Batman had studied one particular series of crimes. Throughout Gotham, and even on the outskirts, people from all walks of life were being attacked and robbed, and very often murdered.

Those who had escaped the robberies alive had all reported seeing some kind of tattoo on the hands of their attackers. Tattoos weren't an uncommon feature amongst the criminals of New York City, but the presence of the same tattoo over and over again, in such a visible place meant something.

And Batman was lucky enough to have caught sight of some Tattoo Gang members right beneath him on the street below. At least he thought they were from the Tattoo Gang. He could count four of them from his perch on the fire escape, and they were about to mug a woman who was walking home alone, coming back from what seemed like a waitressing job.

The four men surrounded her instantly.

"Not too bright to go walkin' around during a crime wave, lady!"

"Hand over your purse!"

One of them pulled a pistol from his pocket and pointed it at the woman.

Instantly, a whirring, whirling object zoomed out of the sky and knocked the pistol out of the hoodlum's hand. It returned to a black-gloved hand.

The muggers turned in time to see the Batman descend upon them. They were so amazed by his appearance that they allowed their intended victim to slip away.

With one punch from the Batman, one gang member was on the ground, gasping. A kick to the chin knocked another one down. One of them attempted to karate kick Batman, who stopped the kick midway, then bent his assailant's leg back in a swift and crippling motion. He took the other thug's legs out with a devastating low kick and knocked the wind out of his opponent while he fell to the ground. Now the muggers lay on the ground, gasping.

Batman looked around and noticed that the woman had fled. At least she had not been robbed, or worse. He grabbed the hand of one of the fallen crooks to reveal the Lion Tattoo. He had found the men he was looking for.

"Where did you get these tattoos from? Who are you working for?"

"We won't tell you nothing!" one of them called out, slowly getting to his feet. Batman kneed him in the stomach, and was going to interrogate him further, when police sirens began to sound in the distance.

Batman knew about the new law forbidding vigilantism in New York City, so he knew he had to get out of there fast. He fired a grappling hook to a nearby rooftop, and prepared to ascend.

As the police approached, the thugs could only barely stand up. There was no way they could escape capture now. The Batman let a small card flutter to the ground, to let the authorities know whom to thank for the capture.

In his home gym, Bruce Wayne executed a perfect back flip in his home gymnasium, before landing perfectly on his feet.

"Master Bruce, your breakfast."

Bruce's butler, Alfred, walked into the gymnasium with the same formal air in which he would walk into a dining room full of esteemed guests. He extended a tray to Bruce containing eggs Benedict, toast, orange juice, and the Daily Planet.

"Thank you, Alfred." As Bruce looked at the headlines, he was shocked.

"More tattoo muggings!"

"Tattoo muggings, sir?"

Bruce explained the ongoing investigation into the muggings to Alfred.

"Might I remind Master Bruce that he has a Master's Degree in Criminology from Empire State University? And that he was top of his class?"

"And?" Bruce asked, wiping the sweat from his brow with a towel.

"Don't you think you might be able to assist the police with this case, Master Bruce? Perhaps your brilliant detective skills might be able to help them see something they have heretofore not seen."

"Alfred," Bruce said in an almost frustrated tone. "The normal police methods have failed here. For all the great detectives they have working for the NYPD, they can't trace the source of these tattoo muggings. If anybody wants to solve this case, they're going to have to work outside the boundaries of the law."

"Surely Master Bruce knows about the law banning vigilantism."

"Yes, I know. Seems strange to me to ban all superhero activity in a city just because of one accident."

Alfred could tell that his master was getting frustrated, and that it was time to drop the subject.

But inside Bruce's head the matter of the tattoo muggings burned. His brilliantly deductive mind turned over clues and sifted through the information he had gleaned from the news articles he had read. He secretly ached to take a crack at the case. But how?

"This is Vicki Vale reporting here from what has been known as Crime Alley, in Gotham. Another of the tattoo muggings has taken place, this time of a family that was trying to go home. Witnesses say that the family looked a little well-off to be in this part of town, and that they seemed lost. They were set upon by the tattoo muggers, and the husband and wife were killed after being robbed of their belongings. The surviving child said that she saw a tattoo on the hands of the robbers . . . "

An attack in Crime Alley! Bruce had not thought of that place in a long time. Crime Alley was the place where his parents had been killed, along with Tony Stark's parents and his cousin Morgan. Bruce still had a hard time remembering exactly who had killed them, except it was someone with personal involvement with his father.*

*(Bruce never really came to the realization of who killed his parents until the year 2000, when he was recovering from a bullet wound delivered by Deadshot.)

In the background, Vicki Vale's report was still coming over the television. "Witnesses also said a strange snakelike creature was seen in the same area as where the mugging took place, almost as if it was working with the muggers . . . "

Bruce wiped the summer sweat from his brow. He was hot with anger, as well. He knew that he could no longer stay uninvolved. He looked out the window into the hot summer moonlight and tried to think of what he could do.

A bat flew in, and its silhouette against the wall was majestic and frightening. At once it was an emblem of fear, and a symbol of swiftness and of the unexpected.

