The technician stormed into the bullpen. "I've got one of the companies on the phone, they've tracked the virus."

"Perfect!" Ben beamed.

"It's not that perfect, yet."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because the virus is sort of only in the system when Terence William's cell is online, when he makes a call. We can't do anything unless his cell makes a call."

"And we do not want it to get so far that some poor person have to make that phone call." Jacobs said. "We got to find this weirdo."

"I know. Pronto." Ben sighed. "We're not getting anywhere."

Rachel threw files on the table. "I've looked his name up. Nothing."

"Nothing?" Jacobs behaved a bit stiff towards Rachel, since her sudden outburst.

"No, I found no Terence Williams in the records looking like him."

Ben sighed again. "I've got the report from the CSI team back. They found no DNA except for Sarah's. They've never seen a place as clean as it! It was complete empty of traces of a human being living there. Fucking sanitarian!"

"We talked about it, you remember?" Jacobs turned to Ben. "The only way to leave no DNA behind is to wrap yourself in plastic, remove your fingerprints and shave yourself."

"Yeah, I remember, shave everything, eyebrows, even picking your own eyelashes etc."

"Do you think it's possible he's been following the guide? Sarah even said his head was shaved."

"But the fact that he doesn't appear in registers? This man is experienced."

"It could also mean he's been staying in roughly the same location his whole life, since he probably doesn't have a license or passport."

Ben flipped through the files. "You said he was tall, right, Dawes."

Rachel nodded. "Although, his hair was not shaved when he held me captivated. So he have changed his appearance a bit."

"There must be DNA from him somewhere! I want the CSI team to search the whole damn neighborhood, bins and everything! And people should know about him, a fucking giant dressed in plastic clothes. We should go knocking on doors." Ben said.

Rachel pulled out the note. "He left me this. I found it in my apartment. I'm going to send it to the lab, I hope we will find something on it."

"I will never forget you." Sounds like you made an impact on him." Jacobs whistled. "Besides, I've thought about it, Sarah looks roughly like you Dawes, brown hair, Caucasian, educated and so on. She fits your profile. He never forgot you."

"No, he did not."

:::

"Hello, my name's Rachel Dawes I'm participating in the investigation regarding the murder of Sarah Johanson." She held up an identikit picture. "He's very tall and-"

"No, I 'aint never seen him before."

"Thank you for your time."

"Hey! Wait, Missy, can you take the trash out, would 'ya?

:::

"Hello, my name's Rachel Dawes I'm participating in the investigation regarding the murder of Sarah Johanson." The identikit picture once again.

"Are you the lady from the news?"

"What lady?"

"The one in a coma."

"Yeah, that's me."

"Can you ask Bruce Wayne to send me money?"

"No."

"Meh, it was worth a shoot."

"Do you recognize the man on the picture?"

"No, never seen the dude before."

:::

Ben snorted. "We've got 60 policemen including us 15 to knock on 19 000 doors in Gotham. We need resources. We need a reward for the clue that leads to an arrest!"

Jacobs tilted her head. "Money we don't have, since the corruption is back in town."

"I know that, I think about the Gotham fund raising party on Saturday. What do you say, Jacobs, should we poke the rich in town with a stick and hope money comes flying down the sky?"

"Ask Dawes if she can shook some money out of Wayne."

Jacobs started laughing. "She would never do that. Besides I don't think she has that kind of power over him!"

"I'm serious, have you read the papers lately? There are a lot of blurry pictures of them together and the papers are ready to wed them and name their first born."

"You do it then."

"Fine. Hey Dawes!"

"What?" She appeared in the bullpen with an annoyed look on her face.

"What do you say about pushing Wayne to donate money for a tip reward now on Saturday?"

"I would say; Do it yourself!"

"Come on, turn on your female charm and lure a couple of thousands off him."

"I don't work like that. But you seem like the expert to me, why don't you turn on your male charm and lure the money off him?" She said using his earlier phrase, indicating she had heard the conversation.

"The papers-"

"There are a lot of untrue articles in the papers nowadays." Rachel stalked back to her office.

Jacobs turned to Smith with a smirk. "I told you so."

:::

"Miss Dawes, I'm afraid I have to tell you that you didn't succeed the expectations I had for you."

"I'm sad to hear that, Mr Garcia."

