The Bat
The Case of the Curious Cat
Gimpy was not a happy man. His choice of nicknames aside, what truly vexed him on this cool summer night was his state of finanical affairs. "Lousy dogs, couldn't run straight if they were on fire!" he groused as he limped outside the Stacked Deck Bar.
He was so preoccupied by his monetary woes that he failed to see the thin line drop down from above until it tightened around his shoulders. Yanked off of his feet, he found himself face to face with something he had previously dismissed as a myth.
"The Bat!"
"Yes Gimpy." The unholy creature growled. "You have information that I want."
"Ah, I don't have to say nothing unless I have my attorney present!"
"True, but if you don't, I might be angry enough to shake that rope. If I do that, you drop, right into a noose."
Gimpy paled. "Ok, ok, I was only fooling. What do you want to know?"
"Frenchy Blake has been seen around the local fences with some hot stuff. How did he get it?"
"The tooth fairy, I don't know!" Gimpy tried to shake himself loose and only succeeded into moving the rope up an inch. "Blake's a smart guy, has a different crew every time. That's what I heard I swear!"
"I believe you." The Bat vanished into the dark. Gimpy swung freely for a second before he heard a loud pop. The next sensation he was aware of was the hard concrete on his backside.
~B
"The explosive worked on the pulley. Good thing too, else I never would have been able to lift that stoolie." Elisabeth Wayne sat in a rather unladylike fashion as she peeled off her mask. "But I still don't know where Blake is hiding."
"Perhaps this will be a clue Mistress Elisabeth." Alfred handed her the evening edition of the Gotham Times.
"Rare diamonds to be auctioned." Elisabeth smiled when she read the article. "A likely target. I think the Bat will have to investigate."
~The next night
Gloves and Slick exited the Dumont Auction House the same way they entered: through the roof. "Come on man, the boss wanted these things a hour ago!" Gloves took the bag out of Slick's hands and edged towards the edge of the roof.
"And like I said then, cracking a safe takes time. Besides, what's the hurry?"
"Besides missing evening chowtime at Blackgate?" An eerie voice echoed over the rooftop.
"Who's there?" Slick pulled a knife. Gloves drew a pistol and dropped the bag.
Two hard objects flew out of the darkness and struck both their wrists. The gun in Gloves' hand went off by mistake, blowing out a window across the street and somehow setting off an alarm.
"Move it!" Slick grabbed the bag from the ground and hopped over the side. The ladder they had planted was still there. With practiced agility, the second story man slid down to the ground. "Let's go!"
Gloves nodded and turned his back to the roof. A firm hand on his back made him jump. "Stay away!" His heart was beating like a jackhammer. He didn't even know how the knife got in his hand or how the black demon in front him tossed him. He was briefly aware of freefalling sideways…
~C
Officer Clancy grumbled to himself as he sped through the deserted streets. "Lousy alarms. Always on the fritz, probably just a rat in the wiring." He clenched the wheel. Ordinarily his partner would joke about Clancy's ulcers getting ulcers, but true to form Mike had called in sick. "Lousy creep. Why can't anything good ever happen to me?"
The broken body of Gloves crushing his engine did little to alleviate his mood. Swerving into the curb, Clancy scrambled out his car, pistol drawn. "What the blazes?" In the dim light from the street, Clancy saw a figure peering over the edge of the roof. "Hold it!" He fired at the figure.
Scrambling for the radio, Clancy breathlessly spoke into the radio. "Get the commissioner over to the Dumont, the Bat just killed a guy!"
~B
The morning edition of the Gotham Times had the lurid "Masked Killer Strikes!" headline across three columns. Alfred sighed as he brought the paper along with a small breakfast of bacon, eggs, and orange juice to the master bedroom.
Elisabeth was sweating profusely as she unleashed a flurry of punches against the suspended punching bag. Alfred stepped inside and set the tray down on the dresser. He stood off to the side as Elisabeth capped off by kicking the bag off of its hook, sending it crashing into the wall. "I take you read this morning's edition?"
"No need Alfred." She slipped a towel over her neck. Ignoring the paper, she munched on the food. "They're right."
"Mistress Elisabeth, from your own account the man was trying to kill you."
"I know that, but I lost control of the situation. The police think I'm part of the gang. That means Blake is free to act."
"Unless you stop him."
She smiled. It was slight, but it was there. "True, but this makes my job ten times more difficult."
~F
Frenchy Blake laughed heartily as he scanned the headlines. "Shame Gloves bought it," he mockingly sighed, "but at least the job wasn't a total loss."
"About that boss..." Slick pointed to the paper. "What are we going to do about the Bat?"
