Chapter 14

One Year Earlier

Underworld rumors broke one of two ways - complete fabrications or absolute truths. Being in the game for as long as he had gave him the ability to tell the difference, which is why the most recent rumor involving Catwoman's hasty departure from Gotham bothered him. It smelled too true.

Wearing a battered leather jacket and a dirty Gotham Knights baseball cap pulled low, he'd spent the last few weeks surveying her neighborhood. He drank foamy cappuccinos dusted with cinnamon at the cafe she was rumored to frequent. He flipped through damp magazines with curled front covers at the newsstand across the street from her building. At dusk, before he had to return to the cave to get ready to go on patrol, he'd sit in the late model sedan designated for stakeouts and watch her apartment, as the scent of fresh pork carnitas from the taco truck parked around the block filled the streets.

This hadn't been a part of his calculations when he decided to take up the cowl. Predicting the physical damage he could (and did) endure, projecting the financial cost of suits and gear as the years passed, foreseeing the irreparable damage to his personal life - he saw all of that coming and he had accepted it as tradeoffs for his mission. But Selina? Selina blindsided him. There was a clear divide in his crime fighting career - pre-Catwoman, where his relationship to those he chased was black and white; and post-Catwoman, where everything involving her existed in a complicated grey area he couldn't quite understand. It was uncomfortable. And exciting.

Now she was gone. This was all his fault, wasn't it? The roof should never have happened. But it had. Oh, God, it had. If only that siren...

Slipping out of the car just as the streetlights flickered to life, he walked casually around the back of her building. He made sure the coast was clear before shimmying up the fire escape.

Nothing that had happened between them should have happened. Too many lingering touches and hard, fast kisses had passed between them. They hid behind their alter egos and played what amounted to a game of sexual chicken. But it wasn't a game anymore and they both knew it. It had stopped being a game when he found himself fantasizing about her while he was fucking some socialite in the coat closet of yet another party to keep up Bruce Wayne's reputation as a womanizing jackass. It had stopped being a game when he thought about what it would be like to eat brunch with her on a Sunday morning or walk through Gotham Park with her in the spring just as the tulips bloomed. It stopped being a game when he started thinking they could have more together outside the costumes than in them.

Now, as he stood in her empty apartment, he saw the rumors were true. Catwoman - Selina - was gone. She had done what he couldn't and removed herself from the situation.

This was for the best. It had to be. He should be elated, relieved, happy. Instead, he was lonely. And alone.

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Present Day

Andre Jimenez collapsed into his chair, a cold beer in his hand. After an 18-hour day the beer was well deserved. He popped the cap, the scent of hops tickling his nose. A gloved hand came down on the lip of the bottle. He looked up and found himself face to face with The Batman.

"Holy shit." Batman took the beer and set it down on the coffee table. Catwoman lingered by the open window. "You're him."

"Mr. Jimenez," he said.

"I - I don't want any trouble," Andre said, putting his hands out to show they were empty. "I don't have as much as a speeding ticket."

"You work for Sunshine Cleaning," Batman stated, pulling his cape around his body, becoming one with the shadows in the dark apartment.

"Yeah?" he asked, his eyes darting from Batman to Catwoman and back.

"You clean a laboratory located at 534 Spruce Street. Is that correct?"

"Yes?" he asked, confused.

"You were supposed to clean the laboratory facility the night of September 12. The same night there was a break in."

"Look man, I told the cops everything I know. I wasn't even there that night."

"You were out sick," Batman continued. "In the six years since you started working at Sunshine Cleaning, you'd never missed one day of work. Until that day. A little too convenient, don't you think?"

"Like I told the cops, I was si-"

"Don't lie to me," Batman hissed, his face centimeters from the terrified man's.

"Ok! Ok!" Andre sighed as he sat forward in his chair, his face in his hands. "I let a guy take my shift."

"Who?" Catwoman asked.

"Brian Anders. He only worked with us for about four months. I thought he was a good dude, but..."