"Please call me Anthony."

"Right Anthony."

"You see I gave you the position as DA because I knew you would be very important for Gotham. Your image is perfect! That's why I pulled a few strings, heck, you are not even supposed to participate in an investigation where you have personal connections. But I believe you can do this, please don't make me regret my decision."

"We're going to catch him."

"That's great to hear. We don't want anymore incidents, miss Dawes."

"Of course not."

Anthony's face lit up in his usual award winning Mayor-smile. "Enjoy the evening and excuse me."

Rachel turned around and stumbled into a friend from College. The fund raising party was filled with politicians, lawyers, journalist, rich people and anyone who could afford to buy the expensive ticket to have a hob-nob with the economical elite.

"This is only intermutual admiration! Ha!" Her college friend, Lizzy, said. "Just look at them with all their money!"

"Lizzy, how many drinks have you had?"

"Too many! Ha! I'm happy I'm a normal person with both of my feet on the ground." The blonde woman leaned in and whispered. "Do you think they wipe their asses with money?"

"Go and sober up, Lizzy." Rachel rolled her eyes. "Besides, who are you wearing tonight?" She added with a sneer.

"Dior, what else?"

"Don't you think it's a little bit too hypocritical to be wearing an expensive brand and at the same time bash the rich?"

"You are- You are- You're completely right, Rachel, I'm going to wrap myself in eco friendly newspapers and throw myself in front of their expensive Ferraris!"

"Not tonight I hope."

"No, not tonight. I'm going to get drunk!"

"You are already drunk."

"Yeah, you're right on that point too."

"Should I try to get your boyfriend over here?"

"That would be lovely."

"Stay here."

:::

Another person had also got himself a bit too drunk on the party. Bruce had arrived, as usual with a grand entry, by a white helicopter. Rachel had hid herself in the mass of people. He had gone straight to the bar.

"Give me a scotch... leave the bottle here." He told the barman. "I deserve some fun before the dragons are coming after me for money." Bruce added with a bitter tone. "I've already signed the damn check, since I'm going to be so drunk I'm not going to be able to hold a pen later this evening."

"Everything for you. Mr Wayne."

He sipped on the alcohol. "Good scotch."

First glass was emptied.

The barman nodded. "Good year, 1983."

The second glass was emptied.

"Yeah, the 80's were great." Bruce sighed and looked out in the great room. "Just look at them! They're either so called elite or just trying to mimicking the elite... oh look, even more perfect, the most corruptive people in Gotham!"

"Sir, if I were you, I would lower my tone." The barman suggested.

Third glass.

"Don't tell me what to do!" Bruce slurred. "You see the brunette there? Do you recognize her?"

"Miss Rachel Dawes, the DA of Gotham?"

Fourth glass.

"No, the other one, to her left!"

"There's a blonde woman to her left, sir."

"No, I mean my left!"

"Your left is my left, sir." The barman rolled his eyes.

Fifth glass.

"Why do you make it so hard, I mean that brunette! She the one who left...ha! You get it, she who left who was standing to the left!" Bruce waved in the air with his hand. "I don't know where she is now."

The barman cleaned a glass. He concentrated really hard on that simple task, it wasn't until Bruce's alcoholic breath found it's way into his nose, he looked up again.

"Do you want to know a secret?" Bruce asked with a smile. "No one knows this but I am- I am Batman!" He giggled. "I really am!"

The barman removed the scotch; "You've had enough for this evening!"

:::

Arms snaked around her waist. "Hello there!"

Rachel jumped. "Bruce?"

"The one and only!" He whispered into her ear.

"What are you-?"

He fumbled with the check in his pocket. "You see, honey, I know exactly what you and your cop friends are up to. This whole thing is all about money! Fund raising, huh?"

Rachel felt extremely uncomfortable. "Bruce, would you be kind and stop?" Her eyes scanned the surroundings.

"Why, sweetheart? We're getting to the fun part." He pushed the check into her hand. "Enjoy yourself."

"I'm sorry, I'm not taking a check. It's not right, you're drunk and you don't know what you're doing."

"You're so full of morals, you've always been."

She gave the check back. "Go home. For your own sake." She begged him.

