Would you.. do you mind..?” Allen sighed his assent. They headed over to the cashier’s desk together, Allen bracing himself for the inevitable tears.

Batgirl peeled off her mask to munch on the snacks Alfred had prepared. He always delighted in her zeal to eat his food, while Bruce ignored it. “And how went the evening, Miss Cassandra?”

Cassie looked over at Bruce, who was headed for his computers. She wondered if he was out of earshot. “Alfred.. who is.. Nocturna?”

Recognition flooded Alfred’s eyes. “Ah, Miss Cassandra. Now I understand Master Bruce’s mood.

“Nocturna was a stylish criminal who was active in Gotham several years ago. She was aided and abetted by a partner known as the Night-Thief. Eventually the Night-Thief became unhinged and re-dubbed himself the Night-Slayer. Nocturna turned her attentions to Batman, and professed to have reformed. The Night-Slayer made it his mission to murder Nocturna, and murdered many of her associates in his hunt.

“It all came to a head in a cataclysmic battle at Ms. Knight’s observatory during the event Master Bruce and his colleagues refer to as ‘The Crisis’. Nocturna was severely wounded and cast adrift in a hot-air balloon, which was destroyed by violent weather. Ms. Knight was presumed dead, her body never recovered. Apparently, rumors of her death were, as they say, exaggerated.”

“She.. knows. About Batman.”

“Yes. Ms. Knight is aware of Master Bruce’s dual identity. For a brief while she was the legal guardian of Jason Todd.” Cassie looked over at the display case containing Jason’s Robin uniform.

“She was.. his mother?”

“Not exactly, young miss. But she tried to be, for a brief time. Jason had some.. maternal affection for Ms. Knight. I wonder if she’s aware of his.. passing.”

Cassie’s eyes stayed fixed on the display case. She thought of Nocturna’s smile.

Detective Allen sagged in his desk chair as Renee Montoya entered the office, looking equally bereft. They greeted each other with a glance, and Montoya half-smiled. “You’re not looking so great today, Cris.”

Allen took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Long day.”

“Tell me.”

“Well, I’ve got pretty much nothing on Miranda. Everyone likes her. Everyone thinks she’s a sweet girl. She doesn’t have any major enemies. She didn’t have a boyfriend, didn’t date much.” Allen pondered his speech pattern. “God, I never know whether to refer to murder victims in the present or past tense.” Putting back on his glasses and looking at Montoya. “I was hoping you’d had more luck.”

Montoya’s disappointed face told the story, but she filled him in anyway, for what it was worth. She’d struck out as well, interviewing her share of Miranda’s family members and known associates. “If I didn’t know better,” she said as she finished, “I’d think this was a random thing.”

Allen shook his head. “Nope; this isn’t random. No way he gets in her apartment unless he’s someone she knows.”

“Pizza guy, maybe? Someone like that?”

“I thought about that; checked her phone records. No calls on home or mobile lines the night of the murder. If she called from a payphone or at work, we’ll never run it down. No records of any maintenance being done in her building, or anything of that nature, either.”

Behind the detectives, a tiny bug recorded and broadcasted their conversation. No one in the GCPD was aware of the presence of this bug, or the seven others scattered throughout the precinct. It was virtually undetectable, but recorded every word of the detectives’ conversation and transmitted it..

Bruce listened to the recording from his post in the Batcave. Jim Gordon probably wouldn’t like it if he knew that Batman had bugged the squad room, but he’d found it too good a source of information over the years to pass up. The taps gave Batman unparalleled insight into and access to major investigations.

He’d thought of leaving the investigation into Miranda Ross’ murder in the capable hands of the GCPD. It was hard for him to let go of a case after he’d seen the body, but he knew Allen and Montoya were excellent detectives, and would solve the case left to their own devices. That would free him to concentrate on his investigation of the Crimesmith, and his growing suspicion of Warren Inton and the Sionis Corporation.

However, it looked as if Montoya and Allen found themselves at a dead end. Batman could see what they were overlooking, and he knew they’d figure it out eventually, but in the meantime a serial killer could be preparing to strike again.

With Oracle’s help, Bruce hacked into several databases, including the records of the Employment Security Commission. His sophisticated computers began the task of performing the cross-referencing analysis he would require.

His suspicions tentatively confirmed, Bruce dialed Jim Gordon’s direct line, and provided him with the clue needed to crack the murder of Miranda Ross.

Batgirl crept quietly through the observatory, taking care to avoid detection. She was fixated on the ghostly figure manning the main telescope.

