14

Bruce sat in his Batcave leaning forward over some papers. He looked back and forth between the computer screen next to him and the papers he was working on.

Then the news program that was on one of the few small TV screens near him caught his attention. He'd been ignoring most of what was being said on the news program, but now a reporter was talking about a murder. Bruce's face grew grim as he gazed at the screen. It was another murder done with a wire.

This one was found along the side of a lonely road, specifically the road leading to Arkham Asylum. This victim was a woman and was another one of the missing Arkham employees. She was discovered by an Arkham nurse who was driving home in the early morning hours. The victim was strapped to a lamppost with piano wire, her arms raised up above her head. The wire had dug into her wrists and her legs. She had bled to death.

Gordon shuddered for about the seventh time this morning as he stood off to the side of the scene. He knew he was supposed to be a weathered cop, tough and maybe even calloused. But that was all rubbish. Nobody could get used to this. Nobody in their right mind could get used to the grotesque, depraved things like this that evil people did.

This time, the killer did leave something behind: hair. It appeared the victim had managed to pull out a handful of her killer's hair. Some of it still stuck to the victim's hand, and some was on the ground, mercifully not swept away entirely by the breeze. Not that this evidence would likely do them much good right now unless the DNA from the hair matched someone they already had on file. It would be a little while before Gordon received word on that.

When Batman had asked Gordon to give him a portion of the hair sample before it went for forensic analysis, Gordon had hesitated. When Batman informed Gordon that he had his own criminal database to run it through and check for matches, a bewildered Gordon had allowed Batman to take some of the hairs.

Now Gordon looked up at the cloudy sky, hearing some faint rumblings of thunder. He gazed at the sky for a couple of minutes, looking down occasionally to the several reporters being held at bay by yellow crime scene tape.

"We're almost done here," one of his men said from close by, causing Gordon to jump a little. He hadn't noticed the officer's approach.

Gordon looked back at his people working the scene. There were fewer of them now, and they were wrapping things up.

"Shall we return to the station?" the officer asked. Gordon had driven to the scene with this officer, the second time today he'd come to the scene of the crime.

Since Gordon hadn't been doing anything here for a while now, he answered, "Yes. Let's go."

It was a long meeting, and it was rather frustrating to Bruce that the meeting was on the afternoon of the same day a new murder had taken place. But, then again, it was probably good for him to have something else to do while his computer system in the Batcave was searching for matches to the hair. Even his powerful system took a while for such a thing.

He focused on the meeting and the matter at hand. When it finally ended and he walked out, he was smiling. He needed to tell Heather the news.

Bruce took an elevator to another floor and walked to the office where he knew Heather would be working. He knocked and greeted Mr. Gucci, the man at the desk inside. Heather was nowhere to be seen.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Wayne?" Mr. Gucci asked as he rose to his feet.

"Actually, I was looking for Heather. I have some news for her."

"I just sent her down the hall to fax something. She should be back any—"

"Hello, Mr. Wayne," Heather said from behind Bruce. She referred to him properly as Mr. Wayne whenever at work.

Bruce turned to the doorway and smiled. "Hi, Heather."

"How are you today?" she asked him.

"I'm fine. I'd like to see you in my office."

"Certainly." Heather walked over to set some papers down on the desk.

"Nothing bad, I hope," her boss, Mr. Gucci, said from behind his desk.

"Don't worry," Bruce said. "It's not." He and Heather headed for the door.

"Excuse us, Mr. Gucci," Bruce said before leaving.

"Of course," Mr. Gucci responded.

Bruce and Heather took the elevator and made their way to Bruce's office.

Bruce shut the door and then walked over to his desk, not sitting behind it but leaning against the front of it.

Heather looked at him expectantly. Bruce looked back at her with a serious expression, and after a moment he spoke.

"We had the meeting today."

Heather knew immediately what meeting he was talking about. The company board members had discussed her idea.

Heather swallowed hard. "And? What happened?" she asked.

"Your idea has been approved." He smiled.

