Chapter Five
The shift began like any other. Huntress was following Henry around the Lower East Side -- just as she and Dinah had done for the previous four weeks.
There was something different about Henry today, however -- something that Huntress couldn't quite put her finger on. Something that sent her feline senses into overdrive.
Suddenly, it came to her. Resting upon Henry's back was a small dark blue backpack -- something she had never seen him wear prior to this day.
"Huntress to Oracle, do you copy?"
"Oracle, here. Over," came the reply over the comm.
"You said this guy likes to videotape his fires … correct?"
"He had several videotapes of fires-in-progress in his possession, yes," said Oracle. "Whether or not he set them remains to be seen."
"Today, he's wearing a dark blue backpack," said Huntress. "Care to lay odds that there's a camcorder inside?"
Could this be the day? Barbara thought. "I wouldn't rule it out," she said.
Huntress crossed the street and followed Henry into a women's clothing store called Newberry's. A sea of chrome revolving circular garment racks greeted her. Pants, shirts, blouses, and lingerie hung from the racks. Huntress nonchalantly pretended to browse through the racks, keeping an eye -- and nose -- on Henry all the while. She took note of a CO2 fire extinguisher hanging on the wall nearby.
All at once, a blast of warm air hit Huntress's face. Panicking shoppers began running towards the exit. Huntress sniffed the air -- the odor of something burning filled her nostrils. Huntress turned and quickly saw the source of the fire -- several blouses hanging on a rack had been set ablaze, orange and yellow flames leaping into the air.
Huntress grabbed the CO2 fire extinguisher from the wall and with a metahuman leap, jumped on top of the rack where the burning blouses hung and doused the flames with the fire extinguisher. Crisis over.
Huntress looked at Henry. His face contorted with rage, the mild-mannered schoolteacher was gone now.
"GET OUTTA THE WAY!" Henry shouted.
"Hello, Henry," said Huntress. "Or should I say … Stephen?"
"No one's supposed to know about that name!" Henry snapped.
"The Oracle knows."
"Who -- or what -- the fuck is 'The Oracle'?" Henry said with a sneer.
"Right now," said Huntress. "Your worst nightmare." With that, she leaped down and blasted Henry with the fire extinguisher. Henry let out a scream of agony as the ice-cold CO2 touched his bare arms. Huntress blasted him again, pouring it on. With Henry now thoroughly distracted, she swung the fire extinguisher around and cold-cocked him, sending him to the ground … unconscious.
"Huntress to Oracle, do you copy?" said Huntress into her comm.
"Oracle here. Over," came the reply.
"Call Reese," said Huntress. "Tell him we've got our arsonist. Also…" Huntress paused. "Remind him to ask our perp about the name Stephen Clark."
Encrypted Journal Entry -- Barbara Gordon
September 24th
Henry/Stephen confessed to the arsons (It seems that our Huntress has a way of putting a scare into perps). He told the police that he set the fires because "he couldn't do anything else". As a result, he's now been remanded to Arkham Asylum (And into a fireproof cell, naturally).
Guys like Henry scare me. They know they're being followed … they know they're being monitored … yet they commit their crimes anyway. In my opinion, they're some of the most self-absorbed people you'd ever want to meet. It's almost as if the rest of the world didn't exist for them.
In my opinion, this makes people like Henry dangerous … VERY dangerous.
THE END
