BREAKING NEWS
VESPER FAIRCHILD MURDERED AT WAYNE TOWER
"Sources have just revealed that the victim of the Wayne Tower murder is none other than WGKX's own, Vesper Fairchild!" Jerri Prudence exclaimed.
"I, for one, am devastated, devastated, to learn about Vesper. This is truly heartbreaking. I…I am besides myself, so please, everyone watching at home, be understanding if we cannot continue this broadcast."
She paused to sigh. "I…to bring full disclosure, Vesper and I knew one another. I would even go so far as to say that we are friends. This is really, really…just overwhelming." She paused again. "To my audience, according to our sources, Vesper was found in the office of Bruce Wayne this morning. Mr. Wayne was the one to find her and call 911, but unfortunately there was little anyone could do for Vesper. Police have cordoned Mr. Wayne's office in the effort to find the sick bastard that did this. Our thoughts and prayers are with the Fairchild family for their loss."
Jerri looked off-screen for a second, two seconds. "It is a sad day when journalists and reporters are being killed, murdered in this manner. Vesper was one of our finest reporters, hosting her own radio show and writing a column multiple times a week. I know I for one will miss her dearly.
"But the fact remains that the press is under attack in this country. We have been vilified and we have been harassed over these last few years, in ways that have never been seen before. It was only a matter of time before some sicko decided to take it one step too far and this, this is the result.
"What message do you think this sends? When this country has school shootings every week, it's only a matter of time before you can replace school with reporter. What we need is for our police to find this—pardon my words—son of a bitch and give them the same treatment they have been giving minorities. If there was ever someone that deserved to experience police brutality, it's this animal.
"That's right, I said animal. Because anyone who is depraved enough to do something like this isn't a person. They are a monster and one that should be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
"We will be going to commercial break, but when we come back, our panel will touch upon this and more on the Jerri Prudence Hour."
It wasn't much, but it was certainly a start.
Security footage from Wayne Enterprises had been obtained and Allen was currently reviewing them with Montoya. There were hours of footage, but most interesting was at around three in the morning.
Like any business, Wayne Enterprises was supposed to be locked down after hours. A security guard had done just that around eleven at night and every so often you would see a guard doing patrols. Just after three, however, the door to Wayne Tower opened and two people strolled in.
Obviously they had a key, because again, the night watchman had locked things up hours earlier. Only certain individuals would have that key. The two individuals walked from the doors to the elevator, stood there waiting until the elevator doors opened and they boarded.
First impression: both were wearing long coats. Allen jotted down a note to have someone check Wayne's office for the same coats, or if any had been obtained during the initial investigation. They also wore hats, which helped keep their faces indistinguishable. Even zooming in on them caused the pixels to granulate, hiding any distinguishing features.
One of them was taller, broad shoulders, definitely a man. The other was smaller, thinner, possibly a woman. Again, the footage wouldn't allow a good look at the second person's feet so they couldn't determine if they were wearing heels.
"Was Fairchild wearing heels?" Allen asked as he stared at the television screen.
The detectives were sitting behind a table, which was covered in photos and papers. A lot of it was their notes, but the photos were helping to give them an idea of what the crime scene looked like. Montoya searched the makeshift map they had made with the photos, looking specifically for Fairchild. "Yeah, she was," she reported as she picked up a picture, one taken from the vic's feet, showing the office doors in the background. Allen glanced over to the pic and saw she did have heels on.
"So we have a possible man and woman enter Wayne Enterprises at three in the morning." About thirty minutes later, the security feed for Wayne's office and reception area go black. Minutes later, the entire building loses it. So we're completely black from this time all the way to our arrival on the scene."
"We do have footage of the two entering Wayne's office," Montoya said. There were three television sets in the room so that they could view multiple cameras at the same time. Of course, they could only view one camera on one television at a time, so it slowed their viewing process considerably. Thankfully, the rightmost television was of the camera outside of Wayne's office. As Montoya pointed out, the same two people appeared, walked right up to Wayne's office, and entered it. It was shortly after that the feed went dark.
