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 19 - CRIME'S PROOF
Things struck home to Harvey Bullock, so swiftly that Batman did not have to tell him. The Penguin had brought the alligator satchel here to Curly Regal, and had obviously turned it over to the big-shot. More anxious to keep the loot than the bag, Curly had planned to carry the contents farther.
He wouldn't have gone far. The inner package had a time bomb, instead of diamonds. It hadn't been meant for Curly, originally. The Penguin had simply planned to get rid of a few unneeded con men who were to take the police on the wrong trail.
There had been a switch of bags, back at the hotel. For a short while, The Penguin had carried the one with the diamonds. But the satchel that he had hauled into the car was the false bag that his pals had been forced to leave there.
Unquestionably, The Penguin had originally planned to murder Curly Regal in the hideout. Diamonds gone, Curly dead -- the set-up was perfect, from the double-crosser's standpoint. But with the dummy bag on his hands, and a bomb inside it, the Black Bird of Prey had been forced to other measures.
His new idea had almost worked. The Penguin had tried to make Curly a perfect fall guy. The empty satchel would have meant that Curly was on his way with the diamonds. Blown to bits in his car, Curly would have disappeared forever.
But there would have been no evidence to show that the big-shot had been blasted. It was Curly's habit to blow up other people, not himself.
Batman had ruined The Penguin's game. The next job was to find the Man of a Thousand Umbrellas. Remembering the shots from the stairway, Bullock started out, ordering his men along. The Caped Crusader followed, only part way.
He stopped at a front window, to view the scene below. From his high observation point, Batman witnessed the next scene in the drama.
Cars had pulled up in front of the apartment house. Commissioner Gordon was getting out of one, accompanied by Alan Clendon, while Mushy Nebuchadnezzer was stepping from another. Detectives were pointing to the doorway, telling the commissioner that Bullock had gone upstairs. At that juncture, The Penguin came reeling from the doorway.
He was dazed, badly, which made him more dangerous. He started shooting with his umbrella as he came, and the detectives wisely ducked. The Penguin's shots were wild, as he quickly tried to waddle across the sidewalk. No one was hurt by the first shots.
Before the criminal mastermind could deliver more, Batman quickly climbed out the window and jumped toward The Penguin, using his cape as it were a gliding parachute. The Caped Crusader made a grab for the arch-villian and his umbrella. The pair went headlong into Nebuchadnezzer's car, which was manned by a driver. The Black Bird of Prey had grabbed another gun from an ankle holster and was aiming it at the driver, mouthing a frantic order: "Get going, or I'll blast you!"
Commissioner Gordon was shouting to his officers to do something before The Penguin escaped.
By that time, Batman had gripped The Penguin's revolver and managed to snatch it away from the crook. Half in the car, the little society king of Gotham's underworld made a savage twist, sped his hands to The Dark Knight's throat.
Batman was easily able to knock The Penguin's hands away and slugged him forcibly in the face. The Man of a Thousand Umbrella's finally had enough. He was defeated.
Policemen arrived to drag The Penguin to his feet.
Bullock heard The Penguin mutter, "Damn Caped Creep, it could've worked if it weren't for you and your demented clan!"
"The Penguin just pulled a double cross," said the detective. "Let's see if he wants to talk about it. I can't wait to hear what else he says. He's the man who knows where the diamonds are."
***
The Penguin's real name, as it would read on the criminal indictment, was Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot and he was, indeed, a rare bird among Batman's foes. Always nattily attired in top hat and tails, "The Penguin," as he was so widely known, was a criminal mastermind with a penchant for trick umbrellas.
Behind a two-way mirror, Commissioner Gordon looked at the image of Cobblepot sitting in a plain wooden chair behind a plain wooden table in Interrogation Room Number Three at police headquarters. The Penguin got his nickname mainly from his appearance, the commissioner thought to himself. The villian was short, paunchy, and burdened with a prominent aquiline nose. He imagined that Cobblepot had turned to crime in order to acquire the wealth and power necessary to rise above all those who ridiculed him.
Batman stood alongside the commissioner watching Harvey Bullock do his job in questioning the Black Bird of Prey.
"Has he revealed where the diamonds are, yet?" Batman asked.
The commissioner just shook his head as he watched Bullock stomp from the room.
The detective approached his boss and The Masked Avenger of Gotham City. Bullock said, "The Penguin spoke as though he were the person who had been double-crossed."
Batman continued to stare at his longtime foe through the mirror.
"It doesn't make sense," argued Bullock. "Who could have double-crossed The Penguin?"
"I don't know," replied the commissioner.
"Let me try," Batman said.
It was just a beat before Gordon nodded. Bullock scoffed at the request. He didn't believe that Batman could pry any additional information out of the little crook any better than he could.
Batman entered the interrogation room and stood in front of The Penguin, who looked up and smiled at The Caped Crusader.
"Good evening, my masked adversary," The Penguin said pleasantly. "I suppose you're here to ask me some questions."
Batman just stared and said nothing.
"It could've worked, Batman. Fifteen million big ones. Everyone was fooled -- even you," The Penguin continued.
Batman said nothing.
"Fifteen ..." the crook's voice dropped to almost a whisper, "... big ones."
Batman remained quiet.
The Penguin looked up into the unemotional face of his longtime pursuer. It was his turn to clam up.
In his usual growling whisper, Batman asked, "Where are the diamonds?"
The Penguin looked down and then back up into the face of the Dark Knight. He hesitated for a moment and then with a pained expression on his face, he whispered in a defeated tone, "I ... don't know."
Batman turned and left the room.
"Well?" Bullock asked when Batman returned from the room.
Batman said in a firm voice of conviction, "I believe him. He's been double- crossed."
Commissioner Gordon and Harvey Bullock were astonished. Instead of winding down, the mystery just became deeper.
***
Crime Alley, one of the worst parts of Gotham City. The neighborhood where a young Bruce Wayne witnessed the murder of his parents deserved its nickname. Whenever the heroes of Gotham wanted to take some time out and nab some hoodlums -- this was the place to go. It was like a supermarket of crime. But most of it was done by the lowest of the low on the feeding chain of crime.
On the rooftop of a four-story apartment building that stood on a corner, a solitary female figure stood looking down for some action. The tall brunette dressed in a form-fitting maroon and black costume with a long cape stood in deep concentration.
She didn't hear the approach of another figure, who wisely did not approach the woman too closely.
"Looking for some action?" Nightwing asked The Huntress.
She twirled to face him quickly, not entirely sure who had sneaked up on her.
"You?" she exclaimed.
"Is that the only way you can greet me?" Nightwing asked jokingly.
"I ... I ..."
"It's okay," he interrupted. "I spotted you hanging around and thought I'd just stop and say hi."
"To me?"
"Yeah, why not?"
"I wasn't sure if I'd be welcomed on the team," she replied.
"Well, you're not on the team -- unless HE says so."
"Has he said anything?"
"You'll learn that he doesn't say much," Nightwing instructed. "But I think it's safe to say we all believe you're pretty good at this. You can handle yourself well enough."
She flushed at the statement.
Nightwing looked at her. "Can I ask you something? Why do you want to do this? It's dangerous."
She looked at him for a moment, trying to decide what to tell the longtime partner of Batman.
"I'm the only surviving member of my family. The Mafia dons in this city decided that my family should be exterminated and I want to pay them back in kind," she told him.
"We don't kill," Nightwing responded.
"Hey! You don't know what it's like to ..."
He cut her off quickly. "Who said I don't know what it's like?" Organized crime figures cut down my family, too. But we don't get back at them by killing them. We bring them to justice," he said.
She stared at him.
"I ... they have to pay," she said.
"They do. Listen, if you want to be on the team -- you can't kill. That's just about rule number one." Nightwing said. "If you kill, you're no better than they are."
"They have to pay!" she demanded again.
"They will pay ... trust me," he said softly. "I know."
She stood quietly, comtemplating.
"Look," he said, "you've been a help on this case. I think you can make it." Nightwing held out a small electronic device and handed it to her.
She took the device gently in her hand. "What is it?"
