It goes without saying that I do not own the characters used within (something which I'm sure we're all grateful for.)
Unlikely Detectives
2 - The Dark Knight
Batman was known by many titles throughout his career. The Dark Knight. The Caped Crusader. But out of all of them, he allowed himself to take pride in one in particular: the World's Greatest Detective. As a boy who grew up worshipping such fanciful characters like Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes, it was satisfying when he was able to solve a problem with his mind alone, without reaching for so much equipment in his belt or breaking a jawbone.
Batman had been born in a filthy ally, behind a theatre which had just finished screening Zorro. Tim Drake had once wondered if Bruce Wayne would have become a hat-and-coat wearing investigator if a young doctor's son wanted to watch The Maltese Falcon instead. Something which Alfred believed would have still lead to "pattering on rooftops in black." But Batman could appreciate the irony. He was, at his heart, a detective.
And presently, it was a good night for investigating. Three senior members of Penguin's operation were on their way to Blackgate following an attempted, cocky robbery of an auto-teller machine in the Bowery. It was encouraging to see the look on Bullock's face when they were led away in handcuffs without a bruise on them. The evidence that had been compiled and left on the hood of his car was too damning, and Harvey's revolver was too big to argue with.
Even cowardly and superstitious thugs knew when they were out of luck.
"Batman to Penny One," he hailed as he approached the shrouded tunnel beneath the manor. Gravel gave way to cement, lined with glowing blue lights either side. The Batmobile cruised comfortably through a passageway that it had travelled every evening since being built. "I'm wrapping the patrol up early. I'll be back momentarily."
"Oh, I am pleased, sir," Alfred's voice came through the speaker, a little more tense than usual. A little stressed, but not alarmed. A stressed Alfred could mean anything from a collapsed arrangement of armour in the manor's museum wing to the cave's bats being off their food.
"What's wrong, Alfred?" Bruce asked, already seeing the lights of the cave appearing at the end of the passage. There was no higher level of security on the planet, and certainly no need to continue with code names. "You sound a little… anxious."
"Well, sir, you have a rather charming guest here who requires Batman's aid. And I was rather hoping you'd be gracing us with your presence sooner than later…"
The Batmobile cruised into the central cavernous area of the Batcave, cutting its speed as the runway came to an end. The current incarnation of his vehicle, as sleek and black and powerful as so many others before it, came to a stop on the hydraulic turntable. The canopy slid open, and Batman hopped out of the machine, climbing the industrial staircase up to the main platform and finding Alfred waiting patiently. Along with –
"Kara?" Unseen behind his cowl, Bruce Wayne quirked an eyebrow. Power Girl was one of many Justice League members who had visited the cave in the past. But she seemed to keep a low profile since regaining her company from Maxwell Lord. Smart and professional, she was as welcome as so many other League members before her. All the same, Karen Starr ran a busy life and had little reason for coming as far as Gotham. Which left him wondering why she was visiting now?
"I called ahead," Power Girl began. She sat on one of the utility chairs with a fine China cup in her hands. Alfred's sense of British etiquette would never have allowed for a guest so stay thirsty, after all. "I'd have waited until you were back, but – "
"Upon hearing Miss Starr's request, I insisted she came when possible, Master Bruce," Alfred interrupted, coming to wait nearby. Bruce waved it away, peeling the cowl away from his face.
"Perfectly fine, Alfred," he said. He trusted the elder man's judgment for a long time, and this would be no exception. "Though I hope you served something other than instant coffee for our guest."
"The finest tea one can acquire this side of the pond, Master Bruce," he said formally. "I only serve you the instant." Alfred smartly began to remove the scalloped cape from Bruce's shoulders as Karen smirked, amused by the banter she only ever witnessed between "those Wayne boys," as Stephanie Brown described them.
"Charming," Bruce murmured, before removing his gauntlets and giving his full attention to the visiting Power Girl. "What can we do for you, Kara?"
Despite everything that happened that evening, Power Girl found herself smiling a little. Not so much from Bruce offering immediate help – she would bet what was left of her office building that he would have done that. But he remained one of the few people who used her birth name in private. Not Power Girl, or her adopted name of Karen. Kara. Kara Zor-L. It was… well, nice. And just a little sad.