“You can come out of the shadows.” Nocturna spoke without turning around, and Batgirl was flabbergasted. Other than Batman and her “father”, Cain, no one had ever been able to detect her presence unless she wished.

Nocturna stood and slowly descended the steps to the telescope. It was as if she was gliding to the floor. Batgirl was chilly even in her costume, but Nocturna seemed unaffected by the temperature.

Abandoning her subterfuge, Batgirl slowly slid from the shadows. Nocturna approached her, flashing the same smile she’d shown the night before. Batgirl felt as if Nocturna could see right through her.

“I don’t think we were properly introduced last night.” Nocturna said, extending her right arm. “I am Natalia Knight.”

Tentatively, Batgirl took Nocturna’s hand and shook it. “Cassandra.”

“That’s a lovely name. Did Batman send you here, or did you come of your own volition?”

“I came.. alone.” Batgirl expected Nocturna to ask why, but she didn’t. Instead, she stood silent, waiting for Batgirl to fill the gap. Batgirl wasn’t used to being expected to carry a conversation. “Alfred told me about you.”

Nocturna smiled. “How is Alfred?”

“Fine. Do you.. know.. about Jason?”

The smile disappeared, a sadness covering Nocturna’s visage. Batgirl thought she saw a tear stream down her face. “Yes; I’m afraid so. I read about it when it occurred. He was a good boy. He deserved a better fate.”

“You.. loved him?”

Nocturna thought for a moment. “Yes, I suppose I did. My motives for adopting Jason were selfish, but I enjoyed his company, and before long I wanted to be his mother, and for him to be my son.”

She regarded Batgirl. “Tell me, Cassandra. Do you have parents of your own?”

Batgirl thought of Cain and the anger she felt toward him. She wondered who her mother was. “No.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. You’re a lot like Jason, a lost lamb trying to find a place in the world. It’s sad to have to do that alone.” As if remembering something: “Cassandra, I’m going to have to excuse myself. I have work that needs to be done. I have enjoyed our talk, though. Please feel free to stop by anytime you would like. Will you do that?”

“Yes.”

Montoya was in a hurry as she headed back to Allen’s desk. Allen was buried in a pile of reports, and looked up with surprise as she approached. “Cris! We got a break.”

Allen looked at her skeptically. “We did?”

“We need to make a few calls. Did you pull the files on Teresa Kristian and Dana Plota?”

“The other two vics? I’m sure they’re available. Why?”

“Did we interview their employers?”

Allen struggled to remember. “Pretty sure we did. One of them was flipping burgers; the other one was a temp.”

“Medical secretary at the time, right? What other temp jobs did she have?”

“Off the top of my head? I dunno. Let’s check the files.”

They had them within five minutes. As Allen recalled, Kristian had worked at Burger King. Plota was employed through a temp service and assigned to Dr. Brashear’s office. She’d only been there three days when she was murdered. Her last prior assignment had been with Old Navy, where she worked for a month while another employee was out on maternity leave. Both employers had been interviewed, but neither interview had yielded any telling clues.

“Okay.” Montoya said after they’d confirmed the facts. “We need to find out if either Burger King or Old Navy fired anyone, or had anyone quit, right around the time of the murders. If so, we need names.”

“Oooo-kay.” Allen replied skeptically. “And this is relevant because..”

“The perp is meeting these women through their employment. He’s a random acquaintance who makes friends with them, gains their trust, and uses it to get into their apartments. Then he kills them and starts looking for another vic. But here’s the trick – if he starts killing lots of women in the same business, suspicion will fall on the other employees, and he’ll be found out. So after each kill, he quits or gets fired. No one thinks anything of it, because all these jobs have high turnover anyway. He may even be using an alias, in case we get employee lists (which we didn’t).”

Allen’s interview with Bob Days. What was it he said? “Other than myself, we have five male cashiers. Well, four. We just let one go. Four.” The pieces fell into place, and a chill ran down his spine. “How did you figure all this out?” he asked Montoya.

“Anonymous tip. Pointed us in the right direction.”

Allen harrumphed. Anonymous tip. Sure.

The customer lists, obtained early the next morning, yielded paydirt. The first two lists each listed a Zane Kresp. The list from Video Mutt didn’t list Kresp. He’d gotten smarter, used an alias. But it had been too little too late. Both Burger King and Old Navy confirmed that Kresp had been discharged around the times of the first two murders. Days confirmed that an employee he knew as Eric Fromme had been fired two days before Miranda’s murder. Yes, they’d been friendly, nothing romantic, Days said, although he thought “Fromme” might have had a crush on her. Yes, come to think of it, “Fromme” had been hanging around the store the day of the murder. At the time he’d dismissed it as a sad attempt to get laid.