"We call it a comm-link. It's an encrypted radio device we use to communicate," he explained. "You won't be on our primary channel, yet. You'll be on your own private radio channel for now."
He pointed out some features. "Just put the earpiece in your ear and you can press this button for now. Call for 'O' ..."
"O?" she asked.
"That's all you need to know for now," he replied. "She'll send help or give you information if you need it. Don't try to chat, she'll get pissed."
Huntress put the device away in a compartment on her costume. "Thanks," she said with a small smile.
Nightwing nodded. "Stay safe. We'll be in touch."
With that, he threw a Batarang with a line attached to a nearby building and jumped from his nighttime meeting with Gotham City's newest crimefighter.
***
Deep under Wayne Manor was the fabulous Batcave. In the cave's Operation Center, Batman was staring a hole into a large computer projection screen that showed four faces.
In the top left hand corner of the screen was a picture of Alan Clendon. Next to him was a picture of Jon Daley. In the bottom left hand corner was a photo of Isak Droot, and the fourth picture was of Mushy Nebuchadnezzer. These were his four main suspects that could have motive, means, and opportunity to had placed themselves into this intricate plot that included super-criminals, mobsters and intrigue in the diamond industry.
Clendon, Batman decided, was the least likely suspect. According to all records, the man had never had any contact with questionable people. He didn't even have a parking ticket. Bruce Wayne had extensive contact with Clendon and had seen nothing criminal in his nature. Years of experience told The Masked Manhunter that this man was not a suspect in this case.
Batman's fingers started to play on the computer keyboard. He began a computer check into the background of Jon Daley.
While Batman was concentrating on reading Daley's business background, there was suddenly a small cough by his side. The Caped Crusader looked up. "Hmmm? Yes, Alfred?"
"Sir, there is a young lady on the house phone. She insists on speaking to Mr Bruce Wayne."
Almost mindlessly, Batman replied, "Don't we get a lot of those kinds of calls, Alfred?"
"This one is from a Miss Romanova. I believe you spoke to her some months ago."
Batman looked up with interest. "Okay, I'll speak to her."
The Gotham Goliath got up from his chair and walked a short distance to another desk to pick up the phone. After pressing the line, he said, "Hello, billionaire Bruce Wayne speaking."
A smiling voice greeted him with a feminine Russian accent. "Ah, Mr Wayne good to hear you."
"Miss Romanova, what can I do for you?"
"A gentleman who gets right to the point. Very well. I was wondering if you might be able to contact a friend of yours for me?"
"A friend? What friend might that be?"
"Oh, let's say he's tall, dark, handsome, and likes to go out a night to various parts of your fair city," she said cryptically.
"I'm not sure who you are referring to," he replied.
"Oh? I'm sorry to hear that," she coyed. "Well, if you happen to run into him you may wish to tell him that there is a man I am following that he might be interested in talking to. It seems this South African gentleman has some diamonds that may be of some interest to your friend."
That statement got Batman's attention. He cleared his throat. "Where might my friend happen to meet you?"
He could hear the smile on the other end of the phone. She told him, "Across the street from Number 24 Kingston Square. Would your friend know where that is?"
"I believe it's in the part of the city that is called University Village," he replied.
"Marvelous! I hope your 'friend' can join me."
The phone clicked.
"Something of interest, sir?" Alfred asked.
"You might say that," Batman answered. "I'll be going out, Alfred."
"Very good, sir."
***
It was a dark night in Gotham as the Batmobile quietly pulled up in the alley across the street from Number 24 Kingston Square. Batman got out of the vehicle.
A short distance away, a beautiful woman in black with long red hair stood in front of him.
"You are ..." he started.
"Black Widow," she answered holding up her hand. "I understand you don't like it when interlopers come into your city. But I've been following an international case that has led me here."
Batman led the way toward the side of the building across the street from the address she gave. He wanted to eyeball the target. The two costumed figures knelt low behind some bushes.
"What case was that?" he whispered to her.
"Some time ago in Amsterdam there was a murder. The murderer was a well- known diamond cutter by the name of ..."
"Isak Droot," he finished.
There was a look of surprise on Black Widow's face. "You are good," she told him.
Batman kept his eyes on the building across the street.
Black Widow continued, "While following this Droot, I found he had a great deal of contact with another gentleman by the name of Jon Daley. A South African."
"Yes, I've been checking into his background as well. My research isn't complete, yet," Batman explained.
"Did you know he was former mercenary soldier?"
A light bulb turned on in the Caped Crusader's head.
"Interesting. Good with a gun, I presume?"
"Very," she said.
Batman remembered the night in the alley when Growdy was struck down by an unknown sniper.
"Want to check this building out?" Batman asked the woman.
"I thought you'd never ask," she smiled.
***
Number 24 was an old house, boarded and dilapidated, that looked entirely unoccupied. The Gotham Avenger and the Black Widow moved through a passage beside the building.
They noted a basement grating that looked loose. Working on it, Batman pried the grating away. Two shapes shrouded in darkness, they slid through and crept into the cellar, picking their path by the guarded beam of a tiny flashlight.
Batman turned off the flashlight when he saw a light ahead. The glow came from the bottom of a closed door. Approaching, The Masked Manhunter and the remarkable woman found the door locked, but he worked deftly and silently with a tiny lockpick that he obtained from his utility belt.
Under Batman's probing skill, the lock yielded. The Caped Crusader inched the door inward.
He saw a squalid room, furnished with a cot, a table, and a workbench. On view were the special tools used by diamond cutters, with machines for grinding and polishing. The delicate equipment proved the place to be the hideout of Isak Droot, but the man himself was absent. Seeing a door at the front of the room, Batman, with Black Widow behind him, moved across to it.
At guttural sounds from the other side, Batman wheeled away, just as the door came sweeping inward. Two men launched into the room. One was Droot, scrawny but agile, his withery face lifted. The other was Daley, who had arrived and pushed his way in through the front.
Droot must have heard Daley's entrance and gone to meet him. Daley was as violent as Droot, and was brandishing a gun to offset the hammer that the other man waved. They were shouting at each other in Dutch, but most of their words were oaths peculiar to the language. Though Batman knew the tongue, he caught but little from their argument.
Then Batman was interrupting in a language that all could understand: his fists. The two fighters swung and drove for him. Whether the emergency had united them, The Dark Knight did not wait to learn. He met them with swinging feet and hands that clubbed the hammer from Droot, the revolver from Daley.
It was Droot who managed a twist in the direction of the room's front door. As Black Widow downed Daley with the swing of her foot, Droot scooped up the lost revolver and dashed away with it. There was murder in the fellow's yells. Evidently Droot was going berserk, as he had in Amsterdam.
Batman went after Droot. Catching up to the older man, The Masked Manhunter swung the murderer around by the shoulder and slugged him in the face with a quick jab. Droot dropped to the ground unconscious.
Turning back to the room, Batman quickly saw that the Black Widow had things well in hand. Daley may had been a mercenary but he was no match for the fighting prowess of a woman of extraordinary talents and experience.
Batman spoke in the air. "O? Two to be picked up by the police at 24 Kingston Square. You can tell Bullock that it's Daley and Droot."
"Roger, boss," came the reply in his ear.
"I see you have hidden helpers," Black Widow remarked. "I met two of them when we rescued your friend Bruce Wayne from some clown and his girlfriend."
He only nodded.
Batman grabbed Daley by the lapels of his jacket and lifted his face toward him. "Where's the jewels?" Batman growled.
Daley laughed at him. "That's what I came here to find out, too, you costumed freak!" he spat.
"What do you mean?"
"Droot was supposed to be holding the Durban Diamond," the South African explained. "I've known him for a long time. He was supposed to get the Durban to cut from that Penguin chap. We were going to take it and run ... split the profits. He does the cutting, and I have the contacts to sell it."
"But?" Batman asked.
"He don't have it!" Daley cried out. "He don't have it! We don't know what happened."
Batman threw Daley back down to the floor. The Penguin was double-crossing Regal and all his minions. That plot failed. The Penguin was supposedly being double-crossed by Daley and Droot. Now that apparently failed. So where were fifteen million in diamonds? Who had them?
