Chapter Four

It was not long before the police were back at the Riddler's hideout. Batman came as well, of course, despite the late hour for him and the probability that he had not gotten much, if any, sleep. But if he was exhausted, he showed no signs of it.

By then the Riddler had already tried tracing the email, and had discovered it had been sent from a computer at an all-night Internet café in the bad part of town. Most likely the killer had first gotten Riddler's email address using his own technology, and then had opted to send the email from a highly public area to make discovering him that much more difficult. Even so, it was a lead, and it had to be followed.

But as Nygma had predicted, it did little good. There were seven computers throughout the café, all currently occupied. And the harried clerk could not tell Nygma or anyone else about who had been using the stations twenty to thirty minutes earlier. In frustration the group reconvened at the piano store.

"That," said the Riddler in annoyance, as he led them back inside, "was an immense waste of time. I hope you brought the reports from the recent murders, Commissioner?"

"Right here," Gordon answered, holding up three folders.

"I was thinking about the murders three years ago," Batman spoke. "Altogether, there were eight."

"That's right," the Riddler said, taking the folders from Gordon. "And now there have been three more, with five planned for the next few days."

"Which add up to another eight," Batman said.

Yin's eyes widened. "Sixteen murders in all," she breathed. "That covers all the pieces on one half of a chessboard."

Batman nodded. "Three years ago, he stopped when he was halfway done," he said. "But there's still the question of Why."

"And why did he pick now to start again?" the Riddler mused. After flipping through the reports, he walked back to the supercomputer and sat down. Bringing up a folder marked "Victims", he began to type. The others stood by, watching as he entered the locations where the latest three bodies had been found. The computer beeped, scurrying to process the information and align it in the grid.

Batman narrowed his eyes. He already knew the locations, due to having gone over the reports before, but he had not considered the chessboard angle previously and it was quite a different perspective. He should have picked up on it, he told himself, and it was inexcusable that he had not. The only explanation he could find for not having discovered the possibility was that he had not been much into games at that time. That had been before he had defeated the childish Cluemaster at his own twisted game.

"Riddler," he said now, "why do you think this Chessmaster is targeting you? He says he despises you even more than Fridays. Are you sure that's just because you got so close to the truth?"

The painted lips turned down in a scowl. "I've been trying to think if anyone I know could have moonlighted as such a character," Riddler told him. "No one stands out in my mind."

"Maybe someone else needs to take a look," Batman said. He could not forget how the Riddler had been so blinded by his feelings for Julie that he had never considered that she was the most likely suspect in the sabotage incident. It could happen again. The Riddler would not even have to like the person who might be the Friday Night killer; maybe it would be someone who had been so dull in his mind that he would never have thought that person could be a ruthless murderer.

"You want me to tell you my life story, Batman?" Riddler sneered.

"If that's what it takes," Batman returned.

"I already told you a good deal of it," Riddler said.

"But not about all of the people you know," Batman said. "It could even be someone you only talked to once or twice."

"Then I likely wouldn't remember them unless something about them stood out," was the reply.

Now Riddler pressed the final button. The updated grid spread across the screen, with three new X's in place. The raven-haired man leaned forward, frowning at the sight.

"This one was a rook," he said, pointing to a space on the row at the far right.

"And this one was a pawn," Batman added, indicating another spot.

"The remaining one was yet another pawn," Riddler said, slumping back into the seat.

"Alright," Yin said. "What does it mean?"

"Let's count them up," Riddler said. "All knights and bishops are gone, along with one rook. The rest are all pawns."

"Six pawns," Batman frowned. "That leaves two, plus one rook, the queen, and the king."

Yin crossed her arms. "Would he go after another pawn already when he's killed two?" she wondered.

"The order seems to be purely random," Riddler said, "just like his victims. Though I do wonder if he's saving the king and queen for the last."

Gordon's frustration was beginning to build even more. "Even if we have police stationed at the remaining vacant squares on the two rows on the right, that doesn't mean any of those locations are where the bodies will be placed," he said. "What if they're more victims who will be on squares corresponding to their 'pieces' movements?"

"Therefore, we also have to watch all of those squares," Riddler said.

"And we still don't even know where he might be planning to kill someone!" Yin exclaimed in anger.

For a moment there was silence. Then the Riddler straightened in the chair.

"What if the location of the Internet café is a clue?" he mused. "Maybe he'll strike in that general area."

"Or maybe it's a diversion meant to lead us away from the real scene of the murder," Batman said.

Yin looked to him. "Which would be what?" she asked.

"I don't know," Batman said.

"We can't spread out over the entire city," Gordon objected. "There aren't enough police who would be free for that."

"Then we'll do what we can," the Riddler said. "Batman and I will be staking out locations as well. And what about your little friend the Boy Wonder?" he added, looking to Batman.

