BATMAN: CRIME, CRIME EVERYWHERE
By Bruce Wayne
DISCLAIMER: Most of the characters portrayed in this story are copyright by DC Comics, an AOL/Time/Warner company. They are used without permission for entertainment without profit by the author.
CHAPTER 11 - DEATH IN THE DARK
Soon after the Penguin's departure from Curly Regal's apartment, a big limousine left the door of the exclusive Templeton Club, which was located in the Darling Building, the conservative gathering place of Gotham City's millionaires.
The limousine had turned the corner, when a member of the staff dashed out from the club and spoke to the doorman. Returning, the employee stopped at a telephone in the foyer.
"I'm very sorry," he said, "but Mr Bruce Wayne has just left. If you will leave your name, sir --"
The only answer was an abrupt click of a telephone receiver. The club employee made a notation of the unknown call and its time and placed the slip in Bruce Wayne's box.
Five minutes later, the same employee answered another call. This one was for Police Commissioner James Gordon, who was a member of the Templeton Club and spent most of his spare time there.
The employee said that Gordon was in the grillroom. But before he could start to summon the commissioner, the speaker gave a message.
This call, like the other, had an abrupt finish. The employee hurried down to the grillroom, found Gordon concluding a late dinner. The commissioner was a brusque man, who became much annoyed when interrupted while eating. But the message was important.
"I don't know who it was, sir," said the employee, "but he said it was urgent. He said that there was danger of a robbery at the home of a man that Mr Wayne was going to visit. The caller said the home is occupied by a man named Edward Nigma."
"Edward Nigma!" exclaimed Gordon, bounding up from the table. "Why, that's the Riddler! The caller said they he's the man that Bruce Wayne was going to see this evening?! But Wayne probably knows nothing of the danger. I wonder --" Pausing, Gordon suddenly snapped, "Was it Wayne who called?"
The employee didn't think so. There had been a similar call for Bruce Wayne, earlier, but with no message. He wasn't sure that the voices were the same.
Perplexed, he admitted that the second caller could have been Bruce Wayne. By then, Gordon had heard enough.
"Either a friend of Bruce's," decided the commissioner, "or an associate at Nigma's. Obviously, the fellow tried to talk to Bruce first, then decided to call me. I'll take care of the matter, right away."
Gordon took care of the matter by going upstairs and putting in a call to headquarters. He spoke to his ace detective, Harvey Bullock, and ordered him to Nigma's, with a tactical squad. Bullock was to wait near the mansion until the commissioner arrived in his official car.
There was a chance that the thing was a hoax. In that case, the laugh would be on Gordon, if he sent a flock of police trooping into a house supposedly occupied by the Riddler.
***
Meanwhile, Bruce Wayne's limousine was rolling on its way to Nigma's. Alfred was driving at moderate speed. In the rear seat, Bruce Wayne was glancing idly from the window.
This evening's schedule seemed to be interesting, from Bruce's point of view. He had been contacted by a man named Edward Nigma -- the real name of the Riddler. He knew that Nigma wanted to interest Bruce Wayne in investing in a chain of jewelry stores that would retail expensive diamonds. But Nigma had not mentioned his preliminary purchase of a quarter million dollars' worth of uncut stones from Jon Daley. Bruce wanted to see what the Riddler's scheme was.
In fact, for the very reasons that the Penguin had given Curly Regal, Bruce supposed that the Riddler would be unable to purchase diamonds until he had closed a deal with Clendon's association.
Bruce Wayne was quite familiar with the operations of the South African diamond syndicate, and knew the tight grip that it held upon the entire trade, from brokers to cutters.
Like his manner, Bruce's face was calm. It was a sharp countenance, masklike, in the passing lights of the avenue. Those lights faded as the big car turned onto the Riddler's street. The very gloom of that forgotten thoroughfare impressed Bruce. He had a peculiar interest in all places of darkness.
Bruce's sharp eyes saw lurkers. They were in doorways across from the Riddler's. There were cars parked in the gloom, with figures crouched behind the wheels. Cars, not of the sort that a diamond dealer's visitors would bring. By the time that Bruce had taken in the scene, the limousine came to a halt in front of the Riddler's rented home.
There was a briefcase in the limousine. Bruce decided to take it with him. It contained papers relative to the chain-store transaction, though Bruce did not actually need the briefcase, it was natural enough for him to bring it along. He had another purpose, however, in carrying the briefcase.
Stepping from the car, Bruce quietly told Alfred to return to the Templeton Club and wait there until called. Then, with a careless saunter, Bruce strolled up the brownstone steps, reaching the top just as the limousine pulled away.
