Chapter 10
Jonathan Crane was not an easy man to contact. Part of that was because he was one of the most sinister archfiends in Gotham, which automatically meant that he was somebody you didn't have on Speed Dial, but most of it was because of the nature of the crimes that he committed or, if you wanted to use his term for it, experiments. Crane --- or, as he was known to the Gotham police, the Scarecrow— had a unique and unnerving quirk towards crime in a city full of criminals with very strange modus operandi's. A former psychology professor at the University of Gotham , he had been fired for what had been considered an unhealthy approach to science—in particular the study of fear and its effect on the human body. Before his professorship at the university had been revoked by the board, Crane had successfully developed a mixture of chemicals that were capable on invoking the subject's greatest fears. The problem with his approach to his work was very simple--- before his study had been shut down, six subjects had been driven insane by exposure to this chemical. Three of them had later committed suicide.
His medical license revoked, Crane had resorted to illegal actions in order to obtain funding and subjects for his work. Simultaneously, in order to hide his identity, he had developed his alter ego—one based to represent his own longstanding fear, a phobia of crows.
It was inevitable that a person of his reputation would end up eliciting the suspicions of Batman. Rather than regard him as a figure of terror, Crane regarded him as the ultimate scientific quandary; someone who perpetuated the art of fear without being subject to its overall effects. What exactly was this man's greatest terror? Crane had not said as much to anyone but he felt that unraveling this particular riddle would be the pinnacle of his studies, not to mention the envy of every two-bit thug in Gotham.
At one point, Crane had managed to expose Batman to one of his more potent formulas. However, like almost every other fiend in Gotham, his efforts to unmask the Bat had ultimately proved futile. Other efforts had been equally unsuccessful. Somehow he had managed to survive exposure without any revelations as to what his fear was. He had managed to deduce that this was reared in some kind of childhood trauma but he was unable to delve any further. And so, unable to achieve this goal, he moved to other areas of research. This involved an expansion of his studies onto lesser people.
For several years, his vision had been limited to those in criminal enterprises. While Crane regarded most of the other criminals in Gotham as beneath him, he did realize their importance in the city. He therefore realized that it would be scientifically expedient, not to mention profitable, if he were to determine what was the greatest terrors of these archfiends. For some, such as Two-Face and The Ventriloquist, it was evident even to a layman what their idiosyncrasies were and one could therefore easily determine their fears. Others, such as Maxie Zeus and The Riddler were harder nuts to crack (figuratively speaking) and had taken a greater level of work. The crime bosses such as Maroni and Falcone presented some challenge, but for the most part Scarecrow left them alone. These men left themselves with little chance for exposure. It was far simpler and more efficient to work through men lower down the food chain in their organization. In the end, the effects could be far more devastating.
It was for all these reasons that Scarecrow was so reclusive. He rarely came out into public, usually delivering his chemicals through secondary parties while he observed from a discreet distance. The police had been casing him for months but he was able to elude them (if you were an archfiend in Gotham City you learned very rapidly how to make yourself well-nigh invisible). However, even on the rare occasion that he had been taken into custody, it was never for very long. A few weeks afterwards , upon receiving a package in the mail, the prosecutor would suddenly and quickly dismiss the charges, the judge would throw the case out of court, or a witness would recant his testimony. They would always give weak reasons but the underlying truth was clear.
They were afraid.
Despite all this, however, the Scarecrow knew better than to be in public view. The number of people who knew where he was at any given time was very small. Scarecrow made sure it stayed small. What contact people had with him was through the telephone and via email, both methods he made sure were untraceable back to him.
Which is why he was very surprised one evening when someone contacted him via the Internet. The message said: "Am a great admirer of your work. Want to discuss taking it to the next level." It also strongly implied that he would be in Crime Alley at 2AM the next evening and that it was in his best interests to be there.
