Present

All the Kevlar and leather made it feel like walking through hell, so he heaved a breath of relief as he abandoned the hot July evening for the coolness of the upper east side penthouse; a scene of homicide currently being blamed on his wife. The apartment was clear of people, only housing furniture and cautionary police instruments guarding possible evidence. Even without the cowl's special lenses, Batman crossed the rooms without triggering the alarms.

In the bedroom he took snapshots of the crime scene: shredded mattress from where the victim was undoubtedly grabbed. The broken lamps, each with the same marks of impact, like something hit them, rather than just having crashed to the floor. The detective summed up the major causes of chaos in that room:

The victim's resistance.

The claws.

And...

"A whip," said she.

No, the voice modulator was not broken. Detective Ellen Yin had come to the same conclusion.

Batman moved to find the police detective tracing a gloved hand over the crisp diagonal slash across the kitchen chair.

"You took your time." Yin acknowledged.

"Stuck at work," Batman truthfully told her, but it had barely been 2 hours since Blake's visit to Wayne Enterprise.

"And you're not impaired by last night?" Ellen had been at the celebration party, as John's girlfriend.

"Blake and I left early. Evidently someone needs to babysit Gotham at night. You clocked out after the jewelry store."

Damn Yin for being a good detective! And she was a detective thanks to him. After Rojas had fired her when Lieutenant Gordon was dead, Batman had testified for her when Jim became commissioner and reinstated Yin on Batman's word, even though she wasn't his biggest fan then. But after learning what he did for her, and as she became closer to Blake, Yin eventually became an ally. In the awkward silence where they stood, Bruce noted to bring her in on the secret before she figured it out herself (and potentially damage her relationship with John). He reckoned it would have to be soon.

Yin spoke first as she walked over to the spilled milk in front of the fridge. It had been left untouched especially for him. Batman walked to her, pressing the button on the glove wrist that activated the sensors in the fingertips. The milk's cellular data was sent to the bat computer for further analysis, but the claw marks on the fridge had silver residue. Catwoman's fingernails were silver tipped. He tried to put the thought away but Yin didn't let him.

"You know what I'm gonna say." Yin warned. It was a case concerning Catwoman that had made Detective Yin and Batman start off on the wrong foot.

Batman sighed.

"Looks like Catwoman."

"Mm, so bats aren't as blind as they say," Yin got ahead of herself when he seemingly confirmed her conclusion.

"I said it looks like she did it. From the claws and the whip and the...milk," the milk was too much even for Selina.
"But this isn't her memo. Catwoman targets public facilities: jewelry stores, museums..."

"Maybe it was personal?" Yin suggested. She hated when Batman shut her down.

Personal, but for whom? Selina, or this...

...copycat.

"Where's the-"

"The body's at the morgue. But we've got pictures though, and the outline. John supervised." Yin was proud to cut him off.

He noticed.

The Dark Knight studied the pictures pinned to the wall. The aging socialite, (Martha Wayne had said rich women didn't like being called "old", even if they were touching 65) in her pencil skirt dress and an extra sequined blazer, was bound up in a whip, her wrists caught in a pair of... fuzzy handcuffs. There was something in her mouth, probably from keeping her screams quiet. The picture next to that one was of a...

Hairball.

He was definitely annoyed, and now getting mad, concerning this over elaborate scheme to frame Catwoman.

The photos of the body and the outline on the floor clearly indicated that the mode of death was the brutal hack of the victim's right foot; cut off just above the ankle.

"The blood was fresher than the bounds on the victim's body." Yin provided him information the pictures could not.

So, the victim had bled to death.

The whole scene, especially the missing foot, created an annoying tick in his brain.

"Someone run her financials yet?" Why did he ask? He didn't want to answer either question.

"You know how the rich people are. The first person who got here was her lawyer! Ordered a subpoena, it's taking a while. You gotta better chance sneaking in."

He was gonna do that either way.

"You thinking it's personal?" This time, it was a genuine conclusion.

"I don't know," he lied.

Catwoman had no physical part in this homicide, but she was the reason they both had been here. Him, and the person who had killed this woman and gone through great lengths to frame Catwoman.

"I'll let you know what I find," Bats said to Yin and disappeared the way he had come. Ellen sighed and rolled her eyes, then called John as she too left the apartment.

Batman drove back down towards the city. Going around downtown was the faster way back to the manor, but he wanted to catch the real Catwoman in the act. Parking in the back alley, he grappled up to the roof of the building standing opposite the Cat's Eye. There she was, her form silhouetted by the studio lights, walking around with patrons and potential buyers.

It was Gotham tradition to buy whatever Mrs. Wayne was selling, but it did help that what she sold was captivating for her audience. Of course, he could never have enough of seeing his wife, but tonight he had work. Work to keep her safe, so never in any future would he have to see her behind glass; bulletproof or framed. Batman stood up from his perched position, his cape billowing behind him, and after a few more seconds of glancing, he jumped back down to the Tumbler and drove straight to the Batcave, to try to get to the bottom of this feline felony.