I undoubtedly surprise units when I get to a scene before they do, but it keeps their attention sharp and focused because they won’t want the off-handed question or to be shown up by the boss. They also shouldn’t have to deal with politicians, local leaders, and high-minded educational enthusiasts, especially if they’re all one and the same. I keep my car a few feet back. Just in case the press has already arrived and some unit supervisors quickly come to my side.

  “Commissioner Gordon, are you thinking about going back to school?”

  Detective Bullock should not quit his day job, and my usual stern glare is enough to kick the stupid question into the dumpster where it belongs. Me? A student? That was not just laughable, it was ridiculous. Barbra would have something to say about that, and I doubted that most of these professors would welcome an old grump like me in their lecture halls and classrooms.

  “What do you get, Bullock?” I demanded.

  “Huh?” Bullock replies as he chews on a toothpick like a complete idiot.

  “Detective, the facility is owned and operated by the Wayne Foundation. I don’t need to tell you the PR nightmare we’re going to have on our hands if news gets out that our university has been the target of this quiz master, or Riddler or whatever he calls himself. Plus, is it true that one of the fellowshipped scientists was attacked?”

  “I think so,” Bullock said, “The paramedics are getting her stabilized and I’ve got officers who are going to follow for security and to take her statement once she’s stable.”

  I grumble and the PR nightmare, a fiasco like this is going to generate.

  “Detective, please go get statements from the security guards and we need to get the mayor’s secretary on the phone to set up a public statement. I want officers canvassing the campus and we’re going to have a solid police presence here around the clock. We have to make ensure the public that their kids will be safe while they’re here.”

  “Sure,” Bullock said, and he lifted his hands to get me to stop. I wrinkled my nose in frustration, and Bullock wandered off, motioning to an officer to follow him.

  At least someone is going to get it done. I would have gotten rid of him, but he had experience, and I was the boss. he had a few years on me with the beat cops, and for some reason, he had earned their respect. For the moment, certain officers that were in Bullock’s inner circle merely feared me. I was fine with that, just as long as they knew that I ran a tight ship, so I didn’t have any plotting or trying to take advantage of moments of distress.

  “Montero,” I called as a new car pulled up next to the ever-growing line of patrol cars. “I want the Crime Scene report on my desk ASAP. And I want you personally to talk to any rep from the Wayne Foundation. If they want to have a meeting, you set the time and tell me when.”

  “Understood sir,” she said.

  Eliza Montero. She was brilliant! A spitfire and a chip off the old block. She didn’t like to talk about her past or her family, but everything about her told me that she had family members, and recent ones who had been cops or military. She carried herself with authority and knew how to stay three steps ahead to get the job done. I pulled out some nicotine gum and popped a square tablet-sized piece into my mouth. As I carefully put the pack back into my pocket, I looked up toward the roof and I saw what I expected to see.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  And unsurprisingly, there were a handful of cops who had no idea he was there.

  The Batman stood on the edge of the building. He often did that when a crowd gathered, but this was different. The fact that he was making his presence known meant that he was giving me this moment because we needed to talk.

  I tapped my watch three times and then headed to my car. I had Montero on the scene, so I figured I better get back to the helm and steer the ship.

  I immediately returned to police headquarters, and Montero, with precision, gave me the run down and key details. I pose some routine questions just in case I have to deal with the mayor or the press, and then I move through the building and up to the roof. I took my position beside the big searchlight I had mounted beside a helicopter pad that was hardly used after city officials had cut the budget for its maintenance, in place of putting one on the ground near the hospital, which was up the street from the station.

  “Well, what did you find?” I asked, and I heard the swoosh of his cape and the soft footfalls I’d almost disregarded if I hadn’t been expecting him.

  “This crew has escalated,” Batman said. “It makes sense to go after money, but why the university laboratory?”

  “At this point, your guess is as good as mine,” I said, “When a thief goes after a specialized target, a university, a library, or any kind of dealer, that means they want something.”

  I put my gum in a scrap of paper and then put it in my pocket. Meanwhile, Batman said nothing.

  “Do you know if certain people were up to no good at the lab?”

  “It’s possible,” Batman replied.

  “Well then, I’d suspect that you found something. You didn’t contaminate my crime scene too badly, did you?”

  “Next time you go to the crime scene, let's see if you can pin down if I was there,” Batman said,

  “Deal,” I said. There were a handful of people who lay blame on Batman, but he was too smart to leave any evidence.

  Batman grunted, “I didn’t find any concrete but I’m sure you’ll find something peculiar on the scientist’s voice recorder. Instead of leaving a riddle posted, one of them said it out loud.”

  “That is odd,” I said, “that is, did they want her to convey it to us, or did they know that she was recording?”

  “I imagine that she was meant to scare her and then she’d give us the message, and she panicked. You’re going to want to keep an eye on her just in case these intruders go after her in the event that she can ID them.”

  “This escalation can only mean that the Riddler is escalating to some kind of extreme agenda and the university had something in its possession that he wanted.”

  “The obvious answer is Dr. Isley,” Batman said.

  “And her work,” I added, “but what would a logical mastermind want with the research of a biochemist?”    “a biochemist with an expertise in botany,” Batman said.

  “Poison?” I hesitated, and the weight of the predicament came down on my shoulders.

  “When someone tells a joke or shares a riddle they have an obvious punchline in mind,” Batman said. “The Riddler’s Riddle talked about three boxes if you pick one and it's empty. The question is it worth the risk to make a snap decision, or are we dealing with misdirection?”

  “Misdirection?” I questioned, but I took as someone jiggled the hand, and unsurprisingly, the Batman was gone as two officers came through the doorway accompanied by a grumpy man with a mustache and a premium suit.