To lurkers across the street, Bruce Wayne was simply an expected visitor at Nigma's. Nevertheless, figures shifted in the gloom, and Bruce noticed them.
He suspected that they were uneasy, that part of their duty was to take care of troublesome strangers. A false move at that time could have proven quite disastrous for Bruce. But he had a way of doing the right thing.
The watchers saw Bruce Wayne's tall form turn toward the door. His hand lifted and pushed at the doorbell button. Turning slightly, Bruce stood as if waiting for someone to answer.
The move was a good one. If intruders were in the house, the ringing of the doorbell would give them warning that someone else had arrived. Across the street, shifting men eased back to cover, waiting to see what happened next.
They had been deceived by Bruce Wayne's move. Actually, he hadn't pushed the doorbell button at all. Holding the briefcase in one hand, he slid his other hand behind him to try the doorknob. He wanted to find out how strong the lock was.
Unless it proved formidable, the tall visitor intended to work on the lock, while faking another ring of the bell. Locks frequently yielded under the persuasive methods of the leisurely Mr Wayne.
More pleased than surprised, Bruce found that the knob turned. The door was not locked. To enter abruptly would have been a bad mistake.
Resting the briefcase on the top step, Bruce freed his hand to fake another push at the bell. At the same time, his hidden hand turned the knob and gave the door an inward swing.
What followed was a bit of perfect acting. Turning, as if surprised, Bruce Wayne gathered up the briefcase with his left hand and thrust his right in through the door, as though returning a welcome.
As he stepped into the vestibule, his foot deftly hooked the door and swung it shut. Thanks to the semidarkness, the lurkers across the way were completely deceived.
Of that huddled band, every man was ready to swear that some person -- probably Edward Nigma -- had opened the door to admit Bruce Wayne, and had closed it after the visitor entered.
In the vestibule, Bruce quickly inverted the briefcase and pulled a hidden zipper that ran along the bottom. The briefcase spread, showing a V-shaped pocket between its two sections.
From that compact space, Bruce produced a cowl, a black cape, and a pair of gauntlets. Closing the briefcase, he placed it behind an umbrella stand in the vestibule.
The speed with which Bruce Wayne took off his civilian clothes and put on those additional garments showed that they were a habitual garb. The lurkers who had let him pass as a harmless visitor would have regretted their oversight, had they witnessed the transformation in the vestibule.
From the top of his cowl to the hem of his black cape, Bruce Wayne looked the part of the personage that he had become: Batman.
During his quick change, Batman peered through the inner door of the vestibule. Past the glass panel, he saw the lower hall, gloomy and deserted.
Beyond was the stairway, dark up to a little landing where the steps turned to reach the second floor. Batman was turning the handle of the inner door, when a slight stir made him pause.
There was blackness on the stairway. It was creeping into the light at the landing. As Batman watched, he observed a singular occurrence. One with which he was quite familiar, though he had never witnessed.
A cloaked shape was moving in the darkness in a most uncanny fashion.
It wore a cowl above the cape. Gloved hands showed in the light.
It actually seemed as though Batman had arrived here ahead of himself!
For the moment the sight amused the Caped Crusader more than it amazed him.
The man above had gone from sight, and the reason for his false garb was as plain as if he had shouted it. The intruder was here for crime, and intended to give it a double edge, by pinning his coming misdeeds upon Batman.
To the real Batman, it was no longer a question of looking in on the Riddler and the others, and warning them of danger. It was a case of dealing with an actual criminal, who would go the limit, under circumstances where he felt himself secure. To a degree, the false Batman was secure. He held an edge upon the being that he impersonated.
This was a change in a plan. Anticipating no trouble, he had intended to play Bruce Wayne's part to the full. A witness to the beginning of an expected crime by the Riddler. Now, he was forced to deal with an impostor, who, externally, at least, was more The Batman than himself.
Dipping his hand to his utility belt, Batman produced what looked to be a small round ball. Batman kept the small ball in his hand.
Batman opened the vestibule door with his other hand and glided forward upon the trail of the caped masquerader who had gone before!
***
Nigma's pebbles lay in a mound at a corner of the desk, a heaping handful worth a quarter of a million dollars. The uncut diamonds had been pushed aside, so that Nigma and Clendon could litter the desk with papers pertaining to their future business.