Men were coming through the front. Bullock had arrived, with a few members of his squad. They caught Droot in the glare of their flashlights. He was quickly handcuffed.
Batman did not wait to talk to Bullock. He was a capable detective, he knew what would have to be done, here.
Grabbing the hand of the Black Widow, the two costumed vigilantes glided back along the darkened hall to the rear of the building. Again, Batman was in darkness, when the police reached Droot's room and took Daley into custody. Past the rear door, The Masked Manhunter and the remarkable Russian woman watched while the detectives searched for diamonds and found none. Meanwhile, Bullock was shaking Daley back to his senses, demanding to know what he knew about the missing millions.
The South African would probably relate the same story to the detective.
Moving out to the open grating with Black Widow, Batman thought about how his race to this hideaway had not worked out as he had hoped. The Caped Crusader with the help of Black Widow had handled matters, so far as Daley and Droot were concerned, but the diamonds were still missing.
This case had run into so many dead ends. Beginning with Whitey; following with Ape Bundy, Stephen Helk and Bob Holbert; even in such cases as Wallingham, Rendy, and Growdy -- the crime ring had been dropping excess weight, losing small-fry members who could have talked too much.
Much of that had been planned by the brain behind the game. Of which Daley was one.
Nevertheless, Batman had cracked the case wide open, by proving that Curly Regal was not the big-shot that the law supposed. The Penguin, gentleman crook who managed the actual robberies, had been working for some hidden brain -- not for Curly Regal.
Batman had to keep going while the trail was hot, otherwise fifteen million in diamonds might leave Gotham City and soon.
Once again, the two costumed figures found themselves across the street from the building of which now the police occupied.
"Need a ride someplace?" Batman asked the Black Widow.
She shook her head and smiled. "Thank you for letting me help you. Maybe we'll get together again sometime in the future."
Under other circumstances, he would had liked to think about that possibility in his mind. But there was one thing that kept him from thinking in that manner and her name was ... Selina.
***
A few hours later at police headquarters, Jon Daley was glowering from a corner in an interrogation room at Commissioner Gordon. No longer bland, Daley became stubborn at Gordon's questioning. The commissioner was still at it when others appeared.
One arrival was Judith Trexel. Seeing the girl, Harvey Bullock realized that she must be the double who had played the part of Cynthia Crawford. Bullock waited to hear the girl's story before arresting her.
Judith told it, not only to Gordon and Bullock but to Clendon and a few of the association jewelers, the persons who had suffered the actual losses through robbery. The girl's story carried the ring of conviction. It was accepted without question.
Pointing to Daley, Gordon queried: "Did you ever see this man, Miss Trexel?"
"I don't think so," replied Judith. "He might have been at the diamond show the first night --"
"But did The Penguin mention him? Did he speak of a man named Jon Daley?
Judith shook her bead. Daley gave a smirk and settled back in his chair. He wasn't groggy any longer, but he pretended to be when Gordon began to ply him with new questions.
Daley's silence produced a conference between those involved. Finishing with a nod, Clendon turned to Gordon.
"We can link Daley with Droot," declared Clendon, "by referring to some trade-journal reports of a few months ago. I think that Daley made statements which appeared in print."
"Where are the journals?" queried Gordon. "At your office?"
"Yes," replied Clendon, "and I believe they may contain some other data. Some correspondence from the South African diamond syndicate."
The commissioner nodded and sent Clendon to get the information.
Gordon returned to the interrogation room and glared at Daley. "Behind your crimes lay a double motive," declared Gordon. "Not only did you count upon disposing of the stolen diamonds. You knew that their loss would force new purchases of the uncut product. As a member of the diamond syndicate, you could realize huge commissions, while keeping the stolen goods for the future."
Bullock thrust himself into the discussion. He punctuated Gordon's remark with the demand: "Where have you got the diamonds, Daley?"
"Listen, you doughnut eating flatfoot, I told you twenty times, I ... don't ... know," came the reply.
***
Clendon had found the old trade-journal reports. They proved conclusively that Daley had checked on Droot and found that the wanted diamond cutter was actually in Gotham City.
Commissioner Gordon spoke of Daley's double game. He said, "It occurred to me that Daley had sold those those uncut diamonds in the very beginning so that they could be stolen."
The thing linked home to Gordon. It made the proof complete. Turning to the group, the commissioner gave his summary. "Bringing those uncut diamonds was the first step in Daley's game," announced Gordon. "He needed a man to handle huge robberies, so he picked The Penguin. He gave The Penguin another duty: to frame Curly Regal and make him look like the brain. For the first robbery, The Penguin planted White at The Riddler's house, and Curly sent Ape Bundy to stage the robbery --"
"Which failed," croaked Daley. "Don't forget that, commissioner."
"It was supposed to fail!" exclaimed Gordon, who was in his finest form. "So that Curly Regal would be forced into hiding. It must have been The Penguin who called the Templeton Club and gave the tip-off. The real robberies followed. Very probably" -- for once, the commissioner was playing a hunch -- "The Penguin told Curly that the diamonds were going to Droot, for cutting. Only, The Penguin placed them somewhere else. With you, Daley. We know the rest. How The Penguin, in trouble, tried to send Curly off along a false trail. The question is: where are the diamonds? I can answer that. They are where you put them, Daley!"
Again, Daley grinned. "But how did I get them?" he queried. "Can you answer that, commissioner?"
Gordon stopped. He couldn't answer the question. It was still a mystery.
Daley looked about, saw accusing eyes. He licked his lips again, then said: "I'll talk."
But when Daley talked, he didn't tell the things that the listeners wanted to hear. "I knew that Droot was in Gotham," he said. "I was responsible, and I had to find the fellow. It struck me that he was the very man that the crooks would use as a diamond cutter. Tonight, for the first time, I heard where Droot was. I went to see him first. I knew that he would go berserk, and kill, to avoid capture. But I was willing to risk a lone visit, because Droot knew me. I felt, too, that if I turned him over, it would square me for letting him get loose. I'm sharp, but not crooked. You can't prove anything against me. You'll drive me crazy, asking me where the diamonds are, but it won't do you any good. I don't have them. You've heard my story -- make the most of it."
Direct though the statement was, it made no impression on Gordon. The commissioner told Bullock to take Daley away.
"Wait," the commissioner called out. He wasn't finished with the questioning. "Who killed White?"
Daley blinked, actually surprised. It was Gordon who gave answer, a bit irritably. "There was a fight downstairs, remember? That's when White was killed."
"White was murdered beforehand," was the calm-toned reply. "Grant me that, commissioner, on the basis that every crook who knew too much has been eliminated during this run of crime. Even Ape Bundy was eliminated."
"By The Penguin's tip-off!" exclaimed Gordon. " I said that the robbery was supposed to fail. I have it! The Penguin murdered White! Our brain here" -- he gestured toward Daley -- "is supposed to have framed Curly Regal, through The Penguin. We are agreed upon that point, but a brain should have also foreseen that the frame-up might not work. Besides, it didn't quite cover the matter of The Penguin. We must regard The Penguin as a double-crosser, and no super-criminal would trust a tool of that sort. The brain was quite ready in case things went wrong. He had another man upon whom crime could be pinned, should the Curly frame-up be uncovered. But who?"
***
As the police and others were wracking their minds at Gotham Police headquarters trying to figure out who double-crossed who -- Batman was in the Batcave going over some computer files. His great mind also held many of the same questions that were being asked some fourteen miles away.
As she often did, Selina Kyle came into the Operations Center of the cave, wearing an extremely short robe, and drying her beautiful mane of dark hair. She had just got out of the shower and came down to see if she could entice Bruce to forgo any climbing of rooftops this evening.
Without even looking at her, Batman could tell what she had on her mind by the sudden perfume smell in the air. "Selina, how many times have I told you it's best not to come down here practically undressed. What would Alfred think?"
"He's seen me undressed almost as much you have," she replied in a bored tone.
