Chapter Eleven: Doppelganger
From the audio logs of Dr. Hugo Strenj
Strenj: This is Doctor Hugo Strenj of Arkham Asylum. July the sixteenth, nineteen forty.
Cort: I really wish you wouldn’t record this stuff…
Strenj: Please know I’ve taken your apprehensions under consideration, but it cannot be helped. I must keep this for my personal records. Now, as to the plan…
Cort: Whatcha got for me?
Strenj: Sergeant Cort, I believe I have conjured a plan that will play to both of our skill sets. However, We will need a few items from the GCPD… and they cannot know of it. Tactical equipment, to be precise. Is this within your abilities?
Cort: Well, yeah… might not be easy, but I can do it.
Strenj: Perfect. I have outlined here all of the pieces we will need.
Cort: … Wait… this is like… special unit stuff. What’s the big idea?
Strenj: We are going to construct our own batsuit. I haven’t the materials needed to properly protect you, however, so it is imperative that we obtain them from your place of work.
Cort: How you gonna do that if you haven’t even seen the guy?
Strenj: With your help, of course. You have seen him, yes?
Cort: Well, yeah, but it’s not like I took notes or anything. So, what? You want me to dress up and pretend to be him?
Strenj: You are quick to catch on, my friend!
Cort: Ain’t no way I’ll look anything like he does. I mean… that stuff he was wearing looked pretty high tech, ya know?
Strenj: Maxwell, it does not matter in the slightest. Very few people have seen the Batman, besides a select few from your department and perhaps a few street walkers under the dark of night. It is not so hard to believe that we could fool a good many into believing you are, in fact, the caped vigilante himself. We merely need to place you in the appropriate situations and circumstances to be convincing.
Cort: So you’re saying I just show up to crime scenes wearing this get-up and start acting like he does?
Strenj: Mm, close. We’re going to use this deception as a means of luring him out.
Cort: Heh, right. So he sees someone else hogging the glory for stuff he ain’t even done, he gets mad, and comes to face me.
Strenj: Not quite. I don’t suppose he’s the egotistical type. Instead, you’re going to do things he would never do. We are going to lay ruin to his reputation, rather than build upon it.
Cort: Wait, wait, wait… I told you I ain’t doing anything illegal.
Strenj: Maxwell, desperate times call for the most desperate of measures. Do you want to capture this man, or do you not?
Cort: Well, yeah, but…
Strenj: We must be prepared to go to the lengths that he himself refuses to. Can you get me the materials by tonight?
Cort: Hhhhh… I will try my best.
Strenj: Good. If you can do that, I can have the suit ready by tomorrow night. Go on, then. We must begin as soon as possible.
Cort: Alright. I’ll be seein’ ya.
(Door opens, door shuts)
Strenj: At last, my plans are coming to fruition. So little time allotted to me, and yet, I feel as though there is hope. Please, wait for me. Wait for me and I will show you what you failed to see the first time. I am worthy. I am essential. I am pure!
From the confessions of Bruce Wayne
It was the evening after I had met with Lucius. We had determined that the newly minted ‘Batmobile’ would not be moved until It was needed to be put to use, as driving it across the city was not the most inconspicuous of activities.
Now, before I move forward with my tale, I would like to include a minor footnote, of a kind. You see, this next piece of information, while seemingly having nothing to do with my story of the Batman - aside from the introduction of one person - is of great importance to both myself and my character. Furthermore, in defense of its inclusion, I am under the strictest belief that it affected my early years as the caped crusader in a number of significant ways, both in a positive and negative light.
I had been directly in the middle of my evening workout when Alfred appeared. “Will you be attending the premiere tonight, sir?”
Startled and confused, I simply gawked at the man in a daze.
“The big movie premiere. Another one of them talkies. ‘Vampire Monk’ or some such.”
“Why the hell would I want to attend that?” I was completely bewildered by the question.
“Why? And why not? It’s set to feature a number of Gotham’s biggest stars, like that Portia Storme vixen.”
“I tend to skip the entertainment section of the newsies, as I thought you were well aware.” I hadn’t a clue who he was referring to. “And why should I attend such an event anyway? I’m no connoisseur of the arts.”
“Well, perhaps maybe so the general public - mainly, the GCPD - don’t catch on that the brooding billionaire who keeps to himself just might have something to hide,” Alfred chastised me.