Allen paused the footage and rewound it. He only stopped when he had a good picture of the couple. He looked specifically at the woman's feet…yeah, there were high heels. Taking the picture of the vic's body from Montoya, he held it up, trying to see if he could match the shoes in the photo with the one on screen.
It was close, but he was willing to believe they were a match. So the woman in this footage was Fairchild. She had been led specifically to Wayne's office, by the man that most likely killed her.
Now it was his job to figure out who this mystery man was.
It was clear that whoever it was, they had access not only to Wayne Tower, but Bruce Wayne's office. That made their list so much shorter. Unfortunately, the coat and hat combo did too good of a job at hiding the man's identity, not to mention the dim lighting that was used to save money on the electric bill. That lighting was casting too many shadows, so a positive ID on the security footage was incredibly difficult.
"You want to go over the timeline again?" Montoya asked.
"Yeah, now that we've got a starting point," Allen agreed. "So, three o' clock, Fairchild and her mystery man enter Wayne Enterprises. They head right for Wayne's office."
"Allegedly," Montoya added.
Allen gave her a look. "Allegedly," he repeated.
"The sabotage to the security feeds could have happened between the arrival at the front door and the office. If this suspect," at this she pointed at the television with the couple frozen on screen, "is part of the Wayne security team, he could have made some excuse to check in at the security office and did the tampering then."
That was a good point. "You could even expand that to every employee," he observed. "So our couple arrives, gets on the elevator, goes to see security to 'check in' and tampers with the feed. There must have been a delay in the feed going off since we have footage of the two entering Wayne's office."
"Which shows that the suspect—if that is indeed him—doesn't know how to operate security's computer system. Or if they did, they put it on a timer and seriously misjudged how long it would take to actually get to the office."
"Which leads credence to the idea that the suspect doesn't know what they're doing—and also that this was all planned out beforehand."
"It does look that way," Montoya agreed.
"So the couple arrives in Wayne's office. They get into an argument. Fairchild pulls out her phone to record the argument and has it knocked out of her hand. She runs to hide in the bathroom and the suspect kicks it down. He smashes her face against the mirror before tossing her around the office."
Both detectives then looked down to a tape recorder sitting on the table in the middle of all the photographs and papers. Allen had been on the beat for awhile and even that recording he heard had sent chills down his spine. "The recording app…catches Fairchild's last words and then the suspect shoots her. He then leaves her there until Wayne finds her in his office."
After reviewing all that, Allen was certain this was all planned, and not some random fit of violence. And now he had a growing suspicion on just who that man was on the security footage. They needed access to Wayne Tower; they needed access to the security booth; they needed access to Wayne's office. The number of people with that access was a handful.
More likely less than that.
The door to the office the detectives were using suddenly flung open. Allen immediately recognized the person entering as Hardy with Forensics. He was a supervisor, or something, but he basically ran the day-to-day operations of the lab.
"I hope you two were good this year because Christmas came early," Hardy announced. He stopped by their table and held out a folder. "We got a match for that gun you found."
Allen snatched the file from Hardy and opened it, finding a measly couple of pages inside, but they might as well have been golden sheets.
Hardy rattled off the folder's contents even as Allen read it. "What you have is a .45 ACP Colt Commander Gold Cup edition. Made for shooting competitions the world-wide. This one in particular had a custom grip modification."
Hardy either memorized this report sheet, or he knew his guns. Allen really didn't care as he found the registration. The Forensic supervisor had impeccable timing as he added, "And you won't believe this, but it is registered to a Thomas Wayne."
"Thomas Wayne, as in father to Bruce Wayne?" Allen questioned as he tore his eyes from the sheet and looked back at the tech.
"The one and the same."
"So our suspect has access to Wayne Tower, the security booth, and Wayne's office. He also has a gun registered to Thomas Wayne," Montoya surmised.
"And Thomas Wayne is dead," Allen interjected. "Meaning the gun would have passed down to the next—and only—kin."