"You expect me to concentrate with you looking like that?"
"I was hoping that you might concentrate on me, yes," she smiled.
He knew he wasn't going to win a banter contest with her -- that was impossible.
"I'm working," he told her.
"You're always working," she said as she worked a finger down his back. "Remember what I've always told you, handsome, all work and no play ... makes a very boring Batman."
"You know," he told her softly, "you're worse here than you were on the rooftops in the past. Now you don't even make a pretense."
"I don't need to," she said sweetly. "I have you wrapped around my little finger."
He growled.
She laughed.
He never looked at her through their conversation. Batman knew that if he did, his concentration would be ruined by her beauty. He kept his eyes on the computer screen, just scrolling.
Suddenly, a picture flashed on the screen. A man who appeared to be from a foreign land with a beard and hair that was beginning to go gray.
"Who's that?" Selina asked.
"Mushy Nebuchadnezzer," he informed her. "He's a new member of the Gotham Jewelers' Association."
She snickered loudly.
"What?" he asked.
"World's greatest detective," she muttered.
"What?! What are you talking about?"
"Look at that Mushy guy. Or who you think is Mushy. Your brain must be mushy."
"Selina?! What are you saying?"
She laughed. "Any jackass can plainly see that's The Riddler!"
"WHAT?! Are you sure?"
"Oh, I'm sure, stud," she said. "I'm as sure as how turned-on you get when you see me in a short dress."
"How do you know that's him? It doesn't look anything like him."
"Look at the eyes, dear. That's him. Any woman can tell a man by his eyes. If I was disguised, do you think you could see me through my eyes, knowing how you're always looking at them when we're making ..."
"Yes!" he exclaimed.
"Do you have his address?" she asked.
Batman's fingers played across the computer keyboard.
"Yes, it's right here," Batman told her. "When I get over there, I'll thrash him brutally."
"No way, boy! His ass is mine!" she demanded. "I found him, I get first crack. I owe him for trying to kill me in that musuem."
"Haven't you beaten him enough for that?" he asked her.
"NO! You don't understand. There's a rogue's code. He broke it. He has to pay. You can pick up the pieces."
"Oh, gee, thanks," he replied.
Selina ran a finger down his chest and circled the Bat emblem on his chest. In a sexy voice she told her champion, "Don't sound so disappointed. Trust me, lover, when I'm done with him, I'll be ready for action with you. All -- Night -- Long."
She kissed his cheek lightly.
Unfortunately for The Riddler, there was no argument.
***
In many ways Gotham was a very fascinating city. What made it quite unique from many major cities was the vast number of high-rise buildings. Gotham, on a whole, was not very large in land area. Built upon three main and several smaller islands that were surrounded by the Gotham River and Gotham Harbor, space was limited. There weren't that many single family homes available.
After the vast amount of industrial and commercial property, building residential property vertically was better than vast tracks of single homes.
Unknown to many of the residents of the city was a world that was occupied by rooftop dwellers. People who could transverse the skyline as well as most commuters moved through the streets of the city. Among those rooftop dwellers was, of course, Batman, and Catwoman.
In the Diamond District of the city was the Prospect Conduminiums. From the seventeenth floor rooftop, a solitary figure in purple lowered herself to a fourteenth floor window.
Catwoman was beautiful, bold, deadly, highly intelligent and an incredible athlete who was an expert in security systems and stealth entry. This entrance was a piece of cake for her.
Entering through a window, she silently dropped to the floor of the apartment. The room was dark but she could see light coming from other rooms in the condo.
Sometime in the past, before she became romantically involved with her Dark Knight, Catwoman enjoyed these kind of unlawful entries and stealing her victims blind -- often while the people were in the apartment! It was the challenge that gave her an artificial high. She was good. No, better than good -- she was the best.
This time it wasn't a challenge. This was personal. This time someone was going to be taught a lesson. The one to be taught was ...
"Eddie!" she said aloud.
The man whose back was turned to her, packing a suitcase on his couch, jumped at the sound of the woman's voice. He turned to face Catwoman quickly.
"Uh, who are you?!" he said in a phony inflected accent. "How'd you get in here?"
"That isn't important, Eddie," she said. "What you need to know is that your game is over."
"What game?" the man said. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yeah? Who do you think you're dealing with, here, Riddler? Harley?"
The man started to walk backward as she slowly approached him.
Catwoman bared her claws. "There's an easy way to see what's behind those whiskers you have on your face, Eddie."
He kept backing away from her.
"I have a score to settle with you," she told him. "You tried to kill me in that musuem. What were you thinking, Eddie? You were going to kill me? A longtime friend?"
"I ... I ..."
"Oh, so you do know what I'm talking about, hmmm?" she teased. She kept getting closer to him.
Suddenly, tired of running, the man who had claimed to be Mushy Nebuchadnezzer stopped and his demeaner seemed to change before Catwoman's eyes.
"Hey! Why not, Selina?! You've gone over to the other side," he said. "You've taken up with Bruce Wayne and at night you cavort with Batman!"
The first punch, a left hook to The Riddler's face, was accompanied by the word: "Who."
"I," was delivered with a right jab to the chin.
A kick to the body was sent with "Choose to be with."
The Riddler was sent sprawling to the floor in pain.
Catwoman grabbed The Riddler by the hair forcibly and pulled his head back. In a menacing tone that only she could deliver, the former Princess of Plunder added, "Is none of your business."
With her retractable razor-sharp claws, she began to peel away the false beard that The Riddler had on his face. She had no interest in being careful while doing it and several cuts and nicks adorned her former friend's face.
From behind, another voice was heard in the room. The voice was very familiar to Catwoman and the Prince of Puzzlers.
"That's enough, Catwoman," Batman declared.
The Riddler giggled. "You heard your boyfriend," he said with sarcasm.
He was rewarded with another punch to the face.
Catwoman threw The Riddler down as though she were throwing out a bag of dirty trash into garbage can.
Her voice dripped with venom when she said to her lover, "He's all yours."
Batman picked The Riddler up by his lapels and put his nose up against his longtime adversary's nose. "You're the brain, Riddler. But guess what? It's over. You've lost again. Where's the jewels?"
Catwoman began looking around the room. Who was better qualified to sniff out where fifteen million in gems were? Her eyes locked on a satchel made of alligator leather.
During the robbery at the Hotel Gotham, The Penguin had apparently left the real satchel containing the jewels in a curtain, where The Riddler had picked it up!
To everyone's earlier query, Batman knew who had murdered White. "You killed White, Riddler!" Batman said. "You murdered White because his dirty work was done and you didn't need him any longer. You didn't want him to lead the police to The Penguin! If the police had grabbed The Penguin, no one would've been able to steal the diamonds."
Catwoman opened the satchel. All the stolen diamonds were in it. She pulled out the Durban Diamond and held it her hand, admiring it. Her mind was clicking. She looked at Batman and then back to the huge gem that was worth a fortune, With a wistful sigh, she placed it back in the satchel.
In her head, she could her the voice of Bruce Wayne: "You don't have to steal, Selina. I can buy whatever you want."
Well, having a billionaire for a boyfriend does have it's benefits, she thought.
She said to the Caped Crusader, "Here's the loot, tall, dark and broody. Case closed. I'm outta here."
Looking to The Riddler, she said in an icy tone, "It's been fun, Eddie. Say hi to the gang in Arkham for me."
***
It was about ninety minutes later when Bruce Wayne arrived back to his master bedroom in Wayne Manor. The bathroom door was ajar and the shower was running. He quietly undressed and entered the huge shower stall.
Underneath the water, with her back to him, was the incredible Selina Kyle. The beads of water glistening from her body were a sight to behold to any man.
Bruce wrapped his arms around her and pressed his body against her magnificent form as he kissed the back of her neck.
"Mmmmm," was the response that he received in return.
His hands found two warm globes that he loved to touch.
"I have to thank you," he told Selina, "for helping me."
Squirming underneath his touch, Selina, responded, "Ahhh, I'm sure you'll, mmmm, return the favor."
"That's why I'm here," he teased.
