Unclean Lips
Part 1
The call went out one week ago: Gotham Gazette reporter Vicki Vale missing, supposedly while following up on a story detailing a string of arsons. She was last seen getting into the back of taxi; she never made it to the scene of the fire. An interrogation of the cab driver revealed that a traffic jam led to Vale continuing on foot, four blocks from her destination. Dash cam footage from the taxi supported his claim. Attempting to track Vale via her cellphone only led GCPD to Miller Harbor, where they found the device in a lobster trap.
No further evidence was needed to prove that foul play was involved, and an investigation into her personal life had began. However, the investigation turned up nothing out of the ordinary, leaving Gordon and his men guessing. The only clue the Commissioner had to go on is a possible connection to the arsons, which he had left in the hands of a "good friend" of his.
"Intuition pins Lynns as the culprit," the aged police commissioner said, lighting up his pipe, "There's a reason I don't listen to my intuition, though. Probably the same reason you don't listen to yours." He peered up across the the scorched room at the dark, towering form that lurked in the shadows before him, puffing his pipe as he waited for a response.
"Things are more intricate than they appear, Jim." the brooding voice of the form came forth. It stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight that shone through the vacant windows, illuminating Gotham's Caped Crusader, the Batman.
"Let's start with motives." Gordon insisted.
"I've mapped out the locations of each fire," the masked vigilante explained, "The first was on Ezekiel Street in Old Gotham. The second on Eli Street in the Fashion District. The third on Sam Avenue in City Hall District. And the fourth being here, on Moses Boulevard in Chinatown. Are you seeing the connection?"
"Am I supposed to be?" Gordon answered, trying to make sense of what he was hearing, "So far, you're not telling me anything that we don't already know."
"Four districts in Gotham infamous for heavy traffic," Batman elaborated, "The hours at which each fire occurred coincide with traffic being at its busiest." The pieces were definitely fitting together perfectly in the mind of the Commissioner, but something didn't quite add up.
"If what you're saying is true, then our perpetrator doesn't understand the rules of the road," Gordon commented, "Traffic yields to emergency response vehicles; even in rush hour, it wouldn't have slowed the responding firefighters down enough to have made a difference."
"Maybe it wasn't the firefighters they were slowing down?" the Dark Knight suggested, his hand emerging from his shrouding cape to drop a copy of Gotham Gazette onto a blackened countertop that divided the two men. The headline read "Missing Vale", a picture of the surnamed reporter printed below.
"Let me get this straight," Gordon responded, a bit doubtful of the masked man's conclusion, "You're saying that our perp's motive for the fires was the abduction of Ms. Vale? That's-"
"Far-fetched?" Batman interrupted, "I know. However, I've looked deeper into Vale's professional life, and I've found a few details you and your men have missed. An article on the first fire was never written for the paper; a hobby shop burning down didn't interest Vale enough to sit in traffic. That is, until evidence of foul play was found. So, when reports came in of the second fire on Eli, Ms. Vale was quick to respond. The same with the third. If you read the two articles she published, however, you'll see that she had arrived after the flames had been extinguished."
"Because of traffic." the Commissioner said, finally understanding things from the other's perspective.
"Which is exactly why she took off on foot with the latest fire," Batman continued, "She knew that she wouldn't have seen the flames if she had waited any longer. What our perp intended."
"I don't get it though, why would our perpetrator go through such great lengths?" Gordon pondered, "It would've been easier abducting Ms. Vale from her home."
"It also would have been their downfall," the Caped Crusader remarked, as he ran his hand along a charred wall of the room they stood in, "So far, they've managed to cover their tracks fairly well, all the evidence we've collected isn't enough to paint us a clear picture." Without any kind of warning, his fist tore into the wall with a powerful punch, alarming Gordon. Not too long after did his hand emerge from the wall, holding some kind of bomb made from a mason jar.
"B-but, how did-" Gordon stammered out, disbelieving of his find.
"I investigated each crime scene a second time to see what we were missing," Batman explained, inspecting the jar of yellow liquid, "It was only after that I discovered that the first three arsons had three points of ignition. This one, however, had only two. Whoever's behind this has done months of careful planning, but they didn't take into consideration the possibility of a rodent problem." He inspected a wire that had been severed from a remote detonator on the bomb, showing visible teeth marks.
"Think we can lift some prints off the jar?" the Commissioner asked.
"Unlikely." Batman answered, as he turned to examine the hole he'd created. He ran his gloved finger along the edge of it, before tearing off a piece of the drywall. He squeezed the piece tightly in his hand, feeling it crumble beneath the pressure. Upon opening his hand again, he discovered white fiber-like strands among the grounds. "I may have found the next best thing."
