(OOC: trusty and I have had this planned, so no one be alarmed by the bunnying.)
As expected, my hope of nothing else arising was short lived. Because practically the minute I began my deduction on the madman's toxin, I was greeted with two homicides within the city. By someone
new.
The first body was uncovered in a dumpster within the east district. Wasn't anything particularly out of the ordinary, especially in light of the more... theatrical pattern of homocides within Gotham, so the police weren't nessacarily persistant with an invesigation. Luckily for the victim, I managed to catch a look at the crime scene whilst on nightly patrol.
Upon my own investigation, the victim was shot at point blank range in the head with a pistol of unknown origin and unspecified brank, even mark. I wasn't able to get the bullet from the corpse... The Gotham Forensics team had already arrived and left by the time I got there. But I recognised the wound. It was as vivid as it was on my father's chest, the night he and my mother were slain. Needless to say, I wasn't about to take the matter of an uncaptured gunman lightly in my city.
However, without prints, a murder weapon, or even a vague suspect, my investigation was put on hold. All I could learn was the victim's occupation. It seems he was a casting agent, his last known whereabouts recorded at an occupational session with his client of the time. A former major motion picture actor, his big break many years ago as the lead in "Owlman".
The morning after, I uncovered reports of another crime scene. Trickier to get to, considering the body was found during the day. And daylight is not an option for my work. However, after making a few arrangements with Rachel, she managed to persuade Gordon to allow her to view the corpse within the city's morgue. I placed a microcamera within her purse, recorded the data, and went to work. Seems this one was a doctor. But what caught my eye was the manner of the attack. Point blank shot to the head. Untraceable bullet. It seemed I had a double murder on my hands, even though at that point I could do nothing but jump to conclusions.
I was right to do so. Because after digging through a few records, I found a connection between the two. While the casting agent was last sighted in an audition session for the actor who portrayed the lead in Owlman, one of the doctor's most recent patients happened to be the very same man: A one Matthew Hagen. Realising both the connection and the timing, I took the case straight to Hagen's apartment. But arriving there, I found nothing. Absolutely nothing. It had been cleaned out, and after retrieving other records, I found that Hagen's lease had been overdue. So either he was kicked out... or given the perfect alibi. Provided he was even guilty in the first place.
But I had no proof. No motive, nothing. Just the connection. Back then, I assumed I was looking for the wrong set of circumstances, perhaps provoking my thoughts of Hagen's guilt. So I shut out the lead, telling myself I'd never make the same mistake again. Unfortunatley, it's only now that I see the error of my ways. And far too late.
My investigation was put on hold, yet again. That is, until I encountered what appeared to be a simple robbery occurance, only a week later...
Damn it. I'm late again. Alfred's going to rub that in tommorow morning, I just know it. But for now, to focus on the matter at hand... after all, Bruce Wayne's humanity may be the only alibi I need for this absence.
I make my way inside through the storage area, creeping to the shadows, Batarangs at the ready incase I need them. Heard about this one over the police bulletin I installed into the car. Seems three hoods were sighted in the market, trying to collect 'insurance' from an unwilling customer. That said person is the owner of a lower level market on the East End.
I am not, nor will I ever be tolerant of forced criminality.
I start with the guarding hoods, located near the back of the store. A couple of nerve pinches take them out without arising suspicion from the leader, as he continues to harass the store manager. I continue to advance towards them, hidden by the shadows.
"You heard me, old man!", The leader shouts, grabbing the store clerk by the collar of his shirt. "Thorne says you gotta pay up! And believe me, you don't wanna ignore a request from him!"
Thorne. Rupert Thorne. Again, his name is mentioned in regards to an act of violence or thievery. He's remained active for far too long. I have to put a stop to his control over the city, starting with his hired goons here.
"Please! Please! I have no money! I can barely make my monthly payments for my children's home! Please, leave me be!"
This doesn't seem to affect the leader, as he pulls back his fist.
"You should've thought about that before doing buisness in Thorne's territory!"
Sickening. That's the only word I can use to describe this. It's going to stop, and now.
Before the leader can land a punch, he's hit in the back of the head by a cereal box. He spins, immediatley, looking at his remaining two companions. All of which adorned in ski-masks.
"Which one of you did that?!"
Both look back at him, confused. And rightfully so. But he doesn't have to know that yet.
"What? We didn't-", One tries to explain, before being cut off by the leader.
