Alfred just
put his tablet on the table with dinner when he heard a bang. As he turned
towards Bruce, he saw him madly slapping his fist on the computer's console.
"Is
everything all right, Master Wayne?" the butler asked while setting the
table. He was used to Master Wayne eating his food here in the cave.
„NOTHING.
Not a single hint! And it's been two weeks now! And I got nothing! Absolutely
nothing. I've examined every little detail, and all I have is... 21 dead
bodies, “Bruce said, seeming extremely frustrated.
Bruce had
been working on this case for the last two weeks and was in despair. He still
didn't know who killed the Joker or his people. He had initially predicted
killer Croc, but he was sitting in Arkham at the moment and was definitely in his
high-security cell at that time. He had examined every trace of blood he could
have taken samples from. No abnormalities. Most of the rehearsals belonged to
the typical gangsters the joker surrounded himself with. Some others belonged
to people who hadn't been conspicuous until then. Nevertheless, Bruce had
followed every lead. And again and again into new dead ends. Luckily for him,
the massacre had caused all the other major players in Gotham to keep their
heads down. This gave him the time he needed for his research. Today he had
planned the containers. Especially the one with the noticeable scratches. He
had obtained the container through his usual channels and had it brought into
the Bat Cave. Whatever the 4 scratches made in the outer shell was, to say the
least, unusual. The computer analyzed the tracks again and again as wolf claws,
but this wolf would have been nearly 13 feet tall.
"12000
Shot!" he said grimly when Alfred put an Earl Grey on the table and looked
inquiringly. "That's how many shots those guys fired. An animal this size
should have gotten at least a dozen hits."
"But
you didn't find any trace of this wolf's blood, sir?" he asked curiously.
"Right,
Alfred." Replied Bruce and leaned back in his chair. "Even his people
aren't so bad at shooting. Besides, there's no such a big wolf. Personally, I'm
kind of guessing a... glove or something."
"We've
dealt with gigantic bat people, too, have we, sir? Could this be a new project
of Dr. Langstrom?"
Bruce
leaned back down and put his chin on his hand. It was clear that he was
thinking about this possibility. He had also had Langstrom in his sights. But
Langstrom was dead. At least that's what he thought. With a few quick commands
he made cross-references between all known details of Man-Bat and the tracks on
the container. The analysis was clear. Despite the enormous size of Man-Bat he
was not big enough and the claw marks did not fit together. It was only a 34%
match. Suddenly it beeped and he turned to the second monitor.
"Sir?"
asked Alfred curiously, although as always he managed to hide his curiosity
behind the British expression.
"A
micro-analysis of the cracks. There's no trace of DNA. And those tracks over
there. See that? “He asked and pointed to a metallurgical analysis. “That means
the metal was ripped with something sharper than a scalpel. And the refraction
rate indicates a pressure of 30 kilo-newton. That's three tons."
"So
the killer is not a human being, sir?"
"No
way, no. Superman or Wonder Woman would be able to build up that kind of
pressure. But Diana doesn't have such long fingernails, „he grinned and Alfred
nodded.
"But
if there are no foreign traces of metal or DNA..."
Bruce
nodded and leaned back.
"Right.
How was this container torn apart? I even scanned it for traces of energy. I
wanted to compare it with the energy signatures of Green Lantern or Star
Sapphires but there are no traces of external energy. I have no idea what else
to do, Alfred. What am I missing? „He asked and turned to his oldest and
closest friend.
"Sir.
Maybe they're on the wrong track. You're trying to solve this murder
scientifically. To fathom him according to your point of view. But how did one
of your childhood heroes say? If all possibilities have been ruled out,
whatever remains, unlikely as it may be, the solution?"
"Sherlock
Holmes." Nicked Bruce. "You suspect a supernatural power?"
"Yes,
sir. This area is not particularly convenient for you because of your logical
worldview."
Bruce
nodded and sighed again. "And it's just now that Zatanna is on the road.
She'll be back in Gotham in two weeks. Maybe I should go to dinner with her sometime?
„Bruce asked Bruce with a smile.
"I'm
sure she'd like that. You should take a bath first, sir."
"As
soon as I'm done with these analyses, Alfred. And if possible. You got any more
yesterday's lasagna?"
Just as
Alfred wanted to answer, a warning symbol appeared on one of the monitors. When
Bruce opened the file he saw a live report about a death ship in the Bay of
Gotham. Bruce took a closer look at the pictures. Vicky Vale was the lead
reporter and, as always, she was the first one to arrive at the scene. She
reported about the container ship that had hit port a few hours ago. The entire
crew was dead, all 19 Crewmen died quickly and surprisingly. Even though Vicky
didn't give any exact details, it quickly became clear that it was a ghost
ship.
"Well,
wonderful. Alfred sighed, but Bruce was already entering the ship's data into
the computer.
"The
ship belongs to a Turkish shipping company. It was put into service 14 years
ago and normally runs the route Turkey / Metropolis. It started 19 days ago in
Istanbul. The goods are... moment... nothing special ", Bruce only said
and closed the window again. “The positive thing is that maybe the whole thing
will finally drive the joker murder out of the papers for a few hours."
