Chapter 3
On this crisp November night, atop the roof of the 41st precinct of the Gotham Police Department, a lone figure clasps his jacket together with a clenched fist and holds a steaming cup of coffee below his face, letting the steam rise to bathe his cheeks and nose with warmth. He glances at the clock tower 2 blocks away, and notes that his shift ended over an hour ago. He flicks the switch that controls the high wattage Klieg light with the symbol of a black bat painted over its glass cover. The hum of the bulb fades as the light flickers out and the man stumbles his way to the stairwell in the dark.
"Waiting for someone, Captain?" The voice is without a body, but the police officer knows to whom it belongs.
"Sure as hell took you long enough" grumbles the cold officer. "Haven't seen you in a while. I'd ask if everything is alright, but you don't look like the talkative type." Jim Gordon was one of the few honest cops left in Gotham when approached by Batman to form an alliance to clean up the corrupted city. With the shake up of the underground, many a corrupt officer was caught on the take in some form or other, allowing a good cop like Gordon the opportunity to rise through the ranks more quickly as those above him take early retirement in Gotham Penitentiary.
"I've been working a special case. Rachel Dawes."
"The assistant D.A. that disappeared in The Narrows last spring. I couldn't get a forensics team to go near that place."
Batman hands a file to Gordon, nondescript in packaging; it merely has two words as its label, Rachel Dawes. "That's a complete forensics work-up from the area where she disappeared. I don't expect it will be admissible in court without expert analysis, so you'd better have the Gotham University Forensic Science Department confirm the findings. My reputation among the Gotham Circuit Court is not highly respectable."
"Can't imagine why, eyewitness to hundreds of cases but won't testify, questionable apprehending technique, and forensic analysis equipment that far surpasses anything the city has at its disposal." Though his words don't give it away, Gordon is impressed by what this masked vigilante provides him time and time again.
"Any word on this joker that leaves playing cards at the scene of his crimes? Sorry, pet name I've come up with for him. You know the guy."
"He's gone underground since the robbery at D/C pharmaceuticals. I'm still tracking his movements, but a pattern hasn't emerged yet. That reminds me, you'd better tell your Narcotics unit to be on the lookout for this." Batman tosses a bag with a used syringe in it, one that bears the label 'blis/z'.
"What is it?" Gordon picks up the bag and looks it over.
"New designer drug called 'blis/z', I ran a trace analysis and found elements of ecstasy and liquefied nitrous oxide, laughing gas."
"Liquefied laughing gas, what will they think of next? We'll check with Metropolis and Central City to see if it's rolled out to the streets there yet." The evidence in his hands overwhelms Gordon. He isn't sure where to start.
"By the way, congratulations on the promotion, Captain."
"Thanks. I don't suppose one of these nights I could get you to meet me inside the building…." But when he looks up, The Batman is gone, the way all of their conversations end.