Chapter Sixteen: Dawn
From the confessions of Bruce Wayne
The four police officers had exited their vehicle and had come to hold me back as I tried desperately to go back inside Wayne Manor. The building was on fire and Alfred was still trapped inside, although how things had ended up that way, I hadn’t the foggiest of ideas. The officers had called for police back up, as well as the fire department.
Three policemen held me down as Julie explained to the fourth what had transpired inside. I could see the spreading fire through the windows and my heart sank as I thought of my poor old butler. Whatever had happened to him? If Julie had not pulled him to safety, then where could he have gone?
Faintly, I heard pieces of the ongoing discussion.
“How did you get here so fast?” Julie inquired, exasperated.
“Someone triggered the mansion’s alarm system a few minutes ago,” the officer replied. It must have been Alfred. I hadn’t even known of the security system, if I am being honest, and the old man had likely had it installed during my time away from Gotham.
“Can’t any of you go in and try to find Mr. Pennyworth?” Julie begged.
“Let me go!” I yelled feebly.
“The fire department will be here soon, Miss,” the useless buffoon squeaked.
It felt like hours going by over the next few minutes, when my attention was called to a sudden movement from the rooftops. A figure appeared, silhouetted against the moonlight. Though it was far off, I could vaguely detect the Batman gear Cort had been wearing. He fumbled about, struggling not to slide down the slanted roof as he bent low and crawled his way to the far East side of the mansion.
“Is that the perp?” one of my grapplers asked stupidly.
“Is that… Batman?”
“Yes,” Julie confirmed, “that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! He’s crazy!”
And then another moment later, my heart lept into my throat as a second figure appeared. Another Batman.
Alfred! You old fool, what are you doing!?
“Wait… that’s… another one?” the stupid cop put voice to his clouded thoughts.
Alfred was indeed attired in my black Batman suit, and was strenuously shimmying his way across the ledging in pursuit of my attacker. In another moment, I realized what Cort had been after… the gun! I had flung it out the window but I could now see it was lying plainly on the edge of the East corner. I know not the series of events which would have led him outside on the roof, but I do believe that, hearing the police sirens, he was spooked back inside my room and decided he would attempt an escape down a fire escape or some similar means of flight from the scene.
Cort turned his head slightly, and noticed, I believe for the first time, that he was in the midst of being pursued. The two figures appeared then to be shouting back and forth at one another, but amidst the growing sound of the fires, I could not decipher a word being said between them.
A fire truck and more police cars tore down the pathway to meet us on the lawn, but I was much too enrapt in the events unfolding up in the sky to pay them heed. Cort turned away from Alfred and continued in his quest for his firearm. I do not suppose Alfred had any clue what the man was about, as he simply followed after the heathen.
I wanted so badly to call out his name and to tell him to get down, but I could not chance the police finding out he was the one beneath the cowl. All I could do was watch as Cort at last retrieved his weapon and hoisted it up for all to see.
“He’s got a gun!” I recognized the voice as Jim Gordon’s and turned to look upon his face briefly, panic flooding my veins and halting my breath. I turned back just as Cort fixed the point of his weapon upon Alfred’s form.
BANG! BANG! BANGBANGBANGBANG! SMASH! BANGBANG!
Cort stumbled as the bullets flew through the air and hammered upon his chest. Alfred dove away and slid further down the rough shingles. He was only just able to grab and hang on by a ledge, as Cort rolled and fell through the air to his doom below. Alfred dangled there, in front of a window that had been blown to pieces by a stray gunshot. He kicked at it awkwardly, and climbed inside.
BANG!
Another shot rang out, and this time it had been aimed at my poor butler. It only missed him by a hair.
“Hold fire!” Gordon screamed.
Fire crews then began to run inside. “Is there anyone else still in there?” one of the firemen asked of me.
“His butler!” Julie answered for me, as I had been too stunned to use my own voice. “Alfred Pennyworth!”
