After his experience with the Joker, Robin had managed to apprehend some vandals before getting to the garage, where he had found Barbara.
"Nice cars." she began simply. "How did you find this place?"
"The owner vacated long ago. People knew about that, of course, but they leave it open, like Vincent Falcone is still trying to do business here, or that he will as soon as he's allowed."
"You look a little worse for wear." she said, apparently trying to shift to a new subject as he showed her to the elevator shaft. She probably doesn't want to lecture me on how precarious this hideout is.
"I ran into Joker, who apparently has a total of two henchmen now, but he'll need more than that to get into Blackgate. He's still alive, I'm almost sure of it, but it'll be a few days before he attempts anything. I also ran into some kids who were tagging the courthouse, and one of them got a punch in on my face because I was tired." Robin explained while putting his arm around her and grappling up the shaft to the offices.
"Wait, you ran into him of all people and then went after vandals?"
"I don't go after after vandals, I saw them drawing shitty Anarky logos on Solomon Wayne's courthouse, swooped in, beat them, and radioed Inspector Bard for pickup." Grayson might have had a similar reaction before he had learned about Broken Window theory, so he spared her the explanation Bruce had given him, figuring she already knew it.
"Dick, the mind of a criminal is largely unknowable, as are all others. Criminal activity, however, follows certain noticeable trends. When you see a window with more than one pane and one is broken, chances are all of them are broken, if not almost all of them. This is most likely because when the first pane breaks, the window is seen as entirely broken, and therefore it is permissible to break the rest of it, even though doing so is unnecessary. When you want to create a law abiding society, you have to enforce all of the laws, not just the ones with which everyone agrees, and not just the ones with the steepest penalties. Not enforcing laws against jaywalking, drug use, and public drunkenness, even if on an investigation for another crime, requires the police to ignore crimes that are taking place, meaning those crimes will take place significantly more, and worse yet, that the police don't care about what's illegal and what isn't."
Barbara returned his mind to the present. "Bard's an asshole. You don't even like him."
"I disagree with the inspector on many counts, yes, but your father and I aren't exactly on speaking terms, and he's a better cop anyway. Why call him to pick up criminals when I can waste Bard's time?" Robin found himself handing the girl her gear, or at least what Batman had managed to make of it. "This is a grapnel gun, you can't get something like this without money. The ultra-light cable is ejected with pressure and when the hook hits something or the line fully extends, the motor kicks in, reeling you up. It's battery powered and don't forget it. You need a new suit as well, which is why he had all this Kevlar and Nth metal laid out. I'm guessing he didn't know your exact dimensions."
"What's that material?"
"That's the cape, when we finish with the rest of the costume. When you need to glide, the carbon fiber 'fingers' become rigid to hold up the fabric, providing air resistance."
"Uh huh. Do they do that automatically, or do they need a stimulus?" Damn you.
"It'll be there when you need it." He picked up a freeze pellet, figuring she may run into Bouncer. "We repurposed this from Victor Fries. When we're out of it, we're out of it. I don't know how it works."
"Where are my explosives?"
"You'll get those. Batman started me with a light belt to reduce weight and confusion. Only when I found myself regularly needing gadgets I didn't have would I add them to my inventory. This method taught me to improvise when necessary, which is something I still do. I also can't set you up with specialized optics for your cowl. I don't know how they work."
"Did he have them?"
"Yes, but only after training his senses properly. If he hadn't, he would have eventually found that they were limiting him rather than helping him." Robin picked up a few electronic devices. "You'll have a wrist communicator and a solid state drive, however."
"Totally awesome." Barbara responded without any particular enthusiasm.
"When the costume is finished, get some mobility training somewhere no one is going to see you. Burnley is quiet enough at this point, but I need you to keep an eye out for Joker when you see him, Bouncer, or Tally Man." Definitely the right move giving her the files.
"What are you going to be doing?"
"Tomorrow night I'm going after Hamilton Hill, or more accurately the man pretending to be him. He'll lead me to Great White Shark, the key to taking down the rest of Black Mask's plans. I don't have a lead on Sofia Falcone."
"See you at school, I guess."
The premonition would have to wait before realizing itself.