For several seconds, Heather was speechless. Then she rushed forward and embraced Bruce in a hug. After a moment, still hugging, she said, "It feels like I'm dreaming!" Then she let go and, looking at him, asked, "Is this really happening?"

"Yes. Your dream is really going to happen."

Heather smiled, tears in her eyes. Then she slapped Bruce lightly on the shoulder. "You had me expecting the worst, acting so serious like that!" she scolded. But she was still smiling.

Bruce laughed.

"So how do we go about this?" Heather asked.

"We'll start on the details at a meeting next Wednesday. And you're going to be at that meeting," Bruce said. Heather smiled.

"Another thing. You'd better let Mr. Gucci know he'll need to find a new secretary soon, assuming you'll want to work full time in the branch of Wayne Enterprises that you've founded."

"Oh, I... I will!" Heather's hands went to her cheeks. "I just can't believe this!"

"But for now, you'd better get back to work," Bruce said with a smile.

Alfred met Bruce inside the front door as soon as he got home. He had news for Bruce, but first he was hoping for some good news from him.

"Hello, Master Bruce. How did the meeting go?"

"It went great, Alfred. Heather's idea has been approved, and a new branch of the company will be formed."

Alfred's hands joined together in a clap. "Oh, wonderful! I'm happy not only for Heather but also that the company will be doing this!"

"I feel that way, too."

"I can't think of another big company in the world that would do such a thing. Wayne Enterprises is and always has been special, and I feel it always will be. Your parents would be proud, Master Bruce."

Bruce placed a hand on Alfred's shoulder and allowed his expression to thank Alfred for his words. Then he asked, "Have you been keeping an eye on the database search?"

"Yes, sir. I have, and it's finished. I'm afraid we came up with no results. The hair matches no one in your criminal database."

Bruce looked down in disappointment.

Then he raised his eyes again to his friend and helper and said, "Thank you, Alfred," before he walked away.

Batman stood on top of a building, pausing a moment to look across the street at the large Gotham City Police Department building.

It was barely dusk with quite a bit of daylight still out—a bit earlier than Batman tended to venture out most of the time, but Batman of course worked during the day when it was important, and right now he was coming to see Commissioner Gordon.

Batman grappled to the top of the GCPD building and then dropped the minor distance down to Gordon's balcony. Peering in, it didn't look like Gordon was in his office, but the light was on.

Batman waited patiently for several minutes until he saw Gordon enter his office, but he was with two other people. Batman stepped back against the railing of the balcony, out of the reach of the office light.

The three men walked over near Gordon's desk and stood there talking. After a few minutes, Gordon sat down but they all continued talking. It was another few minutes before the two other men left Gordon's office. Gordon remained.

Batman stepped to the balcony door. Gordon saw him through the glass before Batman had to knock. Gordon came to him and slid the door open.

Batman spoke first.

"My database search came up empty. No matches for the hair."

Gordon released a disappointed sigh. "Our search is still running. We can only pray we'll have a match."

"I hope you do, Commissioner, but it's not likely you will if I didn't."

Gordon frowned at him. "Just how big of a database do you have? And your system?"

Batman didn't answer.

"Anyway, I've still got to hope," Gordon said.

There was no need for either man to ask what else was being done or could be done. There was nothing else at this point. Gordon's men and Batman had scoured the crime scene. The hairs were the only thing they had to go on. Further investigation had been undertaken in the form of inquiries to individuals who lived or worked nearby, but hope was pretty dim.

"Still have that gut feeling about Joker?" Batman asked. Of course, they hadn't expected the hair samples from the second crime scene to match Joker, since Joker was in custody, but that didn't mean he couldn't be behind it all. Batman still felt doubtful.

Gordon didn't say anything, but the resigned look on his face seemed to say no.

Both men turned away to leave at the same time.

Batman spent the night out patrolling. It was a very chilly, windy night, and not many people chose to linger out in it. He stopped two muggings and saw nothing else of interest all night long.

Before heading home, he returned to the road leading to Arkham Asylum. He gazed quietly for several minutes at the lamppost where the woman had been murdered. Not long before sunrise, he headed home.