At present, Nigma's business concerned a bottle of whiskey. He was filling glasses for Clendon and Daley, and the conference was reaching a pivotal stage. Daley was celebrating the successful sale that had paved the way to future business and would square him with the diamond syndicate, should they learn how he had pushed matters. Clendon, in his turn, was more than satisfied.
Though he had promised to promote diamonds to the point of extravagance, Clendon was merely going ahead with plans upon which his association had agreed. Talk of doing things in a big way impressed Nigma, and urged him further with his plans for a nationwide chain of stores.
The three were becoming happier and happier, until Nigma paused suddenly, bottle in hand. Tilting his head, the green-clothed man showed a strained expression, along with a listening attitude. Then he asked, abruptly: "Did you hear it?"
Daley glanced about, as though expecting raps from the ceiling. Clendon gave an alarmed glance toward the window. Nigma placed the bottle on the desk and opened a drawer, to reach for a revolver. He was turning toward Clendon, when he said: "It sounded like someone in the hall --"
Nigma broke off. Clendon was already facing the doorway, his expression frozen. Wheeling, Nigma was about to grip the gun and whip it into sight, when he, too, froze. The revolver slipped from his fumbling fingers, landed in the drawer with a thud.
Like Clendon, the Riddler saw an ominous figure in black. An invader who, by his very costume, could throw a chill into fast-pumping hearts. Daley, swerving about, let his glass slip from his shaky hands and crash upon the floor.
Ape Bundy was learning things about portraying Batman. He was finding out one secret of the black-cloaked fighter's prowess. Ape was witnessing the effect of silence upon three startled men, when that silence was emphasized by a cowl, a black cape, and a bat emblem on his chest.
From the way the trio cowered, Ape understood his own fear of Batman.
Pleased with his new power, Ape took a few steps into the room. No need to use the whisper yet. He'd rely on it if anyone squawked when he fisted the uncut diamonds.
One man tightened as Ape approached. The man was Edward "the Riddler" Nigma, owner of the diamonds. Startled at first, Nigma was again thinking of himself in a jail cell. He was to be the loser. Therefore he was the man most likely to turn bold.
Besides, he had a gun in the drawer beside his knee, a weapon that Ape Bundy hadn't seen.
Nevertheless, the crook centered on the Riddler. For a long moment, hidden eyes met steely ones of blue. Then came the thing that ended the Riddler's momentary defiance. It was a laugh, high and giggly, that issued from the lips of Nigma. The Riddler sagged shakily back from the desk.
Clendon and Daley were surprised by the laugh from Nigma's lips. It was a sinister, mocking laugh in its high tone. It gave new realism to the masquerade that was occurring in the room. The laugh seemed to shiver its echoes from every cranny of the room.
During slow-ticked seconds, it still seemed that the Riddler had laughed, because Ape had gone rigid in his garb of black. Then, with a sudden gesture, Ape dispelled the illusion entirely.
Gaining new nerve because of his black attire, the masquerader took a quick step forward, then swung about in a rapid, but clumsy, wheel.
With the move, Ape let a smile come across his lips. Three gaping men saw the apish features under the cowl. The Riddler knew instinctively that the face didn't belong to his old nemesis.
An instant later, Nigma had proof that he was right, for Ape, in his turnabout, gave them a full view of another shape beyond.
The men in the room saw two Batmen, and there was no mistaking the real one. Even though Ape was the right physical size, the clumsy gorilla no longer looked the part that he was trying to pretend. Ape had gone hoodlum, giving his game away.
Ape was going to do what other crooks had tried. He intended to defeat Batman, and he had the tools to do it. Coming about with his gun, he needed only an instant's notice to locate his adversary and cut loose. But Ape didn't get the instant he required.
Batman was springing forward as Ape swung. The Caped Crusader immediately slammed down the small ball he held in his hand. There suddenly was a blast that rivaled any that a gun could produce. There was a flash of flame that produced a puff of pungent smoke, along with the echoes of the sharp report.
Ape reeled backward, momentarily dazzled by the brilliance. Batman had tossed down a flash-bang pellet.
Ape didn't like it. Nor did he relish the thing that followed.
Batman's swift hands landed like clamps on Ape's wrists, shoving the crook's arms high and wide. Ape felt his gun slipping under the twisty pressure that numbed his hands. He tugged the trigger, as a last resort.
The .45 went flying. The gun seemed to shoot itself right out of Ape's clutch, which, to a degree, it did. Coupled with Batman's twist, the recoil of the big automatic provided a kick that Ape could not stop. Then the brawny gorilla was in Batman's complete clutch.