Of course, the man had a point there. I had often worried about their making a connection between the vastness of resources used to create the Batman’s suit and arsenal and the sheer amount of capital needed in acquiring them. One did not wish to add fuel to the fire, if one could avoid it somehow. And although I had no interest in watching such a bizarrely named film, I couldn't think of anything to thoroughly refute my butler’s claims. As such, I relented, and agreed I would make an appearance.
The film itself was rather dreadful. However, I was somewhat taken with a beautiful dark haired actress who played a starring role. She went by the name of Portia Storme, which had annoyed me, as it was the one that Alfred had mentioned earlier in the evening. Much like when he suggested I first speak with Vicky Vale, it appeared he knew my particular fancies of the female persuasion quite well indeed. Possessing such an awkward demeanor as I did, I had almost allowed the opportunity of meeting her to pass me by. However, when we crossed paths outside the theater amongst a swarming crowd and she gazed upon my face with a hint of recognition, my mouth and throat worked in unison without any mental preparedness.
“Miss Storme, I offer my utmost commendations on your performance,” I stammered.
“Bruce Wayne, is it?” She ignored the crowd and held out her gloved hand in offering.
“The very same.” I took her vulnerable appendage in my own and touched it lightly to my lips.
“I must say, you are even more dashing in person than in the photos I’ve seen,” she smiled flirtatiously, knocking me off my guard.
“And you, my dear, appear even more beautiful in color.”
“Well I should hope so,” she laughed. “Would you do me the honors of joining my entourage for a drink?” The reporters surrounding us continued to rain questions down upon her, but she had only eyes for me at that moment, and I felt rather starstruck at the realization of it.
“I… why, yes. I’d be delighted.”
“Splendid, darling. Please wait a moment while I handle the press and we shall be on our way directly,” she smiled brightly, turning once again to face her admirers.
After the fuss had died down, we made our way to a local dance club. It was simply magnificent in all aspects, and while I’d love to divulge more, sadly, many of the details escape me. What I can recall is that she performed a singing number shortly after we had arrived, and I remember being quite entranced with her melodious voice. From there, we spent most of the night finding company only in one another. She was charming as can be, and I found myself thoroughly amused with her history in theater and stage work. And she - although I could not understand how or why - had been utterly enrapt in the tales of my foreign travels. Over the course of our conversations, we covered a great many things, but it eventually came to light that on one subject in particular we were very much of a likeness; our propensity for solitude.
“You see, I’m not used to the kind of fame and attention I’ve been receiving as of late,” she confided.
“How so?”
“I’ve always fancied myself a singer, and only made the odd appearance in silent films in my younger days. But once the talkies overtook the industry and a combination of voice and actions became essential to the job, the roles started piling up and all of a sudden people saw me as recognizable. It’s been such a whirlwind these past two years.” I nodded at this, and she studied my face hesitantly. “I should have you know, Portia Storme is only my stage name. My real name is Julie Madison, although I would appreciate it if we kept that between us.”
She smiled upon the realization that I’d been taken aback by this, “I see. Does everyone in the business have a… stage name, you said?”
“Many do. It can help people to remember if it’s something exciting. No one wants to remember the plain Jane, don’t you know?”
“Well then, I reckon I am humbled to meet you for the second time this evening, Miss Madison.”
“It’s Miss Storme in public, Brucey, and don’t you forget it.”
I did not care for ‘Brucey’, but nevertheless, it stuck. The rest of the evening was enchanting, and whence the time came for us to part ways, she boldly requested to see me again. And, as she would be leaving to film a new movie in just a few short days, it would need to be soon. I wholeheartedly accepted, and she surprised me by kissing me on the lips firmly before taking her leave. I am not embarrassed to say I was awestruck and stunned in my place for a good few seconds before coming back to my senses and heading home.
From the audio logs of Dr. Hugo Strenj
Strenj: This is Doctor Hugo Strenj of Arkham Asylum. July the seventeenth, nineteen forty.
Cort: Uh… who's the tied up guy?
Strenj: That? That is one of my patients. We will get to him soon.
Crane: Mmmm!
Cort: Right. So you got everything ready?
Strenj: I did indeed, Maxwell. Take a look at these!
Cort: Those um… those don’t look like the Batman’s things.
Strenj: Perhaps not, but you wouldn’t know it given that a majority of the general public have never seen him in person.
Cort: Yeah, but if the cops who’ve seen him get a look -
Strenj: Then you are to stay in the shadows and at a distance from them. Surely, from afar, you’d be none-the-wiser even yourself!
Cort: Well, yeah, maybe… but what am I to do if he shows up? One on one… I don’t know for sure I can take the guy. Especially if his equipment is better than mine. Word in the department is that he can take bullets without even flinching, ya know?