In the mandatory study hall, he noticed a tv set on across the hall. One of the Green Lanterns could be seen on Gotham News Network, though he knew not if it was Hal Jordan or Kyle Rayner. It's like it'll really make a difference. At least I never allowed myself to believe Barry would be the last one. I'd better get through with my work. Robin suppressed a sigh. There's nothing for it right now. This is why I can't concentrate and have trouble learning anything. I guess it was easier before because I wasn't as worried about the city being ruined by the mobs or destroyed by the psychopaths. He had long since been aware that 'psychopath' was not the technically correct diagnosis for most of the villains, but it functioned without having to call them 'crazies'. In reality, they most likely possessed a multitude of different neurological disorders, but this was neither provable nor treatable. The human mind was more complex than the simplistic explanations for behavior that people generally took at face value. From his observations, even his fellow students who had yet to take a class on the subject were already diagnosing total strangers, and they treated the information generated not as a possibility, or even a theory, but as a proven fact, like water molecules having two hydrogen atoms and one of oxygen. That alone, of course, would bother him little. He accepted the presence of things like palm reading and astrology, but that was because they had no impact on the justice system or anything else of import.
"Machin, what are you looking-"
"Sorry, sir." He answered promptly, returning to his work. I've been drawing too much attention to myself. By being silent most of the time and doing well, I've created a character, someone distinctly not normal. As a result, people don't just forget about me every time they see me.
When he managed to get out of school, there was a note on one of his usual observation points. He read it aloud while pulling a vine out from between two stones.
"What's flying, humorless, unjust and mean? Who's clever, debonair, productive and green?" Is Riddler just comparing himself to Batman again? He's done it before, always trying to outwit the famed Dark Knight just to prove he's better. In Batman's estimation, Nigma was smart enough, but it was all he really had going for him apart from an odd sense of dedication. Why is this helping Sofia Falcone? I suppose it's possible he's simply doing this because he wants to. She might be paying off some sort of debt to him as well. Maybe I'll tell him he'll never prove he was smarter than Batman- no, he would be happy to win by default.
Robin doubted he could track down Riddler with any degree of haste; it occurred to him that Nigma never really had to appear in person for most things, and did so only because it amused him. He glided towards the city hall, knowing the mayor was making an appearance, in this instance telling the public that the traffic problems were no cause for concern. Whoever the hell is playing at being Hill is either close to Great White, or he has a handler nearby. Scanning the crowd, he picked out a woman with a partially exposed tattoo on her shoulder. Honing in, he could tell it was a black mask. I suppose going around in a full head metal mask isn't very feminine- or discreet for that matter. She probably didn't notice when her hair moved. Looking closely at her, he determined he had never seen her before. She had long, black hair and wore an elegant, but ultimately nondescript dress, somewhat formal for a press conference, at least by his own measure. After all, I'm wearing a red and green suit with a black and yellow cape. He waited for an opportunity to land behind her, and found it as she was leaving, walking into the government building without anyone attempting to slow her down. Finding a grate on the side of the building, he worked his way in, finding himself overlooking the main hall. He caught sight of her taking the stairs up to a small meeting room. Figures. The speech is mostly over, so she's done here. Unfortunately, I'll have to follow her on foot. Robin acted as he predicted, silently and without attracting notice. When the black of the cape's exterior simply hung over his shoulders, he looked almost entirely unassuming, at least from the back.
"Yes, it's taken care of. Black Mask's men will fall for the trap, most likely." He plastered himself to the wall as soon as he heard the woman's voice upstairs. She's not alone, of course. Why did I think she would be alone? Then again, why is she working against Sionis? Finding the door from which the noise originated, he entered the adjacent one, listening through the thin walls.
"You're sure?" It was a man's voice.
"Of course. Their immunity to fear only makes them more susceptible to other forms of suggestion." Hill was set up by Black Mask or possibly the shark. That means there's some sort of trap for one of them around here. She must be thinking as I did.
"I'll take your word for it. I need to be off." Robin heard footsteps coming for the door. After the man exited, he entered.
"Who are you and what do you know about Great White Shark?" He began simply as she looked up to her unexpected guest.
"I'm no friend of his. His actual name is White, though I'm sure you know that." The woman began. "He started out as an embezzler, ran with the wrong crowd in Arkham, and I believe he was disfigured by a cryogenic chamber if I remember correctly. Currently, he employs Cluemaster in Amusement Mile." Is it actually possible that I have some sort of ally?
"In that case, you shouldn't mind sharing what you know about Hill."
"It was probably Cluemaster's work. Just before midnight on Wednesday, he had a call. It was only a few minutes long from the phone records, but he left immediately after taking it."
