Chapter Six

Yin was definitely ready to talk as she and the Riddler got into her car, but her opening subject was not what the Riddler had expected.

"You know, you acted awfully familiar with Wayne, considering you've only seen him two or three times," she remarked.

He froze. He had expected she would pick up on it, but he had assumed she wouldn't think anything of it, since it was one of his usual approaches with many people. "Oh? Does that concern you, Yinsey?" he purred. "Don't tell me you're jealous."

Yin rolled her eyes. "Riddler . . ." After quickly considering all possible responses to that unexpected comment, she decided on, "No, but who knows what he'll think."

"Probably nothing." He mentally kicked himself for his slip with Wayne. Hugo Strange had told him that he had an uncontrollable compulsion to leave riddles and cryptic remarks everywhere, to assert over and over that he was telling the truth. It was a scar left over from the beating his father had given him when the man hadn't believed he was telling the truth. It didn't make him crazy, but it did mean he had a serious problem. And he honestly didn't want to reveal Bruce Wayne's secret at the moment.

Although when he thought of it, he didn't really like keeping it from Yin. She was coming to trust him, and that was quite a big secret he was holding back. If she ever learned that he knew and didn't tell, he didn't like to think that it might erase her trust in him.

"Anyway," he said at last, "I don't think I said anything stranger than some of the things I said to you on our first meeting."

"I guess not." She sighed. "But speaking of our first meeting, there's something I've been meaning to ask you. Did you deliberately send that van off the bridge?"

"It was driving itself, and very erratically at that," the Riddler replied.

"I can't believe you weren't controlling it by remote," Yin said. "Otherwise, it would have hit another car."

"You're right, of course." He watched with relief as they drove through Arkham's gates, leaving the foul place behind.

"Then you were deliberately trying to kill me."

"Actually, no. I knew The Batman was right there, shadowing you. I was sure he would save you. I wasn't really surprised that you were still alive after the crash; I was surprised that The Batman didn't order you to stay behind and take over for you, instead of continuing to coach you from the sidelines."

"You were using me as bait, then."

"That, I'll admit to. And I used you against The Batman later, for the lie detector test. I was sure he would reveal enough clues to his identity to keep you from being shocked."

Yin shook her head. "We've come a long way, haven't we."

"Quite. And I like it."

That brought a slight smile. "So do I.

"But okay, Riddler, back to current cases. What did you really mean about Dr. Crane not believing you were changing your ways?"

He sobered. "He said he wanted to take me on as an apprentice for his work at Arkham. He said an apprentice of his would have to have darkness in their soul to approve of his methods. He felt I fit the bill."

"Well, we both know you still have a certain darkness," Yin said. "But somehow I can't picture you working with Crane, even if he isn't Scarecrow."

"I wouldn't. Although if I were working with him, I might be able to solve the rest of the mystery."

"Go undercover?" Yin shot a quick glance at him. "Would you really want to?"

"No. Especially if he isn't Scarecrow. He trusts me and that isn't something I want to shatter." His eyes narrowed. "If I could know he definitely is Scarecrow, I'd be more than willing to betray him to bring him down. He would have already betrayed me, in that case."

Yin frowned, not really wanting to put him in that kind of danger. "There has to be another way. Maybe if Scarecrow shows up tonight, the police or The Batman can catch and unmask him."

"Perhaps. If he doesn't get to them first."

Yin was about to reply when she felt a familiar vibration. "Batman's calling in," she announced. Speaking into the communicator, she said, "You're checking in late. Did you get my message?"

"Yeah," Batman replied. "And I have something to report too. We need to meet and discuss the case."

"Agreed. But where?"

"My office is fine," the Riddler interjected.

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes," Batman said.

"But . . ." Yin scowled as the communication broke off. "It'll take me at least twenty minutes," she muttered. "I just have an ordinary car."

The Riddler smiled. "I can show you a shortcut."

She glanced to him. "Good. Then let's go."

xxxx

It had been blissfully quiet in the Batcave for a while. Alfred had settled at the computer, thoughtfully solving a crossword puzzle. At a sudden, piercing yelp, he pressed the tip of the pen into the page in shock.

"What the heck is this?! Where am I?!" The bars rattled. "Let me out of here!"

Alfred stared in the direction of the cells. "Well, Cobblepot seems to be more in his usual temperament at last," he said to the room.

