"Police are on the lookout for a dangerous criminal who has escaped custody whilst being transferred to Arkham Asylum. A police van was found early this morning on the road leading to the Asylum, with the mutilated bodies of two guards inside. Both victims were stabbed multiple times, and then had smiles carved into their faces. Both Stonegate and Arkham are refusing to release details on the escaped prisoner, and police are asking citizens within the districts across from Arkham to lock their doors and windows, and to report any mysterious goings-on in the community. In sports news, the Gotham Goliaths won again last night-"
Bruce Wayne turned the television off. He was midway through a delicious continental breakfast, and now, he couldn't get last night's most disturbing crime out of his head. He pushed the tray of food away, and began the long, arduous walk to his study. Being a wealthy, handsome billionaire who owned a luxurious mansion had its perks, but convenience was not one of them. He wandered down Wayne Manor's lonely hallways, in his $10,000 silk bathrobe, calling out for his butler, Alfred Pennyworth. The old Englishman peeped his head out from a room just ahead of Bruce, with a smile prepared.
"Yes, Master Bruce?" Bruce expression didn't reflect his own, Alfred's smile met with a furrowed brow and an angry scowl.
"Did you see the news this morning?" Bruce asked, without breaking stride. Alfred knew Bruce Wayne was a man of action, and had learned to keep up with him.
"Yes, I did. I believe the Goliaths are on a hot-streak."
"Not that. The murders."
"Yes, I was afraid you meant that." Alfred's cheery demeanour dissolved, as he'd fretted about what his employer was going to do since he heard the dreadful news. They strode into the study, and Bruce went over to one of the huge built-in bookcases. "Sir, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it's 7:30 in the morning."
"What's your point, Alfred?"
"Well, if you're doing what I think you're going to do, then I'm afraid your schedule is too tightly packed today. You have a board meeting in an hour and a half, lunch with one of your very lovely female companions, a prospective client meeting you at 2, and dinner with two of your very lovely female companions at 5."
"Alfred, two people have been murdered. Clear my schedule."
"Might I add, Master Bruce, that it's highly doubtful the perpetrator is walking the streets of Gotham in broad daylight, wearing an orange jumpsuit, sticking out like a sore thumb? And further to that, in the harsh light of day, you yourself are not entirely unnoticeable? And my final point; you are trying to keep the legend of the Batman just that? A legend. The last thing we need, if you're going to continue this vigilante nonsense, is full media coverage on it?" The old man's advice somehow got through to Bruce, and he moved away from the bookcase.
"Alright, Alfred, point taken." Bruce began to saunter up to his bedroom to get changed for his board meeting. Alfred chuckled to himself, and set off to return to work. Bruce peered back around the door. "Oh, and Alfred?"
"Yes, Master Bruce?"
"Cancel dinner. I'll be busy at 5." The butler sighed to himself. Bruce Wayne knew an awful lot about responsibility, but wasn't too bright when it came to maintaining a sufficient disguise.
"Master Bruce, if you want to maintain the image of billionaire playboy so as to deflect suspicion from your nightly activities, I suggest you keep your dinner date with the two supermodels. The perpetrator will still be around afterwards."
"I know, Alfred. The question is, will anyone that crosses him?" Alfred conceded to this, and picked up the phone.
"Miss Kerr? It's Alfred Pennyworth, Master Wayne's butler. I'm afraid I have some bad news."