"They're all strange in their own right, Jim. My aide told me about the Reynolds girl.* Is this stranger for some reason?"

*(#33)

"In it's own right," Gordon said, puffing smoke from his pipe.

Batman waited silently.

"There's a hotel in the Heights owned by a lady named Alice Silver. Mrs. Silver inherited it from her husband, Blake, when he died of a heart attack last year . . . "

"I'm a busy man, Jim . . . "

"Yes," Gordon said, a little perturbed. "Well, anyway . . . We got a call tonight from a couple, the Breys, who were staying in a newly reopened room at the Silver Inn. It seems that when Jenna Brey opened the closet to put away her clothes she found five skeletons hanging there."

"Did you examine them?"

"Yes, of course."

"Approximate age?"

"Nothing determinable. We had our scientists try to date them but they were all clean. As clean as a model skeleton, I mean."

"Hm."

"Mrs. Silver demanded something be done but she's not closing down the hotel."

"What about the Breys? Where are they?"

"They were moved to another room."

"Hr. Are you sure she won't close down the hotel?"

"Not without a warrant she won't and city hall is more than a little tied up right now. Someone's been screwing with the computers."

Batman sighed. "I'll meet you there in half an hour."

"Where are you go--" Gordon turned to find him gone. "Damn, I hate it when he does that."

"Mrs. Silver," Gordon said. "Sorry to drop in unannounced."

"Unannounced? Unannounced?! You wait until the Gotham Heights ball is getting ready to start when you walk in and you say you're sorry you came in unannounced?!"

Gordon frowned. "I'm sorry. That's all I can say. Do you want me to do something about your closet problem or not?"

Silver glared at him and put her finger to her lips to silence him. "Shhh! There are already enough rumors floating around because of those ignorant Breys. I don't need anyone else blowing the roof off of my establishment. And put out that damned pipe!"

Gordon glared at her as he emptied his tobacco into a nearby ashcan then put his pipe in the pocket of his coat.

"Gordon," a man said behind him. He turned to see an man with red hair and a beard. He was stocky like a lumberjack in a three piece suit.

"Do I know you?"

"Erik Keirgaard. FBI. You called me earlier."

"Erik . . . " Gordon said, trying to place him. He looked at the Swede's eyes and knew him instantly. "Oh. Oh, of course. Mrs. Silver, Agent Keirgaard."

"Ma'am," Keirgaard said, shaking her hand.

"What do you plan to do about this, Agent?" she demanded.

"Well, Mrs. Silver, I haven't even seen the bodies yet."

"There's no bodies to see."

"What?"

"Come with me," Silver said, more than a little suspicious.

Keirgaard stepped inside the darkened closet with a small pen light and began opening their mouths with his gloved hands.

"What are you looking for?" Gordon asked.

"Sign of a blow to the head. With five men there's a good chance at least one of them saw their attacker coming and tried to fight. They were probably knocked out in return."

"How do you know they were attacked, Mister Keirgaard?" Silver asked.

"Do you really think, ma'am, five men just decided to hang themselves on coat hooks and rot?"

Silver was quiet, her lips pursed.

"Finding anything?"

"Nothing useful. This man apparently didn't take very good care of his teeth. This one," he said as he pointed his thumb to a skeleton, "wasn't a man."

"There's a woman in there?" Gordon asked incredulously.

"Yes, sir," Keirgaard said, turning off his light and putting it back in his pocket.

"Four men and a woman . . . " Silver said to herself.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" Keirgaard said. "Do you have any idea who these people might be?"

"No. Not really."

"Do you have any enemies, Mrs. Silver?" Gordon asked.

"Like I told you the first time, I didn't kill these people."

"We never said you did, ma'am," Keirgaard put in. She shot him a cold look.

"What about your husband?" Gordon asked.

"No."

"I'd like to ask you a question about your employees, Mrs. Silver," Keirgaard said.

"Go ahead."

"How many of them working here knew your husband well before he died?"