-- Finis --
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 19 - CRIME'S PROOF
Things struck home to Harvey Bullock, so swiftly that Batman did not have to tell him. The Penguin had brought the alligator satchel here to Curly Regal, and had obviously turned it over to the big-shot. More anxious to keep the loot than the bag, Curly had planned to carry the contents farther.
He wouldn't have gone far. The inner package had a time bomb, instead of diamonds. It hadn't been meant for Curly, originally. The Penguin had simply planned to get rid of a few unneeded con men who were to take the police on the wrong trail.
There had been a switch of bags, back at the hotel. For a short while, The Penguin had carried the one with the diamonds. But the satchel that he had hauled into the car was the false bag that his pals had been forced to leave there.
Unquestionably, The Penguin had originally planned to murder Curly Regal in the hideout. Diamonds gone, Curly dead -- the set-up was perfect, from the double-crosser's standpoint. But with the dummy bag on his hands, and a bomb inside it, the Black Bird of Prey had been forced to other measures.
His new idea had almost worked. The Penguin had tried to make Curly a perfect fall guy. The empty satchel would have meant that Curly was on his way with the diamonds. Blown to bits in his car, Curly would have disappeared forever.
But there would have been no evidence to show that the big-shot had been blasted. It was Curly's habit to blow up other people, not himself.
Batman had ruined The Penguin's game. The next job was to find the Man of a Thousand Umbrellas. Remembering the shots from the stairway, Bullock started out, ordering his men along. The Caped Crusader followed, only part way.
He stopped at a front window, to view the scene below. From his high observation point, Batman witnessed the next scene in the drama.
Cars had pulled up in front of the apartment house. Commissioner Gordon was getting out of one, accompanied by Alan Clendon, while Mushy Nebuchadnezzer was stepping from another. Detectives were pointing to the doorway, telling the commissioner that Bullock had gone upstairs. At that juncture, The Penguin came reeling from the doorway.
He was dazed, badly, which made him more dangerous. He started shooting with his umbrella as he came, and the detectives wisely ducked. The Penguin's shots were wild, as he quickly tried to waddle across the sidewalk. No one was hurt by the first shots.
Before the criminal mastermind could deliver more, Batman quickly climbed out the window and jumped toward The Penguin, using his cape as it were a gliding parachute. The Caped Crusader made a grab for the arch-villian and his umbrella. The pair went headlong into Nebuchadnezzer's car, which was manned by a driver. The Black Bird of Prey had grabbed another gun from an ankle holster and was aiming it at the driver, mouthing a frantic order: "Get going, or I'll blast you!"
Commissioner Gordon was shouting to his officers to do something before The Penguin escaped.
By that time, Batman had gripped The Penguin's revolver and managed to snatch it away from the crook. Half in the car, the little society king of Gotham's underworld made a savage twist, sped his hands to The Dark Knight's throat.
Batman was easily able to knock The Penguin's hands away and slugged him forcibly in the face. The Man of a Thousand Umbrella's finally had enough. He was defeated.
Policemen arrived to drag The Penguin to his feet.
Bullock heard The Penguin mutter, "Damn Caped Creep, it could've worked if it weren't for you and your demented clan!"
"The Penguin just pulled a double cross," said the detective. "Let's see if he wants to talk about it. I can't wait to hear what else he says. He's the man who knows where the diamonds are."
***
The Penguin's real name, as it would read on the criminal indictment, was Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot and he was, indeed, a rare bird among Batman's foes. Always nattily attired in top hat and tails, "The Penguin," as he was so widely known, was a criminal mastermind with a penchant for trick umbrellas.
Behind a two-way mirror, Commissioner Gordon looked at the image of Cobblepot sitting in a plain wooden chair behind a plain wooden table in Interrogation Room Number Three at police headquarters. The Penguin got his nickname mainly from his appearance, the commissioner thought to himself. The villian was short, paunchy, and burdened with a prominent aquiline nose. He imagined that Cobblepot had turned to crime in order to acquire the wealth and power necessary to rise above all those who ridiculed him.
Batman stood alongside the commissioner watching Harvey Bullock do his job in questioning the Black Bird of Prey.
"Has he revealed where the diamonds are, yet?" Batman asked.
The commissioner just shook his head as he watched Bullock stomp from the room.
The detective approached his boss and The Masked Avenger of Gotham City. Bullock said, "The Penguin spoke as though he were the person who had been double-crossed."
Batman continued to stare at his longtime foe through the mirror.
"It doesn't make sense," argued Bullock. "Who could have double-crossed The Penguin?"
"I don't know," replied the commissioner.
"Let me try," Batman said.
It was just a beat before Gordon nodded. Bullock scoffed at the request. He didn't believe that Batman could pry any additional information out of the little crook any better than he could.
Batman entered the interrogation room and stood in front of The Penguin, who looked up and smiled at The Caped Crusader.
"Good evening, my masked adversary," The Penguin said pleasantly. "I suppose you're here to ask me some questions."
Batman just stared and said nothing.
"It could've worked, Batman. Fifteen million big ones. Everyone was fooled -- even you," The Penguin continued.
Batman said nothing.
"Fifteen ..." the crook's voice dropped to almost a whisper, "... big ones."
Batman remained quiet.
The Penguin looked up into the unemotional face of his longtime pursuer. It was his turn to clam up.
In his usual growling whisper, Batman asked, "Where are the diamonds?"
The Penguin looked down and then back up into the face of the Dark Knight. He hesitated for a moment and then with a pained expression on his face, he whispered in a defeated tone, "I ... don't know."
Batman turned and left the room.
"Well?" Bullock asked when Batman returned from the room.
Batman said in a firm voice of conviction, "I believe him. He's been double- crossed."
Commissioner Gordon and Harvey Bullock were astonished. Instead of winding down, the mystery just became deeper.
***
Crime Alley, one of the worst parts of Gotham City. The neighborhood where a young Bruce Wayne witnessed the murder of his parents deserved its nickname. Whenever the heroes of Gotham wanted to take some time out and nab some hoodlums -- this was the place to go. It was like a supermarket of crime. But most of it was done by the lowest of the low on the feeding chain of crime.
On the rooftop of a four-story apartment building that stood on a corner, a solitary female figure stood looking down for some action. The tall brunette dressed in a form-fitting maroon and black costume with a long cape stood in deep concentration.
She didn't hear the approach of another figure, who wisely did not approach the woman too closely.
"Looking for some action?" Nightwing asked The Huntress.
She twirled to face him quickly, not entirely sure who had sneaked up on her.
"You?" she exclaimed.
"Is that the only way you can greet me?" Nightwing asked jokingly.
"I ... I ..."
"It's okay," he interrupted. "I spotted you hanging around and thought I'd just stop and say hi."
"To me?"
"Yeah, why not?"
"I wasn't sure if I'd be welcomed on the team," she replied.
"Well, you're not on the team -- unless HE says so."
"Has he said anything?"
"You'll learn that he doesn't say much," Nightwing instructed. "But I think it's safe to say we all believe you're pretty good at this. You can handle yourself well enough."
She flushed at the statement.
Nightwing looked at her. "Can I ask you something? Why do you want to do this? It's dangerous."
She looked at him for a moment, trying to decide what to tell the longtime partner of Batman.
"I'm the only surviving member of my family. The Mafia dons in this city decided that my family should be exterminated and I want to pay them back in kind," she told him.
"We don't kill," Nightwing responded.
"Hey! You don't know what it's like to ..."
He cut her off quickly. "Who said I don't know what it's like?" Organized crime figures cut down my family, too. But we don't get back at them by killing them. We bring them to justice," he said.
She stared at him.
"I ... they have to pay," she said.
"They do. Listen, if you want to be on the team -- you can't kill. That's just about rule number one." Nightwing said. "If you kill, you're no better than they are."
"They have to pay!" she demanded again.
"They will pay ... trust me," he said softly. "I know."
She stood quietly, comtemplating.
"Look," he said, "you've been a help on this case. I think you can make it." Nightwing held out a small electronic device and handed it to her.
She took the device gently in her hand. "What is it?"
