DC Infinity Presents
Batgirl #36
Over the Edge Part 2
The Cave
"Adrian Chase," Cassandra said to herself, "he assumed the mantle of Vigilante when his family was killed by criminals he had pro…prose…cuted…prosecuted as DA… District Attorney…"
Cassandra read the file aloud as she reviewed it, mostly for practice. From what she could see, Adrian Chase's career as the Vigilante had been turbulent, to say the least. But a clear picture emerged to Cassandra, of how his costumed career sent his personal life spiraling out of control, even after he attempted to retire. Following the loss of his successor, Chase's violence escalated until he killed several police officers, before finally he took his own life.
Cassandra wondered for a moment, if she should respect Adrian for committing suicide. Life was precious, but Cassandra knew better than anyone how all consuming guilt could be.
It wasn't as if her solution with Shiva were all that different, Cassandra knew.
Had he seen the monster he had become, and decide to end it without risking anymore lives? Had he taken the easy way out? Or had he just reached the conclusion that he himself was deserving of the same punishment he had inflicted on others?
Whatever the answer, Cassandra soon realized it didn't much matter. Chase's known associates were either dead, accounted for or women (and Cassandra knew she had fought a man). More than that, in his time Chase had inspired two men to follow in his footsteps, so this could be history repeating itself. And in the world they lived it was entirely possible that Chase himself had returned.
So in all likelihood, Cassandra knew that she wouldn't find any clues of the identity of this new looking into Chase's past. As Batman and Nightwing had taught her, she needed to look at the victim in this, the man the Vigilante had blown up when he couldn't shoot him.
She typed a few commands into her computer, and up came the Gotham City personnel file of one Walter Sanders, the Vigilante's first victim.
According to his records, he had transferred to Gotham from Florida PD eight years ago. Officially he was looking for a change of scenery, but there were notes in the file that alluding to him accepting bribes and a poor work ethic.
Despite what man people believed, Gotham didn't always breed their own corrupt cops, so much as corrupt cops drifted to Gotham, in the belief that their corruption would be tolerated. And sadly, more often than not, due to the high turn-over, and the need for bodies on the street, they were proven right.
Cassandra carefully skimmed through his record, and saw something interesting. He had recently been named as part of a multi-million dollar lawsuit by one Shane Crews. He and Sanders had served on an anti-gang task force, before it was disbanded in a department shakeup (cover-up, even Cass knew that).
Crews had been arrested and convicted six years ago on taking bribes and tipping off suspects prior to raids. But recent evidence had come to light that the evidence against him was tainted and almost certainly planted. By whom was still a matter under investigation, (though no one really expected that to lead anywhere) but the review had completely cleared Crews, who in turn launched and easily won a lawsuit against the department.
As motive for revenge, Cassandra couldn't think of much better. She leaned back in her chair, and contemplated her next move. Crews was either a perpetrator (almost certainly) or a potential victim (stranger things had happened), and as a former cop, he had to know he'd be the first suspect and cover his tracks accordingly.
As she reflected on what next to do, Cassandra reached over to tap in a command to signal Oracle. She had just started typing when she saw how her hand was shaking. She paused to make a fist, forcing the aches of her body, from both her battle with Mr. Myth and her monthly cycle to the far corners of her mind, as she had been trained.
It was a harder battle than it had been in the past, but Cassandra managed, and completed her call to Oracle.
"Morning Cass," Oracle said, casually, "Steel did a fly by last night like you asked. Chase's coffin still contains a body with his DNA, according to his scanners."
"Thank you," Cassandra said, "are you tracking Crews' phone?"
"I am," Oracle said, "plus the secret burner that he's got in that new mansion of his. It may interest you to know that he's got an engagement later, in the city. I don't suppose you'd be up for a little shadowing?"
Cassandra smiled.
oooOOooo
Later
The event was a Charity dinner, followed by chit-chat on the balcony.
Batgirl watched Shane Crews from an adjacent rooftop through binoculars that cost more than the average new car.
Though she could read body language better than anyone on the planet, Batgirl didn't need that skill to read Shane's. He had absolutely no interest in the company of anyone at this event. He had sat through the dinner like a cop on a stake-out, and now that it had broken up into general smoozing and socializing, Crews had claimed a place by the bar and was nursing a whiskey for the last twelve minutes.
Batgirl knew almost immediately that Crews wasn't here for any sense of charity, desire to meet his newfound peers or for the food.