Frantically, Ape tried to claw away hands that had shifted from his wrists to his throat. Two Batmen went grappling toward the door, kicking the gun that had bounced in that direction. Of the pair, Ape was putting up the greater fuss, because he was trying to get free.
The startled witnesses did not grasp the situation. That was why they came to aid Batman.
First, Daley, who was nearest. His attack was bare-handed, and he nearly mixed his Batmen as he thrust himself into the melee. Next, Clendon, bringing the whiskey bottle for a bludgeon. He picked Ape's head correctly, but missed it with his clumsy swings.
Finally, the Riddler came with his revolver. He was the coolest of the three, and could have inserted a telling shot, if everything had not gone wrong when he arrived.
Ape had profited by the interference. Unable to get Batman's hands loose from his throat, Ape shoved one big paw sideward and grabbed Daley by the neck. With the other fist, he snatched the whiskey bottle from Clendon and swung it at Batman's head.
It took a contortionist's twist on Batman's part to escape that desperate stroke. The bottle left Ape's hand as it skimmed Batman's head, and found Clendon's fat stomach, doubling the jeweler in a heap.
Then Ape was free from Batman's clutch. In staggery fashion, the masquerader reached for the gun and snatched it from the floor. Batman dived for cover.
The Riddler had stumbled into Clendon, was trying again to tell which Batman was which, when the two lunged for the doorway.
Ape was trying to get away. Batman was hoping to block him. Trapped between them, Daley added to the mix-up. The three went through the doorway in a mass; both the cloaked fighters were slugging with their fists, parrying like fencers across Daley's shoulders.
The grapple carried to the stairs. By then, Daley had dropped out of it. Bowling over the edge, Batman and Ape Bundy did not stop when they reached the landing. A double blur of whirling black, they went bounding down to the floor below. The Riddler was scarcely out of the study when he saw their take-off from the landing.
Batman wanted the human gorilla as a living trophy, to learn more about Ape's masquerade. The tumble, instead of ruining Batman's purpose, really bettered it. Batman saw to it that Ape took the heavy bumps as they went downward.
When they hit the lower floor, Ape struck first. Batman, releasing him, did a roll beyond, then came to hands and knees, expecting to see Ape lying limp. Instead, Ape was on his feet, reeling toward the darkened living room on the other side of the hall.
The cowl was jammed hard down over Ape's eyes, proof that his head had taken most of the thumping on the steps. Considering the stoutness of Ape's skull, it wasn't surprising that the Big Baboon had found his feet.
Ape still had his gun, but didn't seem to know how to use it. He nearly toppled when he staggered into the living room. Gathering a hold on one of the doorway curtains, he managed to pull himself about.
By then, Batman was springing back to the corner of the steps. He was about to call for the crook's surrender, when there was a crash from the vestibule. Lurkers outside had heard the gunfire and were coming through. As they shoved the inner door ahead of them, Batman saw a number of revolvers.
The Dark Knight sprang forward to meet the crooks. As he came, he jabbed his finger toward the curtains where Ape's gun was wavering into sight.
Batman mouthed an incoherent snarl that would have suited Ape. It sounded like a plea for assistance.
Six in number, the crooks turned and opened full blast at the curtains. From the way the Masked Manhunter had pointed, the crooks had an idea that they were dealing with another mob, and they acted accordingly.
Amid that gunfire, Batman wheeled toward the stairs, confident that he would have a new vantage point by the time the mobsters learned of their mistake. That was why the Caped Crusader happened to be looking up the stairway, to see the menace that confronted him.
The Riddler was on the landing, aiming point-blank with his gun, and Batman was his target. The Dark Knight's clever ruse had proved a boomerang.
Very logically, the Riddler was aiming at the caped fighter who had given the high sign to the crooks. The climax, if the Riddler provided it, would be death to the real Caped Crusader, not the false. The Prince of Puzzlers was about to shoot the old nemesis who had saved his diamonds from the clutches of Ape Bundy!
Batman wasn't thinking about the Riddler's diamonds at that moment. His one idea was self-preservation, and he took heroic measures toward it. Five feet short of the stairway, the Masked Manhunter made a headlong pitch for the bottom step, landing there as the Riddler's first shots whined above his head.
Striking shoulder first, Batman took a sideward roll. The man dressed in green moved forward from the landing and trained his gun straight down the steps themselves, aiming for a figure that he thought he had already clipped. The Riddler pumped two more bullets. Then paused, astonishment on his face.
There was no one at the bottom of the stairs! Like a wraith of living smoke, Batman had vanished, following his dive, as though the solid floor had swallowed him!