It was frozen in time. A horrific scene that was being preserved to ensure that the perpetrator was found and justice served.
No matter how this ended, he was going to need a new office.
Batman stood next to the taped outline that indicated where Vesper had been laying. Dried blood stained the floor, dulling from a bright red to a dull maroon. The scattered papers had at least been cleaned up, small number placards left behind to indicate where something had been discovered.
The vigilante just stared at the outline. There was a sense of melancholy, he felt. He admittingly didn't have the best relationship with Vesper, but he never wanted this for her. He didn't want this for anyone.
However, she was now forever associated with a crime, and he would do his damnedest to find who did it. First, he needed to check his office to see if anything was missing. Drawing away from the outline, he began turning around in a circle. He wanted the cameras in his lenses to record everything. Once that was done, he began the physical search. Starting at the sitting areas, he scanned for anything out of place, anything missing. Aside from the furniture being turned over, there wasn't anything noteworthy. Even the liquor cabinet had been left alone, miraculously the only thing that hadn't been disturbed. To be thorough, he opened the cabinet and checked it, finding nothing out of the ordinary.
Next, he headed for the desk. Everything save for the computer had been knocked off of it, as if someone had been thrown across it. That was likely what happened seeing as the lamp, the phone, and other things were still lying on the floor in front of the desk. The scattered papers had come from here too.
Taking a seat in his chair, Batman began opening drawers. Again, he found nothing out of place, just office supplies. So he turned his attention to the computer. Turning it on, he was about to enter his log-in information when he paused. No doubt IT was keeping an eye out for unusual things, so if they saw Bruce Wayne logging into the system from his office after hours…well, that would raise some questions he didn't want to answer. No, he would need to go about this a different, yet familiar way.
It was an odd thing having to hack his own computer. Using the hacking program he used on Max Shreck's computer, he got access and began a quick search, looking into the history logs. The last entries were of ones he had made the previous day. No other entries had been made since.
At least, that was the impression being given. He then checked to see if anything had been deleted from the history and found nothing. No searches, no cover ups, nothing.
Batman backed out of the search. So far, it seemed the primary motive was the killing of Vesper. His computer, which would be a prize for anyone wanting a look into Wayne Enterprises, had been left untouched. There were no signs of an irregular access; he'd need to check what IT found if there had been a hack from an external source. So far, corporate espionage was not looking to be a factor.
So why was Vesper killed? And why was she killed in his office specifically?
Deciding to check the trash can icon on his computer, he checked for anything recently deleted and found something. The last entry was from a file—a computerized calendar. Batman frowned. He didn't recall this.
Clicking on the entry, a window opened, revealing a calendar. It was of the current month with multiple entries on it. Hovering the mouse arrow over one of the entries, he saw one of them was for a meeting he had earlier in the month. Checking others, he found similar entries. In fact, if he wasn't mistaken, he had attended all of these.
That was when he checked the previous day's entry. He saw one for the gala. That wasn't surprising. After that, however…
Since when did I have a meeting with Vesper?
There was a scheduled meeting with Vesper for after the gala. He didn't remember that. It was possible he had made the entry when Vesper volunteered to be his date, but he would have lumped it in the gala entry. At least, that's what he thought he did.
So why has this been deleted?
This was becoming stranger and stranger the further he investigated. Standing up, Batman looked around and saw the office bathroom door was opened. The frame had damage to it as well, so he headed over there. Once there, he knelt down and studied the damage to the frame. Someone had hit the door quite hard, most likely trying to get entry in. Glancing up, he saw the broken mirror. At both the door frame and the mirror, there were number placards.
There was also one on top of the toilet, a curious place for that. One was even in the shower. Standing up, Batman moved to the toilet, looking into the bowel and seeing nothing but water. He then lifted the lid of the tank, finding the flushing mechanism and water in there.