"We call it a comm-link. It's an encrypted radio device we use to communicate," he explained. "You won't be on our primary channel, yet. You'll be on your own private radio channel for now."
He pointed out some features. "Just put the earpiece in your ear and you can press this button for now. Call for 'O' ..."
"O?" she asked.
"That's all you need to know for now," he replied. "She'll send help or give you information if you need it. Don't try to chat, she'll get pissed."
Huntress put the device away in a compartment on her costume. "Thanks," she said with a small smile.
Nightwing nodded. "Stay safe. We'll be in touch."
With that, he threw a Batarang with a line attached to a nearby building and jumped from his nighttime meeting with Gotham City's newest crimefighter.
***
Deep under Wayne Manor was the fabulous Batcave. In the cave's Operation Center, Batman was staring a hole into a large computer projection screen that showed four faces.
In the top left hand corner of the screen was a picture of Alan Clendon. Next to him was a picture of Jon Daley. In the bottom left hand corner was a photo of Isak Droot, and the fourth picture was of Mushy Nebuchadnezzer. These were his four main suspects that could have motive, means, and opportunity to had placed themselves into this intricate plot that included super-criminals, mobsters and intrigue in the diamond industry.
Clendon, Batman decided, was the least likely suspect. According to all records, the man had never had any contact with questionable people. He didn't even have a parking ticket. Bruce Wayne had extensive contact with Clendon and had seen nothing criminal in his nature. Years of experience told The Masked Manhunter that this man was not a suspect in this case.
Batman's fingers started to play on the computer keyboard. He began a computer check into the background of Jon Daley.
While Batman was concentrating on reading Daley's business background, there was suddenly a small cough by his side. The Caped Crusader looked up. "Hmmm? Yes, Alfred?"
"Sir, there is a young lady on the house phone. She insists on speaking to Mr Bruce Wayne."
Almost mindlessly, Batman replied, "Don't we get a lot of those kinds of calls, Alfred?"
"This one is from a Miss Romanova. I believe you spoke to her some months ago."
Batman looked up with interest. "Okay, I'll speak to her."
The Gotham Goliath got up from his chair and walked a short distance to another desk to pick up the phone. After pressing the line, he said, "Hello, billionaire Bruce Wayne speaking."
A smiling voice greeted him with a feminine Russian accent. "Ah, Mr Wayne good to hear you."
"Miss Romanova, what can I do for you?"
"A gentleman who gets right to the point. Very well. I was wondering if you might be able to contact a friend of yours for me?"
"A friend? What friend might that be?"
"Oh, let's say he's tall, dark, handsome, and likes to go out a night to various parts of your fair city," she said cryptically.
"I'm not sure who you are referring to," he replied.
"Oh? I'm sorry to hear that," she coyed. "Well, if you happen to run into him you may wish to tell him that there is a man I am following that he might be interested in talking to. It seems this South African gentleman has some diamonds that may be of some interest to your friend."
That statement got Batman's attention. He cleared his throat. "Where might my friend happen to meet you?"
He could hear the smile on the other end of the phone. She told him, "Across the street from Number 24 Kingston Square. Would your friend know where that is?"
"I believe it's in the part of the city that is called University Village," he replied.
"Marvelous! I hope your 'friend' can join me."
The phone clicked.
"Something of interest, sir?" Alfred asked.
"You might say that," Batman answered. "I'll be going out, Alfred."
"Very good, sir."
***
It was a dark night in Gotham as the Batmobile quietly pulled up in the alley across the street from Number 24 Kingston Square. Batman got out of the vehicle.
A short distance away, a beautiful woman in black with long red hair stood in front of him.
"You are ..." he started.
"Black Widow," she answered holding up her hand. "I understand you don't like it when interlopers come into your city. But I've been following an international case that has led me here."
Batman led the way toward the side of the building across the street from the address she gave. He wanted to eyeball the target. The two costumed figures knelt low behind some bushes.
"What case was that?" he whispered to her.
"Some time ago in Amsterdam there was a murder. The murderer was a well- known diamond cutter by the name of ..."
"Isak Droot," he finished.
There was a look of surprise on Black Widow's face. "You are good," she told him.
Batman kept his eyes on the building across the street.
Black Widow continued, "While following this Droot, I found he had a great deal of contact with another gentleman by the name of Jon Daley. A South African."
"Yes, I've been checking into his background as well. My research isn't complete, yet," Batman explained.
"Did you know he was former mercenary soldier?"
A light bulb turned on in the Caped Crusader's head.
"Interesting. Good with a gun, I presume?"
"Very," she said.
Batman remembered the night in the alley when Growdy was struck down by an unknown sniper.
"Want to check this building out?" Batman asked the woman.
"I thought you'd never ask," she smiled.
***
Number 24 was an old house, boarded and dilapidated, that looked entirely unoccupied. The Gotham Avenger and the Black Widow moved through a passage beside the building.
They noted a basement grating that looked loose. Working on it, Batman pried the grating away. Two shapes shrouded in darkness, they slid through and crept into the cellar, picking their path by the guarded beam of a tiny flashlight.
Batman turned off the flashlight when he saw a light ahead. The glow came from the bottom of a closed door. Approaching, The Masked Manhunter and the remarkable woman found the door locked, but he worked deftly and silently with a tiny lockpick that he obtained from his utility belt.
Under Batman's probing skill, the lock yielded. The Caped Crusader inched the door inward.
He saw a squalid room, furnished with a cot, a table, and a workbench. On view were the special tools used by diamond cutters, with machines for grinding and polishing. The delicate equipment proved the place to be the hideout of Isak Droot, but the man himself was absent. Seeing a door at the front of the room, Batman, with Black Widow behind him, moved across to it.
At guttural sounds from the other side, Batman wheeled away, just as the door came sweeping inward. Two men launched into the room. One was Droot, scrawny but agile, his withery face lifted. The other was Daley, who had arrived and pushed his way in through the front.
Droot must have heard Daley's entrance and gone to meet him. Daley was as violent as Droot, and was brandishing a gun to offset the hammer that the other man waved. They were shouting at each other in Dutch, but most of their words were oaths peculiar to the language. Though Batman knew the tongue, he caught but little from their argument.
Then Batman was interrupting in a language that all could understand: his fists. The two fighters swung and drove for him. Whether the emergency had united them, The Dark Knight did not wait to learn. He met them with swinging feet and hands that clubbed the hammer from Droot, the revolver from Daley.
It was Droot who managed a twist in the direction of the room's front door. As Black Widow downed Daley with the swing of her foot, Droot scooped up the lost revolver and dashed away with it. There was murder in the fellow's yells. Evidently Droot was going berserk, as he had in Amsterdam.
Batman went after Droot. Catching up to the older man, The Masked Manhunter swung the murderer around by the shoulder and slugged him in the face with a quick jab. Droot dropped to the ground unconscious.
Turning back to the room, Batman quickly saw that the Black Widow had things well in hand. Daley may had been a mercenary but he was no match for the fighting prowess of a woman of extraordinary talents and experience.
Batman spoke in the air. "O? Two to be picked up by the police at 24 Kingston Square. You can tell Bullock that it's Daley and Droot."
"Roger, boss," came the reply in his ear.
"I see you have hidden helpers," Black Widow remarked. "I met two of them when we rescued your friend Bruce Wayne from some clown and his girlfriend."
He only nodded.
Batman grabbed Daley by the lapels of his jacket and lifted his face toward him. "Where's the jewels?" Batman growled.
Daley laughed at him. "That's what I came here to find out, too, you costumed freak!" he spat.
"What do you mean?"
"Droot was supposed to be holding the Durban Diamond," the South African explained. "I've known him for a long time. He was supposed to get the Durban to cut from that Penguin chap. We were going to take it and run ... split the profits. He does the cutting, and I have the contacts to sell it."
"But?" Batman asked.
"He don't have it!" Daley cried out. "He don't have it! We don't know what happened."
