Issue #1
"The Age of Greatness"
Part 1
By Andrew Morgan
"In Greek mythology the Titans were a race of powerful deities, descendants of Gaia that ruled during the legendary Golden Age."
Central Park
New York City, NY
The early morning dew was resting on leafs of the trees as the sun peeked its rays out from behind the clouds. The birds were chirping and squirrels were frolicking. It was beautiful morning for a stroll in the park. The problem was that wasn't why Detective Banks was called to roll out of bed and make his way down there. He patted his graying hair down on the top of his head and wiped his grisly unshaven beard to make himself presentable and not look like he had just woken up. "What do we got?" he muttered as he passed under the yellow police tape and walked down the slope away from the path.
"Her name was Sarah Kinsmith. 16 year old girl, Caucasian, multiple stab wounds the chest and torso." The coroner reported.
"Great," Banks replied sarcastically. "Has anyone notified the family?"
"Of course not, we always make sure to save the best part of the job for you." replied the coroner as if the two were old friends.
The old school detective circled Sarah's lifeless body. She had been wearing a white tank top with spaghetti straps that hadn't been ripped or damaged by anything other than the five cuts going the center and into the young woman's body. She was wearing blue jeans that hadn't been opened but were dirty from lying on the ground all night. "Time of death?" Banks requested.
"I won't know for sure until after an autopsy but off the top of my head I'd say about midnight." Replied the coroner.
Banks then noticed her shoes, they were both still on her feet. Even though he wasn't looking at them for fashion he couldn't help but notice how they looked like slippers. Fashion these days, he thought to himself. He didn't understand why girls now a day wore such loose fitting footwear. His main focus though was looking for bruises or cuts that would be an indication of a struggle, but there was none. "So what did our killer of the week leave us as a calling card?" he asked.
"So far nothing, no prints, no hair strands, not even a foot print." The coroner stated as pulled out his camera and started to take pictures of the body.
Gotham Academy for Higher Education
Gotham City, NJ
Two days later the detective finds himself sitting in the office of Ms. Applebee, the dean of The Gotham Academy for Higher Education. "The pen pal project was something we had the freshmen class start at the beginning of the year. Usually the kids send letters back and forth for a couple of weeks but eventually they lose interest. I'm shocked to learn that Mr. Grayson has continued his projects for so many months." Stated Ms. Applebee. She was a middle aged woman in her late forties, and slightly attractive from Detective Banks point of view. He was surprised at how polite her demeanor was. Most prep school deans are just pains in the ass, trying to protect the parents of their students from any kind of legal litigation. But this babe is pretty nice. He thought to himself while he adjusted his the gig line of his button up shirt and pants. A few more minutes alone with this woman and he would have been completely smitten.
"So can I speak with him?" The detective asked.
"Certainly," She responded. "After you called me earlier I called Mr. Wayne to inform him of the situation. Unfortunately he's out of town at the moment but is sending a Mr Pennyworth down in his stead. He should be arriving shortly."
"Mr. Wayne?" The detective replied. "As in Bruce Wayne?" I knew the kid had to be loaded to afford to go to school like this but I didn't think he had that kind of financial backing. I better watch what I say in here or I'll end up with an army of lawyers up my bum.
"One and the same!" Ms Applebee stated.
There was a knock at the door before it was opened without any permission to enter. It was Ms Applebee's secretary, "Ma'am Mr. Pennyworth is here."
"Send him in and please go get Dick Grayson from his class." Ms Applebee requested.
As the secretary walked back out of the office in walked a tall older gentleman. "Thank you my dear." he said to the secretary as she left. The secretary turned and smiled as she walked away. She had always loved men with British accents. His name was Alfred Pennyworth and all though he had grown up in England he had spent the past two decades in Gotham City, but the tidy old traditions of back home never left him. His hair was short gray and white, his face was smooth shaven, his clothes were fancy, and all though he would never look down upon anyone he always held his chin high. "Good after noon Ms Applebee," he said as he walked over to detective Banks and motioned to shake his hand. "Alfred Pennyworth," he introduced himself to the uncertain detective.
"Detective John Banks," replied the ruffled man.
"Mr. Pennyworth is Mr. Wayne's butler," explained Ms Applebee.
"Butler," Banks stuttered out confused on why such a rich powerful man would send his butler to handle such a matter.
"Oh Ms Applebee I consider myself to be much more than just Master Bruce's butler. I'm more of his go to guy, the person that gets things done while he's otherwise preoccupied." Alfred explained. A moment later there was a tap at the door.
"Come in!" hollered Ms Applebee. The door swung open and on the other side stood the teenage Dick Grayson. Grayson was in peak physical condition all though you couldn't tell it under the school uniforms he had to wear. His hair was combed over to the side because all of the students were expected to maintain a certain image. An image that the 14 year old boy hated to put on.