"He'll be there too," Batman replied.

Out of the places needing to be watched, one was another section of the Gotham pier--which was not that far from the Internet café. After discovering that, the Riddler seemed all the more sure that it might be the location of the next murder. Batman had consented that it was possible, and that the location needed to be watched--hence, how he found himself there towards evening.

"You don't think we've already missed the murder, do you?" Robin asked over the comlink. While Batman was waiting near the café, Robin had taken up position at the docks. Everything seemed eerily calm. Even the water barely moved. But that only served to make Robin all the more worried.

"No," Batman said. "The autopsies show the murders are always committed at night."

"Yeah, but they also used to only be on Friday nights," Robin reminded him. "Do you think the guy would've speeded things up if we hadn't freed the Riddler?"

"That really doesn't matter now," Batman said. "The Riddler has provided us with a great deal of information, just as the police had hoped he could."

"And it sounds like maybe we played right into the Chessmaster's hands," Robin grumbled. "He wanted Riddler to get out! This is probably some kind of personal grudge match between them."

"Riddler doesn't know who the killer is," Batman said. "If he does, he doesn't know he knows."

"That's if he's telling the truth," Robin replied. "He's probably thrilled at the idea of playing another game with this twisted guy."

"Riddler's not happy about this," Batman told him. "He won't say it, but it's easy to tell he's angry.

"I don't want to talk about this any more right now."

Robin blew out his breath in frustration. "I just don't want everyone to make a big mistake!" he protested. Or rather, he did not want Batman to make a big mistake--one that could end up seriously costing him. That thought scared Robin more than he would even admit to himself.

"I know," was the answer. "But we're able to make our own decisions.

"I see something moving in the shadows. I'm going to have a look."

"Okay. Let me know."

Robin sighed to himself as he turned his attention away from the comlink. Was it really such a bad thing, that he was not crazy about the idea of working with the Riddler? Every way he looked at it, it was a horrible idea. And even if nothing actually went wrong because of the alliance, the police were going to have to let the Riddler go free at the end. He would not pay for his crimes. Well, Robin knew the idea was that helping to catch a far more dangerous man was considered the payment, but it was hard for him to accept that--especially when the Riddler's motivation was not to make amends for what he himself had done, but simply wanting revenge against the killer.

Still, the Riddler was not the most treacherous villain they had ever encountered, and certainly not the most dangerous, either. But it was just against the Boy Wonder's code of ethics to trust a criminal.

He also puzzled over what Batman had told him that night, after the Riddler had been knocked senseless by the laser cannon he had been trying to use on Julie. The man had looked so helpless, trapped under the thing. Robin had not even been sure at first that the Riddler was still alive. But Batman had seemed to know. Standing in the doorway, he had observed the scene as he had posed the bewildering question to Robin.

"When is a villain not the villain?"

Batman had fixed a silently accusing stare on Julie at that moment. And though the Riddler had been consumed by such a frenzied anger moments before, a lone tear had slipped from his eye. Even Julie had seemed affected by that.

Robin had the feeling that Batman pitied the Riddler to some extent, and perhaps even understood him--which was something Robin was sure he could never do himself. And in spite of that, even Batman had not seemed pleased about the police releasing the criminal from Arkham. So Robin used that as a rationale for his own distrusting feelings--though those feelings were accompanied by the bitterness that deeply concerned Batman.

. . . Was the real problem that, deep down, Robin feared maybe the police would someday turn to Tony Zucco for help? What if they wanted to bring down a mob boss who was still at large and they decided Zucco had the most information on him? Zucco was completely unrepentant. He would go along just to get his revenge on a rival--and of course, to get out of jail. Then he would be out on the streets again and surely go back to his old ways. What if someone else lost their family because of him?

Robin glowered at the darkness. Everything was still way too quiet. Maybe the murder was going to be committed somewhere else. Or maybe it was even a sick setup and nothing was going to happen.

Now it sounded like a motor off somewhere in the distance. Was it on the water? Maybe it was a boat.

Behind the mask, his eyes widened. What if it was the killer coming to drop the body into the bay? He had to be stopped.

Without another thought, Robin leaped off the roof of the warehouse. "Batman!" he called into the comlink. "Someone's out on Gotham Bay. I'm going to check it out."

There was a short silence. "Alright," Batman said then. "Be careful."

He sounded occupied, so Robin opted not to ask what was going on there. Instead he landed on a crate and then jumped to the dock, running to the edge where other motorboats were gently bobbing on the water's surface. Now it was obvious that the sound he was hearing was a boat on the water, and it seemed to be coming to the edge of the pier. Maybe he should hide in the shadows and wait.