Silver thought for a moment. "The valet, Norm; the head chef, Lucinda; there's a maid . . . Violet I believe is her name. Blake liked to stay close to home."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Commissioner, he was a very private person. The forty seven years he was with me, I was the only person he ever opened up to. There's no room for feelings or a soul in business, you know, and Blake had the heart of a poet."

"I see," Gordon said reaching instinctively for his pipe then stopping himself.

"Can we see them?" Keirgaard asked. "The people who knew him."

"Why do you want to see them?"

"Because, ma'am, chances are your husband knew something about this. These people have been dead for quite a while from the looks of it and they've been cleaned and polished for years it seems."

"That's very sick, Mister Keirgaard."

"Yes, it is."

"I know I asked before, Mrs. Silver," Gordon said. "But why did you decide to reopen this room?"

"We needed the space for customers."

"Why did you close it down in the first place then?" Keirgaard asked.

"It was my husband's decision."

"That's what I thought. We need to speak to your employees."

"Well, you're going to have to wait until they've finished receiving the guests."

"What time will that be?"

Silver sighed and began to calculate in her head. "Midnight, maybe?"

Keirgaard grunted his dissatisfaction behind his warm smile. "That's fine Mrs. Silver. May we talk with the Breys? They're still here I assume."

"Yes, I offered to pay for their new room. It's suite number four oh nine."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"We'll be back for your employees," Gordon said.

"I'm sure you will."

"Hr. I can't. This blasted beard itches."

Gordon stifled a laugh as he lit up his pipe.

"What's your gut telling you, Jim?"

"Silver is innocent, belligerent though she may be."

"Mm."

"You disagree?"

"No, I agree. Silver doesn't like being left in the dark. Something is going on here that she knows nothing about."

"Either that or she's a very good actor."

"True."

"What's your hypothesis, Batman?"

"I think it's very likely that the five people in the closet had some intimate connection to Blake Silver."

"Do you think the Breys will know anything?"

"No. That's why we're visiting Silver's office."

"Hr. It's possible," Keirgaard said holding up a Polaroid of a middle aged woman in a red dress.

"Who's she?"

"No idea but she stands a good chance of being the original owner of the female bones."

Keirgaard inspected the picture for a moment then turned it over. No name or any sort of identification. He rifled through the folder where he had found the picture and came across a letter. Taking it out of the file cabinet and positioning the pen light in his mouth so he could see he scanned over it.

"Roger Chamberlain."

"What?"

"Roger Chamberlain. He used to be on the board here before Silver legally owned the building."

"So Blake Silver killed him."

"Possibly but why would he hang his bones in the closet and who are the four others?"

"No motive."

"Exactly. We need to talk with his associates."

"Mrs. Phillips," Gordon said as he handed the woman a plate from the sink. She hadn't stopped her whirlwind around the kitchen since the two of them walked in. There was work to be done. "Can we ask you a few questions?"

"Don't see how I can stop you."

"Did you know Blake Silver?" Keirgaard asked.

"Sho' did. He was a good man. I hated to see ‘im go."

"Can you tell us how he died, Mrs. Phillips?" Gordon asked.

"Haht attack. Died in his office. That woman drove him to it."

Keirgaard glanced at Gordon. "Have you heard anything about the room occupied by a couple named the Breys?"

"Oh, of course," Lucinda said. "Place was all a buzzin' about them last night."

"I see. Do you know anything about the skeletons, ma'am?"

"No."

"You don't have any idea who they might have been?" Gordon pressed.

"Sho' don't."

"Have you seen them?"

"No," she said, stopping what she was doing. "I ain't. All I know is they ruining a good man's reputation when he dead and can't defend himself no mo'. It's a damn shame and I blame that woman for ever reopening the room."

Keirgaard stood from where he had been leaning against the island and took her hand. "Thank you for your help, ma'am. We really do appreciate it."

"She doesn't like Alice Silver."

"Apparently. Is there anything to it?"

"I doubt it but then we don't really know enough yet to make any calls."

"So we've heard."

"I take it you've heard about the Brey room?" Keirgaard said.

"Yes."

"Do you have any idea who the skeletons might've belonged to?"

"There were five of them, yes?"

"Yes."

