Commissioner Gordon was chatting with Perry White, chief of the Daily Planet, when Bruce Wayne came up behind them.

"Gentlemen," he said, sipping from his glass of wine. "Glad you could make it."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Mr. Wayne," Gordon replied. "Lord knows I need some distractions from my work."

"Oh, please, call me Bruce," the host said. He turned to Perry. "And how are things in the newspaper business?"

"Interesting, to say the least," Perry answered. "But I am intrigued by the increasing number of stories relating to these 'superheroes.'"

"Indeed," Bruce said. "I believe that all of the front page stories were about them only yesterday morning."

"The only superhero that really puzzles me is that Batman fellow," Gordon interjected. "All of the rest seem out in the open, while he's . . . he's just trying to do what he thinks is his job."

"Ah, yes, the Batman," Bruce said. "But say, didn't I hear a rumor that he helped during the blackout crisis a few months back?"

"The Sinister Six case, yes," Gordon replied.

"I remember that," Perry added.

A cell phone rang, and all three men checked their pockets to see who's it was.

"It's mine," Gordon said, putting the phone to his ear. "Gordon." He was silent for a moment. "Lambert? The chemical king . . . murdered?" Silence again. "I'll be right over."

He flipped his phone down and replaced it in his pocket. "I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne, but it looks like I have to leave early. Old Lambert has been murdered at his mansion."

Bruce's face displayed a sense of shock.

"Murdered?" Perry asked. "By whom?"

"We don't know for certain, but his son's fingerprints were found on the knife. Now, if you'll excuse me . . . " Gordon began to walk away.

"Wait a moment, commissioner," Bruce said. "Do you mind if I tag along? The Lamberts were friends of mine."

"What about your party?"

Bruce threw up his hands. "It can survive without me for an hour."

"Well, if you're sure . . . "

"Let's go," Bruce said, motioning for Alfred to meet them in the foyer.

"Really, Bruce, this wasn't necessary," Gordon said.

"Nonsense," Bruce said, with a smile. "You might as well enjoy the ride. Like you said, you need all the distractions from your job you can get."

"True," Gordon said, leaning his head back.

The limo pulled up to the Lambert mansion, and the two passengers stepped out. They walked up to the crime scene, stepping under the police tape.

"Hello, Sergeant," Gordon said, addressing Sergeant Bullock, who was standing by the front door. "Is everything under control?"

"Yes, sir," Bullock replied. "We have young Lambert in the back room. But, what's he doing here?" The detective pointed to Bruce.

"Don't worry, he's here under my auspices."

"Well, if messes with anything, I won't hesitate to bring him in myself . . . "

"Relax, Bullock," Gordon said. "Mr. Wayne knows enough not to mess with crime scenes. Now, if you'll show me around the scene . . . "

After a thorough examination of the library where Lambert had been stabbed, Bullock led Gordon and Bruce to the parlor, where Lambert's son was sitting in an armchair. He was wearing khaki pants, and a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He held his head in his hands as he was crying. His dark blond hair was soaked with sweat.

Gordon walked over. "Hello, young Lambert. How are you feeling?"

"I didn't do it, Commissioner," Lambert said, looking up. "Believe me, I didn't do it!" He looked at Bruce. "Please, Bruce, tell them. You know me!"

"Calm down, Bill," Bruce said, trying to soothe his friend. "No one is saying that you did anything. The police are just conducting an investigation."

"Now, Bill, is it?"

Young Lambert nodded.

"Now, Bill, will you please tell me all about it."

Bill pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead. "Well, sir, tonight, I came home early, and as I was passing the library, I heard a groan. I rushed in, and there was my father lying on the floor, with a knife sticking up from his back. I got the impression of something leaping out of the window. I also noticed that the safe was opened. I ran over and pulled the knife out of his back. That's how my prints got on the knife. I was just in time to hear him say 'Contract.' He died after that."

The commissioner rubbed his jaw and pushed his glasses back up onto his nose. "Mr. Lambert, did your father have any enemies or people who had an interest in his business activities?"

Lambert thought for a second, and then slowly shook his head. "Not that I know of, except his three former partners: Steven Crane, Paul Rogers, and Alfred Stryker."

"Commissioner," Bullock interrupted. "There's a man named Steven Crane on the phone. He wanted to speak with Mr. Lambert. When we told him Lambert was dead, he insisted that he speak to you."

Gordon followed Bullock to the phone. "This is Commissioner Gordon."

"Commissioner," Steven Crane said, "yesterday, Mr. Lambert called and told me he received an anonymous threat on his life. Today I received the same. That's why I called. I'm afraid I'll be next. What shall I do?"

"Wait," Gordon replied. "Do not let anyone in. We'll be over as soon as we can." Gordon hung up the phone and turned to Bruce. "I'm sorry, but this looks like it will take longer than expected. You should return to your party. If I can wrap this up early enough, I'll return to the party myself."

"Shall I send a limo?" Bruce asked.

"That won't be necessary. I'll come in a squad car."

Bruce grasped the commissioner's hand and shook it. "If I don't see you later tonight . . . " he said. "Good luck on your case."

They let go, and as Bruce walked away, Gordon said, "Good luck at your party."

Bruce smiled.

"Did you get the paper?" he asked.