After a moment, the boat pulled up alongside the others and the engine was cut. A tall figure emerged, stepping onto the dock. With a flourish he anchored the boat and then turned, moving to walk up the pier. As he stepped into the light of the moon, Robin's mouth dropped open. It was Gorman! But how was that possible? He had been captured and taken to jail!

Deciding that this had gone far enough, Robin sprang out of the shadows and into the stunned businessman's path. "Hold it right there!" he cried.

Gorman stared. "What is this?!" he demanded. "Gotham's crawling with freaks!" He took a good look at Robin. "Now even the kids are getting into the act. Go on, go play somewhere else," he said, waving his hand in a dismissive way. "I'm a busy man."

"You're also supposed to be an incarcerated man!" Robin exclaimed.

"So my lawyer got me off," Gorman answered impatiently. "They didn't have enough to hold me. Look, little boy, I don't have time for this." Again he tried to walk past.

"'Little boy'?!" Robin cried in indignation. He kept himself firmly planted in front of Gorman as he continued to speak. "Okay, look. There's a murder going to be committed tonight. People are stationed everywhere trying to stop it. And you're right here at one of the places where it might happen!"

For a moment Gorman looked stunned. Then the annoyed look returned. "Okay, kid, you've had your joke," he said. "Why don't you go put the costume away until it's Halloween? But don't come to my door expecting any candy from me."

"I bet you don't give candy to anyone," Robin retorted. "Unless maybe you have them pay you something for it. And if you don't believe me about what's going on, why don't you try asking Batman? Or the police?"

"Batman! I should've known that freak would be involved." Gorman reached out, shoving Robin to the side with a strong hand. "I don't want to be mixed up in anything of his. And I definitely don't need to be anywhere that a murder's going to be. I've got enough bad publicity right now as it is." With that he walked on, his steps increasing in his hurry to get away.

Robin gritted his teeth. What should he do now? He was supposed to watch for the murderer. And surely it could not be Gorman, could it? He probably had a strong dislike of the Riddler, but he would not have the technological knowledge to hack into and discover a highly-protected email address. Nor did he seem like the serial killer type.

Though, really, what was the serial killer type? It could be anyone. And it was weird that Gorman had been out so late in a motorboat, especially if he had just gotten out of jail. He was wearing a business suit; he was not dressed for a pleasure trip.

"Batman!" Robin called into the comlink. "There's a problem down here."

"There's one here, too," Batman immediately replied, his voice grim.

"Did you find the killer?!" Robin exclaimed.

"No," Batman said. "Some people coming out of the café decided to pick a fight with me. I have to wonder if it was a deliberate distraction."

"That's bizarre!" Robin frowned. "And over here, Gorman showed up. I thought sure he was in jail!"

Batman sighed. "He was, but his lawyer pulled some strings and got him out," he said. "There's been so many other things going on that I haven't thought much about it."

"Well, he was out on the water in a motorboat!" Robin told him. "And he's wearing a business suit. What could he have been doing out there?"

"I don't know." There was a pause. "Where is he now?"

"Just walking up the pier," Robin said. "I didn't know if I should follow him or not. Do you think maybe he could be the guy we're looking for?"

"No," Batman said. But then a new thought occurred to him. "There's a chance that he could be the intended victim," he realized.

"No way!" Robin was stunned. He had not even considered that possibility before.

"Follow him," Batman said. "I'll come down there to take over your post. The police are here to pick up the troublemakers."

"Right. I'll let you know what happens!" Robin said. Quickly he ended the communication, hurrying after the unlikable businessman. Gorman probably had plenty of enemies who would like to get rid of him, but why would the serial killer choose him for a victim? They still had not determined what connection there could be between the victims, if there was any at all.

"Well, I know you're not gonna be grateful for this, but I have to protect you anyway," Robin muttered. "It's a hero thing."

Of the remaining places that were being watched, the Riddler had chosen a quiet neighborhood that had once been fairly nice but now was suffering degradation due to gang violence. He kept to himself in the shadows, wandering the streets as he looked for anything amiss. His staff was being carried in his right hand, just in case he would need it.

"Everything is quiet here, Yinsey," he said into the comlink he had been given. "What about where you are?"

"There isn't any sign of criminal activity here," Yin answered. She was stationed a few blocks over, in the area where the next grid square began. It was a slightly better neighborhood, though being so close to the bad part of town led most people to ensure that their doors were locked and security systems were installed.

"Maybe the actual crime is taking place somewhere else," Riddler said.

"Or maybe it isn't late enough," Yin returned. "Wait--a dark car just passed the block for the second time in the last ten minutes. The driver acts like he's looking for something."

"The right place to drop a body, perhaps?" Riddler mused.

"Or the right person to kill," Yin said. "But if they're looking for someone, they're out of luck. The only person out is . . ."

