Robin 2
Author's Note: Guessing games are over. The answer's obvious and revealed in the last line of this chapter. Batman and Robin investigate Marghetta's residence for leads in the investigation. Enjoy.
Anthony Marghetta is not at home when we reach his listed residence. The townhouse is at least one-hundred-and-fifty years old and in immaculate condition with no exploitable entry points at all. We elect to lock pick the rear door, mindful of the advanced home security systems these houses tend to have installed. I tell Robin to fix this problem for me and the boy disappears onto the roof for several minutes. Meanwhile, I manage to successfully unlock the five tumbler lock with my specialist tools and open the door to silence. A moment later, the boy is by my side.
"Where did you drop the jammer?" I inquire as we step inside the darkened house and employ micro light torches to guide our feet. We opt for infrared light to reduce our visibility from the street.
"Straight down the chimney, a Santa Claus special." From what I understand of a typical Gotham townhouse structure, the main lounge area and therefore the fireplace are located on the first floor, directly above us. The jamming field only provides a bubble of roughly twenty metres in all possible directions and is therefore just short of covering us completely from electronic tagging. We need to leave no evidence we were here; Marghetta has not been confirmed as the assassin and, without evidence, we must assume he is innocent until proven otherwise. Therefore I cannot employ a batarang to disable the system's power box which is the most effective solution. I consider.
"The control box near the front door needs disabling. Do you have any more jammers?" I ask my partner. Robin fumbles around in his belt and produces just one further portable jamming device. "We need to throw the jammer as that it sticks to the outside of the box. Without precise placement, the jammer will be ineffective and potentially trip the alarm. Do you have any sort of adhesive?" Again my partner searches his equipment and shakes his head.
"No, only sticky bombs. I take it you got zip too?"
"I did not anticipate encountering this system with our usual suspects. I had prepared for a homemade bomb or crude booby trap. Are you sure you have nothing?" I check. Robin considers.
"I got bubble gum." The boy says in a joking voice. I am about to tell him once again to not fill his pouches with non-mission essential kit before an idea strikes me.
"What brand is it?"
"Gotham Big Chew."
"Is that the same brand you managed to line the inside of your jean pockets with last year?"
"You wanna use the gum to stick it on the box? Think it'll hold?" He asks having guessed my plan. I smirk.
"It's still in your pockets isn't it?" The boy smirks back.
"Okay, I'm game."
I wait for a couple of minutes while Robin indulges in his little habit of blowing bubbles before he deems it chewed enough to stick. I shine my light on his hands while he fixes the two elements together and then aim it at the precise spot requires for the box to be rendered immaterial. The boy does not even take a moment to aim, throwing it straight away. We watch it smack against the spot and wait. Several seconds pass. The gum stays strong and we are free of tagging.
"You search the ground floor and I will check the first floor. Maintain radio communication at all times. If anyone approaches the house, stay in cover."
"No problemo, Boss. Looking for anything in particular?"
"Any link to the homicides whatsoever: knowledge of the victims, forensic evidence taken from the murder scenes, equipment utilized by the Black Talon. You know the procedure by now, don't you?"
"I gotcha." He replies as we separate. I ascend the stairs and begin in Marghetta's bedroom. Various bills I find in the bedside table confirm Marghetta's residency at this address and date back to only a month ago, roughly the same time as Mitchum's murder in Upper East Gotham. This is nothing more than coincidence, but is still suspicious. I move on to the closet. I find the usual array of clothing and shoes, some miscellaneous shoe boxes and oddly a teddy bear. Due to the out-of-place nature of the bear, I inspect it first. A brief search reveals there is something solid and angular inside it, possibly a USB or other storage device. Further scrutiny shows that the bear has been re-stitched. Taking the scalpel from my bomb disposal kit, I cut a three-inch incision along its main seam and utilise pliers to remove the embedded object. It is a data storage device, unmarked and less than eight gigabytes due to its small size, but definitely evidence enough to suggest some criminal activity is taking place.
"Hello Batman, this is Robin, message over." My partner says over the radio link.
"This is Batman, send over."
"I found a couple sniper rifle rounds under the sofa. They look like they might be a match for the shell recovered from the sniper's nest."
"Are they used?"
"Nope, probably rolled under there while they were stockpiling ammunition."
"I've located a memory device. From where it was concealed, I believe it may be of strategic importance."
"Doesn't this feel like a set-up to you? This is all pretty easy going for someone supposedly as sophisticated as The Black Talon."
"I am getting the sense that Marghetta is being utilized as some kind of scapegoat for the real assassin. If so and the killer can afford to house a recently-released criminal in this kind of luxury as an insurance policy, we are definitely dealing with someone of considerable means."
"So we get Marghetta to sing?"
"No. The likelihood of Marghetta knowing his beneficiary's name or address is remote at best; the man is a known as a loudmouth. We need to trace the owner of the property and go from there."
"What about Marghetta? We just going to leave him?"