“Fromme” had to supply an address to send his last paycheck. It was a post office box. He’d given addresses at Burger King and Old Navy, but those both turned out to be fakes. No other way to find him but to scout the post office box, they concluded, and stakeouts were arranged. Montoya dutifully passed along the details to Commissioner Gordon as the investigation proceeded.

“Any idea where Batgirl is tonight?” asked Bruce as he stared at the computer screen. Oracle’s face looked back at him.

“Haven’t heard from her,” said Babs. “You tried her cave?”

“Yes. Not there. I’m concerned she’s out at the observatory.”

“Nocturna’s observatory? Why would she be there?”

“She’s been sneaking out there. She’s forming some kind of relationship with Nocturna.”

“Isn’t Nocturna a criminal?”

“Reformed. As far as I know.”

“As far as you know..”

“Still,” Bruce paused. “Not healthy for her. Not sure what the attraction is.”

“Really, Bruce? You really find it odd that a girl who has never had a mother figure wants to be around a Madonna-type who’s looking for someone to mother?”

“What have you got for me?” The change of conversation was abrupt.

Babs winced inwardly. “I get extra brownie points for this one, boss. I did some digging. The post office box was paid for with a money order, as you know.” Bruce nodded, having obtained said money order the night before through extralegal means. “The money order was purchased at a Bank of America over in Tricorner. GCPD couldn’t get a warrant for the bank’s customer list, but I got it. A customer named ‘Drew Springer’ recently opened an account at B of A using the same address Zane Kresp gave to Old Navy.”

“Which is a fake.”

“Which is a fake. But DMV records show that a driver’s license was recently issued to ‘Drew Springer’ with a different address. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Of course he was. The killer was setting up a new identity so he could stalk again. Before Babs could finish her sentence, Bruce was out of his chair, pulling on the cape and cowl. “Call me in the car with the address. And keep trying to reach Batgirl.”

Tonight she hadn’t entered the observatory. Batgirl had visited last night, and she didn’t want to impose. She just wanted to keep an eye of things, to make sure her new friend was okay. So she sat in the trees hundreds of yards away, and kept vigil.

Nocturna saw her and smiled. For the first time in a long time, she felt needed.

“Drew” had said goodbye to Jennifer Saddox a half-hour earlier. He’d thought of inviting her to his apartment, but that would break the rules. None of them could visit him; only vice-versa. And he didn’t know Jennifer well enough yet to invite himself to her place.

He was getting there, though. She liked him, maybe more than as a friend. He might get into her place sooner than later.

“Drew” was hardly a trained professional. If he was, he’d have noticed the shadows out of place when he entered his darkened apartment.

“Hello, Zane.” Batman had considered simply sneaking up behind Kresp and using knockout gas on him, but then he’d thought of Miranda’s lifeless form. Batman was usually very careful not to take pleasure in doling out violent punishment, and told himself daily that he didn’t enjoy the violence inherent in his work. But he couldn’t deny that some perps – some killers – deserved physical punishment. Simply knocking him out and having him wake up in jail wasn’t good enough. And he needed to know the answer to one more question.

Zane was only startled momentarily, then his shoulders fell. He was caught, and he knew it.

“GCPD is on the way,” said Batman resolutely. “Before they arrive, I want to know why. I want to know why you killed those girls.”

Zane shrugged his shoulders. “Just.. because.”

The shrug horrified Batman more than any explanation could have. “Why?” he asked again.

Zane acted as if he would answer, then an evil glint filled his eye. Letting out a primal scream, he raced toward Batman’s shadowed figure.

He had no chance. Batman braced himself, sidestepped the attack. He grabbed both of Zane’s arms in his right hand, and decked him with the left. A tooth flew from Zane’s mouth, and he sagged to the floor unconscious.

Frustrated, Batman tied his captive, prepared to leave him for the police. Oracle’s voice over his headset interrupted him.

“Batman, I just got into Kresp’s juvie records. He assaulted two girls as a minor. Psych evaluation revealed he was sexually abused by his mother.”

Batman thought of the violent cuts to Miranda Ross, obviously the product of rage. Rage that could only be expressed after the victim was dead. Rage that was the product of a twisted and fractured psyche. He thought of Batgirl, camped outside Nocturna’s observatory.

Batman had just swung off into the night when Montoya and Allen knocked down the apartment’s door.

The End...

Previous Issue | Next Issue