The Scarecrow was amused by the brazenness of this sender but was also intrigued by the phrasing of the note, as well as how whoever it was had gotten it to him in the first place. Backtracking the email revealed that it didn't come from Batman or any of his friends nor, for that matter, any of the low-level thugs in Gotham. It could have come from one of the other archfiends, but it was rare that any supervillain would even say hello to another one, let alone express high regard for another's work. The crime syndicates did their best to avoid contact with anyone 'abnormal'—they were too much of a risk. So who was it?
The Scarecrow was well aware of what had been going on over the past few months. All of the scientific evidence pointed to the possibility of it being the work of a new player in Gotham. However, despite all the activity in the underworld, no one had found out who it was—mainly because those who looked into it kept turning up dead or more often, disappearing altogether. This certain note seemed to be an engraved invitation by this individual.
Another man--- even another villain--- might have been frightened about making contact with this unknown terror, but the Scarecrow was not one of them. In a perverse way he felt honored that he had been the first contact. In fact, for the first time in awhile, he was intrigued by another villain. However, despite his interest, he was not a fool.
Which was why when he came to Crime Alley at 1:45 the next night, the Scarecrow made sure not only that he was heavily armed, but that he also had two henchmen loaded for bear guarding him from both sides as well as two snipers in a building just above the street.
His henchmen were not as sanguine about what might happen. They weren't shaking in their boots but they were clearly rattled. Being a man of science this interested him.
"So," he said, "I know from experience that you are two of my toughest associates."
"Um, it's nice of you to say that, Boss," said the one on his left.
"Yet it is clear to me that you are frightened of someone."
"Um---um---"
"Yes, we are," said the one on his right calmly. He knew how to read his boss better than his comrade and knew that honesty was all that he accepted from his lackeys.
"Are you afraid of the man I am about to meet?" Scarecrow asked almost casually.
"A little, Boss," his second guard said. "I mean, if this is the guy behind everything that's happening now, he could be dangerous."
"Indeed," said Scarecrow quietly. "A man capable of devouring people, who has wreaked havoc on the underbelly of this city, and who seems to be able to manipulate both felons and policeman as if they were so many chessmen, that…" he shook his head, "is a man to be frightened of."
"If it is just one guy," said his first henchman. "I hear it's an army."
The Scarecrow raised an eyebrow--- or would have, if it wasn't painted on. "An army?" He spoke in his most scientific manner. "Well, that would exponentially more frightening, wouldn't you say?"
"I'll say."
"But if that is so frightening," he spoke almost as if he was teaching again, "why remain here? Why not run off into the night?"
"Because you ordered us to be here." The first lackey spoke a little too enthusiastically.
Scarecrow made a mental note to give the man a bonus for his honesty. "So fear of the known is prevailing over the fear of the unknown?" he said in his best Socratic matter.
"Known, unknown, doesn't make much of a difference in the end, does it?"
The Scarecrow's two flunkies were so unnerved that they both nearly dropped the guns they were carrying. Though he gave no outward sign of it, Scarecrow was mildly concerned as well. He had been looking straight ahead at nothing for the last twenty minutes, yet suddenly there were three figures standing less than ten feet away. It wasn't like they had come out of nowhere, they had literally come out of nowhere. This was new and, while Scarecrow admired novelty in a lot of things, this wasn't one of them—particularly if it gave the strangers the edge.
Trying to regain his advantage, he gave a quick look over the three new arrivals. Two of them were tall, broadly muscular men dressed in dark coats and cowboy boots. The one in the middle, however, drew Scarecrow's attention, mainly because he seemed so… ordinary. He wasn't as big or as strong as his two companions; his face, though scarred, was bland, his hair was neatly combed, and he was wearing a non-descript blue suit. Scarecrow was reminded of an English professor who wasn't very prominent at an alumni function. Despite all that Scarecrow was convinced that he, not the thugs on either side of him, was the source of power. He was the one who needed to be watched the closest.
"What do you mean by that?" Scarecrow wanted to gauge the new man's cunning.