"My dear fellow, 'we' are going to do absolutely nothing." Blake put his hand into the bag and withdrew a small amount of diamonds. "You, on the other hand, are going to get a new crew. My sources tell me a rather expensive collection of Monet is going to be stored in a rather unsecured location. Get me those paintings."
Slick nodded and stepped back. There was no point in arguing with the man. Blake had the look of a city dandy, but Slick had seen him personally smash a man's skull to pieces for messing up a job. He left the hotel and made his way to the usual meeting place.
He tightened his coat as he went down the rat infested stairwell. There was never any heat in that old building. Blake joked about the old hotel as being the perfect hiding place. "Who would look for a rich man here?"
"Yeah, and who would want to stay here either?" Slick thought to himself as he exited into a garbage encrusted alley. "This whole city is crazy. After this next job, I'm going back to Opal."
The night
A cool breeze went through the city, bringing some relief from the heat. Doug Kempt didn't notice or care, what with his being unconscious. Slick and Ricky had slipped in through the basement and cut the wires to the building. Doug, deciding a blown fuse was the true culprit, went down to investigate and got a slapjack to the back of his head for his trouble. Ricky stopped long enough to take the man's keys before leaving him tied up.
The pair of burglars moved quickly, up the stairs and down the right number of halls past the same bland doors to their prize. "Come on, where is this junk?"
"Ain't you got no appreciation for art?" Ricky asked as he used the key on the right door. The small stacks of paintings were casually leaning against the wall.
"I'll appreciate them more when we are back at the boss's digs." Slick stayed out in the hall and Ricky picked up the entire stack and tucked them under his arm.
"Boy, wonder why the owners put them here instead of in a safe?" Ricky asked as them moved towards the fire exit.
"Maybe the owners are stupid; how do I know?" Slick as opened the door. A foot slammed in his jaw, knocking him down.
"Evening gents." The Bat's voice echoed from the stairwell.
"Forget the colors, split!" Slick bolted. Ricky dropped the paintings and drew a gun.
A small bat shaped thing flew out of the darkness and struck Ricky in the wrist. He cried in pain as he dropped the pistol. One jab to a certain spot on the solar plexus later, he was out cold.
Slick never considered himself a praying man, but at the moment he was rethinking that position. He heard a loud bang from the down the hall before the floor rushed up to meet him. "What?"
A rope had bound his feet and legs together. The Bat stalked towards, slowly. "What do you want?"
"Information."
"Anything!" Slick tried to sit up. A razor sharp dart suddenly struck the floor next to him. He laid back down.
"Where's your boss?"
~B
Frenchy disliked using the telephone. He disliked it more when one of his underlings used one to contact him. "Yes? Wait, what?" He dropped the receiver in disbelief.
An hour later, Slick and Ricky entered Frenchy's room. The boss's calm demeanor made them both nervous. "Well?"
"Boss, we were wrong about the Bat!" Ricky blurted out.
"Oh?"
Slick stepped forward. "Yeah, well, you see, boss-"
"Spit it out man!" Frenchy's face was growing increasingly flushed.
"The Bat wants to join us!" Ricky grinned. Frenchy's color vanished.
"What?" His voice was little more than a horse whisper.
"Yeah, we told him everything!" Ricky continued to blab. Slick tried to silence him, but quickly decided to take a few steps back and eyed the door.
"You did what?" Frenchy's voice rose to a shriek.
The window exploded as a dark figure swung inside. "Blake, your time is up!" Slick ducked and bolted for the door.
Frenchy drew a sawed off shotgun from under the table. The Bat's cape fluttered. Thick dark smoke suddenly filled the room. Slick barreled through the door and slammed it shut behind him. "Forget this!" He ran pell-mell down the hall. He rounded the corner, only to trip over a small wire placed at ankle level. He hit the filthy carpet hard and didn't move.
Inside, the Bat ducked as Frenchy emptied both barrels. Ricky took half a load of shot to his gut as he staggered about blindly in the fog. "Come out blast you!" Frenchy coughed as he opened the breech and fumbled with the spent shells. A swooping figure appeared before him. Frenchy screamed as he felt gloved hands clamp around his neck. Disoriented, he felt a jab at his knees, forcing him to the side and through the only window in the room.
Coughing, Frenchy cleared his eyes as he saw the street below. "What do you want?"
"Confess!" The Bat's voice echoed in the smoke filled hell behind him.
"Never!" Frenchy shouted.
"Very well." The Bat released her grip. Frenchy Blake was suspended for roughly a second before he fell.