"I remember, around twenty years ago, Roger Chamberlain died of a heart attack."

"Heart attack?"

"That's what they said. I've had a heart attack Mister Keirgaard. They're not as . . . peaceful as that."

"No," Gordon put in. "They're not very nice at all."

"Blake Silver died of a heart attack, didn't he?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did you see his body?"

"No. I didn't really want to."

"I understand . . . I just have one more question."

"Yes?"

"Can you tell us anything about Blake's personal life? Enemies, lovers, anything he might have mentioned off handedly?"

"I know he and the board of directors were always having trouble before they were all dead in the ground."

"Do you think Blake killed them?"

"No!" Norm said. "Blake was . . . Weak. He was a good businessman but he couldn't even fire a man to his face. Did most of his work by letters."

"Did he keep any of these letters?" Gordon asked.

"I think Mrs. Silver burned them all when he died."

"Or blocking out painful memories."

"I'm thinking her conscience got to her."

"For what, Jim?"

"The woman, the one you found the picture of, that certainly wasn't Alice Silver. Even twenty years ago. She could have found out about Blake's having an affair and killed him in a blind rage."

"Again, that accounts for one skeleton. What about the others?"

"Blake wore a mask. For his employees he was docile, almost like a beaten dog, but behind closed doors he turned into Mister Hyde."

"I don't know . . . "

"He did lock away the room."

"Yes, he did. Still . . . Hiding the bodies in the closet seems so . . . Obvious for a man intelligent enough to run an extremely successful hotel."

"The obvious is often the most overlooked, Batman."

Keirgaard laughed. "Yes. Yes it is. Let's go visit the maid. After all, the skeletons were unnaturally clean."

"What do you want? I have a job to do!" she said in response to their greeting and Gordon's flashing his badge.

"We'd like to ask you a few questions in regard to the Brey room," Keirgaard said.

"I know nothing."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. If you harass me I will sue you."

Keirgaard said nothing as he produced the picture of the woman he had found in Blake Silver's filing cabinet.

"Do you know this woman?"

"Madre dios . . . " Violet said, clapping a hand to her chest.

"Something wrong?" Gordon said.

"It is . . . My daughter."

"Hm, yes. She was horrified to know she had been cleaning her daughter's bones."

"You don't seem to worried about it."

"I'm sorry we had to do it to her but she was involved in all of this."

"Yes, but she didn't kill them. She couldn't have."

"No. No reason."

"What do we do now?"

Keirgaard opened a door leading out a the stairwell.

"Talk to one of the new employees," he said. "Who knows what we'll learn from the mouth of babes."

"Hm? Oh, yes, can I help you?"

"We're investigating the Brey room," Gordon said. "Would you mind answering a few questions?"

"What kind of questions?"

"Related to the skeletons," Keirgaard said. "You don't have a problem with that, do you?"

"Does Mrs. Silver know about this?"

"Yes," Gordon said.

"Okay, I'll talk. I just want to make sure she knows I'm doing this. I don't need another pay cut."

Keirgaard glanced at Gordon. "Pay cut?"

"Yeah. Mrs. Silver isn't too high on paying her employees. Not like Mr. Silver was at least."

"I see," Keirgaard said. "Can you tell me if the name Roger Chamberlain means anything to you?"

The waitress rolled her eyes, searching her brain, then snapped back into reality. "Nope."

"Do you know this woman?" Gordon said, producing the picture.

She shook her head.

"This is the daughter of Violet Martinez," Gordon said. "You know her?"

"Of course. Violet's been here forever."

"Were you aware of the fact that she was cleaning the skeletons in the Brey room?" Keirgaard asked.

"Ew, no."

"Hm. Thank you miss, I'm sorry we bothered you."

"No problem. I just hope I helped."

Keirgaard stopped at the door that would lead back to the stairwell.

"You said Mrs. Silver cuts your pay?"

"Yes, sir."

"Any idea why?"

"I guess she doesn't like the thought of her cheap help getting ahead."

"I think we've found a vital link."

"The part about the pay?"

"Yes. It can be a hell of a motive."

"Still no suspect though."

