When flesh hits a brick wall three distinct sounds can be heard simultaneously: a slap, a thunk, and a crack. Cassandra Cain, Batwoman, would never tire of the music. She could feel the body shaking under her tight grip, whether he was quivering with pain or fear, she didn't know and frankly didn't care. "Where is he hiding?"
The thug's glare lost most of its intimidation because of the blood streaming from his temple thanks to his recent introduction to a Mr. Brick Wall. "Which he?"
Cassie forced his head into the wall again, vaguely wondering how head trauma would help jog memory. She remained silent waiting for him to talk. He just looked dizzy for a moment then focused back onto her, glaring. "I ain't telling you shit!"
Cassie gave her own glare. Before she could try and jog his memory again Barbara's voice was in her ear, "I've got a murder for you to check out."
She couldn't protest in front of the henchman, but waited for a better explanation. This new Riddler's crime spree had already lasted five days. Batwoman would not let it go on for another five and finding one of his henchmen in a bar was her only break so far. Surely, Oracle didn't just expect her to just drop everything. "It's urgent."
Apparently, the Oracle expected just that. Batwoman glared at the prey she was loathe to let loose. "Cassie, Bruce insists."
Cassie sighed inwardly. For all the talk of passing on the mantle, Bruce was still firmly in charge and not likely to relinquish his control anytime soon. The trump card played, Cassie grunted her affirmation. She dropped the man, and growled, "This isn't over." She was gone by the time he managed to get back on his feet.
Batwoman looked down on the scene, watching the multi-colored strobe lights of police cars from her place in the dark. "Cops are already here."
"I know. Bruce wants you to check it out anyway."
Cassie grunted. Batman may not be running across rooftops anymore, but he still fought crime every night. "Don't see the point."
Cassie moved to leave. Bruce, or no, this was a waste of her night; she had a Riddler to find. "Cass, a girl walked in and found her parents' corpses."
Cassie stopped. No wonder Bruce wanted her here so badly, another orphan made from the crime of Gotham. She kept to the shadows but changed positions in order to get a better look at what was happening.
She scanned the faces of the gathered mob of police and press. She recognized a few of the press members, including Vicki Vale's infamous daughter Gina. Gina's fame came from exposing the secret identity of the minor superhero Cardinal last year. He died two months later shopping for groceries. Word was she now had her sights set higher, causing panic among the superheroes, past and present. Those who knew the connection between Batman and Vicki Vale worried most, but Cassie suspected if Vicki ever shared the identity of Batman with her precious daughter, the world would know. Right now she was badgering some cop to give her tomorrow's headline. Upon closer inspection Cassie was surprised to find that it was just some cop.
The cop was another familiar face, the new police commissioner Ethan Grant. With the corruption of the past three commissioners, the mayor decided it was time for some new blood. Most of Grant's experience was gained in London, only moving to Gotham in the past year, acting as commissioner for about a month. Between past commissioner's actions, his lack of experience in Gotham and breaking the record for youngest commissioner Gotham history in the past 50 years, Grant had a lot to prove in a short amount of time. Cassie heard him tell Miss Vale that he had no comment at this time. Once he was out of earshot he yelled at his men to clear the house and keep the reporters back.
Perhaps Cassie had misjudged the importance of this murder since both Bruce and Ethan thought their presence necessary. She snuck in an upstairs window in order to get a look at the crime scene herself.
The room she ended up in was a teenaged girl's bedroom based on the lime green walls, purple bedspread and the posters of recent popular bands. Spotting the wall of trophies, medals, ribbons, and certificates Cassie changed her assessment to an accomplished teenaged girl's room. She silently made her way down the stairs.
She looked in on the crime scene. A few cops lingered but she didn't spot the man in charge, so she moved on, mentally taking in the positions in chalk and the message on the wall. She found him in the kitchen with a girl, older than Cassie was expecting. The girl, who Cassie presumed was the daughter, was leaning against the counter edge sipping out of a thermos, looking at the kitchen floor tile. Ethan looked like a detective straight out of a movie, wearing a tan trench coat and taking notes on a small note pad. "I realize you have been through a lot today, Miss Troy, but I have a few questions for you."