"We've got a lead. That's enough. Marghetta isn't causing trouble, not yet anyway. Let's go. Take the rounds with you and collect the jammer from the box. Meet me outside near the car in three minutes." I say whilst re-stitching the bear before replacing it in the closet.
"See you in three, big guy."
I wander through to the lounge to collect the other jammer. Clipping it onto my utility belt grants me protection from the security system whilst exiting the house. I pocket the storage device, force open the window and use a nearby bush to cushion my fall. Without the jamming field in place, the open window is detected by the system and alarms begin to howl into the night. I quietly leave the scene and arrive back at the car before there is even a flicker of action from neighbours to combat the perceived threat. Robin is already sat on the bonnet when I approach and playing with the rounds in his palm.
"Did you really just set off the burglar alarm?" He asks grinning at me.
"Perhaps. Did you really run into the back door trying to get here before me?" I inquire noting the fresh lump on the side of his head. The boy blushes in embarrassment.
"Maybe. Is it really noticeable?" He says. I gesture to the passenger door.
"Get in now and maybe Alfred can limit the cosmetic damage."
We get back to the cave less than twenty minutes later. Robin receives a suitably sized icepack to help reduce the swelling whilst I begin to examine the storage device. After patching it into the main computer terminal and finding no encryption protocols blocking access to the information contained, I know Marghetta is nothing but a pawn for the real Talon. The information supplied is a comprehensive list of targets and execution dates. Mitchum and Hennessy are already dead, leaving an additional six targets left to assassinate. According to the dates listed, all these hits are to be completed within the next two weeks. There is only one reason I can think of for having such advanced notice of the intended targets available on this device; Talon does not expect Marghetta to be implicated or rather, will not allow him to be implicated in the crimes until their completion and is therefore planting relevant evidence in advance. This is their biggest mistake.
The next hit is scheduled to be conducted tomorrow afternoon and targets Simon Webber, a former deputy mayor of Gotham. If I remember rightly, he was forced to resign from office due to mass rumours of corruption. Correlations between the previous victims have already been investigated thoroughly and yielded only one common factor; both men had to resign from their respective positions due to corruption allegations or face indictment charges. Due to their offices of government overlapping and the fact they were both in those offices around the same time period; I assumed it related to the crime lord Alexander Fitch who often bribed officials to look the other way. The puzzling part was that Fitch has been dead for six years, killed in a shoot-out with police in a neighbouring state and that both victims had been out of office for almost fifteen years. It made little sense to pursue that avenue at the time, but now with this list it seems more relevant than ever to explore the possibility.
"So, got a theory, big guy?" Robin says drawing up alongside me. He has the icepack firmly pressed against his self-inflicted injury. I smile.
"I am formulating one presently. Have you had a chance to analyse the rounds you recovered?" The boy emits a deflated sigh whilst leaning against the side of my chair.
"I checked them for fingerprints. Only ones on them are Marghetta's. This guy's good at framing people huh?"
Yes, Talon does seem quite proficient at the art. However, their arrogance will prove very damaging. If these files are an accurate breakdown of the intended sequence of coming murders, all I have to do is analyse the individuals being targeted, find the patterns and make the connections. Once that is completed, I will have all the intelligence I need to stop them definitively. The only reason I do not communicate this to the boy is because I wish to know his opinion on the matter without my comments steering him. "What do you think of this case?" I say turning my head to look at him. His green eyes flicker for a few minutes as he assimilates the information on the screen to help him theorise. When he is happy he starts.
"There's corrupt officials, dead corrupt officials and some kind of rich guy picking them off one by one." Robin begins, merely articulating the basic facts of the investigation. He considers carefully. "You know it's kind of like The Count of Monte Cristo. A slighted man gains a fortune and then exacts revenge for those responsible for his fall from grace. We're studying it in English at the moment; it's pretty cool." I must admit to not having factored Dumas's classical tale into my analysis, but now it has been mentioned, there are certain similarities that may have some merit in pursuing further. I am again reminded of why the boy is an asset in this line of work; a fresh spin on a tired thread and a unique way of seeing the world. I nod in satisfaction.
"Not a bad parallel to make. How's your head?"
The boy pulls away the icepack briefly to show me the purple lump prominently displayed a few inches above his left eye. "I really didn't need to run; I'm always going to be quicker than you." He replies shooting me a sly grin before replacing the pack.
"Until you break your leg trying to race me to the dinner table." I retort with a wry smile of my own.
"I could still beat you." He maintains only for me to shake his head.
"No, you couldn't." I tell him. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head too.
"No, I couldn't. Do you need me for anything else tonight, Boss?"
"No, get yourself to bed. You've earned it."
"And you?"
"I've got work to do before tomorrow evening." He knows this means I will be sat here for the next few hours and nods in understanding before pushing himself away from my chair. He does not like it, but he understands it is what I need to do.
"Well, don't stay up too late. Night Bruce." He says with an amicable smile before walking away. I manage a response before I am too engrossed in the work before me to notice anything else.
"Goodnight Dick."