Gordon:
I've been reviewing Asylum security footage from the other night, with little luck. There's a split second around midnight where a red-haired woman comes into frame, then after that it's only the audio feed. Ran the voice through the system and there was no match.
Additionally, I found this in an apartment in the Narrows, scattered among hundreds of other papers… sketches and diary entries like this, mostly.
Name on the lease is Louis Ciffer—obviously a pseudonym. Landlord couldn't offer a description of the tenant, but mentioned they were late on this month's rent and always paid in cash.
I think you should take a look at this regardless: I'm almost positive it's related to the incident at Arkham.
-Batman
A name.
A name to go with a face... a face the world may never know.
(A name is then needless)
The world will only know through interference.
Shaking things up, stirring up the pot. Disruption to command attention.
Force a change. Explode the archetype.
Incite a paradigm shift.
Bring Gotham to her knobby, scuffed-up knees.
Without being a revolutionary, I can be a crusader. Though not a Caped Crusader… things tend to snag.
These people and their diseases.
What a wonderful world of woe they weave.
Every little black spot has its own befitting title so the big black bat can put them in rack and file.
So the winged freak can put them in Arkham, Blackgate, sort them by name and codename and date of birth and biological sex and species…
The wild card, Joker. The straw man, Scarecrow. The house divided, Two-Face.
Tea parties with the Mad Hatter. Flower arranging classes with Poison Ivy.
Twenty questions with The Riddler. Bodybuilding with Bane.
Count, compare and contrast every meaningful scar with Zsasz. Such discussions to be had on scarring.
I'm going to scarify this city. Leave not just my mark, but a whole slue of marks in pretty little permanent patterns.
Fragment this precious status quo… the pseudo-law and semi-order Gotham's finest work so bloody hard to upkeep.
Raise a second Roman Empire with the remnants of the Falcone clan.
Shakedown the shareholders of Wayne Enterprises.
Wreck every racket being run.
Kill the umpire!
Make a difference, be noticed, be heard, be researched for decades to come!
Spawn copycats, inspire a social movement. Have a whole merry band of neo-futurists and lead a post-modern parade through post-apocalyptic Gotham streets!
Years away they'll be clamoring to interview the girl who finally wiped that stupid, smug smile off of Gotham's smarmy face.
Who wiped Gotham off the face of the map and rebuilt her as a dynamic utopia.
A name. That's what the people remember. Killer Moth, Calendar Man, Tweedledum and Tweedledee… the whole jolly lot.
The people will remember Fracture.