"You wanted to see me?" Grayson asked as he walked in first glancing at Ms Applebee behind her desk, then Alfred standing across the room, and finally staring at the detective standing in the middle of them.
"Yes come in Mr. Grayson please have a seat." The dean requested. "This is detective Banks from New York City, he'd like to ask you some questions if that's alright?"
"Questions about what?" The boy asked as he walked in and sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. The three adults surrounding him almost like vultures.
"Do you know Sarah Kinsmith Mr. Grayson?" The detective asked.
"Yeah, she's a pen pal why is she ok. She's not in any kind of trouble is she?" Dick asked looking around the room at the adults faces.
The detective cleared his throat to buy himself time and think of a way to explain it to this young boy. Before he could come up with the right words Ms Applebee began to explain, "Dick honey, they found Sarah's body in the park. Someone hurt her real bad and she didn't make it. The detective was hoping you could help him find out who did it."
The room went silent as Dick collected his thoughts. The detective went on to say, "we find this letter in her from you in her pocket. We hoping you could tell us if she ever said anything to you about being in any kind of trouble." Dick thought long and hard, forcing thoughts from the back of his mind to come forward.
She never said anything about being into trouble. She sounded like her life was great. Their must have been some clue. If there was a clue there I would have seen it right. Dick kept thinking to himself. "How was she killed?" He asked
"Stabbed," the detective paused for a moment before continuing, "in the chest several times. is there anything you can think of that was out of the ordinary? Maybe fights with her parents or friends at school?"
"No nothing, we usually just talked about our favorite movies and music and such. She had always seemed so happy. Do you guys have any leads any suspects or anything?" Dick asked.
"Nothing concrete yet but we're working on it." The detective tried to reassure Dick.
I've been in the business long enough to know when someone's lying to me and that means no. Dick sat quietly, angry, and confused. He listened as the police officer tried to convince to tell some piece of evidence or clue that Dick knew but he didn't know anything. Instead he sat there thinking about his friend. He couldn't understand why someone would do this to her, she always such a nice girl. Even though he had never met her in person her letters were always so polite, sweet, and charming. He also couldn't escape the nagging thought that somehow he should have been able to prevent this. He had spent the past four years since his parents death with the world's greatest detective. Learning the ins and outs of crime and it's prevention. But what good was all that training if he couldn't even protect the people close to him.
Wayne Manor
Outskirts of Gotham City, NJ
Later that evening in the dining room of the luxurious Wayne Manor Dick Grayson paced back and forth the length of the table. With each passing moment another thought jumped into his head which made him more furious. Alfred walked in holding a tray with a sandwich on it and a glass of milk. "Is ever thing ok master Dick?" he asked as he sat the tray on the table.
"I just can't help feeling like I should be doing something Alfred." he stated. "She was my friend, someone that I care about. When my parents died I was so young there wasn't anything I could do about it. Now with this I just feel like all of those old emotions are reemerging."
"I understand," Alfred explained. "You'll be happy to know that I've contacted Master Bruce and explained the situation to him. He gave me strict orders to lock up the bat cave until he returns. But he wanted me to assure that in a few days when he gets back he will assist you in going to New York and finding this criminal."
"A few days!" Dick shouted desperately. "The trail could go cold by then."
Alfred stayed quiet for a moment before speaking up, "I understand how you feel. If I were in your shoes I would feel the same way. But orders are orders and I cannot let you into the cave. Master Bruce doesn't want you running off alone and getting yourself in danger."
"Danger isn't that what he does every night. He runs off alone, gets himself into trouble and then I sneak out help him." Dick was angry that after 4 years and all the times he had rescued him his mentor still didn't trust him to take care of himself.
"I agree Master Dick, but there is nothing I can do about it." Alfred said. He then turned and headed out the door. As he left he said, "If you need me I'll be up stairs in the linen closet looking for thread to repair that cape of yours I put in the den before I take back down to the locked bat cave." Not another word was spoken but it was clear to Dick what had just happened. Alfred while maintaining his responsibility and following Bruce's orders still support Dick.
Moments later Dick found himself in garage with the Robin suit in a book bag on his shoulder. Well I gotta get to New York somehow he thought as he walked over to the yellow Lamborghini. "Now how long do I really want to get grounded for?" He said as looked back and forth between the Lamborghini and the black 2008 Audi. "Two months, two years, two months, two years." He said going back and forth between the choices. "What the hell might as well go for broke," He said out loud as he got into the Lamborghini. He had only just sat down and reached for the ignition when he noticed a post it not on the steering wheel. The note said, "Not this one," and the keys were missing. "Alfred," he muttered as he smirked, "two months it is." He got out of the Lamborghini, into the Audi, and before you knew it he was racing down the empty road outside the gates of Wayne Manor.
To be continued in issue #2