The fire squad turned on the hoses and began attacking the flames as best they could. My heart pounded in my chest with worry over my dear old friend. The seconds stretched into minutes and I must admit I started to lose all sense of hope…
And then they had him! Hauling him by the arms, two firemen dragged my frail old caretaker out from the front entrance. And what was more, he donned only his regular clothing, and not the Batsuit that only moments ago he had been wearing. I could not believe it. And would not have, if I had not been there to witness it all with my own eyes.
“Alfred!” I wheezed, and he bent down beside me, falling at once into a frenzy of coughing.
“Master Wayne, you’re alright!’
“And you’re alright!” I said in astonishment. “How?”
“I was hiding in the study. I heard gunfire.” He coughed again.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Though I knew this to be false, it would have to suffice until the authorities were not within earshot. “Good show, old chap,” I breathed in relief.
“Where is the Batman?” Gordon yelled at the firemen running up and down the path.
“Haven’t seen him,” one of them replied dismissively.
“Find him! Goddamnit, find him!”
From the official police records of James Gordon, Police Commissioner of Gotham City
Case No: HS 07/26/40/7499
Booking: Break-in/Arson/Attempted Murder
Reporting Officer: Cptn. James Gordon Date: Jul. 26, 1940
It is with deepest regret that I have to report the death of Lieutenant Maxwell Cort. It turns out I was correct in suspecting him as the Batman’s imposter after all.
We were alerted to a break-in at Wayne Manor, the home of multi-billionaire Bruce Wayne, at about 02200 hours this evening. A fire as well had broken out. We’ve taken statements from the two occupants of the mansion, Bruce Wayne and his Butler Alfred Pennyworth, as well as a visitor, a Miss Julie Madison - more widely known in the world of cinema as Portia Storme.
From what I can gather, Cort snuck his way onto the property, assaulted the butler and gained access to the building through the front entrance. He then went upstairs and started assaulting Wayne while Miss Madison managed to get away. At some point during this assault, the fire broke out in the bedroom. After Julie escaped, the butler fled the foyer and hid in one of the libraries after activating the alarm system, not knowing that a fire had broken out from above.
Bruce escaped from his attacker and was waiting out front with Julie when we arrived. Meanwhile, Cort, through some dimwitted decision making process, found himself up on the roof trying to get at his gun that Wayne had thrown outside.
At this point, the real Batman shows up. How he managed to know where Cort would be tonight is anyone’s guess, but he just seems to always be where all the action is. So Cort turns to start firing at him and, I will admit, this prompted me to start shooting. And then we all shot at him. I’m gonna take a lot of flak for this, but I couldn’t just stand by and let him kill someone right before my eyes. Someone who, in my opinion, is just trying to help.
I don’t know what happened to the Batman after that. He disappeared back inside the mansion and no one saw him again. The fire crews were able to drag the butler free of the carnage, but none of them caught sight of anyone else while they were inside. One of them went as far as suggesting the old guy himself could have been the Batman. After all I’ve seen of this vigilante in the past, I can’t even begin to tell you how laughable that is. Let’s just say he’s about the most frail little old senior you’ll ever lay eyes on. And he’s got a thick gray mustache to boot.
They finished putting out the fires a few hours ago. No human remains were found, so unless he climbed into some closet or something we haven’t stumbled upon yet, chances are pretty good that he somehow evaded us yet again. Can’t say I’m surprised.
As to why Cort attacked Wayne in the first place, we still don’t know. All three witnesses say they had never seen him before in their lives. It’s just my own personal speculation at this point, but I would say it might have something to do with the tank parts that were stolen from Wayne’s company a few months ago. I figure maybe Cort believed Wayne was in cahoots with the Batman, and he wanted to try and get to him through his benefactor.
Speaking of which, I am embarrassed to say that we actually had Wayne on our list of possible suspects when it came to fingering the Batman’s true identity. During one of our meetings, the topic of his arsenal came up, as well as the expenses involved in ascertaining such a wide array of resources. We started jotting down names of the wealthiest people in Gotham, and I do remember thinking about the stolen tank parts from Wayne Enterprises. What can I say, though? We were 100% off the mark on that one. In fact, if I had to venture a guess, I’d suspect the Batman is targeting Wayne Enterprises for a reason. Might be there’s something to that. I’ll have to look into Wayne’s associates a little more closely going forward.