To be continued ...
By Bruce Wayne
DISCLAIMER: Most of the characters portrayed in this story are copyright by DC Comics, an AOL/Time/Warner company. They are used without permission for entertainment without profit by the author.
CHAPTER 11 - DEATH IN THE DARK
Soon after the Penguin's departure from Curly Regal's apartment, a big limousine left the door of the exclusive Templeton Club, which was located in the Darling Building, the conservative gathering place of Gotham City's millionaires.
The limousine had turned the corner, when a member of the staff dashed out from the club and spoke to the doorman. Returning, the employee stopped at a telephone in the foyer.
"I'm very sorry," he said, "but Mr Bruce Wayne has just left. If you will leave your name, sir --"
The only answer was an abrupt click of a telephone receiver. The club employee made a notation of the unknown call and its time and placed the slip in Bruce Wayne's box.
Five minutes later, the same employee answered another call. This one was for Police Commissioner James Gordon, who was a member of the Templeton Club and spent most of his spare time there.
The employee said that Gordon was in the grillroom. But before he could start to summon the commissioner, the speaker gave a message.
This call, like the other, had an abrupt finish. The employee hurried down to the grillroom, found Gordon concluding a late dinner. The commissioner was a brusque man, who became much annoyed when interrupted while eating. But the message was important.
"I don't know who it was, sir," said the employee, "but he said it was urgent. He said that there was danger of a robbery at the home of a man that Mr Wayne was going to visit. The caller said the home is occupied by a man named Edward Nigma."
"Edward Nigma!" exclaimed Gordon, bounding up from the table. "Why, that's the Riddler! The caller said they he's the man that Bruce Wayne was going to see this evening?! But Wayne probably knows nothing of the danger. I wonder --" Pausing, Gordon suddenly snapped, "Was it Wayne who called?"
The employee didn't think so. There had been a similar call for Bruce Wayne, earlier, but with no message. He wasn't sure that the voices were the same.
Perplexed, he admitted that the second caller could have been Bruce Wayne. By then, Gordon had heard enough.
"Either a friend of Bruce's," decided the commissioner, "or an associate at Nigma's. Obviously, the fellow tried to talk to Bruce first, then decided to call me. I'll take care of the matter, right away."
Gordon took care of the matter by going upstairs and putting in a call to headquarters. He spoke to his ace detective, Harvey Bullock, and ordered him to Nigma's, with a tactical squad. Bullock was to wait near the mansion until the commissioner arrived in his official car.
There was a chance that the thing was a hoax. In that case, the laugh would be on Gordon, if he sent a flock of police trooping into a house supposedly occupied by the Riddler.
***
Meanwhile, Bruce Wayne's limousine was rolling on its way to Nigma's. Alfred was driving at moderate speed. In the rear seat, Bruce Wayne was glancing idly from the window.
This evening's schedule seemed to be interesting, from Bruce's point of view. He had been contacted by a man named Edward Nigma -- the real name of the Riddler. He knew that Nigma wanted to interest Bruce Wayne in investing in a chain of jewelry stores that would retail expensive diamonds. But Nigma had not mentioned his preliminary purchase of a quarter million dollars' worth of uncut stones from Jon Daley. Bruce wanted to see what the Riddler's scheme was.
In fact, for the very reasons that the Penguin had given Curly Regal, Bruce supposed that the Riddler would be unable to purchase diamonds until he had closed a deal with Clendon's association.
Bruce Wayne was quite familiar with the operations of the South African diamond syndicate, and knew the tight grip that it held upon the entire trade, from brokers to cutters.
Like his manner, Bruce's face was calm. It was a sharp countenance, masklike, in the passing lights of the avenue. Those lights faded as the big car turned onto the Riddler's street. The very gloom of that forgotten thoroughfare impressed Bruce. He had a peculiar interest in all places of darkness.
Bruce's sharp eyes saw lurkers. They were in doorways across from the Riddler's. There were cars parked in the gloom, with figures crouched behind the wheels. Cars, not of the sort that a diamond dealer's visitors would bring. By the time that Bruce had taken in the scene, the limousine came to a halt in front of the Riddler's rented home.
There was a briefcase in the limousine. Bruce decided to take it with him. It contained papers relative to the chain-store transaction, though Bruce did not actually need the briefcase, it was natural enough for him to bring it along. He had another purpose, however, in carrying the briefcase.
Stepping from the car, Bruce quietly told Alfred to return to the Templeton Club and wait there until called. Then, with a careless saunter, Bruce strolled up the brownstone steps, reaching the top just as the limousine pulled away.