"That's it! I'll become a bat! Criminals are a superstitious and cowardly lot . . . it will work perfectly!"*

*(Thanks to Bob Kane for the original version of this line, the inspiration for this origin story, and to everyone who has redone it since then.)

His study was covered with sketches. Alfred had to pick his way across the floor to avoid slipping on the papers.

"I say!" he commented. "Perhaps Master Bruce would like me to organize his papers for him, before I fall down and break something . . . "

Bruce finally came up with a design he liked. He was able to get Alfred, who was extremely good at sewing clothes, to sew the costume.

After a few tries, Alfred came up with the perfect costume. A batlike cape completed the fearsome garb.

When Alfred saw Bruce in the Batman costume for the first time, he almost trembled.

"Rather frightful, Master Bruce. Most frightful."

The Batman smiled a grim smile.

One day, during a break in their work, Tony pulled out a sketch he had made.

"Look at this drawing, Bruce! With this suit of armor, you'll be invulnerable to criminals. It's got flying bat-wings, bat-claws, and . . . "

Bruce took a long, hard look at Tony's drawing and then shook his head.

"Tony . . . thank you for designing this . . . but I can't wear it. I wouldn't be able to do anything in a suit like that."

"But you need to be protected! The bad guys out there today, especially the supervillains, they pack a lot of power! One power-blast, my friend, and you're history!"

"Only if the power blast manages to hit me. If I wear something heavy like that thing you've designed, I won't be able to move like I need to. Besides, I want the Batman to be fighting crime, not the suit."

Tony Stark shrugged. "Whatever you say. You know, I was thinking about going into the superhero gig too. Maybe I'll use some of my designs for myself . . . " Tony grabbed a pencil and started crossing out the Bat-designs on the drawing. He was clearly inspired.

Bruce chuckled heartily at the thought of his brilliantly inventive friend fighting crime. "Your alter ego would have to be Technology Titan, or Captain Computer, or . . . "

"Or Iron Man," Tony said proudly.

"Well, we'll see if there are any crooks left over on the streets for Iron Man after the Batman gets to work!"

The two friends chuckled and went back to work.

This time, it was media magnate Morgan Edge and his guests who had been robbed of their money, jewelry, and belongings by a group of men wearing eagle tattoos on their hands. A giant eagle was said to have soared over the outside patio where the party was being held, and to have attacked the partygoers as the robbery went on.

The ongoing Tattoo crimes continued to frustrate the police and their sharpest detectives.

Batman stood in the garage portion of the Batcave, by the shining new Batmobile. He was ready to go out into the night for his first assault on crime.

"So, you believe, Master Bruce, that by putting this suit on and going out into the night, you will be able to stop the Tattoo Gang?"

"It's worth a try, Alfred. I feel like I have been preparing all my life for something like this."

"Well perhaps you have, Master Bruce. However, as your personal assistant, I feel compelled to go along with you, for your own protection." Alfred had his bowler hat in hand, which he put onto his head with a flourish. "I shall wait in the car . . . in the Batmobile, and you may go and fight crime."

"No, Alfred. If I'm going to do this, I have to do it alone. And you have to promise me, no matter what, that you'll never tell anyone that I'm Batman."

Bruce could tell that Alfred was bristling at the thought of letting Bruce face danger alone. It was almost as if Alfred was more than just a butler . . . more like an uncle or something.

Alfred frowned. "As you wish, Master Bruce . . . ahem, Batman. Good luck!"

The Batmobile roared out of the Batcave, into the night.

There were traces of old, long-dead wood in the sample from the thug's boot that contained a high degree of moisture. Batman analyzed the wood closely. It could have come from one of the many dilapidated old buildings in Gotham, or it could have come from the old docks . . .

Behind him, Batman heard a sound like an eagle screaming. He turned, almost too late, to feel himself being picked up in the air by the huge talons of a gigantic eagle. It pulled him up into the sky and soared over to the yacht, where it let Batman down roughly.

Batman picked himself up as the eagle vanished. A bunch of guards surrounded him, and then a cloaked figure came out of the yacht cabin.

He took off the hood of the cloak to reveal a face with a fierce lined pattern, almost like that worn by the Maoris of New Zealand, with a tattoo of a fist on his forehead.

"So, you're the Batman, eh?" he snickered. "You think you can take down the Tattooed Man, do you? They say you strike fear into the hearts of evildoers . . . I strike fear into the hearts of everyone! And tonight, you will know fear."

Every guard on the yacht deck pounced on Batman at once. They beat and clubbed him with various cudgels until he lay unconscious on the deck.

"Master Br . . . Batman! Are you there, Batman?" Alfred's concerned voice echoed through the Batmobile's interior and received no response.

"Put him in that old diving bell we found," the Tattooed Man ordered. "Tie him up . . . use rolling hitch knots! He'll never get out of those!"

The Tattooed Man's henchmen tied up Batman's unconscious form and threw him in the diving bell.

"If he comes to while he's in that old diving bell, he'll have a mouthful of water before he knows it!" the Tattooed Man chuckled. "Throw the bell overboard!"

The diving bell splashed into the water, and the Tattooed Man's henchmen lowered it down into the water, lowering Batman to a watery doom . . .