Chapter 4

A few nights later at the Grant Park Cemetery on the ritzy side of Gotham, Batman was visiting the Wayne graves. It was pitch black and the night was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

The Dark Knight just stood at the foot of his parents' crypts, staring at the Wayne family name on the engraved marble. He didn't come here often. In fact this was the first time in months that he had been here as Batman. Bruce Wayne only visited their graves on the anniversary of their death. But tonight was different; something about the light rain drew him to them. . Batman came to this particular location at times, only to think.

Glancing down, he recalled as he had many times before, the vow that he had made to his beloved parents; the silent promise to avenge their death by combating crime in all forms. His thoughts were suddenly broken as he heard approaching footsteps. He moved away from the Wayne graves as fast as possible. After all, he didn't want to provoke suspicion of his secret identity or the double life he so casually lead.

With great haste, a rather large figure shuffled through the tall grass and weeds in the cemetery yard toward Batman. It wasn't until the stature got close enough that the Dark Knight realized it was Lieutenant Harvey Bullock of the GCPD. The man was short of breath as he confronted Batman who stood as grim as possible like a gothic statue of Gotham architecture.

"Nice night huh, Bats?" the detective spoke, pulling a fresh cigar from his coat pocket. "I was in the neighborhood and noticed a couple of blocks back that your car was in the alley. It's quite hard to miss a car like that. I figured you'd be around here somewhere and where else would a psycho go on a damp night but a cemetery?" he laughed through puffs of smoke. "I thought it might it be a good opportunity to fill you in on some business."

"You've found something Detective?" the Dark Knight asked in a somber tone.

"Yeah Bats, I been following this lead I picked up on an anonymous tip. I think I got 'em; the Joker that is. I've been spying on him for a couple days. It's pretty bad," Bullock informed as he shoved his hands in his coat, letting the cheap cigar dangle freely from his fat lips.

"How bad Bullock? Where is he?"

"Well, you aren't gonna believe this but he's been hiding in the exact spot you looked before; that old place on the north side. The Laff Riot."

"It can't be; that place went up in an explosion," Batman muttered in disbelief, turning the opposite way to think. "It makes since though. He knew that I'd never look back there thinking it was demolished. A few weeks ago I was nearly blasted to kingdom come, investigating his whereabouts before his mass destruction of Gotham Plaza's Clocktower."

"Well Bats, from where I'm standin' the place looks okay, at least from the outside. It was a brick building after all. It looks like any old dive in the slums of this great city. But that's what the tip was about. The tip came about several missing kids. Orphans, and as near as I can figure, he kidnapped 'em. They might be held there."

"My God Bullock. If he's holding innocent children hostage, there is no telling what he'll do. They're in danger," Batman said concerned before Bullock interrupted.

"Again, the Joker ain't the only problem. After the last councilman was killed, we didn't hear from the Riddler for the longest time. The other night, at Stonegate, he bailed out Catwoman. We know it was him 'cause he killed three on-duty cops with that same stuff he used to escape Arkham. It's pretty clear that they are independent from our clown friend, but God knows what they got planned," the overweight cop stated in a worried tone.

"Damn. Well, what about the Mayor? With those two on the loose, we need to keep him protected."

"Don't worry your pointy ears. Mayor Hill's safe. He's been under surveillance since the wave of murders started," Detective Bullock assured, with the dark apparition nodding.

"Well, we must figure out a plan," he soon replied.

"You mean work together. Look Bats, sounds flatterin' but I'd just as soon take this one on my own. We both know that if I had my way, you'd be locked up in Arkham with the rest of 'em. Chances are, you're gonna be in on it anyway," Bullock thought for a moment. "Yeah okay. Bats, have it your way, but just this once," Bullock finally agreed with a huff and long sigh.

The pair conversed in the graveyard for most of the night, attempting to find the best method in bringing down the lunatic clown. They also concentrated a bit on the Riddler and Catwoman. Just before dawn they departed.

The next night around nine o'clock, the same decrepit sedan that drove away from Stonegate Penitentiary, moved up a long driveway and stalled in front of a massive regal mansion. A man and woman garbed in unusual attire - the Riddler and Catwoman – confidently exited the car as they strolled up an elongated stairway towards the immense entrance of the manor house. As the Riddler rang the doorbell, a man quickly answered the door appearing to almost resemble a fatter version of Alfred Pennyworth.

"May I help you Sir? Madam?" the bulging man in the tuxedo asked.

"Ah yes, I am here to see Charlie Vanelli. Where is the ol' chap?" the Riddler asked, wondering inside the large hall with Catwoman by his side.

The butler only departed for a mere two minutes until he returned, following Charles Vanelli down a grand staircase, facing the entrance to the joint. Vanelli, the recent owner of the great establishment, greeted his guests with contempt.

"Nigma, what the hell are you doin' here?" the gangster demanded, cracking his knuckles.