No, he was here to be seen.
Which said quite a bit, in and of itself. It raised Batgirl's suspicions considerably. People who wanted to be seen, who wanted an alibi, were usually people who had something to hide.
But there were exceptions, Batgirl knew. She remembered glancing through Crews medical records from his time at Black Gate. Batman once said that being a cop in prison was a double sentence, and that was true with Shane Crews.
According to his records, he spent a good portion of his initial incarceration in the infirmary. But as time wore on, his visits became less frequent, though the number of incident reports stayed roughly the same.
There were always those criminals who thought they had a shot, even when their entire lives had told them they were duds.
Batgirl studied Crews for a long moment. He was steady, relaxed and casual. If he had any plans to break the law, it wouldn't be tonight.
Given that, Batgirl slipped away, and decided to change her approach.
oooOOooo
The Flaming Flamingo
Victor Babkin smiled to himself as the new shipment of wine was unloaded into the back of his club.
Though the men doing the unloading didn't know it, half the weight of the crates were illegal arms, smuggled in via an old friend in Sicily.
Ever since he'd broken with his Russian comrades and joined forces with Jacob Thorne, his smuggling business had exploded. Now that he no longer had to worry about dealing with criminals his Russian family had pissed off (and there were oh so many), he was free to branch out with a clean slate.
In Gotham, a smart criminal could get his product through the ports in eight hours, and have it anywhere in America in only twelve hours later. Now that he had new muscle behind him, Victor was staking his claim as gate keeper. He could scarcely believe how much money he was making, now that he didn't have to give his Russian comrades a percentage.
"I want those crates unloaded and inventoried immediately," Victor said to his men, as the delivery truck drove away, "HIVE has expressed an interest in rearming their New York branch, and we need to have the guns before they make another idiot run at the Titans."
"Will do, sir," his men replied, with no hesitation.
Victor breathed a relaxed sigh as he strolled to his car.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so content, so at ease with both himself and the world.
Oh, there was the constant pressure of eluding law enforcement, but without the constant burden of hiding who he was, that was nothing. And there was, of course, sneers and whispers behind his back.
But so long as they paid in cash, Victor didn't much care. Wealth beat petty revenge any day of the week. And being irreplaceable made him a wealthy man indeed.
"I'm sorry, sir."
Victor spun around, and found himself facing down the barrel of a handgun, and a man with a V shaped mask and blue uniform.
Victor's hand went for his gun, but the matter was settled with one pull of the trigger.
oooOOooo
Elsewhere
Detective Peter Akins hesitated for a moment, before he rapped on the door.
"Jerry, you in there?"
"Who wants to know?"
"We were in the same station for three years man, you should recognize this voice by now," Peter replied, "care to open up?"
"And if I don't?"
Peter clenched his teeth. Going through the motions like this was always annoying, "Then I drag your ass down to the station and we talk there. But when we do that, our True Blue family frays even more."
Peter heard a bitter chuckle, but the door opened all the same.
"Not much a Blue family in Gotham," said Jerry. He motioned for Peter to step inside, "not unless they need something, which I assume you do?"
"Walter Sanders went up like a roman candle yesterday," said Peter, "but I imagine that you already knew that."
"Couldn't happen to a nicer guy," Jerry said, "I sure hope you're not here to ask me to donate to his memorial fund. I don't need him to have a fancy tombstone when I piss on it"
"Care to tell me where you were last night?" Peter said, "witnesses saw a…masked man about your build near the area. Any thoughts?"
"That that's a smooth bluff," Jerry sneered, "I was with my doctor, I'll give you the name, but what I won't give you is an excuse to take a run at my partner."
"Ex partner," Peter said.
"Partner," Jerry said through clenched teeth, "I know you guys are too chicken shit to go after him yourself, even though protocol demands it. Even with all his millions, if he was some polite pushover like Bruce Wayne, you idiots would have him in interrogation in a blink."
"Crews has already cost the city millions," Peter said, "don't worry, we're not going to take another shot at your ex-partner until we're absolutely certain we got the right guy."
"Partner," Jerry corrected, "and if you idiots had done that the first time, we wouldn't be here."
"We…us," Peter clicked his tongue, "tell me, aren't you part of 'us'. Crews is your ex-partner…"
"Partner."
"…but your testimony was part of what helped convict him in the first place."
Peter had known his words would strike a nerve, but he never expected them to hit Jerry with such force. The older officer's face was flush red and Peter could actually see a vein throbbing at the top of the man's receding hairline.