"You mean fear of the known versus fear of the unknown?" The man in the blue suit spoke softly, "I have found in my life that it matters very little what is scaring people as long as they are afraid. Fear is a powerful enough motivator on its own that it doesn't need to be moderated by specifics."
"Interesting theory," said Scarecrow. "However there isn't a lot of scientific evidence to back that up."
Blue Suit shrugged. " Well I've never been much for the science part of fear. That's one of the reasons that I wanted to meet with you in the first place."
"You don't care much for science but you call yourself an admirer of my work?" Scarecrow was beginning to feel a little offended.
"You misunderstand me." A big grin appeared on Blue Suit's face that Scarecrow knew had absolutely no good will behind it. "I am a great admirer of the end result, and there are so few people out there --- even within my own circle --- who appreciate such things that it is rare to find someone who takes as deep and sweeping an interest in it as I do."
"That's rather odd, considering that the main element of crime is fear." Scarecrow knew that this conversation would be seen as borderline absurd even by his colleagues, but this man was clearly hiding something and he wanted to drug it out of him.
"Again we are speaking at cross-purposes. Crime is merely my vocation. While this field is one that continually expands, these are my co-workers, not my colleagues."
"And who are the people in your circle?"
"That's just it."
What happened next occurred so fast that Scarecrow almost missed it. Blue suit's face seemed to shift. His eyes, which he could barely make out in the darkness, suddenly began to glow. The ridge between his nose and forehead became lined and his teeth became fang-like.
"They're not people."
Despite the fact that he was looking death in the face, Scarecrow didn't show the slightest sign of fear--- he was far more fascinated then afraid. His henchmen, however, lost whatever measure of composure they still had and began very slowly to back away. Scarecrow could have ordered them to stand fast but he was far more curious as to what was going to happen next.
It was the scientist in him.
For several seconds the man in the blue suit just looked at the three of them, then he nodded his head to the left. This was apparently a signal to the men on either side of him because seconds later their faces had changed as well.
They came at him. For a split second Scarecrow thought that he was in some danger, but the two thugs merely brushed past him without even a glance.
His flunkies realized what was happening because they began firing their weapons at Blue Suit's thugs. At least four of the bullets hit home but the thugs didn't fall or even slow down. His henchmen weren't cowards but this threat clearly unnerved because they began to run away. The thugs responded to this by running faster than Scarecrow was sure that mere man was capable of. In less than thirty seconds they had caught up with Scarecrow's flunkies.
The flunkies began begging for their lives but Scarecrow knew that it was a futile exercise. The looks he had seen on Blue Suit's men showed that they would offer no mercy. His men, big and brawny as they were, began to scream like babies—first in fear, then in pain.
Scarecrow watched for several seconds impassively before finally turning away.
"I thought you had a stronger stomach," said Blue Suit quietly.
"I've seen all I needed to," Scarecrow walked towards Blue Suit. "An impressive demonstration. May I ask why I was so privileged with this performance?"
"I wanted to show you what I and my people are capable of."
"And by people, you mean vampires."
Blue Suit nodded. "If you want to be so crude."
"Well, as impressive as that is, Mister…" Scarecrow trailed off.
Blue Suit gave a small bow. "Prince Nicholae."
Scarecrow considered this. "Prince? You have royal blood in your veins?"
"On several occasions." said Nicholae with a wide grin.
Scarecrow had a feeling that this was supposed to be a bon mot, but he wasn't sure exactly how to take it. So he decided to move on. "Would you mind calling off your lackeys?"
Suddenly Scarecrow realized that Nicholae's men had stopped--- feeding is what it had sounded like--- and were now standing on either side of him looking poised for action.
"Who are you calling a lackey?" said the one on his left.
"Pretty fancy talk for a man dressed as a rag doll." said the one on the right.