"You know I can't resist when you're looking-"

Their conversation was interrupted. "Well well, what do we have here? Gotham's most fashionable couple!" A woman squealed. She offered her hand. "My name's Christina Spencer. I'm the editor at Click!"

"Pleasure to meet you." Bruce offered his hand, with a bit of a struggle since he tried to maintain his right arm around Rachel's waist.

"So in love! You can't keep your hands of each others!" Christina licked her lips, she had a story on the way. "For how long?"

Rachel gulped and tried to save the situation. "We're not-"

"Of course we are!" Bruce bit back and stroked her hair. "She's a bit shy, Christina, may I call you Christina?"

"Of course you may." She smiled and her nostrils widened. "I'm sure you've read the papers lately. People are wondering, they're curious about the two of you. I imagine it would be so much better if you could give the whole story yourselves, instead of all these ridiculously articles speculating about you."

"I agree to full extent!"

"Perfect!" Christina looked like she had got all her wishes confirmed, which she had. "Why don't the two of you give me the whole story? The people in Gotham wants to know your story, especially yours Miss Dawes, how you dealt with the coma. It must have been a tragedy!"

"The whole story? Well with the fact that I was her second-"

"For all the-, would you shut up?" Rachel snapped. "Do forgive me, Miss Spencer, but he's drunk and has no idea of what he's saying."

"You're going to cover it up as well?" Bruce slurred and pointed accusingly at her with his index finger.

"I'm not!"

Another man joined the group, as if he sensed something bad was bound to happen. "Is something the matter?" A British voice asked.

Rachel turned to the new guest in the conversation. "Thank you! Alfred! Bruce is not feeling well."

"I see."

She leaned in and whispered into Alfred's ear. "He's been talking too much to the editor of Click!"

The editor, Christina smiled business-like. "Hi. My name's Christina Spencer, I'm the editor at Click! and I've just had a fascinating conversation with Mr Wayne and his lovely Miss Dawes." Christina stretched out her hand towards Alfred.

"I'm not his." Rachel objected.

"Not officially..." Bruce added with a smirk, "... yet." He blinked clumsily and Christina Spencer could hardly contain herself from squealing.

"Would you keep your mouth shut, Bruce?"

"Miss Dawes!" Alfred warned and turned to Christina. "You will find a check on your desk by tomorrow with a generous amount, in exchange you will not breathe a word of this." He smiled warmly.

"I can't be bought!" Christina said.

"You're making a vague on people's personal lives." Alfred replied.

That comment sure made Christina loose her face.

:::

"Hello, Jacobs, you look nice tonight." Rachel chimed.

The usually stiff and shabby dressed investigator, Jacobs, was dressed in a simple black dress and a sour face. "We've got something you might want to take a look at. I hope you're not enjoying yourself too much, because this will ruin your appetite."

"Like what?"

"You got to see for yourself." She made a face and started to wade through the crowd with Rachel behind.

"Listen Jacobs, I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier." Rachel said with a delicate voice.

"Don't worry, it comes with the job."

They went through a door and stalked down a long corridor. "The hotel staff found her, on the street in front of the hotel."

"On the street?"

"She appears to have been thrown out of a car."

"Poor thing."

"Yeah, at least she wasn't alive when she was thrown out of the car. We've got footage but it doesn't seem to lead us anywhere. Just a dark car without a license plate. The fact that the footage is shit doesn't make it better." They've came to the end of corridor. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." Rachel nodded with a determined look on her face.

Inside the room was an ordinary bench. That was just about it, except for the black plastic bag.

"Is she?"

"Yeah." Ben Smith emerged from the shadows, he looked like he hadn't slept for the last week. His tie was distressed and his suit looked like it had seen better days. "She's all chopped up. Awful sight."

"Is it really that bad?"

Ben nodded. "We need to get this Terence behind bars!"

"How do we know this is connected with Terence?" Rachel asked with an increasing feeling of worry. The mayor's words lingered in her mind.

"He's written your name across the poor girl's forehead." Ben said.

The plastic bag was unzipped.

The limbs were almost cut off. The name 'Rachel' had been carved into the forehead with a sharp object. The worst part was the look of sheer horror on her face, her last scream had been frozen in her features.

"No one deserves this."

"Does the public know?"

Ben snorted. "Judging by the enormous pool of blood on the street, they probably already know."