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
Strenj: That is precisely where my friend here comes in!
Crane: Mmm!
(Ripping noise)
Strenj: Hello, Jonathan. It has been a while, hasn’t it?
Crane: Youuuu… you insolent, arrogant -
Cort: Wait… wait, that’s Jonathan Crane, isn’t it?!
Strenj: Indeed it is. I’ve had him under solitary confinement for the past two days. And he shall remain there, unless he agrees to help us.
Crane: Help you!? Not a chance, after the way I’ve been treated!
Strenj: Mm, shame. Back to the closet with you, then.
Crane: Hrrrrr, wait… that’s not fair!
Strenj: That, my friend, is a matter of subjectivity.
Cort: You deserve far worse than that!
Strenj: See? Two drastically opposite opinions. Now, are you going to cooperate?
Crane: Hehhh… what do you want?
Strenj: The serum. The one you used on the Batman.
Crane: I’m not giving you my serum!
Strenj: You can give it to me now, Jonathan, or you will give it to me after you’ve spent days upon days in a darkened hole in the wall. The choice you must make is obvious.
Cort: You want me to use this stuff on the Baman?
Strenj: Of course. With Crane locked away here, there’s no reason he should expect to be coming into contact with it. It will make him vulnerable, giving you a strict advantage in a physical altercation.
Cort: Huh. Guess it couldn’t hurt.
Crane: But… but it’s mine! I can’t just let you have it!
Strenj: Perhaps we can come to an understanding then. Give me a list of ingredients. Some you must use, and the others merely to throw me off course. I will retrieve each substance you list down for me, and I will leave you alone to your mixing so that I do not learn the exact concoction. Hm?
Crane: What do I get in return?
Strenj: This is not a negotiation, Jonathan. Either you help us now, or you go back into confinement.
Crane: I knew you’d show your true colors eventually.
Strenj: I’m afraid you’ve tried my patience for far too long. I am simply out of time.
Crane: For WHAT?
Strenj: For catching this vigilante, of course.
Crane: For what purpose?
Strenj: For the betterment of our city.
Crane: THAT’S a bold-faced lie! You and I both know it is!
Cort: Doc, there something you ain’t telling me?
Strenj: He’s just trying to shake your confidence in me, Maxwell. Pay no heed to his ramblings. He is, after all, in the truest sense of the term, a madman.
Crane: Fine… Fine! I’ll get you your damned serum. But I won’t forget this, doctor. Mark my words, you’ve just made the gravest error of your life, and we all pay the piper in the end.
Strenj: Perfect. Let’s get started, shall we? Sergeant, are you prepared to strike out tonight?
Cort: Uh… yeah. Yeah, I think so. I’m gonna hafta put a cover or something over my motorcycle though. Don’t wanna risk being identified that way.
Strenj: Then we are well on our way to finally catching our prey!
From the confessions of Bruce Wayne
I sat in my study one morning, awaiting my breakfast and newspaper. Alfred appeared suddenly in the doorway, white as a sheet, and a sullen look spread across his tired face.
“Alfred, are you sick, man?”
“I’m afraid I might be, sir. And you will be too, once ye’ve had a look at this!” He handed me the newspaper.
Scrawled atop the front page read the title, “Batman raids nightclub, beats and robs patrons!”
“I did no such thing,” I read the headline again, unable to believe my own eyes.
“Well I should hope not. Ye were out late again last night…” Alfred scrunched his face up. I knew he was well aware I’d been out again with Julie Madison the night before, but his expression annoyed me nonetheless.
“You know very well where I was, Alfred. I have no idea what the devil this is about.” I read the article in full, and it never ceased to be shocking to me. It reported that the Batman had forced his way into a bar in the red light district - known as Noonan’s Bar, an establishment rumored to house a number of shady scoundrels - but most notably, it attracted hitmen. It was also said that the owner, Sean Noonan, was a former hitman himself. Not at all a place I’d want to be, unless it could not be helped. Nevertheless, it was written that upon entering the premises, Batman began a brash assault against the clientele, and made no attempt at being particular in his rampage. The bar itself was left in ruins, and a good many men injured. Indeed, it seemed this imposter was brutal in his attacks, using a gun to incapacitate his victims by shooting them in an arm or a leg, and then beating them with a baton-like weapon. “This lookalike uses guns.”
“So then why does it say it was the Batman who done it?”
“By all accounts, it is said the assailant was dressed like the Batman. Clothed all in black with an armored suit, a helmet and mask with ears, gloves and boots, and a long cape.”