"Somebody tell me what's going on or I'm gonna bust these bars in!"

"Thank heavens it isn't Bane in that cell," Alfred sighed to himself. But Penguin might be able to do some level of damage, to the bars or more likely, to himself. Quickly Alfred set about contacting his employer.

"Hey, Alfred," came the greeting after a moment. "What's up?"

"Oswald Cobblepot is awake and furious," Alfred reported. "The fear gas seems to have completely worn off without any immediately visible aftereffects. Will you be home soon, Master Bruce? I'm afraid if he isn't given some type of answer on what's happening, he may harm himself trying to escape."

A brief silence followed. "I'm not sure. Some new developments happened and I arranged to talk with Detective Yin and Nygma at Nygma's office." Another pause. "But just in case Penguin can shed some light on things, I'd better come back and question him first. I'll tell Detective Yin I'll be a little late."

"Very good, Sir," Alfred said in audible relief. "How soon can I expect you?"

"I'm not too far from one of the entrances. I should be there in ten minutes."

To Alfred's further relief, the Batmobile drove in twelve minutes later. "You're late, Master Bruce," he said as the roof slid back and Batman leaped out.

"I told Detective Yin I had a possible lead and I'd tell them all about it when I came," Batman said. "I guess Penguin's still awake and angry?"

Before Alfred could answer, Penguin let out another cry. "You're gonna be sorry you ever messed with a Cobblepot! When I get outta here, I'm gonna . . ." He trailed off, his eyes widening as Batman walked up to the cell. "You! I shoulda known it'd be you, Batman! But what's with leaving me here so long without coming?!"

"Do you know how long you've been here?" Batman asked.

"What kind of a question is that?! Of course I know! It's been . . . uh . . ." Penguin trailed off, suddenly confused. "How long has it been? And what am I even doing here anyway? I was in Arkham."

"You don't know why you're not in Arkham now?" Batman frowned.

"I must've broke out. And you must've caught me! So why am I here instead of there?" Penguin gripped the bars, glowering up at his captor.

"I found you lying on the walkway of your family's old house," Batman told him. "You were almost unconscious and rambling about Bruce Wayne stealing your fortune and making you work for his butler. You don't remember that at all?" He regarded the criminal with concern. The other victims had remembered their fears.

"Huh?" Penguin blinked. "I was having a weird dream like that, but . . . oh come on! You're not saying it really wasn't a dream?!"

"No, I'm not saying that," Batman retorted. "It didn't really happen. But it wasn't a dream, either."

"So what was it if it wasn't one or the other?" Now Penguin looked suspicious. "Did I really go crazy after being locked up with the loony birds so long?"

"You don't remember what was happening at Arkham?" Batman watched him carefully, but honestly didn't think he was lying.

Penguin paused, thinking. "Arkham. . . . Dr. Crane took me. . . ."

Batman perked up. "You're sure it was Dr. Crane?"

"Yeah," Penguin frowned. "He put me in this room and . . ." Suddenly his eyes widened in pain and he screamed, a hand flying to the back of his neck.

Batman stared. It was not an act; Penguin was in serious agony. He stumbled back from the bars, collapsing to the floor as his body convulsed and electricity sparked.

Batman had the bars raised in the next moment. He rushed in, following the electricity to its source—a small, flesh-colored disc on Penguin's neck that he had overlooked earlier. He grabbed it, gritting his teeth against the pain, and pulled it free, smashing it on the floor.

Penguin groaned, going slack.

"Master Bruce?!" Alfred exclaimed through the communicator. "Master Bruce, what on Earth happened?!"

"Someone didn't want Penguin talking," Batman frowned. "And either they were listening in and knew exactly when to electrocute him, or the device was somehow programmed to go off at a certain point, maybe if he said specific words."

"My word!" Alfred hesitated. "Were they . . . successful?"

Batman bent down, feeling for a pulse. "No. I got to him in time." His eyes narrowed. "But this was clearly attempted murder. Our enemies have just upped the ante. Now I know that Dr. Crane really is a part of this. And I'm not going to rest until he and whoever he has working with him are stopped."

xxxx

Yin and the Riddler had arrived at his office some time back. To pass the time, the Riddler had shown her around the secret room and demonstrated some of his inventions, and Yin had admittedly been impressed. Now they were back in the outer office. And with Batman still absent, Yin was growing restless. She began to pace around the room.