To lurkers across the street, Bruce Wayne was simply an expected visitor at Nigma's. Nevertheless, figures shifted in the gloom, and Bruce noticed them.
He suspected that they were uneasy, that part of their duty was to take care of troublesome strangers. A false move at that time could have proven quite disastrous for Bruce. But he had a way of doing the right thing.
The watchers saw Bruce Wayne's tall form turn toward the door. His hand lifted and pushed at the doorbell button. Turning slightly, Bruce stood as if waiting for someone to answer.
The move was a good one. If intruders were in the house, the ringing of the doorbell would give them warning that someone else had arrived. Across the street, shifting men eased back to cover, waiting to see what happened next.
They had been deceived by Bruce Wayne's move. Actually, he hadn't pushed the doorbell button at all. Holding the briefcase in one hand, he slid his other hand behind him to try the doorknob. He wanted to find out how strong the lock was.
Unless it proved formidable, the tall visitor intended to work on the lock, while faking another ring of the bell. Locks frequently yielded under the persuasive methods of the leisurely Mr Wayne.
More pleased than surprised, Bruce found that the knob turned. The door was not locked. To enter abruptly would have been a bad mistake.
Resting the briefcase on the top step, Bruce freed his hand to fake another push at the bell. At the same time, his hidden hand turned the knob and gave the door an inward swing.
What followed was a bit of perfect acting. Turning, as if surprised, Bruce Wayne gathered up the briefcase with his left hand and thrust his right in through the door, as though returning a welcome.
As he stepped into the vestibule, his foot deftly hooked the door and swung it shut. Thanks to the semidarkness, the lurkers across the way were completely deceived.
Of that huddled band, every man was ready to swear that some person -- probably Edward Nigma -- had opened the door to admit Bruce Wayne, and had closed it after the visitor entered.
In the vestibule, Bruce quickly inverted the briefcase and pulled a hidden zipper that ran along the bottom. The briefcase spread, showing a V-shaped pocket between its two sections.
From that compact space, Bruce produced a cowl, a black cape, and a pair of gauntlets. Closing the briefcase, he placed it behind an umbrella stand in the vestibule.
The speed with which Bruce Wayne took off his civilian clothes and put on those additional garments showed that they were a habitual garb. The lurkers who had let him pass as a harmless visitor would have regretted their oversight, had they witnessed the transformation in the vestibule.
From the top of his cowl to the hem of his black cape, Bruce Wayne looked the part of the personage that he had become: Batman.
During his quick change, Batman peered through the inner door of the vestibule. Past the glass panel, he saw the lower hall, gloomy and deserted.
Beyond was the stairway, dark up to a little landing where the steps turned to reach the second floor. Batman was turning the handle of the inner door, when a slight stir made him pause.
There was blackness on the stairway. It was creeping into the light at the landing. As Batman watched, he observed a singular occurrence. One with which he was quite familiar, though he had never witnessed.
A cloaked shape was moving in the darkness in a most uncanny fashion.
It wore a cowl above the cape. Gloved hands showed in the light.
It actually seemed as though Batman had arrived here ahead of himself!
For the moment the sight amused the Caped Crusader more than it amazed him.
The man above had gone from sight, and the reason for his false garb was as plain as if he had shouted it. The intruder was here for crime, and intended to give it a double edge, by pinning his coming misdeeds upon Batman.
To the real Batman, it was no longer a question of looking in on the Riddler and the others, and warning them of danger. It was a case of dealing with an actual criminal, who would go the limit, under circumstances where he felt himself secure. To a degree, the false Batman was secure. He held an edge upon the being that he impersonated.
This was a change in a plan. Anticipating no trouble, he had intended to play Bruce Wayne's part to the full. A witness to the beginning of an expected crime by the Riddler. Now, he was forced to deal with an impostor, who, externally, at least, was more The Batman than himself.
Dipping his hand to his utility belt, Batman produced what looked to be a small round ball. Batman kept the small ball in his hand.
Batman opened the vestibule door with his other hand and glided forward upon the trail of the caped masquerader who had gone before!
***
Nigma's pebbles lay in a mound at a corner of the desk, a heaping handful worth a quarter of a million dollars. The uncut diamonds had been pushed aside, so that Nigma and Clendon could litter the desk with papers pertaining to their future business.
At present, Nigma's business concerned a bottle of whiskey. He was filling glasses for Clendon and Daley, and the conference was reaching a pivotal stage. Daley was celebrating the successful sale that had paved the way to future business and would square him with the diamond syndicate, should they learn how he had pushed matters. Clendon, in his turn, was more than satisfied.