Batman threw Daley back down to the floor. The Penguin was double-crossing Regal and all his minions. That plot failed. The Penguin was supposedly being double-crossed by Daley and Droot. Now that apparently failed. So where were fifteen million in diamonds? Who had them?
Men were coming through the front. Bullock had arrived, with a few members of his squad. They caught Droot in the glare of their flashlights. He was quickly handcuffed.
Batman did not wait to talk to Bullock. He was a capable detective, he knew what would have to be done, here.
Grabbing the hand of the Black Widow, the two costumed vigilantes glided back along the darkened hall to the rear of the building. Again, Batman was in darkness, when the police reached Droot's room and took Daley into custody. Past the rear door, The Masked Manhunter and the remarkable Russian woman watched while the detectives searched for diamonds and found none. Meanwhile, Bullock was shaking Daley back to his senses, demanding to know what he knew about the missing millions.
The South African would probably relate the same story to the detective.
Moving out to the open grating with Black Widow, Batman thought about how his race to this hideaway had not worked out as he had hoped. The Caped Crusader with the help of Black Widow had handled matters, so far as Daley and Droot were concerned, but the diamonds were still missing.
This case had run into so many dead ends. Beginning with Whitey; following with Ape Bundy, Stephen Helk and Bob Holbert; even in such cases as Wallingham, Rendy, and Growdy -- the crime ring had been dropping excess weight, losing small-fry members who could have talked too much.
Much of that had been planned by the brain behind the game. Of which Daley was one.
Nevertheless, Batman had cracked the case wide open, by proving that Curly Regal was not the big-shot that the law supposed. The Penguin, gentleman crook who managed the actual robberies, had been working for some hidden brain -- not for Curly Regal.
Batman had to keep going while the trail was hot, otherwise fifteen million in diamonds might leave Gotham City and soon.
Once again, the two costumed figures found themselves across the street from the building of which now the police occupied.
"Need a ride someplace?" Batman asked the Black Widow.
She shook her head and smiled. "Thank you for letting me help you. Maybe we'll get together again sometime in the future."
Under other circumstances, he would had liked to think about that possibility in his mind. But there was one thing that kept him from thinking in that manner and her name was ... Selina.
***
A few hours later at police headquarters, Jon Daley was glowering from a corner in an interrogation room at Commissioner Gordon. No longer bland, Daley became stubborn at Gordon's questioning. The commissioner was still at it when others appeared.
One arrival was Judith Trexel. Seeing the girl, Harvey Bullock realized that she must be the double who had played the part of Cynthia Crawford. Bullock waited to hear the girl's story before arresting her.
Judith told it, not only to Gordon and Bullock but to Clendon and a few of the association jewelers, the persons who had suffered the actual losses through robbery. The girl's story carried the ring of conviction. It was accepted without question.
Pointing to Daley, Gordon queried: "Did you ever see this man, Miss Trexel?"
"I don't think so," replied Judith. "He might have been at the diamond show the first night --"
"But did The Penguin mention him? Did he speak of a man named Jon Daley?
Judith shook her bead. Daley gave a smirk and settled back in his chair. He wasn't groggy any longer, but he pretended to be when Gordon began to ply him with new questions.
Daley's silence produced a conference between those involved. Finishing with a nod, Clendon turned to Gordon.
"We can link Daley with Droot," declared Clendon, "by referring to some trade-journal reports of a few months ago. I think that Daley made statements which appeared in print."
"Where are the journals?" queried Gordon. "At your office?"
"Yes," replied Clendon, "and I believe they may contain some other data. Some correspondence from the South African diamond syndicate."
The commissioner nodded and sent Clendon to get the information.
Gordon returned to the interrogation room and glared at Daley. "Behind your crimes lay a double motive," declared Gordon. "Not only did you count upon disposing of the stolen diamonds. You knew that their loss would force new purchases of the uncut product. As a member of the diamond syndicate, you could realize huge commissions, while keeping the stolen goods for the future."
Bullock thrust himself into the discussion. He punctuated Gordon's remark with the demand: "Where have you got the diamonds, Daley?"
"Listen, you doughnut eating flatfoot, I told you twenty times, I ... don't ... know," came the reply.
***
Clendon had found the old trade-journal reports. They proved conclusively that Daley had checked on Droot and found that the wanted diamond cutter was actually in Gotham City.
Commissioner Gordon spoke of Daley's double game. He said, "It occurred to me that Daley had sold those those uncut diamonds in the very beginning so that they could be stolen."
The thing linked home to Gordon. It made the proof complete. Turning to the group, the commissioner gave his summary. "Bringing those uncut diamonds was the first step in Daley's game," announced Gordon. "He needed a man to handle huge robberies, so he picked The Penguin. He gave The Penguin another duty: to frame Curly Regal and make him look like the brain. For the first robbery, The Penguin planted White at The Riddler's house, and Curly sent Ape Bundy to stage the robbery --"
"Which failed," croaked Daley. "Don't forget that, commissioner."
"It was supposed to fail!" exclaimed Gordon, who was in his finest form. "So that Curly Regal would be forced into hiding. It must have been The Penguin who called the Templeton Club and gave the tip-off. The real robberies followed. Very probably" -- for once, the commissioner was playing a hunch -- "The Penguin told Curly that the diamonds were going to Droot, for cutting. Only, The Penguin placed them somewhere else. With you, Daley. We know the rest. How The Penguin, in trouble, tried to send Curly off along a false trail. The question is: where are the diamonds? I can answer that. They are where you put them, Daley!"
Again, Daley grinned. "But how did I get them?" he queried. "Can you answer that, commissioner?"
Gordon stopped. He couldn't answer the question. It was still a mystery.
Daley looked about, saw accusing eyes. He licked his lips again, then said: "I'll talk."
But when Daley talked, he didn't tell the things that the listeners wanted to hear. "I knew that Droot was in Gotham," he said. "I was responsible, and I had to find the fellow. It struck me that he was the very man that the crooks would use as a diamond cutter. Tonight, for the first time, I heard where Droot was. I went to see him first. I knew that he would go berserk, and kill, to avoid capture. But I was willing to risk a lone visit, because Droot knew me. I felt, too, that if I turned him over, it would square me for letting him get loose. I'm sharp, but not crooked. You can't prove anything against me. You'll drive me crazy, asking me where the diamonds are, but it won't do you any good. I don't have them. You've heard my story -- make the most of it."
Direct though the statement was, it made no impression on Gordon. The commissioner told Bullock to take Daley away.
"Wait," the commissioner called out. He wasn't finished with the questioning. "Who killed White?"
Daley blinked, actually surprised. It was Gordon who gave answer, a bit irritably. "There was a fight downstairs, remember? That's when White was killed."
"White was murdered beforehand," was the calm-toned reply. "Grant me that, commissioner, on the basis that every crook who knew too much has been eliminated during this run of crime. Even Ape Bundy was eliminated."
"By The Penguin's tip-off!" exclaimed Gordon. " I said that the robbery was supposed to fail. I have it! The Penguin murdered White! Our brain here" -- he gestured toward Daley -- "is supposed to have framed Curly Regal, through The Penguin. We are agreed upon that point, but a brain should have also foreseen that the frame-up might not work. Besides, it didn't quite cover the matter of The Penguin. We must regard The Penguin as a double-crosser, and no super-criminal would trust a tool of that sort. The brain was quite ready in case things went wrong. He had another man upon whom crime could be pinned, should the Curly frame-up be uncovered. But who?"
***
As the police and others were wracking their minds at Gotham Police headquarters trying to figure out who double-crossed who -- Batman was in the Batcave going over some computer files. His great mind also held many of the same questions that were being asked some fourteen miles away.
As she often did, Selina Kyle came into the Operations Center of the cave, wearing an extremely short robe, and drying her beautiful mane of dark hair. She had just got out of the shower and came down to see if she could entice Bruce to forgo any climbing of rooftops this evening.
Without even looking at her, Batman could tell what she had on her mind by the sudden perfume smell in the air. "Selina, how many times have I told you it's best not to come down here practically undressed. What would Alfred think?"
"He's seen me undressed almost as much you have," she replied in a bored tone.