Before his foot completely cleared the windowsill, the Bat reached into her belt and withdrew a small grappling gun of her own design. Aiming it carefully, she fired the hook and line, ensnaring it around Blake's ankle. His screams continued as she drew him back up. "Confess!"
"You can't do this! I have rights!" Blake cried as she dropped him again. He fell three stories before the rope went taut.
"Confess, or I keep doing this until either my arm gets tired or your leg gives out."
Motioning to drop him, Frenchy held up his hands. "Alright, I give up!"
~G
James Gordon always liked the early morning. The possibility that the rising sun symbolized always made him hopeful. His optimism came crashing down when the desk sergeant burst into his office. "Commissioner!"
"What is it?"
"Sir, on the roof, I-" the younger man sputtered until Gordon shook him.
"Spit it out man!"
"Sir, someone dropped off Frenchy Blake and his gang, plus all their loot!"
"What?"
Rushing up the stairs, Gordon gasped when he saw the men bound and gagged. At their feet was a large pile of jewels and a small typed note.
Gordon carefully picked it up and unfolded it. "Inside Blake's coat is a signed confession, clearly proving him guilty of all the thefts and proving me innocent. Expect more delivers to come, signed the Bat."
Gordon crumpled the note up. His mutterings were strictly under his breath and away from the ears of the nosey rookies.
~W
Elisabeth Wayne discreetly smiled as she read the morning edition. "So Alfred, I wonder what Commissioner Gordon thought of my delivery?"
"I can't hesitate to guess." Alfred tucked the worn and smoke damaged suit under his arm and exited the room. Privately, he wished Mistress Elizabeth would put more thought into the condition of her equipment. He stashed the costume in a specially prepared dumbwaiter and sent it away.
~E
Elizabeth stretched and looked herself over in the mirror. "A few bruises, but nothing I can't blame on polo." She folded up the paper and put it next to a small stack of articles. "Getting quite a history here." Her eyes fell on a small picture of her parents.
"I know this probably isn't what you had in mind for me." She picked up the photo. "But Gotham is being destroyed from within. I can't stop, no matter the cost, not as long as innocent people suffer."
The morning was bright and, for a second, everything seemed perfect. Elizabeth placed the photo back on the dresser and planned her day. Picking up the recent edition of Aviation, she couldn't help but notice the cover. A long figure stood proudly before a fantastic machine. "Is this the future of air travel?" the cover asked.
Elizabeth made a note of the designer. "Norman Lowell and his new auto-gyro?" She looked at the contraption. It was a sleek design; an airplane crossed with a large propeller overhead, making it capable of a vertical take-off and landing. "Hmm, this might have possibilities…"
The end
This tale was based on "Frenchy Blake's Jewel Gang" which was first published Detective Comics#28 (June 1939). Credits are to Bill Finger (script) and Bob Kane.
And now the fan mail
From Wolvmbm
Here we go again. This was a nice
retelling of Batman's first appearance in comics from a female Point
of view. I must say though when are we to meet the Robin of
this world or a team up with Superwoman ? Please keep up the good work on making these great stories as
they are all an interesting read
All this
plus, the Catwoman or Catman of this world within the next issue.
Thanks! Well, as you can see, Mr. Blake was a cat burglar, but hardly a cat man. That doesn't mean there won't be a certain feline themed fellow showing sooner or later though…
From n9voc
Great stuff! I love your gender
swapping "take" on some of our most beloved heroes. How you
keep more than one series going (as you are) and still write at the
high quality level that you do is a mystery to me. However, I am very
glad you are gifted with this talent. Excellent!
'nuff said
It's a mystery to me too pal.
From Black Capricorn Day
Wow! Loved it! The 1940s setting was really interesting, especially considering it's based on an actual DC comic from that time period. It was great to see some expressions from that time period - would really like to see more of that to get more of the "feel" of the period. Also, having the Bat as a woman is a really cool idea, especially considering it's the 1940s and as a "dame," she probably wouldn't be able to become a police officer, even if she wanted to. I'm hoping to see reinterpretations of other characters. Write more!
Will do! Right now though, I am a bit swamped (3 DC, 5 Marvel plus miscellaneous) so don't expect any new series for a while.
From Tiffani
That's a great Bat-girl or woman story. I kind of prefer the
purple
costume myself, but a gray and dark blue one sounds cool as
well. :)
Excellent work, as always. Thanks for sharing
Well, the original bat suit was black, gray, and purple. I went more for the stealth approach.
Darci, I'm afraid I'm running out of room, but I hope I've answered your questions
Be here next time when The Bat Meets Doctor Death!
Upcoming titles:
Action Comics#3-The Blakely Mine Disaster!
Sensation Comics#4-The Baroness Returns!