But she was interrupted as the strange car opened fire. With a gasp she ducked down, placing a hand over the back of her neck as the windshield shattered above her. In a flash her gun was drawn and she was raising up just enough to fire back through the open space. She was aiming for a tire, but the other car swerved too fast. The bullet bounced off the asphalt as the vehicle traveled to be behind her car.

"Yin?"

She ignored the Riddler's voice as her sudden enemy now fired at the back windshield. Again she fell flat onto the front seat, her eyes narrowing in frustration. "I'm going to have whoever that is pay the bill," she muttered to herself.

There was a screech of tires as the strange car spun around again. When Yin dared to look up, it was speeding in the opposite direction, determined to get off this street and out of sight.

"You're not getting away on my watch," she vowed. Straightening into the driver's seat again, she turned the ignition and stepped hard on the accelerator. Then she turned her own car around. The other vehicle's taillights were just vanishing around the corner. Gripping the steering wheel, she moved to follow.

"Yin! Are you alright?"

At last she took note of the man on the other end of the comlink--and the fact that for the moment he had dropped the teasing nickname. "I'm fine, Riddler," she replied. "I don't know whether that was our killer or not, but he wasn't happy about being watched." She kept the car in sight as it twisted to the left. "He might be coming your way in a few minutes."

Riddler smirked. "Good. Try to force him to come here if he suddenly changes his mind. I'll make sure to have a surprise waiting."

"Riddler . . ."

"Trust me, Yinsey," the man purred.

Yin gritted her teeth in frustration. Right now she did not have much of a choice.

If someone had told her five days ago that she would be working with the Riddler to catch a serial killer, she would have thought them nuts. Now she had to wonder if she was the one losing it.

Up ahead, the car changed direction again. Though it was on the left side of the street, it abruptly swerved and chose the right at the next corner. The houses were getting older and not as neat now. He was playing right into their hands. Or was he? Maybe this was a trap.

Yin's eyes widened at the thought. "Riddler, you may be in danger too," she said.

No response.

"Riddler!" she cried, her voice gaining an edge. She did not need this right now!

And without warning a figure leaped out of a nearby tree, landing on the hood of the rogue vehicle when it slowed due to a parked car being in its way. The moon caught a glint from a brass staff as it was swung at the car's windshield. The driver yelped in shock and disbelief, cowering as the breaking glass went in every direction.

Riddler reached through the opening, grabbing for the man's gun while holding the sharp point of the question mark crook at the thick neck. The shooter cursed him, wanting to snatch back his weapon but not daring.

Yin leaped out of her own car, her gun held high. "This is the police," she declared. "You're under arrest."

The man cursed her too. "I ain't done nothin'," he protested.

"Would you like me to recite the list?" she retorted. "I'll be sending you a bill for the car."

"What about my car?" he snapped. "Your partner busted the windshield."

Riddler gave him an amused look. Yin was not amused.

"He's not my partner," she said. "You have the right to remain silent. . . ."

But before she could continue, the door on the driver's side flung open, striking her hard enough that she crashed to the pavement. His concentration broken, Riddler's position with the staff wavered. The man grabbed it, shoving it back in an attempt to get the lanky man to fall off the hood. But he did not stick around to see if it worked. Instead he leaped out the open door, beginning to flee down the street.

Yin pushed herself into a sitting position and then off the ground as she gave chase. Before he had gotten far, she was tackling him from behind, bringing him to the road. He yelled and swore, struggling against her as he began to kick himself free.

Then something hard came down on his head. Spots and stars swirled in front of his eyes before he collapsed limply to the ground. The Riddler stood over him, spinning the cane in his hand as though he was trying to imitate Clint Eastwood with a gun.

"Well," he smirked, "are you going to complain about me having my cane now?"

She pushed herself to her knees, grabbing the unconscious man's beefy arms as she wrenched them behind his back. "What you did was reckless," she said, snapping on the handcuffs. "What if he had decided to drive anyway, with you on the hood?"

"I would have jumped off," he replied.

"You might not have had the chance," she said. "The car might have shot over the speed limit to make sure you would fall off. You could have been seriously hurt or even killed."

And she would have been responsible. As long as they were both in the immediate vicinity, she was the one supposed to keep track of what the Riddler was up to. She had not really wanted for them to split up in the first place, but she had conceded that it was necessary in order to cover more ground.

"Oh, I didn't know you cared, Yinsey," Riddler smiled.

Yin gave him a look of annoyance, but before she could think of a comeback, the comlink beeped.

"Yin. Where are you?" Batman's voice asked.

She came to attention. "Riddler and I are still in Garcia Heights," she said. "Someone shot at me and we apprehended him, but I don't think he's the killer."

"I don't think so, either." Batman sounded cold.

Suddenly Yin knew what he was going to say. "You've found a body, haven't you?" she said, her own voice growing grim.

"Yes," Batman said. "It's a guard from Arkham Asylum."