"Are
you sure about that? This event has been reported continuously for the last 2
weeks. The crime rate has dropped by 75%. Even the simple pickpocketing has
decreased significantly. If it goes on like this, maybe you can finally take a vacation,
„Alfred joked with the typical dry British humour.
"That's
just the silence before Storm Alfred. Right now, they're all scared of what
this has done. The big boys are afraid they might be on the hit list
themselves. And the smaller ones... well... you know how paranoid they are.
There are even rumors that it was me."
"Sir.
Everybody knows you'd never kill anyone!"
"Yes,
everyone knows that. And yet... Somebody killed him and achieved more in one
night than I did in 10 years. Look at the numbers. What did you say? 75% less
crimes? How many times have I brought him to Arkham? If I'd gotten rid of him
the first time, how many lives would I have saved?"
"Sir.
I've been serving them for a long time now. I always helped them when they
started all this. But believe me. If they had done that, if you would have made
yourself a judge.... I would have resigned immediately. You never gave up your
ideals. No matter how bad the odds were. Whoever did this will get his fair punishment?
I don't want to deny that I do not regret the fact that the Joker is dead, but
he doesn't deserve such an end. Are you gonna do something about the ship,
sir?"
"I
don't think so. It has nothing to do with my current case. Bruce Wayne also
pays a lot of money for the police being well equipped or?"he asked
smiling and took a piece of lasagna as he looked at the screen again and paused
for a moment. His eyes narrowed as if he had noticed a detail. Still chewing,
he enlarged parts of one of the pictures and digitally processed it.
"Did
you find anything, sir?" Alfred asked curiously.
Still
chewing, Bruce nodded and pointed with the fork at the screen where you could
see one of the bodies that was apparently sitting at the card game. Alfred took
a closer look at the umbrella but had no idea what his master had found there.
"Excuse
me, sir. But I can't see what you mean."
"These
men didn't die a natural death. Vicky says they died quickly. But this one kept
his playing cards in his hand after all? The body looks like she's been
completely dehydrated. Unfortunately, I cannot increase the resolution. But
something's not right. Alfred! Put the lasagne in the microwave! I'm going
out!"said Bruce when he got up. Taking a last bite, he pulled the mask
over his head and headed for his vehicles. He opted for the jet today once and
nodded Alfred just to the start sequence for the engines. Once again Bruce had
to acknowledge that his old friend knew him well. As soon as he sat in the jet,
he activated the pre-launch sequence and the autopilot for takeoff. Thanks to
the catapult launch system, it was catapulted out of the cave at 900 km/h. The
start through the waterfall was always a kick for him. When he reached the
altitude, he took over the controls himself.
"Take
control here, Alfred. You can retire tonight. I don't think I need your
services today. I wish you a good night,"he said and tore the stick
around. The elegantly shaped fighter jet turned suddenly to the side and cut
through the darkness. He could not resist the urge and pulled the stick to
himself. With a loud shriek, the jet pulled up and thanks to the booster,
Batman accelerated to double the speed of sound. The supersonic bang would be
heard all over Gotham, reminding the darker elements of the city that Batman
was still there. As the centrifugal forces dragged him, he broke through the
cloud cover and had a magnificent view of the rising moon. Those were the few moments
when even Bruce felt peace. He pushed the accelerator lever back and let the
speed drop back to subsonic and let the jet tip off towards the harbour. He
approached the harbour across the sea and flew towards the pier in a low-flying
flight. With such a small distance above the water, the Bat-Wing drew a huge
water fountain behind it. Shortly before the ship he abruptly tore at the
steering stick and accelerated again. While the jet was still shooting at a 90°
angle, he activated the ejection systems. Bruce sucked in the air sharply as he
was loaded with over 10G for a few seconds. Even though the suit absorbed a
large part of the load, he felt the weight clearly on his body. As soon as he
left the jet he spread his arms and activated the capes memory system. Thanks
to the small electronic charge, the Cape immediately took on the pre-programmed
shape. Slowly he glided through the darkness and landed in the back of the
ship, near the bridge.
As soon as
he was on board he moved silently through the shadows to avoid possible dock
workers. However, none of the workers were on board and so he could move
freely. The corpses had already been taken away by the authorities and so he
could hardly do anything useful on board the ship. He pulled the grappling hook
out of his belt and fired him at a nearby warehouse. There was the dock
manager's office. He wanted to have the ship's manifest, but for once he was
really unlucky. As soon as he pulled himself on the roof, he looked directly
into the face of a completely frightened man.
"Ba...
Batman?" the frightened man asked and watched Batman build up in front of
him.
"I'm
here about the ship." he said, looking down on the about five foot tall
man.
"Maybe
I can help. I'm Erik Philippsen. I'm running the dock here. If you have any
questions... Mr. Batman, sir?"
Shortly
afterwards, Batman had the entire ship's manifest in his hands. Philippsen was
extremely helpful and had given him access to all documents. He assured Batman
that he himself had made sure that the police could inspect the entire shipment
before releasing it. He himself had no idea that he had deleted a certain part
of the cargo before, which didn't show up on any of the loading lists anyway.
After an hour of searching, Batman broke off the whole thing and returned to
the villa. After all, Bruce Wayne had to deal with Gotham's high society
tomorrow at the annual festival in Wayne Manor. After all, the donations
benefited those in need in Gotham.