He was twelve years old. The Haly Circus was in Blüdhaven prepared to show their main event: The Flying Graysons.

He was standing on the platform waiting for his turn. His mother had just swung out. His father was hanging from the trapeze by the knees. His mother released and flew into his father's hands. They swung out and with a simple maneuver she was on her own bar and returning.

He swung out next. It was time for his signature move, the quadruple somersault. He swung a few times to build momentum and then released. As always he nailed it. He returned to the platform and waited once again. The roar of the crowd pushed his adrenalin limits. This was what he lived for.

The next part of the act required his mother to swing and out be caught by his father. Then he would swing out and his father would catch him and hold both of them above the crowd. Then they would return to the platform together. His mother completed her portion perfectly. He swung out but before he released he heard a snap. The rope of the trapeze holding his parents broke.

Silently he hung from the trapeze and helplessly watched his parents fall. In that instance, his life was changed forever.

After everything was over, he examined the ropes and found they had been cut. Though he didn't know why, he knew his parents had been murdered. The Blüdhaven Police tried to pass it off as an accident but the ropes proved otherwise.

He spent the rest of his life in one foster home after another. He was one of the few kids who ran of to join the circus and actually joined it. Sooner or later he was always found and a new foster home was waiting on him. After a while he gave up and accepted his fate. He re-directed his energy on a new task: vengeance.

He was fifteen when he found out that his parents murder had ended up in an unsolved case file. From that point on he had one goal. His plan was to join the Blüdhaven Police Department and find his parents killers.

It was now the tenth anniversary of his parent's death. He had finished four years studying pre-law and criminology at Hudson University. Yet he couldn't concentrate on his studies. He needed to find his parents killers. So he dropped out and joined the Police Academy.

He quickly moved to the top of his class and became officer Richard "Dick" Grayson of the Blüdhaven Police Department.

Dick followed him taking in every detail. He wore his navy blue uniform with pride. The gold shield on his chest shined. He smiled sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders. "What's the hurry?"

"Don't get smart with me Grayson. We don't pay you for that," the sergeant growled. "Your partner's waiting in the garage."

The two men exited the precinct and entered the garage. Several patrol cars still sat in their spots unused. "Hey, Taylor," the sergeant called. "Here's your rookie."

Dwayne Taylor turned around to get his first view of Dick Grayson. He was immediately impressed with the rookie's neatness. He also carried himself with an air of confidence. He extended his hand. "Dwayne Taylor."

Dick grasped the extended hand firmly. "Dick Grayson." He replied with a smile.

"Hold it right there!" Dwayne yelled from behind the patrol car. He already had his revolver leveled at the two bandits. "Drop 'em and assume the position."

"I'm sorry, Dwayne," Dick replied. "I acted without thinking."

"Yes you did, but we're both still alive. No harm, no foul! Now tell me, where did you pick those moves up?"

He approached the door as if he had business there. He looked both directions before entering. He quietly closed the door behind him. The boxes of files seemed to go forever. He searched the boxes looking for the 1991 files, the year his parents died. The earliest date he found was 1996.

"What are you looking for?" a very stern voice asked.

"Why did I ever leave Baltimore?" he complained.

Guy Gardner wasn't a happy man. He had been an attorney in Baltimore for several years when he decided he wanted more. He ran for D.A. there twice and didn't even make a decent showing. So he moved to Blüdhaven.

His election campaign was a promise to clean up the 'haven. He won the election but found that cleaning up was a much bigger task than he ever imagined. The District Attorney's office had become a joke before he assumed command. The police were more corrupt than most of the criminals and even though he couldn't prove it he knew the Mayor's office was just as dirty.

There were a few good cops but they were few and difficult to identify. He needed help inside the force. He had tried the Internal Affairs Division but they weren't ready to give up their kickbacks. BPD had become the most corrupted police force in America and Guy couldn't make a case against any of them. His term would end in another two years and if he couldn't clean things up by then he would be looking for a new job.

"My parents were murdered ten years ago. It was unsolved."

