man was murdered downtown, with an arrow that was apparently shot from as much as three hundred yards away.
“There are reports that Batman met with Gotham City Police Commissioner James Gordon this morning, and then went to Arkham City. This is where it gets tricky because we can’t verify it, but if you were listening just now you heard Joey from Midtown say that Batman was inside the old Gotham Merchant’s Bank, and when he came out he was talking to someone—who, we don’t know—and they were talking about another murder.
“Not
a
murder.
Another
murder, as in, related to the arrow murder downtown. So Batman knows something we don’t, people. He knows there’s a connection between those murders, and so does whoever he was talking to.
“You want my guess about who that was? Commissioner… James… Gordon.
“We’ll be back after this.”
8
Typical headstrong Robin—ready–fire–aim. Batman hoped it didn’t get them into trouble, and hoped he’d read the chess puzzle correctly. They wouldn’t know until Tim got back to the central room and assessed his next move.
This troubled him, the way it always troubled him when Robin seized on the first course of action and plunged ahead. Even worse, if the Riddler
had
expected Robin, he would also be expecting Robin’s aggressive approach. More than likely he had built that anticipation into his planning.
Either way, there was nothing to be done about it now.
Damn it.
Pulling the tooth he’d recovered from a compartment in his Utility Belt, he approached Alfred, who greeted him with an expression of concern.
“If you don’t mind my saying so, Master Bruce, you look a bit seared and blackened.” He studied the damage Batman had sustained. “I trust all goes according to plan?”
“Depends on whose plan you mean, Alfred,” Batman replied. He took off his cowl, and was Bruce again. “Someone left a welcoming committee for me in the bank vault. It definitely appears to be the Riddler, and he has Robin dancing to his tune, as well. He’s keeping both of us occupied, leaving him free to commit whatever crime he has in mind.”
“And what might that be, sir?”
“That’s what I’m hoping to find out,” Bruce said. He held up the tooth. “This is our latest clue, such as it is.” He moved to a lab table he kept reserved for chemical analysis, and set the tooth down. He didn’t do much of that sort of study, but maintained facilities necessary for just about any conceivable path of investigation. In this case, however, there might be a simpler way to proceed.
The most straightforward way to identify the tooth would be to place it in a three-dimensional imaging array, get a good picture of it, and run that picture through a database of teeth from all of the recognized animal species. The imager only took seconds to capture a good likeness, and then Bruce connected to the database at Gotham University’s biology program. That, in turn, linked to every major educational database, from Ohio State to Oxford. He entered a matching query and waited while the program compared the tooth to the thousands of different tooth types encountered across the animal kingdom.
“If I may say so, sir,” Alfred commented. “This is a bit of an unusual prologue for the Riddler, is it not? It seems we have three separate paths along which to follow him.”
“That we do, Alfred,” Bruce said. “The trick is figuring out how they’re related, and then figuring out where he’s made a mistake.”
“If he has made a mistake, Master Bruce,” Alfred countered. “What if he has not?”
“He always does sooner or later, Alfred. If he didn’t, he’d be perfect and I’d have been dead a long time ago.”
Suddenly the computer chimed.
NO MATCH
“Curiouser and curiouser,” Alfred said.
Bruce broadened the search to include similar features. The tooth he was working with was about six inches long and an inch and a half thick at its base, slightly curved,
“There are reports that Batman met with Gotham City Police Commissioner James Gordon this morning, and then went to Arkham City. This is where it gets tricky because we can’t verify it, but if you were listening just now you heard Joey from Midtown say that Batman was inside the old Gotham Merchant’s Bank, and when he came out he was talking to someone—who, we don’t know—and they were talking about another murder.
“Not
a
murder.
Another
murder, as in, related to the arrow murder downtown. So Batman knows something we don’t, people. He knows there’s a connection between those murders, and so does whoever he was talking to.
“You want my guess about who that was? Commissioner… James… Gordon.
“We’ll be back after this.”
8
Typical headstrong Robin—ready–fire–aim. Batman hoped it didn’t get them into trouble, and hoped he’d read the chess puzzle correctly. They wouldn’t know until Tim got back to the central room and assessed his next move.
This troubled him, the way it always troubled him when Robin seized on the first course of action and plunged ahead. Even worse, if the Riddler
had
expected Robin, he would also be expecting Robin’s aggressive approach. More than likely he had built that anticipation into his planning.
Either way, there was nothing to be done about it now.
Damn it.
Pulling the tooth he’d recovered from a compartment in his Utility Belt, he approached Alfred, who greeted him with an expression of concern.
“If you don’t mind my saying so, Master Bruce, you look a bit seared and blackened.” He studied the damage Batman had sustained. “I trust all goes according to plan?”
“Depends on whose plan you mean, Alfred,” Batman replied. He took off his cowl, and was Bruce again. “Someone left a welcoming committee for me in the bank vault. It definitely appears to be the Riddler, and he has Robin dancing to his tune, as well. He’s keeping both of us occupied, leaving him free to commit whatever crime he has in mind.”
“And what might that be, sir?”
“That’s what I’m hoping to find out,” Bruce said. He held up the tooth. “This is our latest clue, such as it is.” He moved to a lab table he kept reserved for chemical analysis, and set the tooth down. He didn’t do much of that sort of study, but maintained facilities necessary for just about any conceivable path of investigation. In this case, however, there might be a simpler way to proceed.
The most straightforward way to identify the tooth would be to place it in a three-dimensional imaging array, get a good picture of it, and run that picture through a database of teeth from all of the recognized animal species. The imager only took seconds to capture a good likeness, and then Bruce connected to the database at Gotham University’s biology program. That, in turn, linked to every major educational database, from Ohio State to Oxford. He entered a matching query and waited while the program compared the tooth to the thousands of different tooth types encountered across the animal kingdom.
“If I may say so, sir,” Alfred commented. “This is a bit of an unusual prologue for the Riddler, is it not? It seems we have three separate paths along which to follow him.”
“That we do, Alfred,” Bruce said. “The trick is figuring out how they’re related, and then figuring out where he’s made a mistake.”
“If he has made a mistake, Master Bruce,” Alfred countered. “What if he has not?”
“He always does sooner or later, Alfred. If he didn’t, he’d be perfect and I’d have been dead a long time ago.”
Suddenly the computer chimed.
NO MATCH
“Curiouser and curiouser,” Alfred said.
Bruce broadened the search to include similar features. The tooth he was working with was about six inches long and an inch and a half thick at its base, slightly curved,
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