It was just after eleven on the east coast; specifically, in Gotham. Batman was just finishing a few more pieces for his arsenal, listening to the police bands. It was Gotham; something was bound to happen. Conveniently, he had just finished up when he heard a lead.
"…ambulance and coroner to the SPCA. Repeat…"
Smiling grimly to himself at the perfect timing, Batman made his way quickly from the cave to the streets of Gotham, out to the SPCA. It was set up on a small plot of land, one rancher house and a half dozen campers sitting on the lot. There were three squad cars already there, and a few police wandering about the area. From the way they were acting, batman suspected they were there more to baby sit the crime scene than to do anything there; they were standing around, sweeping their flashlights through the darkness. It was easy enough to avoid the lazy arcs, and he made his way into the first camper.
Inside, the walls would have been covered in cages of all sizes, meant to hold animals. As it currently was, the cages were thrown around, food and water lying all over. Every cage was empty, as was the rest of the place; all the animals had been taken out. He could find no evidence of animal blood, and the fur he found could easily be considered nothing more than simple shedding. On the floor he found five separate sets of footprints, one much larger than the others. The footprints were made of mud, and he quickly took a sample before slipping out, looking at the other five campers. They were all more or less in the same condition, except that one camper still had two rabbits and a possum left inside. He took photos of the animals, then made his way to the rancher. The police tape was up over the front door; a minor inconvenience only.
Once inside, Batman saw the real reason that the coroner was needed. In the living room were two corpses, and elderly couple. They were both sitting in chairs, shot. The window was broken, glass lying inside; someone had broken into the rancher. There were footprints again in here, the same as one of the others he had already seen in the campers. Looking over the scene thoroughly, Batman noted a few key clues: the couple was not attempting to stand up, and they were shot while they were seated; the man was shot three times, once in the chest and twice in the head; the woman was shot once, in the chest. He traced the path of the bullet, and managed to find the remains of the bullet that had gone through the woman and the chair she sat in. Palming it quickly, he slipped back out, as the ambulance rolled up.
As he was on his way out, he looked down at the ground. In the mud he found a set of tire tracks, tires that would usually be found on a corporate panel truck. Snapping a few more quick photographs, he made his way back off of the lot, to the Bat mobile, and back to the cave. In the few minutes it took to get back to the cave, he mentally went over the clues he had gathered. There were missing animals, except for three. It seemed that the couple, only a few hours dead, were caught unawares; either they were unaware of the thefts, or they were killed beforehand.
Once he returned, he scanned the bullet and managed to get into the Gotham ballistics records. While he waited for the computer to come up with a positive match, he started to examine the mud sample. It didn't take very long for him to get the basic components, and he found an unusual abundance of nitrates, usually found in fertilizer. Whoever was there, either trampled through a freshly-landscaped garden, or was from one. It was a place to start.
It was still early that night, and he once again went out into Gotham darkness. There were many hours left, many hours for the assorted scum to be causing trouble in his city. While he waited for the results on the ballistics search, there was no reason for him not to go back out and crack a few more skulls.