Alfred's steps were quiet but firm. He was holding a silver tray with classic English breakfast and fresh coffee. A thick matte glass door to a big but pretty dark room was slightly open. Alfred pushed it with his elbow and walked inside.
-Master Bruce, it's nine in the morning but in your room it is still a midnight. - he put tray on the dining table and walked to enormously big semi-circular windows of Wayne's penthouse and pulled heavy dark curtains.
Gloomy light drew a bright scratch from the window to the middle of the room to the wall. Dust was floating in the light.
-What a splendid dust cloud you have, Master Bruce. Perhaps, you would like to have a walk outside of the room after your breakfast while I manage to air out this dusty box you call an office?
-No. - the answer came from the far corner of the room where light could reach.
-Perhaps some breakfast then?
-No. But I'll take a cup of coffee.
-It's yours fifth from last night and eleventh from the night before, Sir. Would you like to eat anything?
-No.
Alfred walked to the tray picked up a cup of coffee and walked to the desk with three monitors on different levels and mountain of papers and special devices.
-Sir. I must say you violate all rules of nutrition and a sleeping schedule. You go outside every night then come home and dive into your computers. I would highly recommend…
-Alfred. I am not a child anymore. - Bruce Wayne took a coffee cup from old but strong hands of his butler.
-At least let me help you, Sir.
Bruce sipped on coffee closed his red eyes and leaned back in a big comfortable desk chair.
-I … I think I could use your advice, Alfred. - keeping his eyes closed said Bruce. - I have a choice to make. I can solve "murders with notes" but in exchange I have to … -Bruce made a deep breath. - I have to basically share may tools if I may say so.
It was quiet in the room for couple seconds, Alfred was politely waiting if Bruce Wayne was about to continue but the owner of Wayne corporation was still silent in his chair.
-I have a story for you Master Bruce. When I was young I was in the military and got sent off to India to fight a rebellion. Our battalion stayed in deep jungles trying to track the rebels who were supposed to hide somewhere in those jungles. We had a small village next to us and nothing more for miles and miles only deadly jungles. Once, the head of that village came to our commander and asked to share weapons because they thought rebels may attack the village soon enough. He promised to help and fight on our side if rebels come to us first and he promised to supply our battalion with food. My commander said no to the man. The same night the village got burned down to the ground by rebels everyone was killed and provision was taken away.
—Hmmm… -said Bruce Wayne. - You have a point, Alfred. Thank you. Now, I would like to stay alone, please.
-As you wish, Sir. - Alfred walked back to the silver tray.
-I will eat breakfast, Alfred. - said Bruce standing up from his chair.
-Very well, Sir. Would you like a fresh newspaper? I think it just got delivered.
-Sure. Let's see what happened in the City of Gotham.
News were practically the same as usual… but Bruce exhaled calmly because there was no news about any new "murder with note". That was the name the police gave to the chain of murders what were happening in Gotham every two-three weeks. Bruce knew soon was going to be a new murder but he still got no clues where and who. It's been almost three weeks since last murder and the total now was ten. It had been almost a year of unsolved mystery of notes the killer left every time he committed a murder. He pinned the notes to the dead bodies and they contained message encrypted in symbols or characters. But the main thing of this killer was that he didn't want police read them because he didn't leave any clues to what was in those messages.
Bruce day after day, month after month was trying to find clues, tried to solve the symbols, he researched every possible ancient language and manuscripts but find nothing. Until two days ago when just like that he met a woman who not only knew a man who did killings but also could read notes. All she asked in return to give her tools and gear to protect herself while she was protecting people from small crimes. Bruce acknowledged the fact that Batman couldn't be everywhere and was concentrated mostly on big crime now. Bruce remembered his first steps into the night when he decided to fight crime. He was just there in the city looking for troublemakers who bothered ordinary people. And now he was The Batman fear of Gotham and the Dark Knight who protects everyone, but was he? Was he protecting everyone? Maybe, just maybe that woman was right he fought big fish and there was no time for small but still dangerous piranhas.
Bruce put the paper down finished his cold breakfast and by the last bite of bacon he knew what he must do.