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Chapter Three - "Justice denied anywhere diminishes justice everywhere." – Martin Luther King, Jr.
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(Early Friday morning -12:30 AM)

Tiny shafts of moonlight peeking through the cloudy sky lit the Tudor home of Steve Malone. Bruce had parked the Batmobile on a side road next to the property and made his way, carefully and quietly, to the darkened house on foot, staying in the trees that lined the cul-de-sac. He approached the house from the side.

From the trees, he quickly surveyed the unlit house. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something wasn't right. Then, it dawned on him. Outside lights. Other homes on the block had their outside lights on, this house didn't. This house was completely dark, too dark.

He fired his grappling hook toward the roof of the house and it wrapped around the chimney, securing itself. He pulled himself up to the second story and carefully opened a window and he climbed inside.

Damn.

Once inside, he saw that the window he'd opened had been wired to a home security system. A silent alarm. Moments later the telephone rang.

Probably the security company. If no one answers the phone and gives the right code words, they'll send the police. I have maybe five or ten minutes from the last ring.

He took out his flashlight, quickly scanned the room and determined he was in a bedroom. The bed was unmade; a man's sport coat was on it. He went to the door, opened it slightly and listened for any other sounds in the house. The only sound was the ringing telephone.

No one is here.

Then there was silence. The phone had stopped ringing. He closed the bedroom window.

Five minutes. Ten minutes max.

He moved cautiously but deliberately down the hallway to the master bedroom. The bedroom door was open and Batman entered warily. There was a large king size bed centered against the back wall of the room. The bed had not been made.

There were two dresser drawers and a free standing closet in the room. Batman quickly but methodically searched through drawers, finding nothing that caught his attention. He opened the closet, again seeing nothing that seemed out of place.

He opened the night table drawer and saw a small green notebook, lying on top of the other papers. He shook his head as he picked up the book and examined it. The book was a diary of Malone's movements for the last six months. It detailed the activities and personal information of the Secret Star members. It had the name of the woman who sat next to Parker Jones on Tuesdays. At the back of the book, there were four pages of what looked to be random words. Gibberish, or code.

He glanced at the unmade bed. A portion of the top sheet looked like it had been shoved between the mattress and the foundation box spring. He lifted the mattress and saw a rifle, a military sniper rifle. Batman didn't touch it, but instead lowered the mattress back on top of the weapon. He took the small green book and placed it inside his cape.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the flashing red and blue lights of a police car dance across the far wall. He cautiously glanced out the window and saw two police officers get out of a patrol car and approach the house. He hurried back to other bedroom, opened the window and made sure the ground below was clear.

He climbed down the side of the building, retrieved his grappling hook, and was gone before the first officer reached Malone's front door.

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(Friday, 8:45 AM)

"Morning, Betty. Get the Mayor on the line, please."

Betty answered with "Good morning, boss" as Commissioner Gordon walked past her and into his inner office. "Well, you certainly seem to be in a better mood," he heard her say as he closed his office door.

As the door latched shut, Gordon came up abruptly. Seated in the chair behind his desk was Batman. Gordon gave a wry smile and tossed his briefcase and coat on to the sofa against the side wall. I have got to stop leaving the window unlocked.

Batman stood and moved next to the window, allowing Gordon to sit in his own chair. Gordon loosened his tie, tapped the switch on his intercom and said, "Betty, never mind calling the Mayor." He pulled out his pipe and started to fill it when he noticed Batman's glare. He laughed and put his pipe down on the desk. Did Batman just smile?

"I take it you found the rifle that killed Parker Jones at Malone's house last night," Batman said.

"We found a rifle last night…this morning, but we don't have the ballistics back yet." Gordon stood up. "Wait a minute," he snapped. "How do you know about the rifle?"

"I think you'll find that Jones was killed with that rifle. Have you picked up Malone yet?"

Gordon eyed Batman suspiciously, "We've been picking up pieces of him all morning. Mister Malone and his car blew up last night. Looks like a bomb in the ignition. Funny thing, we got two calls from a security company last night saying one of their customers had a silent alarm go off in their home. Turns out the customer was Malone."