"Typical," she said. "You show me a shortcut, but then he's delayed anyway. I hope this lead he's following gives us more to go on than we've got right now."

The Riddler had settled on the couch, watching her. "I'm sure he won't come here empty-handed."

"You've got that right." Batman glided into the office and flipped the sign on the door from Open to Closed.

Yin went over to him. "So what's going on?" she demanded. "What was this hot lead?"

"Last night I found Penguin suffering from what was apparently an overdose of the fear gas," Batman said. "I took him back with me and had someone watch him. The gas didn't wear off until a short time ago. At first he didn't remember what had happened, but then he started telling me that Dr. Crane took him last night at Arkham and put him in a room. That was as far as he got before this activated and tried to electrocute him." He held out the remains of the tiny disc.

Yin and the Riddler crowded around to see it. "What is it?" Yin frowned, taking it from Batman and turning it over between her fingers.

"I don't know, but I couldn't find any trace of a listening device. It must have been programmed to activate if Penguin said certain words, like 'Dr. Crane.' I'm going to run some more tests on it."

"Intriguing." The Riddler took it from Yin and examined it as well. "Devious and cruel, but intriguing."

Yin folded her arms. "Maybe Dr. Crane had good reason to think you'd make the perfect apprentice."

He shrugged. "I find the technology fascinating. Once upon a time, I might have used something similar. Just not lethal."

Yin looked up. "Is Penguin dead?"

"No, but he's not conscious yet. He's in the care of a trained medic." Batman opened his mouth again to ask about Yin's apprentice comment.

The Riddler flipped the disc like a coin, sending it back to Batman. "Of course you realize he won't be grateful to you or to that medic," he said before Batman had the chance to speak.

Batman caught it skillfully and slipped it into a chamber of his utility belt. "Most criminals aren't. You've had your moments too."

"It wasn't ingratitude so much as it was that I didn't want you interfering in my revenge. But yes, as far as turning on you, I'm guilty as charged. I just wonder why you bother, with me or Penguin or anyone else." The Riddler stepped back, taking up his cane.

"Because that's what I do." Batman walked past him. "And in this case, because Penguin could be the key to saving everyone from Scarecrow.

"What happened when the two of you went to see Dr. Crane?"

"He had pictures of some of his cases on his walls," Yin said. "I knew I thought that was strange, especially the gruesome poses he chose. He claimed they were people he'd helped. I made some calls while we've been waiting and that part of his story seems to be true."

"It's most likely a cover, the same as being head psychiatrist was a cover for Huge Strange," Batman said.

"That's exactly what Yinsey thought," the Riddler said. "And it's starting to seem more and more probable, after what you've told us. And after what he offered me."

Batman snapped to. Here was some of the information he hadn't been able to hear as Bruce Wayne. "Was that when he offered you the apprenticeship Detective Yin just mentioned?"

"Yes. He thought I had the proper darkness that such a task would require. But I have no intention of becoming a mad scientist . . . unless it's to bring down another mad scientist." The Riddler's eyes narrowed. "You don't have any proof that he's Scarecrow, I suppose."

"No, but it's certainly heading in that direction. The way it looks is that he was experimenting on Penguin last night at Arkham and overloaded him with fear gas. Penguin escaped. And for some reason, he was allowed to. They haven't even reported the breakout. Maybe Crane was testing the aftereffects of such a large dose of the gas and figured that the disc would stop Penguin from saying anything incriminating."

"He still could have been doused with the fear gas after he escaped," Yin said. "Scarecrow could have cornered him somewhere in town."

"But he would have had to be incapacitated for a long time to experience that amount of gas," Batman replied. "He remembered being put in a room. He was probably sealed in and then gassed for an extended period of time."

A shiver ran up Yin's spine. "That's too barbaric, even for Penguin to suffer."

"I know." Batman turned away. "But what bothers me is why they did it. Was it just another experiment? Or did they have some particular reason for choosing Penguin over any other inmate?"

"You mean maybe Penguin knew something he shouldn't?" the Riddler mused.

"Of course," Yin realized. "So they gassed him, maybe hoping the heavy dosage would either make him forget or kill him. That disc was probably wired to kill him if he said anything about that, too."

"I'm sure. Hopefully a prolonged examination of the disc will show me which words and phrases were the triggers. I'm going to work on that now, unless there's anything else you two have to tell me."