Placing the lid back down, Batman left the bathroom. Something felt like it was missing. He could feel it in his gut. While there weren't any signs of theft, nothing seemed to be adding up. The location was wrong. Why lure a person to a business office to kill them? Why did the perpetrator want Vesper here?
Something about this wasn't right.
What was he missing?
No, not what he was missing; what had been taken. As he caught sight of the numbered placards, no doubt the police had confiscated anything and everything they thought could help them solve this case. They very well could have taken the very clue he was looking for, either knowing or unknowingly.
Which meant he needed to find out what was going on in the GCPD investigation. That might be more difficult than it used to be. With the retirement of Jim Gordon, his ties to the police department weren't the same. He hadn't had a meeting with the new Commissioner, Sawyer. There had been a noticeable decrease in the use of the Bat Signal. Though, considering there had been planet-wide crises recently, perhaps there was a good reason for that. Also, his interactions with Sawyer had been minimal to begin with. It was like he was starting over with the department.
At the very least, the police weren't shooting at him this go-around.
It wouldn't be the first time he snuck into the GCPD to get intel. It had been awhile, but he still had the old janitor disguise. He'd have to knock off some dust, but it would be serviceable.
Absently, his eyes returned to the outline on his floor. The very sight of it was just wrong. He was going to find whoever did this and make certain they paid for it.
It seemed the police had already been here. The apartment looked messy, as if someone, or someones, had been searching the place recently.
Climbing through a window, Batgirl entered the apartment of Vesper Fairchild, the murder victim found in Wayne Enterprises. She came in silently, hardly making a wisp of sound.
The same could not be said for her…teammates.
Like a herd of elephants, Bluebird and Spoiler followed her in, their bodies knocking against the window frame, their feet seemingly pounding on the floor as they stood on their feet. Batgirl was certain she was being paranoid, but she couldn't help the annoyance she felt.
"Spread out," she spoke softly. If the GCPD kept anyone out in the hallway to make certain no one trespassed into Fairchild's apartment, she didn't want them hearing her. "We need to find anything that would explain Fairchild's murder."
To the girls' credit, they just nodded their heads before spreading out. Spoiler headed for the bedroom, disappearing into it. Bluebird automatically headed for her computer, taking a seat at the desk it sat on, and turned it on.
As for Batgirl, she searched the main room and kitchen. Aside from the fact it looked lived in, she didn't find much. The kitchen was stocked with food, dinnerware, and kitchenware. Nothing out of the ordinary there. She did make certain nothing was being hidden there, but found nothing. In the main room, there was a coffee table surrounded by a couch and chairs, a television positioned so that all could see it. She checked the cushions of the couch and chairs and again found nothing.
Spotting a closet door, she opened it, finding it stuffed with junk. There was a vacuum cleaner, a rack with several jackets hanging from it, and a few boxes. Pulling out the boxes, Batgirl knelt down and opened them one-by-one.
One box was filled with what looked like awards. She found a few plaques congratulating her on some awards she had never heard of. She'd do a search on them later to make certain they were legit. There were some papers too, though a cursory glance through them didn't reveal anything too alarming.
Going through the other boxes, it became quite clear there was nothing of substance here. So she shoved the boxes back into the storage closet and closed the door. By the time she was done with that, Spoiler was coming out of the bedroom.
"This woman has a crap ton of shoes," she reported. "Real nice ones too. She definitely has an eye for quality."
"Thinking of taking some for your own collection?" Bluebird quipped as she typed on the keyboard.
"Of course not. That would be way too Addams Family."
Batgirl wasn't sure who this Addams Family was, but it wasn't relevant, and it was causing these two to talk way too much. Jerking a hand up, she held a finger in front of her mouth, the universal gesture to be quiet.
Apparently neither of these girls knew what it meant. "Anyone have an idea what this lady's password is?" Bluebird called out.
"Shhhhhhh!" Batgirl hissed, finally getting their attention. "We don't want to be heard," she reprimanded them.