“Sounds about right then.”
“I’m not so sure, old chap.” I re-read the description once more. “Clothed all in black…”
“Yeah? Well, go on then. Don’t leave me here in suspense.”
“My new suit is all black. However, it was never reported in the papers that I’d made that change. The initial descriptions leaked to the newspapers referred to my gray outfit. The only ones to have seen me in all black were Gordon, Dent, the loan shark, a few GCPD members, and the Joker and his goons.”
“Oye… I get ya now.” Alfred sat down on the sofa across from me. “So then that narrows our list of suspects down a tad, yeah?”
“Or someone didn’t read the old news articles closely enough and decided to wager a guess as to how the Batman appears. Still… it’s worth noting.”
“This bloody business nevah ends. I tells ye, you’ve opened up a can of the rottenest worms I ever did see. First the Joker, then a task force, and now this.”
“Shh, quiet!” I’d had the radio playing in the background at a barely audible decibel, but at this moment I had recognized a familiar voice. I ran to my device and turned the volume up, and immediately recognized it as belonging to Doctor Hugo Strenj, acting director of Arkham Asylum.
“It cannot be denied, this has been a long time coming. Men such as he eventually become mad with power, believing they might get away with anything they so desire. While the Batman’s supporters have been quick to assume he has been acting as a proponent of the justice system in Gotham, those of us with a more skeptical eye have worried he may just be eliminating the competition for becoming the supreme leader of the criminal underworld. With Jonathan Crane and the Joker both taken off of the streets of Gotham, he is now free to do as he wishes. And what is worse, the GCPD have been far too lenient with his vigilantism. He believes there is no one capable of opposing him.”
“We asked for comment from the GCPD this morning,” the female interviewer’s voice chimed in. “The Commissioner said that they’ve instituted a task force to try and bring the Batman to justice.”
“Too little, too late, my dear. This is only the beginning, mark my words. We have yet to even scratch the surface of the Batman’s forthcoming crimes. I have been warning you all along. This man is completely insane and out of control. There’s simply no telling what he will do next.”
I turned the radio off then, not being able to bear any more of his baseless accusations. It was only a few seconds later that we were interrupted by the sound of the door bell, and Alfred took leave to go and answer it. When he returned, he was not alone.
“Miss Vicky Vale, sir,” he bowed and left.
I stared dumbly at her in surprise, forgetting my woes for only a short moment. “Vicky, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Heh,” she seemed almost at a loss for words, eyes fluttering this way and that in a rather nervous manner. “I was hoping ya might be able to help a girl out.”
“Indubitably. How can I assist you?”
“Well, they’ve got me running these dumb gossip columns on Fridays, ‘cause… well, female reporter,” she struck a pose in somewhat of an ironic fashion. “I’m digging at the bottom of the barrel this week. I’d um… heard that you were out with Portia Storme the other night…”
“Oh, that,” I blushed unintentionally. “Well, yes, but it’s not anything worthy of attention. We merely had a few drinks together.”
“Are you sure that’s all?” she asked doubtfully. “This is all I have to go on right now. Unless you want me digging into that mess up in Arkham again.”
“The mess?”
“All the safety violations and allegations against Strenj? They may have fallen off of peoples’ radar a bit, but as far as I’m aware, the investigations are still ongoing…”
“Oh, right. Those,” I hesitated. “Well, there’s always this Batman figure to write about. Especially since this morning’s revelation.”
“I, uh… my views on him have changed, somewhat.”
“Oh?” I hadn’t the foggiest idea where she stood on his methods, but was curious to know more.
“Well, in a nutshell, he was actually the one who saved Harvey a few months ago. Not that it justifies everything else he’s done, but I… just would rather not add my voice to the condemnations, if I can help it.”
“I see.” I’d forgotten that Dent had taken a majority of the credit for the Joker’s capture, and that details of how he had been able to overpower the madman were murky at best. “Well… so long as I’m not named in your column as a source, I can confirm that Ju… er, Portia and I went out for a second time last night. And I do believe we have plans for tonight as well.” Plans, I now knew, I would need to cancel in order to track down this imposter of mine.
“Oh,” for a moment Vicky appeared shocked, “I had a feeling you were playing coy just now. So you two are an item?”
“No, no, nothing like that. She will be leaving to film a new picture soon. I’m just a minor distraction along the way until she sets off for New York.”
“You can’t be so sure of that. After all, you’re an eligible bachelor if I’ve ever heard of one. Handsome, well off, politically savvy…” she trailed off, and I was hit with the faintest notion that perhaps she’d said more than she’d intended to. “My point is, there’s no reason she can’t make her way back to you between films. If you like her that way, that is.”