Though he had promised to promote diamonds to the point of extravagance, Clendon was merely going ahead with plans upon which his association had agreed. Talk of doing things in a big way impressed Nigma, and urged him further with his plans for a nationwide chain of stores.
The three were becoming happier and happier, until Nigma paused suddenly, bottle in hand. Tilting his head, the green-clothed man showed a strained expression, along with a listening attitude. Then he asked, abruptly: "Did you hear it?"
Daley glanced about, as though expecting raps from the ceiling. Clendon gave an alarmed glance toward the window. Nigma placed the bottle on the desk and opened a drawer, to reach for a revolver. He was turning toward Clendon, when he said: "It sounded like someone in the hall --"
Nigma broke off. Clendon was already facing the doorway, his expression frozen. Wheeling, Nigma was about to grip the gun and whip it into sight, when he, too, froze. The revolver slipped from his fumbling fingers, landed in the drawer with a thud.
Like Clendon, the Riddler saw an ominous figure in black. An invader who, by his very costume, could throw a chill into fast-pumping hearts. Daley, swerving about, let his glass slip from his shaky hands and crash upon the floor.
Ape Bundy was learning things about portraying Batman. He was finding out one secret of the black-cloaked fighter's prowess. Ape was witnessing the effect of silence upon three startled men, when that silence was emphasized by a cowl, a black cape, and a bat emblem on his chest.
From the way the trio cowered, Ape understood his own fear of Batman.
Pleased with his new power, Ape took a few steps into the room. No need to use the whisper yet. He'd rely on it if anyone squawked when he fisted the uncut diamonds.
One man tightened as Ape approached. The man was Edward "the Riddler" Nigma, owner of the diamonds. Startled at first, Nigma was again thinking of himself in a jail cell. He was to be the loser. Therefore he was the man most likely to turn bold.
Besides, he had a gun in the drawer beside his knee, a weapon that Ape Bundy hadn't seen.
Nevertheless, the crook centered on the Riddler. For a long moment, hidden eyes met steely ones of blue. Then came the thing that ended the Riddler's momentary defiance. It was a laugh, high and giggly, that issued from the lips of Nigma. The Riddler sagged shakily back from the desk.
Clendon and Daley were surprised by the laugh from Nigma's lips. It was a sinister, mocking laugh in its high tone. It gave new realism to the masquerade that was occurring in the room. The laugh seemed to shiver its echoes from every cranny of the room.
During slow-ticked seconds, it still seemed that the Riddler had laughed, because Ape had gone rigid in his garb of black. Then, with a sudden gesture, Ape dispelled the illusion entirely.
Gaining new nerve because of his black attire, the masquerader took a quick step forward, then swung about in a rapid, but clumsy, wheel.
With the move, Ape let a smile come across his lips. Three gaping men saw the apish features under the cowl. The Riddler knew instinctively that the face didn't belong to his old nemesis.
An instant later, Nigma had proof that he was right, for Ape, in his turnabout, gave them a full view of another shape beyond.
The men in the room saw two Batmen, and there was no mistaking the real one. Even though Ape was the right physical size, the clumsy gorilla no longer looked the part that he was trying to pretend. Ape had gone hoodlum, giving his game away.
Ape was going to do what other crooks had tried. He intended to defeat Batman, and he had the tools to do it. Coming about with his gun, he needed only an instant's notice to locate his adversary and cut loose. But Ape didn't get the instant he required.
Batman was springing forward as Ape swung. The Caped Crusader immediately slammed down the small ball he held in his hand. There suddenly was a blast that rivaled any that a gun could produce. There was a flash of flame that produced a puff of pungent smoke, along with the echoes of the sharp report.
Ape reeled backward, momentarily dazzled by the brilliance. Batman had tossed down a flash-bang pellet.
Ape didn't like it. Nor did he relish the thing that followed.
Batman's swift hands landed like clamps on Ape's wrists, shoving the crook's arms high and wide. Ape felt his gun slipping under the twisty pressure that numbed his hands. He tugged the trigger, as a last resort.
The .45 went flying. The gun seemed to shoot itself right out of Ape's clutch, which, to a degree, it did. Coupled with Batman's twist, the recoil of the big automatic provided a kick that Ape could not stop. Then the brawny gorilla was in Batman's complete clutch.