"What is it?" Gordon perked up.
"Asbestos."
"Asbestos," Gordon repeated, as he tried to wrap his mind around that answer, "There isn't a hardware store in Gotham that'd sell the stuff, how the hell did our perp get their hands on it?"
"Gather your men and meet me at the Warehouse District in an hour," Batman ordered, making his way over to the window, "I'm going to follow up on a hunch."
"Wait one second," the Commissioner stopped him, "You still haven't given me probable cause to rule out Garfield Lynns as a suspect!"
"Lynns is strung up beneath a lamp post in lower east Gotham," the winged hero clarified, "Tried forging some new identification to skip town; had a few jobs lined up in Star City." And with that, the Bat vanished out the window, leaving the head of Gotham City Finest questioning.
Gotham City Warehouse District, Warehouse 24; once a plastic molding and distribution center, now a cesspit for Gotham's underground society. Whether it be the manufacturing and distribution of illegal narcotics or counterfeiting bills, the building had been the site of many criminal activities. One case in particular involved the Roman Contracting Company managed by the Falcone Crime Family, a seemingly legitimate business that rented the location for storage of equipment and material. The company was shut down when an investigation showed that hazardous and lower quality materials were being used, a way for Falcone to turn over a greater profit by buying cheap outdated supplies. Drywall containing asbestos was one of those materials.
Although, many of the items were collected as evidence for the trial, there remained material unaccounted for. Which is what drew the Bat to the warehouse, it held the answers he needed to solve this case and find Ms. Vale. The building had sat unused for several years at that point, the criminal history of the place scared away any potential clients. So, it came as no surprise when he found the place void of life, apart from the makeshift beds left behind by the homeless that were undoubtedly ran off by police. That wouldn't stop him from continuing his sweep of the building, and eventually, his persistence paid off.
Upon his search of the basement, he discovered a suspicious scene. Along with the missing drywall that led him there in the first place, he found a kiddie pool blown up and filled with now tinted water. A tripod was set up so that any camera placed on it would be aimed down at the inflatable pool. Skimming his fingers across the surface of the pool, he collected several strands of hair. The red strands were a perfect match to that of Vicki Vale's.
No doubt about it, their arsonist was Vale's kidnapper. But, did this mean that he was too late? Did her abductor already do away with her? He wasn't willing to rule it out just yet, there was still more ground to cover and even more evidence to collect. He resumed his investigation, trailing down the narrow brick pathways.
He happened upon a broom closet that appeared to have been converted into a cell, as a steel chain-link fence gate and several padlocks replaced the door. The only things in the cell were a soiled twin sized mattress, and piles of excrement that had accumulated in the far back corner. However, Ms. Vale wasn't there; meaning she was either being held elsewhere, or she was gone. Ironically enough, the horrid odor radiating from the human waste gave Batman a glimmer of hope, as there was a fresher scent amongst the older. If they weren't anywhere in the warehouse, then he'd just missed them.
Persisting further into the basement, he came across a cluttered work bench, with empty cans of boiled linseed oil strewn about on the cement floor. Several mason jars sat on the bench, along with spools of copper wiring. One jar contained an orangish gold substances, which upon closer inspection he determined was not the same liquid that was in the bomb he'd found prior. White taper candles stood along the ends of the bench, their melted wax having cemented them in place. Strangely, a glass terrarium containing live grasshoppers took up space on the work table, with signs of a few escapees having been splattered on the tabletop as well.
"I said an hour, Jim." the dark defender reiterated, having recognized the footsteps of the tired old police commissioner approaching from behind.
"And I don't recall agreeing to anything," Gordon retorted, "I got the boys combing around upstairs, so we got a minute. How're we lookin'?"
"My hunch paid off," the masked man explained, "Our pyromaniac and Vale's kidnapper are one and the same. Hair I found in the pool looks to belong to Ms. Vale."
"Jesus Christ, we're not too late, are we?" the Commissioner worried, expecting the worst.
"Perhaps not," Batman elaborated, "Fecal matter in her holding cell appears fresh, there's a good chance that she's just been moved. I was able to find the asbestos laced drywalling used to conceal the bombs." He stepped to the side, presenting the work bench to the other man. "And the ingredients used to make them; they used linseed oil as the accelerant." Gordon couldn't help but notice the terrarium full of creepy crawlies.
"And the bugs?" he inquired.
"Schistocerca gregaria," the winged avenger answered, "Otherwise known as the desert locust, an imported specimen native to eastern continents."