"Were I you, I wouldn't get on Pike and Lyle's bad side." commented Nicholae. "They used to ride with the Daltons before they were turned. "
"Ike said we were the meanest sonbitches he'd ever rode with." Lyle said with a trace of pride.
"Well, this is all very fascinating but would you mind explaining why I was invited here in the first place?" Scarecrow turned to the bodies of his flunkies. "Besides making a meal out of my henchmen?"
"Indeed, we have strayed a bit from the point." Nicholae walked back a few paces. "Mr. Crane--- you don't mind if I call you that? To call a man of your stature Scarecrow seems demeaning to both of us."
As always Scarecrow was a little unsettled to be called by his real name, but he decided to let it go. Considering what he had seen tonight, the fact that a stranger knew his identity seemed low on the list of problems. "If we're going to be using real names, Nicholae--- you don't mind if I call you that, sir?" Nicholae nodded. "Would you mind if we were to move to some place a little less conspicuous?"
"Quite all right."
Scarecrow pulled out his cell and began to dial his snipers. Before he pushed the last number, however, he glanced at Nicholae. " Your colleagues, they haven't killed the two sharpshooters I brought?"
Nicholae looked him up and down. "Why? Would you care if they lived or died?"
"I won't feel a great emotional void if their lives were ended," admitted Scarecrow, "but it will be a financial inconvenience if they were. Good help is so hard to find."
"Indeed." said Nicholae empathetically. "Don't worry. My orders were not to kill them unless I said otherwise."
Scarecrow pondered this information as he dialed the last number. "So you knew I brought snipers." he said curiously.
"Al Capone believed in having all his exits covered. I've found it's good to have every bet covered."
Scarecrow perfunctorily talked with his men then hung up. Something that Nicholae said had just registered. " You mentioned Capone a minute ago and your colleagues used to ride with the Daltons?"
"And your point is?"
"I'm a little curious as to why someone who is dead knows so much about organized crime."
Nicholae gave another big grin. "Come now, you and I both know that it's not really that organized."
Scarecrow knew that he could be risking his life but he knew bluffing this thing was more dangerous. "Enough with the cheap jokes. This is a serious question and I deserve a legitimate answer."
Nicholae turned serious. "Quite right. Mr. Crane, I have been around for a very long time."
"Forgive my asking but how long? Are we talking centuries?" Scarecrow wanted to get a clear picture of the creature he was talking with.
Nicholae was still for a few seconds before he put his hand in his suit pocket. He pulled out one of the most dazzling pieces of jewelry that Scarecrow had ever seen--- a golden bracelet with rubies and emeralds blazoned into the design. "This was given to me by Catherine De' Medici for services rendered." He looked at him for a few seconds. "Is your curiosity satisfied, Mr. Crane?"
Scarecrow's body language gave nothing away but inwardly he was more than a little amazed. The magnitude of what Nicholae was saying---
He managed to shrug it off. Nicholae wanted him for some services and it would probably be best if he paid attention. "Continue, Nicholae." he said calmly.
"As I way saying, I've been around for awhile. I've had a lot of time and opportunity to observe the world around me and my colleagues in general. You know what overwhelming common thread I have observed?"
Scarecrow thought for a minute. "There are too many possibilities. You'll have to be more specific."
"I have learned that, dead or alive, the most ruthless and cruel command the greatest power," He began to walk. "I have also found over the centuries that most of the brutal and cold-blooded people have migrated to one place." He turned to Scarecrow. "Can you guess where that is?"
"Since you're here, I'd say you would have to be talking about the criminal part." Nicholae nodded. "Forgive my bluntness but neither of these statements are what you would call earth-shattering."
"No, they're not." admitted Nicholae. "But the fact is many of my--- people--- go about their entire existence on this planet never being able to put two and two together and make the obvious connection."
Scarecrow considered for a moment what Nicholae was saying. "Let me see if I follow you. You're saying that vampires, being endowed as cruel and brutal by nature, should be working in criminal enterprises because they have the right mindset for them."