Gordon looked for a change of expression in Batman's face. There was none. He continued, "The first alarm went off about two hours before the second one. The company called the house after the first alarm and someone answered and gave the right code words and then reset the alarm. No one answered when the alarm was set off the second time."

"You don't say," Batman said flatly. He reached into his cape and pulled out a small green notebook. "Here. Take this."

He placed the notebook on Gordon's desk.

"Don't touch it without gloves," Batman cautioned.

Gordon opened the center drawer of his desk and took out a mechanical pencil. Making sure the pencil lead was fully retracted; he used the point of the pencil to lift some of the pages so he could verify that the pages contained writing. He looked angrily at Batman. "Where did you get this?"

"Same place you found the rifle," Batman answered.

Gordon raised his voice. "This is evidence. You know that. You have removed evidence from a potential crime scene." Again.

Batman's voice was low and calm, "I told you I would look into the Secret Star and I did. You don't need this book to make the case that Malone killed Parker Jones. The ballistics should do that for you and I suspect you'll find Malone's fingerprints on the weapon. But I wouldn't look on the outside of the rifle for his prints. You almost certainly won't find them there. Check the receiver group and barrel of the rifle. He would have touched it in those places when cleaning it."

"My people know how to do their jobs," Gordon replied.

Batman looked out the window as he said, "You need this book to prove Roger Wood killed Malone."

Gordon's jaw dropped as Batman gave him a 'Gotcha' look. What the hell?

Batman continued, "This book shows that Wood and Malone knew each other. If you're lucky you might even find Wood's fingerprints on the book. Wood knew the name of the woman who sat with Jones the night he was killed."

"How do you know that?" Gordon asked. Why am I asking when I know what he's going to say?

Batman shook his head. "I asked and he volunteered the information. Her name wasn't released to the public, so he could have only known that if he read it in this book or Malone told him.

"The last four pages of the book were written in a simple code, a code designed to be cracked easily. My guess is Wood didn't know about the code, and planted the book and the rifle where it would be easily found by the police, thinking that all the evidence would point to Malone as the only killer. What Wood didn't know was that Malone had written in code that he knew Wood and how they'd planned the murders together. It was Malone's insurance policy just in case Wood double crossed him. Wood was an auto mechanic before he went into retail sales. He would have had little difficulty in wiring a bomb to the ignition of Malone's car."

Batman opened the window behind Gordon's desk and stepped out on the ledge.

"Malone was proud of how he stalked the members of the Star, but he didn't know that Wood was stalking him. How you make your case about Wood killing Malone is your business," he said looking back at Gordon. "But I would pick him up pretty quickly if I were you."

Batman fired a grappling hook in the direction of a building across the street. He looked back at Gordon. "Jim, Gotham will always need a protector. You need to trust that I will make sure it always has one."

With that, Batman launched himself across the street and disappeared into the skyline of the city.

Gordon closed the window after Batman left. He looked out on the city below for a moment, before he finally sat down in his chair. He sighed loudly. Shaking his head, he flipped the intercom switch.

"Betty, get me the Mayor on the phone and tell detectives Bullock and Montoya I want to see them in ten minutes. We've got an arrest to make."

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(The Batcave)

He'd taken off the cape and cowl and sat slumped in front of his computer console. His hands were in his lap. His head was lowered.

"Are you feeling all right, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked. He'd set the tea service down on the computer console and poured a cup of tea, offering it to Bruce.

Bruce shook his head and indicated with his hand that Alfred should set the cup down. Alfred did so.

Bruce smiled to himself. He had not heard Alfred come in, had not heard the clock door open. He'd shut the world out until Alfred disturbed him, not that Alfred ever really disturbed him. But then again, he would have always shut the world out if it wasn't for Alfred.

Bruce closed his eyes again. "I'm okay. Just thinking."

He opened his eyes and looked up at the older man. "Why would anyone want to be Batman so badly that they would kill, when Batman tries to avoid killing?"

There was silence for a moment before Alfred said, "Don't forget, Master Bruce, that there were three who did not kill and for those three, Batman gave them justice."

Bruce stood and smiled at Alfred. He took a quick sip of the tea Alfred had poured, put the cup down, turned and headed up the stairs. "You're right, Alfred."

As he reached the clock door, he sighed. "As you always are. You're absolutely right."

END