"Well, that shouldn't prove difficult, just track down the one nutcase in Gotham importing exotic bugs." Gotham's finest suggested, leaning in for a closer look at the insects.
"The content of this jar tells a different story." the vigilante further explained, picking up the jar and examining the substance inside. The Commissioner studied the thick, gold, liquid as well.
"Is that honey?"
"100% all natural," Batman confirmed, "At least, that's what I was able to translate from the Mandarin on the lid." He presented the jar to Gordon, who glanced at the black symbols printed on the jar.
"Exotic bugs and honey," he mumbled aloud, before there came a realization, "The fire in Chinatown, it was a grocery store."
"Meaning the arsonist must have been a frequent customer." the man in black and gray theorized.
"I'll have Montoya and Bullock interview the victims again," the grizzled old man informed, turning and shining a flashlight around the rest of the basement, "Forensics have gotta find something to pin a face on this guy." He couldn't help but feel a small amount of relief, they'd uncovered more and more of the pieces to this very elaborate puzzle they'd been working on for a week now. To think, not even an hour ago, he'd only had the outer edges put together.
He thought it crazy how much progress they made whenever Gotham's self proclaimed protector took on the case. Often times though, the cases themselves were crazy, making them much more difficult to solve. But, the difficulties never slowed down the Batman, as he seemed to understand them far greater than anyone else. Was it because he too was crazy?
"Something wrong, Jim?" the Bat interrupted his train of thought, somewhat alarmed by the other man's silence. The gray haired man snapped his focus back to the case at hand.
"It's nothing," he assured; "Just been one of those nights. I've still got to get over to Gotham Zoo, some bum broke in. Something about a skinned camel and a video tape-" Gordon was interrupted by the sound of the glass jar hitting the table.
"The tape, is it still intact?" he turned to find Batman towering over him, seemingly rushing him for an answer.
Not long after their encounter at the warehouse, the two were back at the GCPD, Gordon inserting the VHS tape they'd collected from the crime scene at the Zoo into a VCR. The video began with the scene of a child's birthday party, possibly taking place at a park. From the quality of the video and the style of clothing the children and adults wore, it had to be several decades old.
"Must be a memento from the guy's old life." the Commissioner commented, studying closely to see if he could recognize anyone.
"No," Batman assured, "There's more." Gordon only watched while scratching his chin scruff, pondering what it could be that the Caped Crusader was looking for in the film. The kids and the adults gathered around a picnic table where a little red haired girl sat with a candle lit cake in front of her, preparing to sing her Happy Birthday.
"Happy Birthday to you," they sung together, "Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday, dear Vicki-" Before the last verse could be sung, the footage scrambled before cutting to a more disturbing image. A black gloved hand held what looked to be a redheaded woman underneath a pool of water, as she thrashed violently for freedom.
"What the hell?" the older man couldn't help but blurt out, taken aback by what he was seeing. It didn't take a genius to realize that it was the same kiddie pool they'd found in the warehouse that was being used in the video. Gordon understood now what it was that his "partner" on this case hoped to find. And Batman's suspicions were only further proven true, as the gloved hand eventually pulled the wet and reddened face of Ms. Vicki Vale from the water.
"Please, no more!" Vale begged, her voice a shrill scream of desperation as she choked for air. From what they could see of her from the camera's positioning, she appeared to have been stripped naked of her clothing, with her hands restrained behind her back. Between each shallow breath she swallowed, a fit of hysterical sobbing escaped her lungs. If not for the water that rolled down her face, they would've seen tears gushing from her eyes.
"I'll do anything, I swear," she continued her pleas in hopes of a reprieve, "Just, please, no more!"
"So..."
Batman's eye's grew wide and his heartbeat began to quicken, instantly recognizing the raspy male voice of the woman's tormentor.
"You're saying you accept?" the man inquired from off camera, a sinister snicker proceeding his inquiry. Commissioner Gordon too was able to put a face to the voice, as him and Batman locked eyes for a moment. Though both did their damnedest to hide it, their concerns still shown through their disguised expressions. They finally had a face for their perpetrator, but it wasn't one they'd hoped to see. In fact, each time he was locked away in the godforsaken hellhole that was Arkham, they'd prayed never to see it again.
The Joker.
"Yes! Yes!" Vicki repeated frantically, willing to do anything to end the nightmare she was enduring, "I accept! I accept!"
"Well then," Joker cleared his throat from off screen, "We'd better get you ready, the day is at hand!" And with that, the scene scrambled back to the birthday party that had original been recorded on the tape, as the young girl that they identified as a juvenile Vicki Vale opened her presents. Both Batman and Gordon were at a loss for words.