"I come in peace Charlie," the Riddler laughed to himself, spreading his arms joyfully. "I've had a change of heart. That attempt on your life the other night, well… it was a mistake," he continued, making light of the situation. Looking around the great hall, he spotted several men with machine guns, ready to strike at a snap of the fingers. "Well, I see you've had no problem taking over your old man's estate," he laughingly mocked.

At his words, several of the armed men crowded the scene holding both Nigma and Selina Kyle at gunpoint.

"What you want Eddie?" Vanelli asked with folded arms as his gaze trailed to Selina. "Who's the broad?"

"Your questions will be answered in due time my good man. I have come to offer you the Joker, just like you wanted."

"You got that rat with you?" the gangster grew excited, the tension slightly lessening around them.

"Well Charlie, not exactly. See, I think your men need to put down their muscle so we can talk," the green-clad man offered casually pointing to their guns.

With a swish of Vanelli's hand, the gangsters lowered the straps as he wrapped an arm around the Riddler's shoulders, leading him down a short corridor. As Selena began to follow, he stopped, staring at the cat with lustful, arrogant eyes.

"Sorry little kitty, only us big dogs are allowed in. Make yourself at home. There's the ladies' parlor down the hall." With that stated he turned away and disappeared from sight.

Alone, the remaining mobsters vanquished from sight, Catwoman growled angrily to herself, keeping her cool for the big picture. Free to explore the rest of the beautiful property, she took advantage of the opportunity. Sneaking upstairs to see what she could find, she knew the plan the Riddler devised was well on its way. By now, both the men and his goons should be assembled elsewhere.

Relaxing on a handcrafted Italian sofa, direct from Sicily, Nigma and Vanelli chatted about small talk until the use simply ran out. "All right Charles, it's like this," the Riddler began, crossing his ankles under the elaborate coffee table. "My goal to run Gotham into the ground can't go anywhere without the right motivation. That is why I propose this to you and I recommend that you accept my offer…"

"That sounds like a threat; doesn't it boys?" Vanelli responded as his guns cocked their weapons.

"Vanelli, why would I come here a make idle threats? I'm telling you the truth – it's from my heart," he continued, falsifying hurt. "Now, the plan is that I run this organization, this crime family, from now on," the Riddler boldly stated just before one of the goons spoke up.

"Hey, what's the big idea? Boss, I smell a double cross," the hefty man started with a thick Italian accent.

"It's fine, fine," Vanelli assured his guard, not for a second removing his eyes from the Riddler. "Look Nigma. Nobody is taking over my family's empire. I should blow your damn head off just for the thought. You come here and think you can take over; promise me the Joker and then you don't deliver? You got guts pal!" he scoffed irritably.

"Well Charlie you see, I'm afraid you have no choice. I predicted that you would be just as stubborn and pigheaded as your father – please, no offense is offered to the old man – but I knew you would refuse to have a woman in on our little business. Grave mistake. Miss Kyle, Catwoman – I'm sure you've heard of her – is a valuable asset to any cartel," he smugly mentioned, tapping his trademark cane on the plush carpet for redundant effect.

"As fate would have it, I believe you angered the cat and cats are vicious creatures when crossed. I'm sure she's upstairs by now, making herself quite at home, and taking you for everything you've got, I might add," he laughed, rising to his feet slowly as the guns remained programmed to shoot and kill.

"Men hurry, find the stray!" Vanelli immediately yelled as half his men departed while three others stayed, not moving from their positions, each being the one who wanted to take out the infamous Riddler.

"That Joker business was just a ploy to get her upstairs," the evil genius carried on. "There was no need to send up your men. She will easily take care of them, if she isn't long gone. See, by now she has all the evidence against you and your boys that you so carelessly leave lying around as well as every amount of dough and gems you have upstairs. And the trick is," he bellied over in insane laughter as he pulled out small device from his pocket, a beeper, "she just beeped me – she's long gone!"

An awkward tension filled the air as Vanelli whipped around nervously, looking for something but finding nothing.

Pleasure on his face, the Riddler continued, as Vanelli obviously needed reassuring, "See for yourself. There's no doubt in my mind that she scaled a terrace or something and found her way to my car. You know something Charlie; your father was one of the greatest gangsters in all of Gotham…" he sneered. "Someone like you isn't as resourceful as Maroni or Falcone, the Riddler stated, giving mention to two other infamous crime bosses. "Compared to your daddy you are nothing. An amateur, that's why I am taking over," with that, the Riddler quickly dropped two capsules into the floor and the room clouded with the green hazy gas.

As Vanelli reached to strangle his throat, the Riddler quickly jumped out of the way, making a cartwheel to avoid smashing into a guard. He quickly put his gas mask on to avoid the green toxin.

Maniacal laughter filled the room as the three men made it to the entryway of the living area, gasping for air and then collapsing into a pile.

"I knew a stronger dose would pay off," the Riddler said pulling out a cellular telephone. Seconds later, he was on the line with Catwoman.

"It worked like clockwork Miss Kitty. Now we can call the rest of his men tomorrow and let them know that due to his sudden death, I will take over his precious family business." He hung up and replaced the small phone back in his jacket pocket as he began to tour the Vanelli mansion.