Orientating the Board: Investigations

"So this is your first big case!" Thomas said. "Aren't you excited?"

"I don't even know how to go about solving a mystery," Dick said. Sgt. Riordan's files were spread out across the Wayne family dining room table. The printer had run for a good part of the day - and a run to the local Best Buy had to be made to pick up more printer ink. Most were just copies of individual case reports and autopsies but there were some notes made in the margins, presumably made by Kate on the few similarities between particular cases.

He groaned and gazed about the room, glad that he wasn't tackling this alone - and that his new family had decided that they'd pitch in - even if Bruce and Thomas looked just as confused as he was. Martha was laying back with a glass pressed against her temple and Alfred? Alfred just stared down at the files, a sort of grim determination setting his shoulders.

Bruce cocked his head to one side as he considered the case files. Diagnostics had some similarities to detective work. Just that they 'arrested' debilitating conditions rather than criminals. If common things held a common pattern to form a common condition - then it stood to reason that the pattern he was spotting had to be related.

"Hang on. Something just popped out at me." Bruce grabbed a highlighter from his trouser pocket and leaned over the files. He highlighted a random detail that had jumped out at him from the laboratory analysis. All of the cases had oleic acid as one of the components of the substances found surrounding the wound. All of them in traces of varying amounts - easily dismissable.

"Olive oil?" Thomas said incredulously.

"That's what that is?" Dick asked, still confused.

Thomas scratched at his goatee, "Well, yes - and it's strange that there were those traces on all the cases. Also strange that no one thought to look into it."

"I guess they assumed they were all using some sort of olive oil based moisturiser or eating something with olive oil in it?"

"True."

Dick tapped his arm in thought, "Were there any samples taken from the wound itself?"

"No? I don't think so - people really don't pay attention to the wounds on a cadaver sent for a coroner's autopsy."

Dick continued tapping his fingers, "Are there any other compounds that repeat?"

"What are you thinking of Dick?" Bruce asked, concerned.

"Blade cleaning oil."

"Huh?"

"I don't know - I was just thinking that it would be a really funny thing if someone was using olive oil as a metal cleaning product. It's kinda a hunch?" He shrugged.

"Has that ever been a thing?" Bruce turned to Alfred, who had remained quiet the entire time.

"Vinegar and olive oil is a tried and proven stainless steel cleaning method." He mused. "I have no doubts that our ancient brethren knew this too." He leaned over the table and browsed through the laboratory results, "There. Trace amounts of acetic acid found. Unless they dismissed it as salad dressing being spilt on the body." Alfred stood up straight once again, pondering, "Although what really caught my attention is the fact the expressions on the victims faces were all that of surprise."

"Maybe they all knew the killer?" Dick suggested. "Wait…" He lifted an eyebrow at Alfred, "How do you know?"

"We... don't tend to ask what Alfred did in the SIS." Thomas said sheepishly while Bruce grinned at the older English gentleman. "I think we're all a little afraid of asking. Mum might actually know - but then again she's the bravest one of us."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Dick said, rolling his eyes.

Alfred shook his head indulgently. "Anyway, they all appear surprised. They all seem to be involved some way with the Falcones…"

Dick looked up from where he had been going through the cadaver photos. "Hey Alfred, Bruce, there's a weird discolouration on all of their pinkies." He dove back into the pile, "I think the higher up members of the Falcone 'family' had something of an identifier?" Deep within the dregs of the case files was a solitary report from a man who went into witness protection.

This was one of Riordan's cases. She had apparently managed to convince a founding member of the Falcone empire to defect and then no attention whatsoever was paid to the case. Curious.

"Don't you think this is funny?" Dick asked. "K. Riordan got a known founder of the Falcone family to go into witness protection and give up information about how exactly 'the Roman's Empire' worked. And nothing was said about it. Kate didn't even tell me about it."

Thomas picked up the printed document to give it a read. "What's even stranger is the date - see here, Dick?" He quickly underlined the date the report was made. "Late '80s. That's a good couple of years or so before Kate joined the GCPD."

"I think I can help with that," Martha, silent till now spoke up, "Kenneth Riordan. Kate's uncle. Second Riordan cop to have been 'suddenly' transferred out of Bludhaven up into Gotham under the guise of a promotion - first was Kate's dad, Sean." She shook her head, "And the trickle of Riordans serving and protecting Gotham hasn't stopped since."

"You know, I've heard Harvs joke about that once." Bruce interjected, "Bludhaven's loss was Gotham's gain, he said."

"So the K. Riordan here might be Kate's uncle then?" Dick asked in confirmation.

"Yes."

Dick browsed through the information, "Luca Falcone, the late Carmine Falcone's uncle. Officially declared dead, killed by another gang… Who actually turned snitch in order to get out and go on the straight and narrow. His details under witness protection aren't here but, there are some things we can glean. The green discolouration is… probably from the copper rings, that all higher ups wore on their little fingers as an identifier. Strange."

Bruce's eyes lit up. "Well you just put it together, didn't you?"

"Huh?"

"Think about it, Dick! Oleic acid, acetic acid - not exactly a conventional way of cleaning metals. You've basically shown us that the possibility of this being the same person is greater than it being a group of people. Especially combined with the victims all being associated with the Falcones, and fairly high up!"

Dick grinned at his adopted father as something else clicked in his mind. "Carmine was declared dead - here's his death certificate. But," He pulled out the death certificates issued for the recent victims, "See here? The signature on this looks too close to a copy and paste of this one."

-.-.-.-

"Donna, should we really be doing this?" Garth nervously twiddled his thumbs as he crouched behind his friend. "I mean, this isn't exactly a legal thing to do. And we're role models and representatives of our respective countries. And we're minors, Donna."

Donna shushed Garth as she strained to listen into the conversation between Steve Trevor, Katherine Kane, and Lori Lemaris.

"Lady Lori, you know the tridents look bad." She heard Agent Trevor say.

"I know, and I also know that this could be the result of a xenophobic hate crime. Look, we undersea dwellers know that surface dwellers still aren't quite ready to accept us fully - but honestly, I'd speak to Ronal before I escalate it up to His Majesty and the Marine Council. Sometimes, you need a doctor's touch for breaking bad news you see." She sighed, "Isn't this a headache and a half - we're gonna need a press statement."

"Sorry about dragging you into my hometown's mess." Agent Kane winced.

"No worries. We were expecting these things to happen sooner or later - the whole reason I ended up in this spot is because of my years pretending to be human in Met U after all."

Donna's eyes widened, "Did you know that?" She hissed at Garth.

"Well, yeah? It's fairly well known. The Lemarises have always watched the surface. They were supposed to be the ones to alert us when revealing ourselves would be considered a good move. So Lady Lori posed as a human for a while - we didn't just fish her hydration wheelchair out of nowhere."

Their attention turned back to the conversation.

"The case is still slow going. There has been another trident-related murder in Gotham." They heard Agent Kane sigh. "I'll keep you posted."

Garth looked at the twinkle in the teenaged Amazonian princess's eyes. "Oh no Donna. No. Donna Troy, we're not sneaking out to Gotham!"

She looked at him and smirked.


AN: Thanks once again for reading! If you'd like to contact us via tumblr, my handle is eastoniablogs! Reviews appreciated!