"But?" Andre looked at him.

"Me and Brian used to talk sports, you know? Says he's got the inside track on a few basketball games. Pay out a 100 to 1. I don't really gamble, but it sounded like a sure thing. And with Christmas coming, I thought I could get the kids somethin' nice with the winnings, you know? Well, wasn't a sure thing. I lost my shirt and couldn't pay up."

"Who'd you owe?" Batman asked.

"Brian's bookie."

"You remember a name?"

"Gerry Pavlov or Pavloski, somethin' like that. Gerry said the only way I could pay off the debt was if I agreed to let Brian take my shift at the lab. I agreed. That was the night of the break in. Brian stuck around for a few more days, did a few more shifts, but then he stopped showing up. Haven't seen him since."

"Did he do a shift at the museum?" Catwoman asked.

"Maybe. I don't know. We rotate crews a lot."

Batman nodded and headed toward the window.

"Wait - I'm not gonna get in trouble, am I?" Andre asked. "I can't lose my job. I've got kids, a wife, my mom lives with us...we're barely getting by as it is." Catwoman froze, her eyes never leaving Batman's cowled face. Batman shook his head.

"Far as I'm concerned, this conversation never happened." Then he was gone.

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Selina gathered her things and tossed them into the open suitcase on the bed.

"This is completely unnecessary. We have several hours of work ahead of us and I'd rather not waste any more time," Batman grumbled as he lurked in a corner.

"Is that your way of telling me to move my ass?" she teased. She didn't expect an answer. "I'd like to brush my teeth before I spend more time scrolling through hacked surveillance footage. Maybe shower. Plus, if I'm not going to get to sleep in this bed, I'm checking out."

There was silence as she continued her task, a task she wasn't sure had much purpose. Why go back to the cave with him? He could leave her here and she'd be free to go after the ruby just as she originally planned. But there was something about this case, something about the strangeness of a fake ruby and a biotoxin that had her interest peaked. She could always leave after they solved the case.

"Do you think Jimenez was telling the truth?" she asked as she zipped her bag closed.

"Yes." He was quiet. Selina knew better. She could read his silences.

"But?" she asked.

"It doesn't fit Red Claw's M.O. If her organization wanted the biotoxin, they wouldn't go through such elaborate steps to get it."

"Maybe they're changing it up."

"Maybe," he said, believing everything but.

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At 10 a.m. he finally found what he was looking for. Footage of a man matching Brian Anders description casually pushing a cart down the hall near the Level 4 biohazard area. The crime itself wasn't on camera. There was no record of anyone accessing the lab during the time of the burglary. Whoever had done this had covered their tracks. Covering tracks wasn't Red Claw's style. He didn't like it.

"I've been going through the files Oracle managed to hack," she said, coming over to his work station. Oracle had been able to get past most of the protections and access the lab's files, but there were still several higher security files she was working to get.

"What have you got?"

"Nothing spectacular. The facility is, from all appearances, a standard germ lab. They work with all the usual suspects - ebola, small pox, hemorrhagic fevers, etc. Passes safety inspections, no problems with containment, no record of any accidents. Yada, yada, yada."

"There's got to be more in the files she hasn't accessed yet."

"If there isn't?"

"There is. Because none of this adds up."

"Are you referring to a specific part of the infuriating puzzle or...?" she joked. Her humor was refreshing.

"If Red Claw was after something like smallpox or hemorrhagic fever, there are facilities across Europe working with these biological agents. There's a facility in Germany that's supposed to be the best in the world and it's 150 kilometers from Red Claw's alleged base of operations. It's a hell of a lot closer than Gotham."

"Anyone ever tell you you're cute for a detective?" she asked playfully.

He punched a few keys on the console to call up Oracle. As he did, the picture of Brian Anders maximized on the screen. Selina jumped to her feet.

"Wait - who is that?"

"Running cross analysis verification, but I believe that's Brian Anders."

"I know him," she said, stunned. "And his name isn't Brian Anders."