Dressed in regular clothing Bruce sat at his large computer down in the Batcave. Alfred tidied up nearby while the hero looked over the card Riddler had dropped.
“A dwelling in the daylight hours,” he said to himself as he read the riddle.
“Simple, clean and bright.
But under moonlight comes the transformation fast--
So be sure to bring some silver
When you visit in the night,
If you hope to enter through my doors, and last.”
“A building that transforms at night,” Bruce continued.
“Perhaps… a warehouse sir?” Alfred suggested.
“A warehouse?”
“Indeed, a house, but one that transforms under moonlight, like the werewolf of traditional myth,” Alfred answered.
“It fits,” Bruce nodded. “But which one? There must be dozens, if not hundreds of warehouses in Gotham alone.” He turned over the card, the riddle having been written on the back of a business card for a bakery called ‘The Baker’s Dozen’. Bruce fell silent, deep in thought as he began typing on the keyboard before him, a list of addresses appearing on the screen. The bakery leading Bruce to a foodservice company, which led to a trucking company that led to, “Warehouse number thirteen at Dixon Docks, currently rented out to the Enigma Corporation. Interesting.”
Bruce typed a bit more, the information on the screen changing. “Enigma Corporation. Owned by Edward Nigma. America’s number one company in production of riddle-based books, toys, games, and puzzles.”
“It does indeed sound like our ‘Riddler’ may be connected to this company, Master Bruce,” Alfred commented from where he was currently dusting.
“It does indeed,” Bruce nodded, repeating Alfred’s words. “I think perhaps I should go check this out.”
“I take it that means I will only be setting the table for one tonight then,” Alfred said as he noticed Bruce already stand up and move to where his costumes were kept.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Anyway to get to my reason for coming here,” Carrie told Jervis as she finished her drink, the two having spent most of the last hour making small talk, “I’m a bit of a mountain climber. And I was wondering what kind of equipment WayneTech makes for such a thing. Lines, hooks, protective suits, that kind of thing.”
Jervis nodded as he listened to Carrie speak, sipping his tea. “We do have some stuff in that area,” Tetch told her. “But there are certainly stores and other places that could help you as well.”
“Yeah, but with Bruce taking me in and all, it’d feel weird going to a ‘competitor’, and I figure if I want the best, you’re the man to talk to.”
Jervis grinned at that. “Thank you,” he replied, modestly. “Let’s take a stroll and I’ll show you what we have.”
* * * * * * * * * *
Batman didn’t make a sound as he swung onto the roof of warehouse number thirteen. The darkly clad hero moved quietly to a skylight in the building and looked down into the gloom. Taking something from his utility belt, he pressed it against the window’s lock. A short, small burst of light filling the immediate area. With the lock now destroyed, Batman lifted the window and slowly lowered himself into the darkness.
Batman landed on a catwalk and then turned on the night vision in his cowl, looking around the empty warehouse. Noticing a light on in the building’s office he moved toward it. Batman was about halfway across the catwalk before it suddenly gave out beneath him, dropping him into the emptiness below.
He landed on a metal floor with a clang, as half a dozen spotlights came on, all shining at him. When his eyes finally adjusted from the sudden brilliance several seconds later, he found himself inside a metal cage, similar to a shark cage and standing on a walkway about ten feet away stood the Riddler.
“Greetings Batman,” Riddler said with a bow, looking at a pocket watch. “Although I expected you a few hours ago,” he added, snapping the watch closed.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Of course this is our most well armored suit,” Tetch explained, showing the vest to Carrie. “Strong enough to stop all but the most powerful of hand weapons, while still fairly light and flexible. You certainly won’t need this, and that’s not even adding in the fact that is cost ten times more then similar ‘less mobile’ body armor. In fact so far the only few we’ve managed to sell is to some of the rich for their personal bodyguards. But we’re working on lowering the costs… and I’m babbling on, aren’t I?”
“That’s okay,” Carrie replied. “I found it very interesting actually.” The two continued walking through the lab section. “This place is amazing, almost like Q’s lab from the Bond movies. Just without all the scientists being thrown around,” she added.
Jervis chuckled. “Indeed it is in some ways, although Mr. Wayne has made it policy that we are not designing weapons, either civilian or military. He does however sponsor a number of projects designed to aid the police.”
Tetch showed her a few more things before they started heading back to the entrance. “I hope I’ve been a help,” he said to Carrie.
“You have,” Carrie replied with a big smile. “You’ve been quite a big help. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Jervis replied, watching Carrie leave before turning back to his desk, his eyes falling on a new thumb drive that must have been delivered while he was with the young woman. He just shrugged as he picked the small device up.
* * * * * * * * * *
“What do you want, Riddler?” Batman said with a cold voice as he looked around the cage, bars too close together to let him throw a batarang at the other man. “Or should I say Nigma?”
Riddler paused for a second, a quick look of shock appearing on his face. “When did you figure it out?”
“Just now actually,” Batman replied, Riddler scowling in response.
“Well to answer your questions, since you figured out who I was, the fact is I want to do the same to you.”
“So all this was to get my attention?”
“Indeed,” Riddler told him. “Of course, it’s no fun if I just ‘pull your mask off’. I’d rather figure it out on my own, so we’re going to play a game of twenty questions, so to speak. Oh, and don’t bother lying, the cage your in is designed to detect lies and each time it does, it’s going to drop just a bit more.” Batman looked down seeing the waters of the Atlantic through a hole in the warehouse below him. “And don’t bother trying to escape in your inimitable fashion,” Riddler added. “Or I’ll have to pull this lever and drop you into the drink right away. There’s no way you’ll cut through those bars before you drown. I’d rather keep you alive, but if I have to find out by pulling the mask off your dead body… well those are the breaks.”