Bluebird just stared at her before she impatiently gestured to the computer. There was a scowl on her face, the response of a petulant child. Batgirl had to resist the urge to grumble. She should have known not to include these two on such an important assignment. This was partly her fault.
Walking up to the desk, she peered at the computer and saw the password request. Reaching to her belt, she pulled out a flashdrive, one with some sort of hacking program Batman liked to use. Shoving it into the USB port, she let it do its job. In a matter of moments, asterisks began appearing in the code line for the password.
Then the screen changed and they were on the computer's desktop, icons littering it. "I really need to get me one of those," Bluebird muttered before she opened a menu and got to work.
Spoiler then walked up to them and stood there waiting patiently. Batgirl just raised a hand up and pointed at her eyes, then made a wide circle with that same hand, silently telling the lavender-clad girl to do her own search of the main room. Spoiler thankfully nodded and got to work.
The idea behind that was perhaps Spoiler would find something she missed, as unlikely as that was. In the meantime, Batgirl headed to the bedroom to do the same thing. She found the bed completely made, stacked with a mountain of decorative pillows. She wasn't sure what the purpose was for that, but she did check under each and every pillow in case there was something hidden beneath them. There wasn't.
She then checked the walk-in closet and saw exactly what Spoiler had meant. Half of the floor was covered with shoes of every kind. That…that was a lot.
And much like the coats in the storage closet, this one was crammed with all sorts of clothes. It was clear Fairchild never threw anything out. While a hoarder was great when it came to collecting evidence, it was shifting through the sheer amount that was a pain in the butt. She had been trained to do so, so she inspected everything.
A soft knock on the closet door got her attention. Jerking her head around, she found Spoiler standing there. "Bluebird wants to show us something," she whispered.
Nodding, Batgirl followed the girl back into the main room and came to stand behind the blue-haired girl. Bluebird just looked up at her expectantly.
It took a moment for Batgirl to realize what was going on. "Lose the attitude," she warned. "If you want to do more investigating, you need to be professional."
"Sorry for not being professional," Bluebird grumbled.
Batgirl placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. "I can disband this group any time I want. I will have Batman's blessing to do so. Do not make me regret reforming the Batclan. Now, show me what you found."
There was no time for petulance, not that there was ever time for it. The sooner Bluebird learned this, the better. She wanted to be out on the streets doing vigilante work, but she needed to learn it was more than just punching people. If she wasn't up for what was expected of her, then she would need to find someone else to babysit her.
Bluebird stared at her before she said, "I found a lot of stuff here. This Fairchild lady likes to keep busy. It's going to take a long time for us to sift through all of it."
"Then make a copy of it and we'll have the computer at the base go through it."
"Doing that already." At this, Bluebird held a hand to a portable harddrive that was connected to a second USB port. "But that isn't what I wanted to show you." She then pointed to the screen. "I found this in her deleted files."
Batgirl looked at the screen and she found what was best described as a series of digital journal entries. One of them was open and one of the first words she spotted was Batman.
I knew going into this that this wasn't going to be easy. What was I thinking looking into the Batman?
Fairchild was looking into Batman? Why?
Why else? Any reporter would love to have a story on Batman, who he is, why he does what he does. There were already countless stories that had theories, but nothing proven. Completely subjective pieces that either made her laugh, or want to go pay a visit to the writer and make them stutter on how they came to their ridiculous theory.
He's been around since forever. He practically has urban legend copyrighted, but he's very real. His membership with the Justice League proves that.
But what makes a Batman? He has to have resources most people couldn't imagine. That takes a lot of money, money that only a wealthy person could have. While I have my doubts considering many of Gotham's socialites have connections to the Court of Owls, that does limit the number of people it could be.
Batgirl didn't like where this was going. "Copy these too," she ordered. "I'll look into these personally."
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Bluebird and Spoiler sharing a look. She wasn't certain as to the reason for it, but she didn't care. If this journal entry was going where she thought it was going, then she needed to make certain the words Bruce Wayne and Batman weren't shared specifically.
That wouldn't be a good thing to put it mildly.