"Yeah," the murderer replied, struggling to pull himself over the ledge. Finally, he did so, and both men turned to flee. However, they were stopped by a third man standing in their way.

The man was dressed in black, and had a cape and cowl with two pointed ears. They noticed the bat on his chest.

"Batman!" they both exclaimed.

Without any words, Batman lashed out with a right cross to the second man, and grabbed the murderer in a deadly headlock. With a mighty heave, he tossed both men off the roof. They both landed safely in the bushes, but very sore. Batman picked up the paper from the safe that the murderer dropped.

As Batman was preparing to leave, a squad car pulled up, and the commissioner and Bullock jumped out.

"Look, it's Batman!" Bullock exclaimed.

Crane's butler ran out of the house. "Mr. Crane has been murdered, sir! It's horrible!"

"That's why Batman was here," Gordon said. Turning to Bullock, he ordered, "Search the premises. Look for any signs of the culprits." Turning back around, he shook his head, and pushed his glasses back up on his nose. "That's two dead partners out of the four that have received threatening notes. The other two must have gotten them as well. Let's go to Rogers next."

The door was answered by Stryker's assistant, Jennings.

"Oh, hello, Jennings," Rogers said. "I must see Stryker quickly."

"Please, come in," Jennings said, moving to the side, allowing Rogers to enter. He closed the door, and pulled out the baseball bat he had hidden behind the door. Within a second, Rogers was down on the floor.

Jennings carried the unconscious man to the catwalk in the basement laboratory and tied him up. Heh! One more out of the way. Soon I'll control everything! He dragged Rogers to the center of the room, where a large metal circle lay. Rogers began waking up.

"This is the gas chamber I use to kill the guinea pigs I experiment with," Jennings explained. "But now, you are my guinea pig! When this glass dome covers you entirely, gas will come through the jet and kill you!"

"You fiend!" Rogers exclaimed.

Jennings walked over and flipped a lever on the wall, which caused the glass to begin its descent. He then walked out. "Sleep well . . . "

At that moment, Batman leapt through the open skylight. He seized a monkey wrench from the workbench and ran into the gas chamber. Grabbing a cloth from his utility belt, he jammed it into gas jet, and then untied Rogers. With a powerful swing, he used the moneky wrench to shatter the glass dome, allowing Rogers and himself to be free once more.

Jennings returned, and was startled to see the Dark Knight standing in the lab. He reached for his gun, but before he could fire it, Batman threw a series of Batarangs at him, causing him to drop the gun. He then met Jennings with a flying tackle and wrestled him to the ground. After a brief struggle, Jennings was knocked out cold.

Alfred Stryker had heard the commotion and entered the laboratory. Batman jumped into the shadows.

"Rogers!" Stryker exclaimed, never noticing Batman. "What happened?"

"Your assistant tried to kill me!" Rogers replied, pointing to the fallen Jennings.

Stryker pulled out a knife and began coming toward his partner. "So he didn't get you after all! Well . . . I'll finish you and then throw your body in the acid tank below."

Rogers was completely surprised by the sudden turn of events. "You?"

Suddenly, Batman leapt forward and grabbed Stryker's hand. The scientist was forced to drop the knife. Batman then grabbed Stryker by the throat and slammed him against the wall, holding him with one hand.

"What's the idea?" Rogers shouted. "Why did he try to kill me?"

"This rat was behind the murders," Batman said. "I learned that you, Lambert, Crane, and Stryker were once partners in the Apex Chemical Corporation. Stryker wished to be sole owner, but had no ready cash. Therefore, he made secret contracts with you, to pay a certain sum of money each year until he owned the business. He figured by killing you and stealing the contracts, he wouldn't have to pay."

"A clever scheme," Rogers replied. "And being the contracts were a strict secret between the four of us, our heirs wouldn't know a thing about them. But how did you know?"

Batman pulled the contract he had snatched from the Crane roof. "I secured this contract from one of his hired killers."

Suddenly, Stryker gained the strength of a madman and was able to tear himself free from Batman's grip. "Sure, I did it!" he shouted. "But you won't get me! You won't put me in prison!"

He pulled out a gun from his coat pocket, but Batman had already anticipated such a move, and decked him clear across the face. Stryker fell over the railing.

"He's falling right into the acid tank!" Rogers exclaimed.

Batman threw out a line, and caught Stryker, but the grip was loose, and Stryker was kicked violently. He fell into the acid below.

"A fitting end for his kind, if you ask me," Rogers said, looking over the rail. "How can I ever thank yo-" He turned to find that Batman had left. "Oh."

"Glad I could return as well. Nice to know that New York's elite don't go to bed early," Gordon replied, shaking the billionaire's hand.

"Early? It's only midnight," Bruce said. "We still have the entire night! So, how did your case go?"

"Well, we found Crane murdered. Then we went to find Rogers. Long story short, we found him at Stryker's lab, with Stryker dead. Rogers said Batman prevented Stryker from killing him, and then vanished."

"So, Stryker was behind it?"

Gordon nodded. "He wanted to have complete control of the company, or something to that effect. I don't remember all the details right now."

"I'm sure they're not important right now. Please, come on in, and mingle once more . . . "

Well, it's nice to know that I'm not the only one Batman disappears on, Gordon thought as he walked into the main room. But I shouldn't concern myself with that. Tonight, I'll just relax and try to have a little fun.