"I don't think so," the Riddler said.

"Unless we want to discuss what Ethan probably knows," Yin said. "He behaved very strangely when Wayne and I visited him. If something happened to Penguin at Arkham last night, I think he knows about it. He must have been threatened with someone's safety if he told."

"Or perhaps with the idea that he wouldn't be released?" the Riddler suggested.

Yin's eyes burned. "If people were actually getting hurt, he wouldn't let a threat like that stop him," she insisted.

"Maybe not, if this were the past," the Riddler said. "But now that he's spent time as Clayface, not to mention that he tried unsuccessfully to rehabilitate before, do you think he would still not be afraid at the thought of not being allowed to leave Arkham?"

Yin stiffened. He was hitting a nerve. It went back to her deeply rooted fears about the possible return of Clayface and Ethan's stability. She really believed he would make it this time, and yet, after the failure of the past, she couldn't help but be worried. And she didn't like hearing those fears voiced, especially without proof.

"What's your deal, Riddler?" she snapped. "If you're trying to tease me again, this isn't funny."

"Do I sound like I'm teasing?" he retorted. Actually, he sounded slightly hurt.

Batman gritted his teeth. If Yin knew his civilian identity, he could simply confirm what Ethan had told him was the reason for his silence. But when emotions were starting to spike, was this really a good time to let the bomb drop?

"His reason doesn't really matter at the moment," he interjected. "The point is, he probably knows something. But if he does, he's obviously not about to reveal it."

Yin sighed, rubbing her forehead. "You're right. And there's the fact that he said Crane was at Arkham last night during Scarecrow's debut in Gotham. How do we get past that? I'm not going to believe he deliberately lied for Crane. But if Crane was there, he couldn't be Scarecrow."

"There's several possibilities," Batman said. "Maybe Crane really was there at the time Bennett said. It could have been between attacks. He might have gone back to Arkham to try to set up an alibi for himself."

"Ethan really didn't seem completely sure of himself," the Riddler pointed out. "For a moment, he acted as though he may have seen Dr. Crane at a different time instead."

"Yeah," Yin remembered. "I didn't think anything of it at the time. And maybe there isn't anything to it." She paused. "But it's a possibility that will have to be investigated." No matter what she wanted to believe or what she feared, she had a responsibility to do her job. And right now that meant stopping Scarecrow and the nutcases at Arkham, no matter what got revealed in the process.

"Just be careful how you go about it," Batman cautioned. "The Arkham staff will probably have ways of knowing if he talks. We don't want to endanger Bennett or whoever else's safety he may have been threatened with."

Yin nodded. "I guess right now, there isn't a whole lot to do except examine that disc and wait to see if Penguin wakes up and can tell you anything. And see whether Scarecrow comes out again tonight," she frowned.

"Pretty much." Batman headed for the door. "We'll stick with those options for now. Depending on what happens in the next few hours, we'll decide whether to lean on Bennett for what he might know."

"Be sure to call the moment there's any developments," Yin said urgently. "The commissioner wants to know too."

"I'll call." With that Batman slipped out the door and shut it behind him, leaving the Riddler to change the sign if he wanted.

The Riddler made no motion to do so. "Well, that was interesting," he said. "We still don't really know what's happening, but it certainly looks as though Jonathan Crane is digging his own grave. Even if he isn't the one riding through Gotham at night, he's involved up to his neck. The question is how to prove it."

Yin was silent. "Look, Riddler," she said after a moment, "I'm sorry about what I said. You're right that Ethan might feel pressured with a threat of not being able to leave Arkham. I don't want to believe that he would give in, but he's struggled before, just as you pointed out. He could fail again. And that . . ." She hesitated. "It is one of my fears, just like Scarecrow's fear gas showed me."

"I know." The Riddler's tone was serious. "And I wouldn't make light of that."

Yin laid a hand on his shoulder. "I know. I just didn't like hearing my fears spoken by someone else. As long as they were just mine, I could say I was overreacting. For someone else to bring it up, I'd have to face that it wasn't just me." She sighed. "Which I should have done anyway."

"No one likes to think the worst about someone they love. Not even cops."

Yin managed a smirk. "Cops have feelings too, huh? You're pretty perceptive sometimes."

"I just don't want you to wind up getting hurt. When we don't know what's going on with Ethan, there is that chance."