"So you thought you would look into it."

Dick nodded.

"Well you wasted your time. We don't keep files over five years old at the precinct. Older files are kept in a warehouse downtown. I'll ask our computer tech to see if it in our computer records but I doubt it. Unsolved cases don't get priority in the 'haven."

"Thanks Dwayne."

"Don't mention it and I mean that!" he said sternly. "Just don't go off on your own like that. Ask for help from now on."

Dwayne took a few steps and turned back to face Dick. "Whatever you do, don't go down to that warehouse on your own. You'll get yourself killed," he said as an afterthought. "If you get caught down there, I may kill you myself."

"I don't know, boss," Number One said. "Do you really think we can do this?" Zucco had learned early the importance of having an objective mind as his lieutenant. He was the only one allowed to question his orders.

"Of cors we can! Intergang's losin' prestige eva day," Tony bragged choosing to ignore his lieutenant.

"Look boss, I know that Spider-Man and the Shadow having been giving Intergang trouble in New York, but this is the 'haven."

"Yeah dis is da 'haven and becuz it's da 'haven we got arselves an edge. Meet ar edge, boys."

Dudley Soames entered the room. He was stiff and silent.

"Welcome to da 'haven, boys. Where da cops are da best dat munny can buy," Tony stated smiling. "As of taday da Maggia family is takin Blüdhaven. We're gonna run da show."

"Bad day, kid?" Jack Monroe, the bartender asked.

Dick nodded.

"Don't drink this stuff often do you?"

"No," Dick replied.

"Whatever the problem is that stuff isn't the answer. It may help for a little while but it won't solve any problems."

"Isn't that where you come in?"

"Sometimes, kid." Jack laughed. "But the best solution to any problem is action. Problems rarely solve themselves."

"You're right!" Dick exclaimed. Rising he placed a bill on the bar and walked out. "Thanks Jack."

"Any time, kid any time."

"It's too hot for that," he breathed tossing the mask on his bed. "I've still got to hide my identity."

He had decided to go to the warehouse on his own. He found the address by slipping a twenty to the local beat cop. It was only two blocks away. As soon as he found a suitable disguise he would be on his way.

Frantically he searched his dresser drawers for anything. Finally he found a red flannel handkerchief. He pulled it across his face and covered his nose and mouth.

"This will do."

He glanced at his side arm for a moment. "Can't risk it," he said. "I can't take a chance on shooting other cops."

"Probably another vagrant," her partner replied.

"Is there a black and white nearby?"

"Yeah."

"Then we should probably have them check it out."

"How am I ever going to find anything in this mess?"

The warehouse contained the records for every precinct in Blüdhaven. He passed through shelf after shelf of cardboard boxes. Then his flashlight shined on a box that read: 1991 homicide. He tore into the box and began searching through the manila folders. He found one labeled: Graysons. He pulled it and shoved it into his shirt.

He lifted the box and started to replace it when two beams of light focused on him.

"Hold it right there, pal," one of the officers called.

Dick dropped the box and ran for the exit. Both officers fired. He made it into the street. He remembered his revolver on his bed. He wished it had occurred to him earlier that the cops might shoot him. He ran to the nearest fire escape and headed for the rooftops. He leapt across to the next building hoping to lose the pursuing officers.

The two officers followed him on the street. They watched as he jumped from building to building. Dick could see them and knew he had to lose them before he made it to his apartment. He jumped from the building and caught the edge of the fire escape. He swung and released and landed in the trash dumpster. Without a pause he rolled from the dumpster and landed on his feet. He turned to run up the alley when the cop fired again. The bullet struck his arm.

Dick realized he was behind the The BlackJack. He ran for the back entrance and pushed the door. Jack was standing there getting ready to take out the trash.

"Help," Dick pleaded, pulling the mask to reveal his face.

"Sure thing kid. This way!" Jack answered dropping his trash. "I gotcha covered."

"Hey Zucco," he said, "remember that circus deal from ten years ago? I think it might just be back to bite us in the ass."