Chapter Three
Black Canary cut the power to the bike, headlight included, and coasted until she was across the street from the house. The neighborhood was small, but the lots themselves were large enough to give plenty of privacy and quiet to the people who lived there. Neighbors were few and far between. The whole place smelled of money.
The only light came from a single streetlight. She could see the busted door easily enough, but the house was dark. Almost too dark. The power's been cut, she thought.
"Oracle," Canary said, removing her helmet and switching the feed back to her throat mike. "I'm here."
"Do you see anything?"
"Not really. It's too dark. I'm going to have to use the infrareds." From another pouch on her leg she pulled a set of small lenses held together by a small band. When she put them on, the world was awash in red, the scenery glowing bright. "Something destroyed the front door. Something big from the looks of it. Doesn't look like an explosion. No scorch marks anywhere."
"Any sign of Bats?"
"Not yet, but – wait a minute. Someone's in there."
Canary ran into the living room and knelt by the body. It was clear the woman was dead, but she started to feel for a pulse anyway.
"Don't bother," a voice said from the darkness. "She's been dead for a couple of hours now."
Even with the infrareds on, he blended with the shadows. She could see bits of his costume, the end of his cape here, a gloved finger there and of course his mouth and chin where they protruded from his cowl, but he must have been wearing the old suit, the one without the yellow oval because she couldn't even see the big black bat winging across his chest . He moved forward so she could see the outline of his eyes.
"Who is she?" Canary asked.
"Her name's Kanly," he said. When he spoke, his voice carried no doubt, no insecurity. "Everything you need to know about her is in here."
He handed her a thin manila envelope. She took it and looked at the few scattered pages inside. "Not much in here."
"You don't need much," he said. "She's not your priority. She had a daughter, 16, named Helena. The girl's missing. There's a picture of her in the envelope. She needs to be found quickly. Found and protected. I've already begun the necessary arrangements."
"What arrangements?"
"This," he said, pointing at the body on the floor and completely ignoring her question, "was part of a bigger, well planned assault. Earlier tonight, there was a massive breakout attempt at Arkham Asylum. I helped the Gotham police contain most of the problem. While the breakout was occurring, someone came here and killed her and attempted to kill her daughter, but the daughter escaped. I need you to find her."
"You said that already." She motioned to the body. "What does she have to do with Arkham? Was killing her supposed to be a distraction of some kind?"
"Arkham was the distraction. The Joker has disappeared."
Canary heard Oracle's sharp intake of breath over her earring speakers at the sound of the Joker's name.
"I thought the Joker was still in a coma?"
"As did I. Take that information to Oracle and find Helena."
Canary shivered involuntarily at the sound of his orders. 'Why don't you take them to her? I'm not your damned errand boy. You still haven't explained what this has to do with anything?"
"I'm going after the Joker," he said by way of explanation. "I don't believe he's in Gotham anymore. I'll find him and deal with him. You find the girl. Tell Barbara that Gotham is hers until I return."
He walked past her and out the front door. She glance again at the body then ran after him, determined to get some answers, but he was gone.
"I hate it when he does that," she said.