"It's been a long evening, Bruce. I – that is, Karen Starr – was the target of a bombing." She watched as the ordinarily stoic features of Bruce Wayne become creased. Eyes narrowed, and mouth frowned. And then she felt it – a quick flicker of his pupils as he took all of her in. If not for her heightened senses, she might have missed it. But she didn't, and she had the distinct impression that the master detective had already learned a number of things from her.
"One that she avoided," he murmured. She wasn't surprised. Invincible as she was, Bruce could probably find any number of clues, from scorch marks on her skin or ashes in her hair, to tell if she was hugging a bomb when it went off.
"If I may, sir." Alfred's voice carried from the massive assortment of screens that comprised the Batcomputer, where her smoking and damaged office was on display. The headlines of Breaking News: Starrware Bombed filled the corner of the screen. "It seems Miss Starr ran afoul of an exploding snow globe."
"That's what I get for buying off eBay," she joked as Bruce gave the screen his attention. The feed was muted, but she was confident he was getting more from the helicopter footage than whatever the news was reporting. "Bruce?"
He turned and once again gave her his undivided attention. "One of my employees – a secretary – was injured in this. I pulled her out from under a reinforced door with more than a few broken bones. She's on her way to intensive care." Power Girl's lip curled downward. "I don't know what they want with me, but I want them first."
Batman merely nodded. "Tell me everything."
So, she did. She explained how Charlotte was expecting a parcel, which no doubt led to the explosive being brought to her office. How there was a delay – long enough for her to get clear, but not far enough to escape being knocked over by the collapsing door. And how she found what could only be a signal box in an opposite building, aimed at her office and producing a soundwave that she had to strain to hear.
"And this is our culprit?" he asked afterwards, nodding towards a sterile surgical tray that held the modest box.
"It's still producing a signal," Karen said, glaring at it as she strained her hearing and heard it whine. "But the way I figure, good luck if it think's it's going to get anything through these walls." Kal had often remarked that Gotham's old architecture had so much lead lined through the foundations, that using his x-ray vision gave him headaches. But it was nothing compared to the security that the Batcave had. Even now, peering around the large cavern, the tiny heartbeats of the bats above stood out like pinpricks of light against the painted surfaces.
"It may not be transmitting for very long," Bruce remarked, shifting the tray to a nearby bench and withdrawing a toolkit from seemingly nowhere. He studied the smooth casing before finding a point of entry he was happy with and carefully began forcing a blade under a seam. "Can you hear any movement inside that may suggest a backup explosive?" His attention never shifted from the machine in his hands.
Karen strained and, after a moment, shook her head. Blonde tresses of her short hair bounced around her face before Bruce twisted the tool. A plastic crack snapped through the cave, and the device broke open, revealing an assortment of processors and parts that seemed typical for a wireless receiver. "What the hell…?"
She bent low and prodded the innards, a gloved finger turning over a processor that was stamped SW in the same manner and motif that all Starrware products had. Power Girl frowned, struck dumb with irony.
"They actually used my components to bomb me," she muttered darkly. But Bruce remained somewhat impassive, examining a different piece altogether.
"For what it's worth, I was considering using your batteries in the next design of the Batwing," he said, before turning to the faithful retainer waiting nearby. "Alfred, would you bring me my Starrware phone?"
Alfred Pennyworth offered a small bow and departed, leaving the costumed pair to examine the cracked transmitter. Power Girl regarded Batman for a moment as he continued studying the mechanism until the silence wore on too long for her liking. She crossed her arms over her chest and smirked.
"So," she began, a teasing lilt in her voice. "Has Batman gone ahead and put one of his symbols on the back of my phone?" She wagged her eyebrows as he looked up, the faintest hint of amusement on his features while he sorted the pieces of the transmitter into separate piles.
"Bruce Wayne certainly has one of yours," he replied. Alfred reappeared from a passageway holding a smartphone. Starrware's newest model, she recognised. "The perks of being able to afford the best. Sorry. I should say that Bruce Wayne had one."
Karen blinked as he accepted the device from Alfred and, with a mere flick, neatly snapped it. The front divorced the back, and the phone was rendered useless. If it were anybody else, she might have snorted. She'd seen different men do stupid things like that in the past. Because of course a tall, busty "redhead" was impressed by their strength and how much money they had to burn. Others, like Maxwell Lord, enjoyed making such theatrics to prove a point about "inferior products." But Batman…?