"You think I'm stupid?! There's nobody else in this dump!"
"Actually...", I speak up, stepping from the darkness with one of their fellow men lying limp within my grasp. "I beg to differ."
The leader's eyes widen as I throw the limp thug into him, sending them both crashing into a fruit rack. The remaining two turn, guns loaded, immediatley regretting doing so as they realise who I am.
"THE BATMAN!", One screams. "SHOOT HIM!"
I dive forward, missing the gunfire as I spin to the left, and slam my head into one's abdomen. He goes flying, his back cracking as he slams into the cash register. I turn, hearing the click of the other's pistol. Outstretching my arm, both Batarangs go flying as they jam into both his hand and shoulder. With a leap, I spin, kicking him across the face and sending him through the front window. The neighborhood is quiet, so I knew doing that wouldn't gather any unwanted notice.
My attention is drawn back to the leader, as I hear his footsteps. I turn, running after him as he tries to make it to the door. Only one chance. I reach forward, grabbing him by the back of his jacket. He pulls, and oddly, I notice the jacket slip out of my hand. It's slick. Almost as if it's covered in some kind of residue. Looking at my glove as he runs out, I realise that it was. A strange, almost mud-like residue covers my fingers.
Doesn't matter. The leader escaped. Damn it. I failed to capture them all. But part of me is comforted by the fact that I managed to shake him up. Now he'll go to Thorne, and tell him what I intend to tell Thorne myself: I'm coming. And there isn't a place in this city that he'll be able to hide from me.
"Th... Thank you..."
I look over, seeing the grateful store clerk. That comforts me, too. Because in the longrun, it's people like him that I'm doing this for. As I nod once, and turn to leave, I step on something. A cell phone? Must've been shaken loose during my struggle with the leader's jacket...
I pick up the cellphone, and place it my belt. I can already hear the police sirens approaching in the distance. It's best to leave. There's nothing more I can do here...
Since then, the residue never even caught my attention again. Because when I eventually opened that cell phone, I found myself thrown right back into the case of the two homocides. Courtesy of the name that jogged my memory of it: Matt Hagen. The leader of the hoods, under Thorne's employment, was Matt Hagen.
It all started to make sense. Hagen had a connection with both victims. Both were murdered in the same manner, prompting the original theory that they were connected. Then I learned of his involvement with Thorne, with the uncovering of the cellphone. And from past experience in dealing with these people, Thorne only employs the toughest and most willing thugs this city has to offer, for the right price. It was that price that I needed to find, aswell as the man himself. And I knew the only place to get it...
"I won't repeat myself, slime."
I slam Thorne's head on the desk, as he drops the gun.
"Where is he? What did you offer him to gain his loyalty? What do you know about the murders? TALK, THORNE!", I yell into his ear, as he struggles to get up.
"GAH! OKAY! OKAY! You want answers?! I'll give them to ya! Just let me go!"
I slam his head on the desk again, before letting go and kicking his chair back, sending him toppling to the floor.
"I don't think you understand. For once, you're not the one giving orders. Now tell me what you know.", I growl, stepping towards him.
"I came to him, alright?! He was desperate! He hadn't had a good role in years! I told him I'd get him back on top if he did a few favors! That's all I know, damn it!"
-I believe him. But that doesn't mean he's not holding anything back. I walk forward, grabbing him by the turtleneck he's wearing. His fear is evident. So is my
impatience.
"The murders.", I state.
"Did you order them?"
"What? NO! I didn't! I'm not in that game, Bats! I swear!"
"Funny. Your bodyguards seemed to be, the night Deathstroke tried to kill you.", I respond, lifting him higher.
"You can tell me that you didn't order the hits, but don't play me for a fool when you say that you're no murdere-"
*CRASH*
We both turn, hearing a loud noise coming from inside Thorne's study.
"The hell is that?!"
I turn, backhanding him so hard that it sends him back in his chair.
"Stay seated and shut up. I'm going to look.", I growl, before turning and walking out of the room, into the hallway.
It's dark. I can barely even see the hand infront of my face as I reach up, and turn the infared on. Immediatley, I spot a large male in the hall infront of me. He's motionless, quiet... I can't even pick up a good enough heat signature to actually tell if he's still living.
I step forward, almost ready to ask who he is. But he interrupts, as he himself steps forward, and out of the shadows of the hall. Part of me thinks it may be Hagen. But when I finally get a look, I-
...
...
...
"...Oh my god."