Nicholae actually turned His body and smiled. It was not a particularly pretty sight but Scarecrow had seen far worse. "Well done, Mr. Crane; you've found my point precisely." He turned serious again. "Most--- nearly all, in fact--- of my people spend their existence thinking no further ahead than their next meal. The few who do have more than that kind of attitude think only of creating a world of chaos and destruction which, even when successful, are fleeting and always lead to their demise. In all my centuries, Mr. Crane, I have never met a vampire with vision and only a handful of people with the capability to even grasp the concept."
"Which is?"
Nicholae stopped walking and gestured towards the cityscape of Gotham. "Look at this city, Mr. Crane; millions of people to exploit, to manipulate, to feed off. If a man could control Gotham, a city with hundreds of millions of dollars invested in criminal enterprises, with the largest number of criminals and strategists, with enough power to make Solomon blush---" His hands fell to his sides, "there's no telling how far he could go."
Scarecrow felt simultaneously impressed and disappointed. "This is a noble aspiration, Nicholae, and one that I admire in audacity."
"But?"
"People have been trying to control Gotham City for decades. That's part of the reason that the murder rate is so high. There are too many players involved, too many fiends."
"What if," said Nicholae, "those players began killing each other off? What if enough destruction was sewn within each organization that, when harvested, would cause them to simply implode?"
Suddenly Scarecrow began to see what Nicholae was really driving at. "And the survivors of each group?"
"Would be swallowed by my organization." Now a very cruel smile appeared on Nicholae's face. "It doesn't matter how dangerous the felon or cunning the criminal is. Once they've been turned, they become part of your army."
"But where do I fit in?" asked Scarecrow. "Am I just to be another of your puppets?"
"No, no, no!" Nicholae spoke emphatically. "You are to be a key figure in this great work. You see, my colleagues and myself can handle the lesser criminals, even some of the higher-ups if it comes to that. But there is-" he said searchingly, "what you would call an x-factor in these monstrosities like Two- Face and the Penguin," Nicholae made a gesture of disgust, "And especially that clown freak."
"What makes them more dangerous than men like Thorne or Falcone?"
"Isn't it obvious?" said Nicholae. "They are criminally insane. While an insane vampire can be very dangerous, these people maintain a level of psychosis so high that it could be fatal to my plans."
"You know," said Scarecrow almost casually, "there are those who consider me mad."
Nicholae put his hand on Scarecrow's shoulder. "I am not one of those people." He said. "Which brings us, as it were, to the heart of the matter. I have called you here to make you an offer."
"Which is?"
"You are a man of science. Someone who knows the science of fear as well as any man could." Nicholae turned to him. " I need someone who has the ability and the skill to neutralize such as the Joker and Two-Face. I am prepared to offer you anything you would require--- money, manpower, facilities--- to carry this out."
The Scarecrow considered this. "And what remuneration would I receive for my services?" He spoke calmly as if he was discussing the weather.
"If you succeed, you will sit at my right hand when I take control of all of Gotham City criminal enterprises."
"You seem awfully sure that you'll succeed."
"My associates and I have been laying the groundwork within the underworld for the past four months. If everything continues according to schedule, in two months we will control the rest."
"What about the police?"
Nicholae laughed disdainfully. "While the cops here are a tad smarter than the usual bunch, we've been running rings around them so far. When the time comes, we'll be able to handle them without a problem."
"You do realize that you've laid all this out and you haven't mentioned the biggest obstacle to your success." Scarecrow said calmly.
"You mean the erstwhile man in the bat suit?"
"He's more formidable then you give him credit for being. You honestly think that he's not going to make trouble?"
"That's actually my last selling point."
Suddenly the magnitude of what Nicholae was telling him clicked. Scarecrow decided that he was going to sign on but he decided to make him say it. "This is part of your plan."
"It's the center of my plan." Even though Nicholae's face was normal his teeth had become fanglike once again. "We are going to unmask, break, and eliminate Batman."