"Shall I organise a replacement?" she asked. Bruce didn't look up from the pieces of the phone he held, once again shifting components here and there.
"That depends," he hummed in that familiar timbre. But there was a definite hum in his voice that sounded like he found what he was looking for. A quiet "ah-ha" buried under the surface. A clue. "It's under warranty. But would I get the same model or your newer one?"
It was Karen's turn to scoff. "That was our newest one, Bruce," she said. But Batman seemed to anticipate this answer, and he held up a piece of tech from both gadgets in either hand. Two SoC chips. Both of them were stamped with the same SW signature from her company. But as she peered closer, the other one – the component from the transmitter near her building – was smaller. Slimmer. Just a fraction different near the edges.
Newer.
"This isn't our standard system-on-a-chip part," she said, carefully taking it from the Dark Knight's hand. She narrowed her eyes as she examined it. Recognition dawned on her. "This only just left R&D. It was greenlit for production two days ago."
"So, you've begun manufacturing off-site?" Batman asked. She turned it sideways, looking carefully with an array of microscopic visions for traces of a fingerprint. But neither smudge, nor oil, nor any hint appeared.
"We have facilities across the states, but only New York and Metropolis have had the schematics sent over." Karen made a face before carefully returning the component to the steel tray. A moment later she made a fist, tight enough to make the fibres of her glove strain under pressure. "This came from inside my company," she hissed. "In twenty-four hours, someone stole a piece of property and used it to try and kill me." Bruce nodded gravely. She should have known that he had already arrived at that deduction.
"The rest of these components could be salvaged from any cheap burner phone," he commented. "Most carry the Starrware stamp on them, however. How secure are the labs that develop these?"
"Before today, I'd have bet good money on it," she muttered bitterly.
"Someone's taken that one step further and bet Karen Starr's life on it," he remarked. "But you say the bomb was mostly contained to your office, and there was a delay in the time between when it entered and when it ignited. Long enough for Miss Stein to, potentially, get free. So that only yourself would have been caught. That implies an attacker with access to these components, as well as advanced programming experience and explosive knowledge. Somebody who wanted you and you alone."
"That doesn't make me feel better," Karen remarked. She pinched the bridge of her nose. Somebody in her own company tried to kill her. Somebody missed and sent poor Charlotte to the hospital. Someone who would most likely attempt it again.
"It's a lead, Kara," he reminded her. "And it narrows the field. All that's missing is a modus operandi. Can you think of anyone at Starrware who would bear a grudge against you? Anyone who you've recently demoted, or criticised?"
"No more than Bruce Wayne might," she said, immediately regretting it. She did, after all, come to him for help. But if she struck a cord, it didn't show. She even heard Alfred begun to chuckle behind them.
"Very amusing, Miss Starr," he murmured, appearing alongside them both. "According to The Daily Planet, Master Bruce doesn't do much work at all, these days. He's too busy gallivanting about with socialites for that."
"Ignore him," Bruce murmured, giving the older retainer a look. "He thinks he's funny..."
"Well, he's taking my mind off things," Karen defended, before turning and smiling politely at Alfred. "Thank you, Alfred."
"Oh, praise," he sighed. "I forgot what it sounded like, you know."
"Yes, Alfred – you're very amusing," Bruce muttered, pushing the table of components away and returning to the business at hand. "Don't encourage him. In the meantime, do you have any idea how Miss Stein is coping in the hospital?"
Karen shook her head. It struck her why she always held Bruce in high regard. It was true that he was often a business-first kind of man. But more than that, she didn't know of anybody who was as dedicated to taking care of the lesser fortunate than he was. If she had to guess how much money he willingly parted with in the past for different projects and charities, it would probably put her own fortune to shame.
"I don't know. I hovered outside the emergency room before flying over. She was still in surgery at the time. I haven't even checked my phone, yet. No doubt I've got police and insurance companies hounding me." Power Girl screwed her face up. It was getting easier for her to balance the dual-identity role. It was something that Batman himself helped her find her footing with. But for the time being…
"Bruce – I want these people. Not for what they've done to me, but for who they've hurt trying to do it. I don't care if it was an accident." Patiently, and with a look of calm understanding, Bruce nodded.
"They need to be stopped, definitely. What's your first step going to be?"
