"In Other Fiendish Developments, We Find That The Siren Has Secretly Returned To The Hospital. She Creeps Into The Riddler's Vacated Room, Her Plans Uncoiling Like A Deadly Snake!"

"Let's see," she whispered to herself. "What was the first riddle he babbled at me? 'Who's got the tune we'd both like to croon, and obtained their bonanza through religious extravaganza?'"

" Ohhh…think, girl, think! The tune we'd both like to croon? Do the Riddler and I have musical interests in common? No, wait…the tune we'd both like to croon is a fortune!

"And religious extraveganza….an extravaganza… a religious extravaganza is a mass production! So we can shorten that question to 'who obtained a fortune through mass production?'"

"Now, what was that second riddle?" she said, searching her short-term memory. "Something about a place that keeps the same name even though the name of its namesake might change? Well, the most important information in that phrase is that the location is named after someone. But why would that someone change their name? Marriage? Because the namesake is a woman?"

Hearing a noise behind her, the Siren looked up. Doctor Wow halted for a second, a sharp, gleaming scalpel clutched in his hand. The Siren calmly opened her mouth as he hesitantly moved towards her.

That afternoon found Stately Wayne Manor all decked out for the upcoming ceremony. The spacious living room was now filled with Gotham's elite, leaders from society, business and politics. Large television cameras were stationed in front of a small dais to record the proceedings. Barry Brown was also in attendance, broadcasting live reports to his radio listeners.

"Batman and Robin appear nowhere in evidence at the event that their 'heroic efforts' helped bring about. We've long assumed that the police department's convenient reliance on these vigilantes somehow assured the city's protection. But today, the stark face of the doomsday clock stands here in Gotham, unblinking testimony to the folly of placing our faith in these masked 'protectors'."

An anxious Commissioner Gordon hung back against a wall, along with Chief O'Hara, Bruce Wayne, and Dick Grayson.

O'Hara lowered his head. "Beggin' your pardon, sor, but I'm a bit embarrassed to have to go stand up there for this media soidshow."

"Most embarrassing indeed, Chief. This will be a grave black mark on the record of our fine department."

"Commissioner, I want you to know that everyone here at Wayne Manor is as troubled by this as you," Bruce assured Gordon.

"Could I have your attention, everybody?" Aunt Harriet said from the lecturn. "I'd just like to say how delighted we all are to have the Society of Atomic Scientists here at stately Wayne Manor! It is a great privilege to play host to such a splendid organization! Since 1872, these fine gentlemen have been using this lovely clock to make us all aware of the terrible dangers of the arms race."

"Since 1872?" asked Dick.

"Gotham has always been ahead of rest of the nation in its activist concerns, Dick," Bruce whispered back.

Aunt Harriet continued with her presentation. "With every change to our world's military stability, they are there to mark the occasion by moving the hands of the trusty clock farther or nearer to that terrible, final hour of midnight! And so it is now my pleasure to present you with our first speaker. He is a man of distinction, as well as a well-meaning scientist..."

Without warning, the chandelier exploded! The assembled guests screamed and covered their heads to shield themselves from falling glass. The blast sent a number of tiny question mark-shaped canisters flying from the chandelier. Little parachutes unraveled from each, and the objects slowly descended.

"My word!" gasped Alfred.

Bruce turned to Dick. "There's evil afoot! Quickly, to the study!" Maneuvering around the pointing guests, the two raced for the study.

"Men! Stop those question marks!" called out Chief O'Hara. Several uniformed policemen made their way around the spacious room, leaping to grab hold of the sailing question marks.

Meanwhile, several miles out to sea, the Riddler sat facing his River Rat Gang in a rowboat. Although the Riddler was now dressed in his trademark green suit, the leery thugs kept glancing at their boss as they rowed.

"So...you're not the mayor of Gotham City?" Whiskers asked for the third time.

The Riddler looked at him strangely. "Not that I'm aware of. What's the matter with Whiskers?" he asked Whitey. "Did he get into a load of bad cheese?"

The Riddler frowned as he considered the implications. "If my own men have doubts about my sanity, will the rest of the world take my ransom demands seriously?" The River Rats averted their eyes and said nothing.

"What to do, what to do? I know - how about I just fire off a missile, completely at random – just to show that I'm back in the driver's seat. That should get their attention."

Sitting between the River Rats was a newcomer to the group. The Riddler stood up to make an announcement.

"Men, I know how disappointed you are that the Siren and I have had to part ways – due to her unbecoming behavior. But look on the bright side: my plans have changed to include a larger role for you three. And I'd like you all to give a big River Rat welcome to our newest helper...it's none other than our old pal, Mr. Bluebeard!" The River Rats applauded politely for the bearded, eye-patched thug in their midst.

"Mr. Bluebeard, you served me well aboard the Penguin's submarine, and I welcome your expertise to this expedition."

"Yo ho, sir!" Bluebeard replied modestly.

"Batman and Robin just don't stand a chance," the Riddler said, trying to keep from having a giggling fit. "They should be getting the riddles right about now."

"Riddles?" echoed Fang.

"Just a few new ones I left. They'll never solve these. There's too many and we're only a few minutes away from our objective."

Whitey tried to maintain a dignified demeanor for the occasion, but his joy at being so close to the prize couldn't be contained. His stoic exterior crumbled and he succumbed to his rodent nature - a depraved expression of open-mouthed, bucktoothed glee.