“She’s the cat’s meow, as they say.”
“Uhh, in the nineteen twenties they might have said that,” she laughed, although she began to look quite pale against the morning sunlight, and I began to wonder if she was feeling under the weather. “Well, I should be going. What was the name of the place you went last night? Credibility and all that.”
“I believe it was called O’Malley’s.”
“Cop bar. Got it. Steer clear of Noonan’s tonight,” she winked.
“Let me see you out,” I offered.
“No, really, it’s fine. I know the way and I gotta jet. Take care, Bruce. Let’s grab that drink we promised soon.”
From the official police records of James Gordon, Police Commissioner of Gotham City
Batman Task Force
Cptn. James Gordon Date: Jul. 18, 1940
We got reports of the Batman being sighted last night at Noonan’s Bar. Apparently he tore the place apart, indiscriminately attacking anyone who got in his way and robbing a few injured victims on his way out of the joint.
I know I’m going to get lambasted for this, but I don’t buy that it was really him. For one thing, it doesn’t fit his M.O. And by that, I mean absolutely none of it fits. He’s only ever gone after terrorists before, so a bunch of punks working for the Mafia don’t quite fall under the same category. None of the accounts we took down said anything about him digging for information. They all say he just stormed in there and started wreaking havoc everywhere. It doesn’t make any sense.
Another thing. He shot the place up with a gun. We’ve never known the Batman to use a gun before. That’s not to say that he never would, but it seems pretty hostile for a bunch of lowlives, considering he never stooped to using firearms when dealing with the Joker’s thugs. It seems too cowardly.
Here’s the worst part… a couple of guys were beaten into critical condition. One’s in a coma, the other one died just a few minutes ago, I’m told. Call me crazy, but I always thought that his coming after Jonathan Crane was on the personal side. He had a chance to kill him, but he didn’t take it. But now… now all of a sudden he’s a hardened murderer? Out of nowhere? Something about this whole thing stinks to high heavens. I think we have an imposter we’re dealing with here, and depending on which guy we end up catching, we might end up sending the wrong man away for murder.
That’s just my two cents. In any case, we have to at least be open to the possibility that this task force is now after two guys instead of one.
From the audio logs of Dr. Hugo Strenj
Strenj: This is Doctor Hugo Strenj of Arkham Asylum. July the eighteenth, nineteen forty.
Cort: Fuck, fuck fuck! Would you quit it with that shit already? This is serious!
Strenj: What is the matter, Maxwell? Everything has gone according to plan!
Cort: No, it most certainly did NOT! One of the guys I beat up last night just died in hospital!
Strenj: Oh… a most unfortunate accident, surely.
Cort: Fuck… I’m gonna be sick. This ain’t at all what I had in mind. I killed a guy… and for what?
Strenj: Sergeant, please compose yourself. I know this is a difficult business, and sacrifices must be made for the greater good.
Cort: Greater good? I’m a fucking murderer! Not even this Batguy has done anything this bad! I… I think I need to turn myself in.
Strenj: Certainly not! Get a hold of yourself, man. Think about why we are on this journey in the first place. The Batman must be brought to justice for his crimes. If not for his own sins, than for the sins of the ones who are destined to follow in his footsteps if we do not stop him.
Cort: Yeah, but…
Strenj: And do not forget that without this Batman, the Joker would never have come here in pursuit of him in the first place. All of the violence and death he wrought upon us, it is all because of him! The Joker was but a symptom of the true problem. YOUR miscalculation last night was yet another symptom. And until we bring this maniac to justice, more destruction will continue in his wake. Do you not see, Maxwell, that the sacrifices we make now are in the best interest of everyone?
Cort: I… I really dunno, Doc. When I got in there and guys started swarming me I just… I lost my head.
Strenj: Exactly! That power and that force, that feeling of invincibility! That is what the Batman feels every time he is met with a crowd of foes and emerges victorious. We cannot allow him to continue on this path, or the bodies will begin to slowly pile up. We mustn’t allow him to believe in his superiority, or he will take advantage of it more and more until… god, I don’t even know where it will end. Please, tell me you understand.
Cort: … Yeah… yeah, I guess I sorta do.
Strenj: Good, for we must continue with the next phase tonight. We cannot afford to let up. And considering how much attention is on him because of last night’s activities, he will undoubtedly be on the prowl this evening, in search of the man who is attempting to ruin his reputation even further.