Yin sobered. "Hopefully that's all it will ever be—a chance. One that doesn't happen."

"I'll hope that as well," the Riddler told her.

xxxx

The rest of the day passed slowly and without much success. A more thorough examination of the disc showed that it was heavily encoded and would take a while to break. Before Bruce had managed to do that, night was falling.

"Any luck, Sir?" Alfred asked as he approached.

"Not much," Bruce frowned. "What about Penguin?"

"Still unconscious, I'm afraid. That fatal burst of electricity that wasn't quite fatal for him still left him in a concerning state. This isn't really the proper place to treat someone in need of medical attention."

"It's been good for me," Bruce said. "I don't think we can risk taking Penguin away from here right now. In fact, I wonder if it might be a good idea to start spreading a rumor that he's dead."

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Sir?"

"It could make it safer for him in the long run," Bruce explained. "And it might lure Crane and whoever else into a false sense of security. They might make a mistake."

"Hmm. I suppose," Alfred said carefully. "Or they might endanger someone else. Someone such as Ethan Bennett, perhaps."

Bruce leaned back with a sigh. "I've been worrying about that," he admitted. "I wish there was some way to get Ethan out of there and away from the line of fire. But I'm worried that trying to temporarily get him out of there might ruin his chances for being released from Arkham."

"Surely not, if it was shown not to be his fault that he vanished," Alfred said.

"That's a thought," Bruce agreed. "Maybe The Batman will have to break in and kidnap him."

"And would Ethan come here as well?"

"Probably," Bruce said. "I can't think of a better place for him."

"He would certainly be a more desirable cave guest than Oswald Cobblepot," Alfred declared.

"No arguments there, Alfred," Bruce smiled.

Without warning the Batwave went off, startling them both. "Someone is reporting a giant cockroach skittering over the cars on the highway?" Alfred read in disbelief.

Bruce jumped up in an instant. "Scarecrow," he said darkly, pulling his cowl back over his eyes.

"It would seem so," Alfred agreed in concern. "Do be careful, Master Bruce."

Batman rushed past, leaping into the Batmobile. It pealed out of the Batcave, startling several bats. Penguin, however, didn't stir at the noise.

Alfred sighed to himself. "No matter what I might think of you, I won't have you dying on my watch," he vowed. "I just hope you'll cooperate when you awaken."

xxxx

It didn't take long to follow Scarecrow's trail. The woman who had reported the cockroach was standing on a street corner, trembling, the gas just starting to wear off. She shakily pointed Batman in the right direction, whereupon he encountered several other people who had seen various disturbing sights.

The police were likely close behind, Batman thought to himself, but he was alone when he arrived in an isolated neighborhood of small hills and abandoned houses and saw a rider on a rearing horse at the top of one such hill. Parking the Batmobile, he jumped out and ran towards the sight. "Scarecrow!" he yelled.

The creature turned to face him. It was just as Nygma and Yin had described, right down to the glowing eyes and mouth and charred flesh. "Batman," it uttered. Was it Batman's imagination or was it tensing up?

He continued to advance on the hill. "You've been tormenting people long enough," he declared. "You need psychological help. Tonight you're going down."

"What is madness? What is sanity?" Scarecrow lunged, spraying the air with a vial. Batman dodged, placing a portable breather in his mouth until the gas dissipated. "You think you're sane and I'm mad. What if it's just the opposite? It isn't sane to put yourself in danger when you don't have to, night after night."

"It isn't sane to torment people with their worst fears," Batman said angrily.

"Humanity has never done anything for me before," Scarecrow replied. "When I thought of this idea, I was delighted that I had finally found some use for them."

"The world doesn't belong to you to do with as you will." Batman released a Batarang, knocking the vial from Scarecrow's claw-like hand. It fell to the grass, more gas escaping. Batman reapplied the breather.

He frowned, watching Scarecrow cackle and come at him again. He leaped to the side and sent out a Batrope to pull Scarecrow off the horse. Instead, the madman threw a match, setting the rope on fire. Alarmed, Batman countered it with a small vial of water, dousing the flame.

Why isn't Scarecrow ever affected by the gas? he wondered. Either that mask protects him from it . . . or he's been exposed to it so often that he's developed immunity for it. Or . . . He paused, a new thought coming to him. Maybe he doesn't fear anything.

Deciding to try to test his theory, he grabbed the fallen gas vial from the ground. "Scarecrow!" He pressed the button. "Have a taste of your own medicine."