Frantically, Ape tried to claw away hands that had shifted from his wrists to his throat. Two Batmen went grappling toward the door, kicking the gun that had bounced in that direction. Of the pair, Ape was putting up the greater fuss, because he was trying to get free.
The startled witnesses did not grasp the situation. That was why they came to aid Batman.
First, Daley, who was nearest. His attack was bare-handed, and he nearly mixed his Batmen as he thrust himself into the melee. Next, Clendon, bringing the whiskey bottle for a bludgeon. He picked Ape's head correctly, but missed it with his clumsy swings.
Finally, the Riddler came with his revolver. He was the coolest of the three, and could have inserted a telling shot, if everything had not gone wrong when he arrived.
Ape had profited by the interference. Unable to get Batman's hands loose from his throat, Ape shoved one big paw sideward and grabbed Daley by the neck. With the other fist, he snatched the whiskey bottle from Clendon and swung it at Batman's head.
It took a contortionist's twist on Batman's part to escape that desperate stroke. The bottle left Ape's hand as it skimmed Batman's head, and found Clendon's fat stomach, doubling the jeweler in a heap.
Then Ape was free from Batman's clutch. In staggery fashion, the masquerader reached for the gun and snatched it from the floor. Batman dived for cover.
The Riddler had stumbled into Clendon, was trying again to tell which Batman was which, when the two lunged for the doorway.
Ape was trying to get away. Batman was hoping to block him. Trapped between them, Daley added to the mix-up. The three went through the doorway in a mass; both the cloaked fighters were slugging with their fists, parrying like fencers across Daley's shoulders.
The grapple carried to the stairs. By then, Daley had dropped out of it. Bowling over the edge, Batman and Ape Bundy did not stop when they reached the landing. A double blur of whirling black, they went bounding down to the floor below. The Riddler was scarcely out of the study when he saw their take-off from the landing.
Batman wanted the human gorilla as a living trophy, to learn more about Ape's masquerade. The tumble, instead of ruining Batman's purpose, really bettered it. Batman saw to it that Ape took the heavy bumps as they went downward.
When they hit the lower floor, Ape struck first. Batman, releasing him, did a roll beyond, then came to hands and knees, expecting to see Ape lying limp. Instead, Ape was on his feet, reeling toward the darkened living room on the other side of the hall.
The cowl was jammed hard down over Ape's eyes, proof that his head had taken most of the thumping on the steps. Considering the stoutness of Ape's skull, it wasn't surprising that the Big Baboon had found his feet.
Ape still had his gun, but didn't seem to know how to use it. He nearly toppled when he staggered into the living room. Gathering a hold on one of the doorway curtains, he managed to pull himself about.
By then, Batman was springing back to the corner of the steps. He was about to call for the crook's surrender, when there was a crash from the vestibule. Lurkers outside had heard the gunfire and were coming through. As they shoved the inner door ahead of them, Batman saw a number of revolvers.
The Dark Knight sprang forward to meet the crooks. As he came, he jabbed his finger toward the curtains where Ape's gun was wavering into sight.
Batman mouthed an incoherent snarl that would have suited Ape. It sounded like a plea for assistance.
Six in number, the crooks turned and opened full blast at the curtains. From the way the Masked Manhunter had pointed, the crooks had an idea that they were dealing with another mob, and they acted accordingly.
Amid that gunfire, Batman wheeled toward the stairs, confident that he would have a new vantage point by the time the mobsters learned of their mistake. That was why the Caped Crusader happened to be looking up the stairway, to see the menace that confronted him.
The Riddler was on the landing, aiming point-blank with his gun, and Batman was his target. The Dark Knight's clever ruse had proved a boomerang.
Very logically, the Riddler was aiming at the caped fighter who had given the high sign to the crooks. The climax, if the Riddler provided it, would be death to the real Caped Crusader, not the false. The Prince of Puzzlers was about to shoot the old nemesis who had saved his diamonds from the clutches of Ape Bundy!
Batman wasn't thinking about the Riddler's diamonds at that moment. His one idea was self-preservation, and he took heroic measures toward it. Five feet short of the stairway, the Masked Manhunter made a headlong pitch for the bottom step, landing there as the Riddler's first shots whined above his head.
Striking shoulder first, Batman took a sideward roll. The man dressed in green moved forward from the landing and trained his gun straight down the steps themselves, aiming for a figure that he thought he had already clipped. The Riddler pumped two more bullets. Then paused, astonishment on his face.
There was no one at the bottom of the stairs! Like a wraith of living smoke, Batman had vanished, following his dive, as though the solid floor had swallowed him!
To be continued ...