"Karen Starr will have to make a statement in the morning, no doubt," she said, wringing her hands. Public talking was something she had no issue with, but under the circumstances? "Whatever I say, I'll be letting my would-be assassin know that I'm still in one piece. And that if they want me, they'll have to try again."
"I'd recommend taking time off from your public identity, but that might just make for desperate attackers. I daresay you would want to present a strong image over the next few days, too."
"You know me well," she said with a bow of her head. But she was beating around the bush, and they both knew it. Throwing caution to the wind and biting her lip, she pressed: "I know it's short notice and you prefer to stick to Gotham, but I could use a detective on this one."
"Just say when and where," he answered immediately, and she felt herself perk.
"Really?" Part of Karen didn't think it would be so easy. He was Batman. His schedule was packed every day of the year. But all she saw was understanding – not the first she'd seen on Bruce's features – and she wondered how often his cowl disguised these glimpses of humanity.
"Whenever you're ready, say the word. Besides." The barest hint of a smirk appeared at the corner of his lips. "I can see the advantage of having Kara Zor-L owing me a favour some day."
She felt her mood improve all at once and Karen returned the smirk. "Am I about to get the infamous 'I'm in charge' talk for this little I.O.U.?"
"I said Power Girl – not Guy Gardner," he remarked. "Besides – Manhattan is your city. I'm the out-of-towner boy there."
Privately, she suspected he was just being humble. Batman may not be able to circle the globe as quickly as she or Kal could, but he spoke more than a dozen different languages and was, from what she heard, quite crafty with acting and disguises. She wouldn't be surprised if a few of her neighbours in Manhattan had a bat in their belfry at one time or another.
"Well, I appreciate the help, Bruce," she said earnestly. This was twice now, after helping with her public image when Starrware purchased a news station. But despite his massive network of information, she knew that Batman didn't keep a ledger of debts. She still never knew anyone in the Justice League who was so dedicated to fighting crime as he was – the mere mortal in the bat suit standing shoulder to shoulder with aliens and demigods.
"The sooner we move, the less time your attackers have to act. When do you plan to make an appearance?"
"In a few hours time, before the business day starts." It gave her more than enough time to fly back, change guises and check up on Charlotte's condition. And hopefully not be hounded by investigators over her disappearance since the explosion.
"I'll investigate the empty lot where you found the transmitter in the meantime. But I'd also like to look over the detonation site, too." He rose smoothly, and it struck her how quickly he moved from table to table, selecting so many golden cartridges (that weren't even marked) and applying them to a nearby utility belt. As far as she knew, he spent almost every evening on patrol in Gotham, always following a lead or keeping watch on problem areas.
"Aren't you tired…? I know you're not a real bat, Bruce, but still…" He had to sleep sometime, didn't he?
"I'll be fine," he said, and she believed it. There was a reason Kal called him the 'most dangerous man on Earth' – when Batman put his mind to something, it was as good as done. "As soon as you make your public appearance, your attacker will know what they may already suspect. They may even grow desperate if they think they're being investigated."
He was right, and they both knew it. Besides – now that Karen had brought him on board, she probably wouldn't even see him as he worked in the shadows when the time came. After all: Batman worked alone, right?
"Right," she simply said, rising from her chair. "Its time I got back to Manhattan and made preparations. But, thank you, Bruce. Again."
"It's no trouble at all," he said, turning his back on his work. Even without listening to his heartbeat of watching his pupils, she believed him. Nothing was ever too much for Batman, it seemed. Power Girl took to the air, pausing long enough to send a warm smile towards the waiting butler.
"And thank you for the tea, too," she told him, pleased with the friendly smile and bow of the head he offered in return.
"Any time at all, Miss Starr," he promised. And then she took off, winding through the network of narrow tunnels and caverns that she utilised to enter. Soon enough she had shot through the Miagani waterfalls and climbed into the sky, speeding back towards New York.
"I rather like her," Alfred said after she had left. "So polite and cultured. She recognised the pattern on the China, you know." He gave Bruce a sideways look. The last time he brought out the best crockery for a guest in the cave, Barry Allen had commented that it didn't hold much tea at all. After drinking it all in a flurry, straight from the spout.
"You're never going to let that go, are you?" Bruce asked.
"Not in this lifetime, sir, no. In the meantime, I shall prepare a change of clothing. Batman in New York. How extraordinary."