"You expect me to concentrate with you looking like that?"
"I was hoping that you might concentrate on me, yes," she smiled.
He knew he wasn't going to win a banter contest with her -- that was impossible.
"I'm working," he told her.
"You're always working," she said as she worked a finger down his back. "Remember what I've always told you, handsome, all work and no play ... makes a very boring Batman."
"You know," he told her softly, "you're worse here than you were on the rooftops in the past. Now you don't even make a pretense."
"I don't need to," she said sweetly. "I have you wrapped around my little finger."
He growled.
She laughed.
He never looked at her through their conversation. Batman knew that if he did, his concentration would be ruined by her beauty. He kept his eyes on the computer screen, just scrolling.
Suddenly, a picture flashed on the screen. A man who appeared to be from a foreign land with a beard and hair that was beginning to go gray.
"Who's that?" Selina asked.
"Mushy Nebuchadnezzer," he informed her. "He's a new member of the Gotham Jewelers' Association."
She snickered loudly.
"What?" he asked.
"World's greatest detective," she muttered.
"What?! What are you talking about?"
"Look at that Mushy guy. Or who you think is Mushy. Your brain must be mushy."
"Selina?! What are you saying?"
She laughed. "Any jackass can plainly see that's The Riddler!"
"WHAT?! Are you sure?"
"Oh, I'm sure, stud," she said. "I'm as sure as how turned-on you get when you see me in a short dress."
"How do you know that's him? It doesn't look anything like him."
"Look at the eyes, dear. That's him. Any woman can tell a man by his eyes. If I was disguised, do you think you could see me through my eyes, knowing how you're always looking at them when we're making ..."
"Yes!" he exclaimed.
"Do you have his address?" she asked.
Batman's fingers played across the computer keyboard.
"Yes, it's right here," Batman told her. "When I get over there, I'll thrash him brutally."
"No way, boy! His ass is mine!" she demanded. "I found him, I get first crack. I owe him for trying to kill me in that musuem."
"Haven't you beaten him enough for that?" he asked her.
"NO! You don't understand. There's a rogue's code. He broke it. He has to pay. You can pick up the pieces."
"Oh, gee, thanks," he replied.
Selina ran a finger down his chest and circled the Bat emblem on his chest. In a sexy voice she told her champion, "Don't sound so disappointed. Trust me, lover, when I'm done with him, I'll be ready for action with you. All -- Night -- Long."
She kissed his cheek lightly.
Unfortunately for The Riddler, there was no argument.
***
In many ways Gotham was a very fascinating city. What made it quite unique from many major cities was the vast number of high-rise buildings. Gotham, on a whole, was not very large in land area. Built upon three main and several smaller islands that were surrounded by the Gotham River and Gotham Harbor, space was limited. There weren't that many single family homes available.
After the vast amount of industrial and commercial property, building residential property vertically was better than vast tracks of single homes.
Unknown to many of the residents of the city was a world that was occupied by rooftop dwellers. People who could transverse the skyline as well as most commuters moved through the streets of the city. Among those rooftop dwellers was, of course, Batman, and Catwoman.
In the Diamond District of the city was the Prospect Conduminiums. From the seventeenth floor rooftop, a solitary figure in purple lowered herself to a fourteenth floor window.
Catwoman was beautiful, bold, deadly, highly intelligent and an incredible athlete who was an expert in security systems and stealth entry. This entrance was a piece of cake for her.
Entering through a window, she silently dropped to the floor of the apartment. The room was dark but she could see light coming from other rooms in the condo.
Sometime in the past, before she became romantically involved with her Dark Knight, Catwoman enjoyed these kind of unlawful entries and stealing her victims blind -- often while the people were in the apartment! It was the challenge that gave her an artificial high. She was good. No, better than good -- she was the best.
This time it wasn't a challenge. This was personal. This time someone was going to be taught a lesson. The one to be taught was ...
"Eddie!" she said aloud.
The man whose back was turned to her, packing a suitcase on his couch, jumped at the sound of the woman's voice. He turned to face Catwoman quickly.
"Uh, who are you?!" he said in a phony inflected accent. "How'd you get in here?"
"That isn't important, Eddie," she said. "What you need to know is that your game is over."
"What game?" the man said. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yeah? Who do you think you're dealing with, here, Riddler? Harley?"
The man started to walk backward as she slowly approached him.
Catwoman bared her claws. "There's an easy way to see what's behind those whiskers you have on your face, Eddie."
He kept backing away from her.
"I have a score to settle with you," she told him. "You tried to kill me in that musuem. What were you thinking, Eddie? You were going to kill me? A longtime friend?"
"I ... I ..."
"Oh, so you do know what I'm talking about, hmmm?" she teased. She kept getting closer to him.
Suddenly, tired of running, the man who had claimed to be Mushy Nebuchadnezzer stopped and his demeaner seemed to change before Catwoman's eyes.
"Hey! Why not, Selina?! You've gone over to the other side," he said. "You've taken up with Bruce Wayne and at night you cavort with Batman!"
The first punch, a left hook to The Riddler's face, was accompanied by the word: "Who."
"I," was delivered with a right jab to the chin.
A kick to the body was sent with "Choose to be with."
The Riddler was sent sprawling to the floor in pain.
Catwoman grabbed The Riddler by the hair forcibly and pulled his head back. In a menacing tone that only she could deliver, the former Princess of Plunder added, "Is none of your business."
With her retractable razor-sharp claws, she began to peel away the false beard that The Riddler had on his face. She had no interest in being careful while doing it and several cuts and nicks adorned her former friend's face.
From behind, another voice was heard in the room. The voice was very familiar to Catwoman and the Prince of Puzzlers.
"That's enough, Catwoman," Batman declared.
The Riddler giggled. "You heard your boyfriend," he said with sarcasm.
He was rewarded with another punch to the face.
Catwoman threw The Riddler down as though she were throwing out a bag of dirty trash into garbage can.
Her voice dripped with venom when she said to her lover, "He's all yours."
Batman picked The Riddler up by his lapels and put his nose up against his longtime adversary's nose. "You're the brain, Riddler. But guess what? It's over. You've lost again. Where's the jewels?"
Catwoman began looking around the room. Who was better qualified to sniff out where fifteen million in gems were? Her eyes locked on a satchel made of alligator leather.
During the robbery at the Hotel Gotham, The Penguin had apparently left the real satchel containing the jewels in a curtain, where The Riddler had picked it up!
To everyone's earlier query, Batman knew who had murdered White. "You killed White, Riddler!" Batman said. "You murdered White because his dirty work was done and you didn't need him any longer. You didn't want him to lead the police to The Penguin! If the police had grabbed The Penguin, no one would've been able to steal the diamonds."
Catwoman opened the satchel. All the stolen diamonds were in it. She pulled out the Durban Diamond and held it her hand, admiring it. Her mind was clicking. She looked at Batman and then back to the huge gem that was worth a fortune, With a wistful sigh, she placed it back in the satchel.
In her head, she could her the voice of Bruce Wayne: "You don't have to steal, Selina. I can buy whatever you want."
Well, having a billionaire for a boyfriend does have it's benefits, she thought.
She said to the Caped Crusader, "Here's the loot, tall, dark and broody. Case closed. I'm outta here."
Looking to The Riddler, she said in an icy tone, "It's been fun, Eddie. Say hi to the gang in Arkham for me."
***
It was about ninety minutes later when Bruce Wayne arrived back to his master bedroom in Wayne Manor. The bathroom door was ajar and the shower was running. He quietly undressed and entered the huge shower stall.
Underneath the water, with her back to him, was the incredible Selina Kyle. The beads of water glistening from her body were a sight to behold to any man.
Bruce wrapped his arms around her and pressed his body against her magnificent form as he kissed the back of her neck.
"Mmmmm," was the response that he received in return.
His hands found two warm globes that he loved to touch.
"I have to thank you," he told Selina, "for helping me."
Squirming underneath his touch, Selina, responded, "Ahhh, I'm sure you'll, mmmm, return the favor."
"That's why I'm here," he teased.
-- Finis --