The Super Killer

Ch.3

The photograph showed Bruce Wayne at home and in bed with satin sheets tucked snuggly into the sides of his luxurious mattress. The sleek sheets were so tight, Palmer could see that Batman was naked. There were no lacerations or trauma done to the body apart from the clean cut that perfectly severed the superhero's head. It was the exact opposite of what he saw with Superman. All the violence and anger were replaced with a mature killer's elegance.

Are there two of you?

Commissioner Corporon cleared his throat and waited for all eyes to be on him. He said, "One stroke is what the coroner reported. He's also positive that Batman was wearing his mask at the time of death. Another detail, Batman's eyelids were removed before decapitation. He was forced to watch it all but at no point did he fight back. Who could do that?"

Palmer leaned back in his chair and withdrew a cigarette from a crumpled pack. He stuck the smoke in between his lips and said, "When I investigated the McCoy murders and studied Dark Beast's victims, the way he ate their eyes and organs, it was ravenous like an animal. He even bathed in their blood. I thought that was the worst I'd ever see of humanity, but that changed today. Gentlemen, what we are dealing with is a monster you may never wish to meet."

Commissioner Gordon, with heavy bags under his blue eyes, stood against the only bookcase in Corporon's office. He wiggled his nose and said, "This is the last thing we need right now."

Corporon agreed. "I still can't believe Bruce Wayne was Batman! Did you know?"

"I had an idea," Gordon answered back. "He never trusted me with that information, but I know my city."

"And you?" Corporon asked of Palmer.

Palmer was amused by the question.

"Of course you did," Corporon huffed. "And I guess you also knew that Clark Kent was Superman?"

Palmer lit his smoke and nodded yes.

Corporon rolled his eyes. "Fuck me." He turned to Gordon and said, "Whatever, fuck it. Gordon, tell us about Wayne Manor."

Gordon took out a notepad from his breast pocket and cleared his throat. "Alfred was killed first. His throat was cut while in bed asleep. Batman was killed two hours later. There were no signs of forced entry or a struggle. No signs of anyone being home other than Alfred and Bruce."

"It was the same with Superman," Palmer added. "Like the killer materialized from nothing, then left with the night." He turned to Gordon and said, "I've been in Wayne Manor. It tracks everyone that walks within fifty miles of it. Did security catch anything?"

"We ran an emergency diagnostic test from a computer in the main bedroom. Everything appeared normal except for a missing time stamp three hours before Alfred was killed. We tried to analyze it further, but the security system doesn't trust us."

Corporon's eyes went back and forth like he was at a tennis match. He snorted and asked, "Mind filling me in a bit?"

Palmer exhaled a cloud of smoke in Corporon's face. "Brother Eye is our number one suspect."

Corporon coughed and cursed under his breath. "The AI system? I thought that was deactivated years ago."

Palmer flicked the ashes of his cigarette on the floor. "You heard wrong."

Gordon's lip twitched. He turned his head and addressed Palmer. "Didn't they find a weapon near the Superman scene?"

"A military-grade Ka-Bar knife."

"Forged from kryptonite, I take it?"

"No modifications," Palmer replied, "it was made of normal steel."

Gordon fumbled in his pockets for a fresh pack of cigarettes. He said, "In a single night, our Man of Steel was killed by a steel blade, and our stealthy dark knight was mysteriously decapitated. How does that happen?"

"Maybe a new team was formed?" Corporon said, "This could be political—"

"No," Palmer interrupted. He had heard enough. "This isn't political, and these aren't the actions of a team or any squad. This is the work of one person. Maybe two."

Gordon couldn't hide his skepticism and asked, "A serial murderer? What makes you think that?"

"Call it a hunch."

"I don't like hunches," Gordon snapped back. "One of Gotham's greatest superheroes and my close friend is dead, so I'm going to need more than hunches."

Palmer stood and turned to face Gordon. He was much shorter than his subordinate and had to look up, and as he did, he pulled a badge from his breast pocket: A five-pointed star with SUPER INVESTIGATOR emboldened in gold. "This isn't a discussion."

"Okay," Corporon said, his eyes never leaving the badge, "pissing contest is over. Now let's discuss how this story got out and what our response will be. With all the changes we've gone through recently, the last thing we need is mass panic—again." His eyes turned to Palmer. "I want you to go back to the Superman scene—"

"No." Palmer returned the badge to his breast pocket. He sat down. "I already spoke with the president. We've identified who broke the story, and he's making a statement in an hour. His office will send a memo to the press core. Corporon, send some of your men to canvass the Superman scene. I'm going back to Gotham with Gordon."

Corporon sat in his chair. "What for?"

Palmer tapped his cigarette with his finger, causing ashes to fall on the floor. "If I send Gordon to investigate the Batcave, he'd fall off a cliff. And even if he managed to find Brother Eye, he wouldn't know how to talk to it. The computer only trusts three people and two of them are now dead. Want to take a guess at who the third person is?"

"Fine, go."

Palmer stood to leave. "I didn't need your permission."