* * * * * * * * * *
“I’m afraid it’ll just be yourself and I for dinner tonight, Miss Carrie,” Alfred said as Carrie entered the kitchen.
“Hmm… What?” Carrie replied, the young woman deep in thought. “Oh. Oh right. Where is Mr. Wayne?”
“I’m afraid he has work,” Alfred told her. Carrie nodded, despite the fact that she knew Bruce hadn’t been at the office today, not unless he just left while she was returning home. The young woman paused at that thought, the word home suddenly feeling almost ‘right’ when describing the mansion. As she sat, Carrie thanked Alfred for the wonderful dinner and then ate.
As soon as they had finished and Carrie had helped Alfred with the dishes, Alfred asked the young woman if he could be excused for the evening. Carrie nodded, exiting the dinning room, but pausing just outside to find a place to hide. It wasn’t long before Alfred walked past, not noticing the young woman.
Carrie slipped out of her hiding spot and followed Alfred down the hall, making sure to keep far enough back so that she could slip out of view should he look backwards. Alfred finally reached the small library Bruce had in the mansion and the door closed behind him.
Carrie moved up to the door, giving herself a sixty count before opening it. The room was empty, no other exit save the windows and she doubted Alfred would have jumped out of one of them. The young woman’s suspicions were rapidly growing, a piece here, a comment there; everything seemed to be falling into place. She searched the room, looking for something, anything.
She pulled books in and out of the shelves, looked behind pictures, tugged on the bust on the desk, nothing seemed to work. Then she noticed the fish tank, and a few drops of water lying on the shelf it sat on. Looking inside Carrie saw what appeared to be a perfect miniature replica of Wayne Manor.
Worth a shot, she thought as she reached into the tank, her hands fumbling around with miniature before she finally felt part of it move inwards. There was a low rumble as the grandfather clock swung open, revealing a secret passage.
Now let’s hope this isn’t just left over from the civil war or something, Carrie thought to herself as she entered the passage, the bookshelf swinging shut behind her. Fortunately the corridor was sparely lit, allowing her to see the switch to reopen the bookshelf in plain view on this side. Carrie moved through the passage, finding herself headed into the earth. She noticed a set of stairs off to the side and made her way down, finally arriving in a vast cavern. The center was taken up by a huge computer, many other devices set up all around the large area.
“I knew it,” she whispered in glee.
After congratulating herself, Carrie quickly noticed a concerned Alfred looking at the computer’s large screen. It showed a map of the city with a blinking dot located down near one of Gotham’s harbors. “He’s in trouble, isn’t he?” Carrie asked as she walked out of the shadows, Alfred spinning to face her.
“What are you doing here, Mistress Carrie? Master Bruce…”
“Bruce is in trouble,” Carrie said, repeating herself. “He’s Batman and he’s in trouble.”
Alfred looked her in the eyes for a moment and then sighed. “Yes… he is,” Alfred told her.
“Let’s go then,” Carrie said.
“Go?” Alfred asked.
“To help him. Come on!” she told him. “To the Alfred-mobile!”
* * * * * * * * * *
“Let’s see, we know you’re a male Caucasian. We also know you were born here in Gotham. Told you not to lie, Bats,” Riddler said looking down at the costumed crime fighter.
The Riddler had been taking his time, enjoying himself as he asked his questions, some having very little to do with Batman’s identity, like what his weight was. Riddler had wanted this to last. That was his downfall.
“Next question, Batman. Are you rich?” Riddler stared intently down at his captive, not noticing the tiny form slipping in behind him.
“I’m sorry, you’re out of time,” came a female voice from behind him. Riddler spun around, right into a punch that knocked him back. “Thank you for playing though. Now here’s your parting gift.” A woman, clad all in black from head to toe, rushed over and kneed Riddler in the stomach before he could recover.
Riddler scrambled on his hands and knees, crawling over to his cane, but the woman was quicker, kicking the cane into the water. She aimed another attack at Riddler but the man managed to dodge this one, rolling back to his feet as he took a defensive stance. Without his cane however he was far less a threat, able only to dodge and block her strikes, his own attacked easily ignored by the young woman.
Finally he turned, and ran. The woman started after him but then stopped, turning back towards the cage. “Gotta save… never mind,” she said as she found herself face to face with the Batman, the hero having escaped the cage during the battle.
In a quick motion Batman grabbed her mask and pulled it off. “Carrie?!”
“Um… Hi… Bruce,” Carrie replied with a weak smile and small wave.
“We need to talk, young lady,” Batman growled, as he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of the warehouse.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Well that could have gone better,” Oswald said as he looked across the room at the battered form of his ‘partner’.
“He got lucky,” Edward Nigma, the man who called himself the Riddler, replied as he held an ice pack against the black eye Carrie had giving him during the fight. “No one said anything about a sidekick.”
“And now he knows who you are?” Oswald said.
Nigma shrugged. “So… He can’t prove anything. And next time I’ll get him for certain.”
“Next time
you are on your own,” Oswald told him. “I paid you to find out the Batman’s identity,
not play a game with him. Hawk will show you out.”
The Riddler glared at Oswald for a moment before he allowed a tall woman to lead him out of Cobblepot’s home.
Oswald settled back into his chair, pressing a button. “Dove, be a dear and bring me a cup of tea, please?”
“Yes sir, Mr. Cobblepot,” came the female voice from the other end while Oswald relaxed, putting on a classical record. A small smile formed on his face as he sat before his lit fireplace and listened to the music.