"Detective."
Jerry moved with cat-like speed, grabbing Detective Atkins by the neck, and slamming him against the door.
"Bastards like you made it clear I wouldn't live long if I told the truth. It took me years to build up the courage," Jerry's voice was calm, even and precise, and in other circumstances might have hidden the burning rage swelling in Jerry's chest, "I don't care about the consequences now. Any other questions?"
Atkins couldn't reply, he could barely breathe.
But Jerry wasn't so far gone that he couldn't feel the metal pressed against his kidney.
Jerry released the Detective, and took several steps back.
Gun still leveled, Detective Atkins cleared his throat.
"Move an inch towards me, and I follow my training," Atkins said, his voice controlled, "I can see I'm not getting anywhere with you, fine. But don't think for a minute that because Crews was innocent then, that he can't be guilty now."
"I stopped caring about what you bastards thought about my partner a long time ago, Detective," Jerry said, "now get the hell out of my apartment, and don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out."
oooOOooo
Later
Shane Crews felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, as he entered his new mansion. He flicked the light switch, and felt a tremor down his spine Old instincts that had saved his live countless times flared to life.
"Hello?" said Crews, not really expecting much of an answer.
His mansion was deliberately Spartan, so Crews simply cast his eyes towards the living room, where the shadows were the thickest.
"You might as well come out. I was a cop in Black Gate. I've already survived my worse nightmare, so hiding in the shadows won't impress me."
Batgirl stepped into the foyer, illuminated by moonlight through the mansion windows.
"Why did you want to be seen today?" said Batgirl.
"Is there something wrong with being seen?" Crews said, his body language defensive, "I've been falsely accused enough times. I've found that having an alibi is always handy."
"Did you have anything to do with Walter Sander's death?"
Batgirl watched as Crews' body became engulfed in a rage unlike almost anything she'd ever seen before.
"I just wish I could have split his skull with my bare hands," Crews snarled.
Batgirl didn't need to be able to read body language to see the truth of that statement.
"Is that all?" Crews said, "because if it is, you can get the hell out of my house."
"I'll leave," Batgirl said, "but remember, Gotham is under my protection. And I will be watching."
Shane was shaking with barely controlled rage, and Batgirl knew just how to push him over the edge. Just under her breath, barely loud enough for him to hear, she whispered a single word.
"Criminal."
Crews' right hand became a blur, and as soon as Batgirl registered it held a knife, the weapon was sweeping towards her throat.
Batgirl stepped back, avoiding a strike that would have ended her life, and gave a passing thought to her tactics. She had sought to provoke Crews simply as a way to take his measure. If he really was the Vigilante, then he would be prepared for a confrontation, ready with answers. In attacking his honor, Batgirl had simply sought to upset his practiced, calm demeanor.
But what she hadn't expected was a lethal attack.
Batgirl was tempted to reply in kind, but she could still feel her injuries, the way her body responded just a split second too slow. And she knew that fight now would resolve nothing, only make everything worse.
That was why, when Crews took a step back after his attack Batgirl decided against throwing a punch.
"Don't ever call me that," Crews hissed.
Batgirl narrowed her eyes at Crews, "Don't ever make it true."
"If you're done breaking and entering, you can leave now," Crews said, "if I ever see you again, I won't miss."
Crew watched as Batgirl stepped back, melting into the shadows of his own home like a wraith. The lights returned the moment she was gone, but Crews stood in his own foyer, blade still in hand.
His rage had rooted him to the spot, the knife in his hand still trembling.
oooOOoo
Batgirl moved silently through the woods to where she'd left her bike.
The entire walk, she fumed internally. She wondered just how off her game she had to be, to allow the situation get away from her like it had. Had she learned anything at all?
"Batgirl, do you still have eyes on Crews?"
Batgirl tapped her radio, "Just left his home. Why?"
"There's been another Vigilantes sighting, less than five minutes ago," Oracle replied, "Victor Babkin was killed."
"Not Crews then," Batgirl clenched her fists, "couldn't be, I saw him approach his home."
"Could mean anything" Oracle said, her voice reassuring. She knew how little patience Batgirl had for mysteries, "he could be innocent, he could have an accomplice, could be any number of things."
"True," Batgirl scowled, "but one thing we do know is that there's a killer out there, and he's even farther away from me now."
Next issue: Batgirl hunts for a killer, but the only clues she has to go on are dead bodies!