"Knowing him, it was probably some pointless trivia question. He went outside to ask what it was-"
"That was when he stepped into one of Cluemaster's traps. Simple, but effective enough." The black clad woman said, interrupting as she picked up a large red flower from the window sill. "The petals are wilting on the edges. It hasn't been watered since the real mayor was alive." Of course- White- or the knock off Riddler- must have scrubbed this room of any of Hill's DNA.
"That's how we prove the two of them aren't the same person. You're pretty good at this."
"I have a PhD." she said with a smile, handing him the plant. "You'll want to take a large enough sample. Chances are, there's only a hair follicle."
"Of course." He said, taking the entire plant. "I have to be going, though- I'm very busy."
"It shows." the woman in black said as he left. What the hell was that?
Doing stretches on a roof moments later, Robin found his wounds had almost entirely healed, with the exception of his bones, which were still fragile. Cluemaster's not really a physical challenge, though. If I have him down, the shark will be down to his gang, and even some of them will most likely leave. I'll have to switch my attention to the Falcone faction... or possibly Joker. Looking down below him as he crossed the bridge, he noticed a significant backup, but this was within ordinary limits for the past few weeks. What the hell am I thinking, I'm not a traffic cop.
He could see a Gotham City Radio tower as he glided, and decided it was at least probable that Cluemaster was there, as he usually enjoyed proving his superior knowledge against others in public. All jokes aside, he actually knows a lot about a range of subjects. Considering he's also perfectly sane, he could probably make something out of himself if he weren't obsessed with finding out who Batman is and kidnapping people just to make him give a damn.
Landing on the roof, he pressed his ear to the surface to listen out for any activity. At the sound of an exaggerated ticking noise and a muffled voice, Robin guessed he was doing another one of his quiz shows. Gotham buildings were constructed with the design philosophy of workmen being able to get into the structure and repair it without creating an obstruction, and he was mostly grateful for that. Prying a vent cover off a wall with his staff, Robin entered what looked to be an electrical room, where several connections were rearranged. Cluemaster probably intended to broadcast his victory- he doesn't realize it isn't working.
"You, sir, Darius. How about telling us the name of the theory that states the benefit of assigning low skilled tasks to low skilled people?"
"Uhh... comparative advantage?" Robin searched for the source of the ticking noise, but he failed to see it anywhere on the table with the microphones, where his enemy had three contestants handcuffed. I'm sure they can hear the noise as well. Killing is usually out of his purview, though.
"That's exactly right. Martha, what is the reason we are most likely not in a computer simulation?" Is it possible he has it in the pipes? The force of the blast would be significantly diminished.
"Well, I would think that if we were, we would never have realized." The voice showed the age of the contestant. This animal, what the fuck is he doing?
"I'll accept it, though there is a different answer on the card." Whatever Robin could say about Cluemaster, the games were basically fair, since he hated the very concept of cheating. Unable to locate the bomb either from the sound or from any visual cue, he resolved that the only way of saving the hostages was to separate the detonator from their captor. "Shin-tian. What is the capital and largest city in Niger?" There was a significant pause as he scanned the room for any kind of switch.
"Can you repeat the question?" Stalling for time- does he hear me? Robin kicked through the vent, hoping to take down the hostage taker before he could react. As soon as he did, Cluemaster activated a switch, electrifying the floor, forcing him onto the table.
"This isn't like you, Arthur. You don't threaten people with bombs." The contestants stared at him with a mixture of shock and relief.
"Obviously- and that hasn't changed a bit. What has changed is I've become more powerful, thanks to my benefactors- I have all the little special effects I never had for my show. Electric floors, trapdoors, mysterious ticking noises, and even spindly mechanical arms that protrude from the walls to strike people." Robin felt a pinprick from behind. "Did I neglect to mention the darts? You'll receive the antidote if you win the game." That, or I could force you to tell me. His body almost immediately felt sluggish. "Really, Boy Wonder, you're off your game- I can only imagine why." He ended with a laugh before a club faithfully surfaced from behind a panel in the wall and struck the contestant who obviously hadn't known the answer.
"I think... you know." he managed to respond. It's a slow acting poison. He likes to drag his games out, after all.
"Of course, but why spoil the fun? Now it's time for your question." Robin took in his surroundings while Cluemaster was basking in his success. There was a dart gun on a rotating mount protruding from the wall behind him. He detected the sounds of metal springs when he shifted his weight One of the legs of the table is partially on top of a trapdoor. As they had not been apparent when surveying the room, he guessed the trap doors had been perfectly flush with the floor, then the edges were painted together. "Now, Robin. Let us begin."