Although Scarecrow looked momentarily startled, it quickly faded and he laughed as the cloud of gas surrounded him. "It doesn't work on me, Batman."

"Why not?" Batman demanded.

"See if you can figure it out. But meanwhile . . ." Without warning Scarecrow produced a second vial. "I'm guessing The Batman isn't completely fearless, or he wouldn't need that breather. But what is the Dark Knight afraid of? I want to find out."

Again Batman dodged, grabbing for his breather. But this time, just like in his nightmare, a heavy chain swooped out, wrapping around his torso and binding his arms to his sides. The breather was knocked from his hand. He clenched his teeth, struggling against the bindings, but no avail. Then Scarecrow was laughing and a strange scent was filling the air.

Now Batman was fighting against the gas and not just the chains. He blinked, his eyes watering. Whatever he saw wouldn't be real. He had to focus on that and not let it bother him.

"Son."

He looked up with a start. "Dad?" Thomas Wayne was stepping out of the shadows, not looking impressed. Martha Wayne was right beside him, equally unhappy.

"Son, what are you doing with your life?" Thomas demanded. "Pretending to be a party animal while by night you dress up as a vigilante and try to save all of Gotham? You have a responsibility to the company. That's what you need to focus on, not this nonsense."

Martha's eyes were sad. "We thought we could count on you, Bruce. But you couldn't save us. You didn't save us." Now a hole was opening in her flesh, crimson dripping from the fatal wound inflicted by the still-unknown mugger.

Batman gasped, wanting to look away but being unable to. "No. . . . Mom . . . Dad. . . ."

Thomas's appearance was similarly changing. "If you couldn't save your own parents, how can you expect to save anyone else? You can't protect the city. Don't you understand? You can't. You didn't."

Suddenly raucous laughter was echoing all around him. It wasn't Scarecrow's, or even any one specific person's at all. It was the entire city, fallen prey to Joker's toxic laughing gas. And as Batman stood there, listening to the uncontrollable howls and guffaws all around him, he suddenly became aware that Gotham was on fire. Every building, every home, every tree and blade of grass, was burning out of control. Anyone who didn't die from the laughing gas was dying from the inferno. Batman could only stand there, helpless, watching it happen.

No! Batman cried in his mind. This isn't real. None of it's real. I have to break out of it. I have to . . .

"Batman!"

Someone was grabbing his shoulder. Someone real . . . someone not laughing.

"Batman, are you alright?!"

Slowly he blinked away the moisture from his eyes. His vision was clearing, bringing the hill and the grass back into focus. He wasn't bound; the chain was gone and so was Scarecrow. Yin was bending over him, worried.

". . . Where's Scarecrow?" he mumbled.

"Gone," Yin said in annoyance. "When we got here, we found his horse had left tracks, but those disappeared at the edge of the grass. We haven't been able to pick up his trail."

The red-and-blue lights of police cars flashed across the previously lonely area. Batman sat up, cursing himself for falling prey to the fear gas. And what had he said aloud? Had it been anything that could trace back to his true identity? Could Scarecrow know who he was now?

He pushed those concerns aside. He was really pretty sure he hadn't said anything that identifying.

"How long have you been here?" he asked, slowly getting to his feet.

"Just a couple of minutes." Yin frowned. "So Scarecrow got you too?"

"Unfortunately." Batman stumbled, but quickly caught his balance.

"Whoa." Yin reached to steady him. "Maybe you should get checked out by someone."

"I'll take care of that later." Batman turned to head towards the Batmobile.

"You're in no condition to drive," Yin insisted. "Riddler drove me after I was gassed."

"I'll put it on Auto Drive," Batman replied. Easing himself into the vehicle, he pressed a few buttons and slumped into the seat, letting the technologically advanced car steer away from the curb and past the police cars.

"Hey, wait a minute!" an officer yelled. He sighed. "We still needed a statement."

Yin looked to him. "I don't think he could tell us much more than we already know," she said. "Unless you're wondering what someone like The Batman fears."

The officer flushed. "No, Detective. Well, I mean, I do kind of wonder, but I wouldn't ask him that."

"I would hope not." Yin turned away, studying the area in frustration. "Where are you now, Scarecrow?" she muttered. "And who's going to be hurt next?"

She was really downright afraid of the answer.