It was a relief to get out of the wheelchair and the cave and not have to pretend to believe he had a broken leg. What was it Dick had told him once, after filling in as Batman… "The job could be fun, if you let it."

Making his way around the rooftops of Gotham City, Batman could admit to himself that even if he would never use the word fun, it felt good to be in action again. His and Robin's teamwork flowed as smoothly as ever; without even having to talk about it they took slightly different paths, looking around in opposite directions to cover as much ground as possible while they passed through the city.

It was Robin who spotted an ongoing break-in at an exclusive jewellery store a few blocks away. Batman made a quick calculation – the fastest way would be to take the car, parked around the corner.

"To the Batmobile," he said.

Robin didn't hesitate to make his way down in his own unique fashion; leaping off the roof, using a flagpole some ten stories down to make a flip, bouncing off the opposing wall and finally doing a triple somersault to control his landing. Batman's mood lightened for a moment, looking at the boy's flips. Somehow, he never felt so downright bland and boring as when he was traversing the rooftops with Dick Grayson, no matter his age.

The playful acrobatics made him think about Tim – would he have realised that Dick was Robin by this time? Or was there still be time to impress upon Dick the importance of never doing a quadruple in the field, because it was far too recognisable a move when you were one of a handful of people in the world who could perform it.

Right, who was he kidding, Bruce thought with a snort while he made his way down. Dick always thought on his feet; if he believed that a quadruple was the best move for a situation, he would do it, no matter how many warnings Batman gave him. Besides, hadn't Tim said he'd seen Robin do a quadruple quite early in his career? It might very well be too late already, even if he would have wanted to change the future.

Reaching the Batmobile, where Robin was already waiting, he let go of all thoughts about his third Robin to concentrate on the ongoing robbery. The Batmobile swiftly took them to the store, and they jumped out of the car and into the store.

"Mind if I go through," Robin quipped when he jumped up and used a lamp to swing himself at the man closest at hand.

Bruce and Dick had stopped far too many break-ins or robberies during their years as the Dynamic Duo for Batman to keep track of them all, but during the fight he realised that some things felt familiar; as if he almost could recall what was going to happen. The sight of a man in checkered blazer staring at Robin and raising his gun triggered a reaction in him; he didn't know what was about to happen, only that it scared him, and Batman hastily abandoned the fight with two of the burglars to throw himself at Robin, effectively tackling the boy to the ground.

He was up again a moment later and turned to face the gang. By now he could remember what had happened and he knew that the bullet hadn't actually hit Robin, but it had been close; close enough that the bullet tore the red vest.

Perhaps he had overreacted – but he couldn't be dissatisfied that he had avoided the situation. An inch closer would have been sufficient to give Robin a nasty wound.

Unfortunately, Robin obviously didn't share his mentor's feelings on the subject. He was on his feet again, sending a glare at Batman before he turned to confront one of the men, running a few steps for speed before jumping into a handspring, coming out of it with a flip and landed a hard kick at his target; a manoeuvre that gave him far more reach and strength of impact than his size would account for. The man fell to the ground with a dull thud.

In a matter of minutes, the floor of the jewellery store was littered with would-be robbers, glass shards and expensive ornaments.

"Robin, call the police from the Batmobile. I'll be out in a minute," Batman instructed.

Usually, Robin would have answered with some kind of pun, or at least a chipper "Right, Batman." This time, all he got for an answer was a grumble before the boy left the store.

Batman mentally prepared himself for the upcoming discussion while he tied the men up for the police. He knew very well how quickly a conversation with an angry Dick Grayson could turn into a heated quarrel. The fiery conflicts between himself, being overprotective, and Robin trying to break free and be his own man should still be several years away; he fully intended to keep it that way.

As soon as he had taken his seat and started the car, Robin turned to him.

"What was that about? I had everything under control."

"None of us has eyes in the back, Robin. The man was aiming at you," Batman said in a level voice.

"… You could have told me to duck, you know. As you usually do."

The idea that it had been normal behaviour for him to simply tell a kid to duck when he had a gun pointed at his back made Batman, once more, question what he had been thinking when he was young. But Robin was pouting rather than glaring, so he had obviously managed to avoid a temperamental outburst. The boy was still young enough not to be bucking for independence at every turn.

However, he wanted to be on the safe side and knowing how much Dick prized validation he continued, "I'm not taking any chances, chum. I've only got one of you."

His efforts were rewarded with a quick flash of a grin. Batman let his lips curl into a quick smile in return.

They continued the evening's patrol in the car. Batman drove around the city, keeping an eye open for trouble while listening on the police radio. It didn't take long before they picked up a report about a murder in the Explorer's club's geographical museum. The body of a Mr Challoner, one of the club members, had been found in an exhibition hall.

Batman felt a jolt of chill run through his body as he realised that he remembered the case – and that he could have stopped the murder if he had kept track of when it was going to happen. If only he could remember more details about past cases…

His grip on the steering wheel hardened; he would at least make sure that the murderer was caught – just as he had done before. The car came to a screeching halt when Batman stood on the brake and turned the steering wheel to change direction and go straight to the club.

In the corner of his eye, he could see Robin looking surprised at him – no doubt the boy thought that the news didn't warrant such a violent turn since no lives seemed to be at stake.

The Batmobile arrived at the Explorer´s club well before the police, and they found the club chairman, Stephen Skinner, waiting at the door.

"Dear me, Batman! I was waiting for the police, I just called them," the man exclaimed.

"So we heard, Mr Skinner," said Batman – as Bruce Wayne, he was well acquainted with the members of the exclusive club. "We just happened to arrive first. May we see the crime scene?"

The man scratched his neck.

"Well, I suppose the police won't mind if you solve the murder for them," he muttered and made a gesture for the costumed vigilantes to follow him.