Miss Troy set down her thermos in a fluid motion. "Let me save you some time, Officer…"
"Commissioner." He looked up as if just realized he corrected her. "Ethan Grant."
"Commissioner Grant. No, I don't know who would have done this. My parents' enemies consisted of the Millers next door who mom suspected stole their morning paper and the guy at work that dad beat out for a promotion. Neither are the killing types. I would assume the you referred to in the message is me, but I have no idea what that means either. Yes this is tragic and shocking and I thank you for your sympathies. Now, is that all?"
The girl's cool reaction was strange, and since Ethan looked content just to look dumbfounded, his pencil not moving. Cassie decided it was time to make her presence known. "You don't seem all that upset about your parents' deaths."
Ethan jumped, dropping his pencil, but Batwoman's sudden appearance didn't faze the girl at all. She just picked up her thermos, drinking from it again, still not looking up. "I'm sorry I didn't realize there was a certain way to act when a kid discovers her dead parents and a message in blood. Should I start crying?"
Ethan snapped up from retrieving his pencil. "That won't be necessary, Miss Troy. People deal with death in different ways. I think you've been through enough tonight." He put his notepad and pencil away and handed her a card. "Here's my card, we'll be in touch." His voice softened losing the official tone and he leaned in. "Do have some place to stay tonight, any other family?"
She bit her lip. "No family, I'm alone now." She paused, keeping her eyes hidden. "I could use a ride back to my apartment though."
"I'll get one of my men on it, and I am keeping him stationed there overnight." He called for someone on his radio, and then whispered to the man that entered the room. Batwoman's eyes didn't leave the girl who was studying the card in her hand.
"Miss Troy, this is officer Dan Rox. He'll be your escort tonight."
Miss Troy took a final drink out her thermos. She turned around rinsing it out and leaving it in the sink with the other unwashed dishes. She turned back, revealing deep blue eyes. "Thank you, Commissioner Grant." With that she exited with Officer Rox.
Now that they were alone Ethan turned to Batwoman. "I appreciate the fact that this is Gotham and you are a hero with bat in your name so I must work with you, but you need to stop sneaking up on me like that."
Cassandra said nothing. She moved over to the sink, studying the thermos the daughter left behind. "Think the daughter did it?"
"No. She barely spoke at all, and only referred to her parents as nice people. I checked her parent's finical situation before I got down here. They were living paycheck to paycheck and their life insurance will leave her with just enough to pay off the funeral and perhaps another month's worth of payments on the cars and house. She has nothing to gain from their deaths. And there's the matter of the message. More fucking riddles."
Ethan's first priority had been catching the Riddler before this as well. Cassie nodded. She'd been dealing with riddles for nearly a week, the last thing she needed was another cryptic message. "What makes the Troys so special as to warrant your personal attention?"
He sighed and started walking back to the crime scene. "As sad as it is, the media attention. All those reporters out there would say the city isn't doing enough to keep Gotham safe and if I hadn't shown up they would comment on my absence as well." That made sense. Cassie was relived that her brand of crime fighting didn't come with politics. "As for the Troys themselves, father was an accountant. Mother was a teacher. The daughter is the most fascinating member of the family."
"Why?"
He pulled out his notepad again. "She qualified for the Olympics a couple years back but turned it down. Still keeps up with the gymnastics though. Bright girl, she's studying to be a doctor. Had a few run-ins with the law, speeding tickets and a couple of fights. More interesting then her law-abiding, tax-paying parents, but nothing to reveal why someone would send that strong of a message to her."
I know who you are, bright red and impossible to miss. If only Batwoman knew as well. The room was cleared. Batwoman walked up to the message. It was handwritten; she could see the groves of fingers. DNA and fingerprints would have to be checked.
She moved on to studying the placement of the bodies. Ethan answered her unasked questions. "The killer used a knife. The mother was facing up, throat slit. The father was face down; his wound was in the gut, intestines only kept in by his position. Had a hell of a time trying to get him out of here without spilling him all over the place. Messy business."
"What were their names?"
Ethan referred back to his notepad. "Chet and June Troy, parents to Helena."
Cassie's stomach clenched at the name, thinking of another Helena. The commissioner didn't notice, his attention taken by his radio. By the time his attention returned to Batwoman, she was gone.