"None that are really tangible."

"That's what I meant."

"Fact: Angela Martinez had an affair with Blake Silver; fact: both Blake Silver and Roger Chamberlain, who happens to be one of the skeletons in the closet, both died of a heart attack; fact: Norm the Valet wasn't convinced of Chamberlain's heart attack; fact: Alice Silver is notorious for her pay cuts; fact: Lucinda Phillips has a grudge against Alice Silver and blames her for killing Blake."

"I hate it when you do that."

"I've got our killer."

"I love it when you do that."

"Lucinda Phillips," the Batman said, standing in the corner beside Alice Silver's empty bed. "You're under arrest."

"How could you, Lucinda?" Alice asked as she came out of her closet.

Lucinda looked between them, a tight scowl settling on her face. The direct approach them. She reached into her night robe and pulled out a revolver.

"You gonna die!" Lucinda screamed as she pointed the gun and fired at Alice.

Jim Gordon, standing behind Alice Silver, grabbed her and pulled her to the floor as Batman kicked Lucinda's gun away from them then grabbed her wrist, paralyzing the nerves, and took the gun away. She beat against his chest as he stared down at her stoic as the stories said. He pressed a nerve in her shoulder and she dropped to her knees. Gordon cuffed her.

"How . . . How did you find out?" Lucinda, nearly weeping, said.

"May I?" Gordon asked. Batman nodded his consent. "You had an affair with Blake Silver. The two of you wanted to be rich and successful without a board breathing over your shoulder. Blake was too kind to even think about killing them and certainly wouldn't have allowed you to do it if he had known but you wanted success so bad you could taste it. The vial on the floor there. Where'd you get that?"

"I have connections."

Batman picked it up and held it to the lamp light. "Ice. Designer drug. Injected right into the heart it would kill a person in minutes. I expected it was some sort of drug. Who did you get this from?"

"I ain't sayin'. I plead the fifth."

Batman moved to force the information from her when Gordon shook his head.

"Sorry, friend. I can't allow it. Vigilantism is illegal in this state."

Batman glared at him. The Fantastic Act* tying his hands again.

*(Fantastic Four mini-series)

"But why?" Alice, nearly in hysterics, asked. "Why did she do it? Why was she trying to kill me?"

"I didn't like you! I never did! You was a leech on Blake and he didn't even know it. He was too good fo' you!"

Batman stared down at her. "Shut up," he said. Lucinda quaked and was quiet.

"She wanted to share the wealth, Mrs. Silver," Gordon said. "Let her fellow servants get a little ahead. When you started making pay cuts that was the final straw."

"Because I got the hotel instead of her when Blake died. Slut."

"Hm. Yes and no," Batman said. "She and Blake were having an affair but Lucinda isn't immortal. Eventually he lost interest in her and his mind turned to Violet Martinez's girl Angela. You couldn't stand it, could you, Lucinda? That you were too old for him?"

"We was good together."

"Mm."

"Lucinda didn't like a taste of her own medicine and she took her vengeance on Blake and Angela the way she had Chamberlain and all the others that had stood in their way. Angela's mother wound up cleaning her daughter's bones in an insane effort to help Lucinda's cause."

"Your fault, Lucinda. A mother's grief is on your hands along with the blood of five innocent men."

"They wasn't innocent," Lucinda said sternly.

"They're also not the ones headed to prison," Gordon responded. "Murder, conspiracy to commit murder and drug possession. That's a life sentence."

"I ain't got much life left," Lucinda said. "Long as I ain't gotta see her I can deal with it."

"Good luck," Batman said. "It's not going to be as nice as this."

"Mrs. Silver," Gordon said, turning his attention back to her. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Y-yes. I think so."

"We'll send someone down to take care of the bodies."

"Thank you, Commissioner. I'm sorry I was so harsh to you."

Gordon shook his head and held up a hand to tell her he understood. He was used to it by now.

"Thank you too Bat-- Where'd he go?"

"Out the window," Lucinda said.

Alice bit her lip. "How rude."

Gordon smiled. "See you soon," he said to the night sky. "See you soon."