"Six of us were having dinner to discuss our effort to solve a puzzle that our late secretary left for us. Then we went to our rooms – we usually retreat after dinner and meet up a few hours later. But I wanted to talk to Challoner about something he said; he claimed he knew how to find all of the clues himself. When he wasn't in his room I started looking for him," Skinner explained while he showed the way into the exhibition halls.

He led them to a huge room, dominated by a model continent with mountain ranges, rivers, grassland and lush rainforest.

"Why – it's South America!" Robin exclaimed.

Skinner stopped away from the giant model, letting his eyes flicker over to the dead body laying on top of the model, approximately over Paraguay.

"It's William Challoner…" he mumbled.

Batman carefully made his way up on the model to examine the body, with Robin at his heels. He already knew that the man had been killed by a poison dart, of course, but he needed to show it to his audience.

"An unusual method – a poisoned dart," he commented, pointing to the small dart in the man's back. "It's the type certain South American Indians shoots from a blow-gun."

"Gosh, Batman, it's as if he were actually killed in a South American jungled, instead of on a map."

"The murderer had a good reason to use a dart. A gun makes noise, and he didn't want to be caught in the act."

"I wouldn't have found the body, unless I had followed him," Skinner put in.

"The murderer probably guessed Challoner's idea and killed him in order not to have to share the money."

"Yes, but where are the other members? Shouldn't they have noticed that something were up when you called the police?" Robin asked.

"They must be in their rooms. The doors are thick and soundproof," Skinner answered.

No sooner had the chairman explained the absence of other people when they picked up the sound of approaching steps.

"Now they're coming," Robin remarked.

Batman, however, remembered that it was not the other members but rather a band of robbers who were approaching. He put a finger over his mouth, to keep the others from talking, and motioned them to come with him to a position beside the entrance. When three men made their way in, Batman stepped out of the shadows. He knew that he should know the name of the leader, but at the moment the memory stayed annoyingly out of reach.

The little gang stiffened and gasped "Batman"; after a moments hesitation, they looked ready to put up a fight, but they were no match for the vigilante; he threw one of the men at another, and they both stumbled to the ground.

"It's Puddler Powers!" Robin exclaimed, before throwing himself into the fight. The third man took a swing at the boy, but he expertly used the man's momentum to throw him down on the model.

"South America – here he comes!"

The man that Batman, with Robin's help, could identify as Puddler Powers jumped up and fled out from the hall, yelling at Batman to keep away. The crimefighters rushed after him and ended up in another exhibition hall; in this one, most of the floor consisted of a model of Antarctica. Surprisingly, the room was not empty; a man, evidently one of the club members, was walking over the giant map and looked up with a surprised frown at the intrusion.

"Can't even study this model without being interrupted," the man muttered.

Powers gripped a harpoon from the exhibition, holding it threateningly.

"Stay away, or I'll stick this harpoon into you!"

Batman shielded his partner with a low, "Watch it!", before he went for Powers at the same moment as the man threw the weapon.

Batman heard the heavy thud of the harpoon hitting something hard and the shrill cry of someone hurt or scared; he had tackled Powers to the ground and for a second fear gripped him; he tried to calm himself with the absence of any memory of Robin being hurt by a harpoon.

A second later he relaxed to the sound of the boy's joke, "What a whale of difference a harpoon can make!"

Batman exhaled slowly and turned to look; the club member that had been examining the model was staring wildly at the harpoon that had embedded itself mere inches away. At the same time, Skinner rushed into the room and drew his conclusions.

"Splendid work, Batman… You've caught the murderer."

"Murdered… Who has been murdered?" said the club member at the same time as Powers protested, "You're lying! I didn't kill nobody!"

Batman took a firm grip of Power's jacket and lifted him up, staring intently at the man.

"You can't pin nothing on me, Batman! I didn't even know nobody was dead! A little while ago Rusty phoned and said this joint would be easy to knock off…"

Batman let his threatening silence work a few more seconds before he rasped, "Can you prove it?"

"… Honest, Batman… You know I wouldn't have the nerve to lie to you…"

"The man's story is incredible! If he didn't kill Challoner, one of the other explorers did… And I refuse to believe that any of them is a murderer," Skinner protested.

"Besides, how could this Rusty know whether the Explorer's club was easy to rob or not?" the man who had been searching the Antarctica map added.

Again, Batman kept silent, not being able to remember enough to answer. And again, Robin came to his aid.

"I bet Rusty didn't make the call at all. Someone pretended to be him and made the call to get a scapegoat for the murderer."

The boy looked at Batman, no doubt expecting him to elaborate; the older vigilante gave him a small nod as a sign that he should continue.

"It was in the newspaper editorial several days ago. It criticised the police for not being able to get the goods on Rusty and Puddler, both known criminals. And it mentioned that Rusty had been sick."

Batman loosened his grip on Puddler; by now the man made no indication of trying to escape but listened intently and nodded when Robin spoke.

"The kid got it. I thought his voice sounded funny over the phone, but I blamed it on his cold!"

Batman turned to the club chairman.

"It would appear that one of your members did murder Challoner… And lured Puddler here to pin the crime on him."

Skinner seemed to deflate, hearing this words.

"I… I can't believe it…"

"Let's tie up our three 'guests' for the police, and round up your members. Then we will talk."


Dick thinking about how being Batman could be fun is from Batman # 689. Written by Judd Winick, art by Mark Bagley and Rob Hunter.

I've also stolen one line from "Heroes by proxy", written by Don Cameron, in Batman # 29.

Both panels are on my Tumblr. blog/northoftheroad

The main plot is from "Voyage into Villainy", written by Joe Samachson, in Batman # 27.