The investigation is still ongoing. I think the Batman has been on Cort’s trail for a while now, and this final confrontation was seemingly inevitable. It’s a shame it turned out this way. I can’t speak to how or why Cort became so obsessed with capturing the vigilante, but it obviously took too much of a toll on his mental faculties, and so here we are.
From the confessions of Bruce Wayne
I was able to lure out the full affair from Alfred once we had given our witness statements to the police. As I had speculated, he had indeed awoken from a state of unconsciousness and ran to the batcave to don the Batman’s outfit. On the afternoon of the 26th of July, we walked amongst the half ruined mansion, just the two of us, assessing the damage for ourselves and wondering upon our impending plans for the next few months. I had upon my leg a thick bandage over my wound, and steadied myself on a rather cumbersome pair of crutches.
“Whatever made you think of doing something so foolish?” I demanded of him.
“Well I wasn’t about to confront the fellow without some added bit of protection, was I?” he answered in annoyance.
“But when he bounded out the window, whatever made you keep after him?”
“Oh, I dunno,” he admitted. “Mayhaps it had somethin’ to do with wearing the outfit. Makes one feel a bit indestructible, aye? At least until ye get out on the shingles and look down. Then I felt rather dim.”
“How in the world were you able to stash the outfit back in the cave without being discovered? You took a great chance in doing that as well, you know, with the fires spreading at the rate they were.”
“Not bloody bad for an old gus, eh?” he laughed. I did not reciprocate.
“You had me fair shaken, old man. I would thank you to never worry me so thoroughly ever again.”
“Heh, on that we can agree, Master Wayne,” he smiled sheepishly. “But at least now ye know what I been through all this time, scared outta me wits for ye. But… now I think I’m starting to understand,” he looked at me more seriously then. “Yer still in that alleyway, ain’t ya? And there ain’t no pulling ya out from it. It’s that powerlessness you’re trying to overcome, innit? Running away only brings ye right back to square one.”
“Something like that, old man. All I can do is try to rise above it.”
“It won’t bring ‘em back to ye, Master Wayne. You know that, right?”
“I know. But perhaps my efforts as the Batman may one day prevent another innocent from experiencing that kind of loss. From that perspective, doesn’t that make it all worth it?”
“Could be. You wasn’t the only one who lost them though, sir. Just you remember that, aye?” he winked at me and smiled warmly. “Well then, what are we to do now?”
“I suppose we will have to live out of a hotel suite for some time while we have the manor repaired. The fires never spread as far as the entrance to the cave, so there’s no threat of it being discovered. Even so, I’m afraid the Batman will have to take a bit of a break again, seeing as I’m in a bit of a rough shape, as it were.” I looked down at my bandaged leg solemnly, and a feeling of helplessness washed over me. The Joker and Jonathan Crane were still out there somewhere, and I yearned to get back on their trails as soon as it was possible.
“It’s about bloody time, ye ask me,” Alfred nudged me lightheartedly. “Leave at least somethin’ fer them officers to do on their own.”
“I still don’t know where things stand with Jim Gordon. For all we know, the task force is still bent on tracking me down.”
“Well, more reason to let things be for a while. Maybe they end up catching those loonies without your help this time.”
Somehow I doubted that, but it was a nice thought.
“Have you spoken to Miss Madison?” Alfred changed the conversation.
“Miss Portia Storme would like to take some time apart and remain friends,” I sighed. Who could blame the girl after what she had just gone through? All I could do was bend to her wishes, and thank the heavens that nothing vile or unseemly had happened to her during the course of the night.
“Thassa real shame, sir. I did like that one. Whateva happened to that nice Miss Vale?”
“Alfred, can we please focus on other matters?”
“Fine, fine. Y’aint getting any younger, is ole I’m sayin’. Ye don’t wanna end up old and alone like meself.”
“You can say that again.”
He looked at me, abashed, and then burst into a fit of laughter, which in turn transitioned into a fit of coughing. Then I laughed as well.