In just a few days, things got a little too tight in the nest. One night, the sound of wings flapping against the door. Next morning, all 4 robins flew out at once, launched into a new big world. #birdsofinstagram#robin#spring
A lighter flicked on, as a small flame came out, with a cigarette slowly brought over to light it, only to be brought up to the lips of Police Sergeant Jim Gordon, in an elevator as he let out a puff of smoke, as his elevator stopped, and the doors opened to a private suite, damaged by gunshots. The sergeant walked out of the elevator, and into the hallway. Just from the state of it, he could tell it was worse than he thought. “Sergeant,” one of the SWAT members greeted him, shaking his hand. “You’re acting negotiator for GCPD, correct?” “I am,” Jim replied. “Welcome to the show. We’ve got the father and the first responder dead in the living room, mother already left the building, maid’s outside holding the girl hostage. She’s got a gun.” “What else is new?” Gordon sighed letting out a puff of smoke. “What’s our strategy?” Gordon just thought for a moment. “...let me investigate the apartment, see if there’s a motive. Worst case scenario, I go out there naked...” “Alright...just remember the clock’s ticking,” The SWAT member assured, gently tapping Jim’s back as he walked off. Gordon let out a sigh. “This is going to be a long night....” he muttered to himself, making his way to the living room, seeing the two bodies. Bullet wounds in the throat, chest, and arm. Precise shooting. Most likely ex-military. Jim raised an eyebrow, and looked over at a tablet that was in the father’s cold dead hand. He reached down to grab it, to reveal an ad for a maid service. He was going to replace her. “Damn...” Jim muttered, taking his cigarette out, dropped it to the ground, and stepped on it to kill it, then fixed his glasses as he walked over to the daughter’s room. It reminded him of his daughter’s room. Girly, pink, and filled with posters of boy bands, models, and more models. The officer looked over at a photo on the dresser. A photo of the daughter and the maid. They were close. “Son of a bitch...” he muttered, walking out of the room, to the opening of the balcony. And before he knew it, a gun outside went off, and a SWAT member was hit in the shoulder as he dropped to the ground. (CIC)
All the information that the G.C.P.D. had on the three mystery murders were sent to the batcomputer for Bruce and Alfred to look over with the promise that they would find a connection that the police could not see. Now sitting in front of his computer Bruce got a better look at the three files that he glanced at the other night when Gordon had originally showed him.
So far all cross references have come up negative for Bruce, neither of the victims were close in age, neither had the same type of job or ethnicity. None of them had lived in the same part of the city or blood type, none had broken bones or any trouble with the law. Bruce heard the soft footsteps behind him that alerted him to Alfred who was walking down the stone steps that led from the manor to the batcave.
Without taking his eyes off the computer screen Bruce calls to the man who had raised him from diapers.
"I've had no luck finding any trace of a connection between the three people, there has to be something that I am overlooking. There has never been a record of a serial killer killing completely random people, they always have a type they go after."
Alfred stands off to the side of Bruce holding a shining silver tray in his hand as he stares at Bruce.
'I brought down some French onion soup and a sandwich, you haven't eaten or slept in the past thirty seven hours. Maybe some food and a nights rest will sharpen your senses to find this mystery clue.'
Alfred placed the tray on the side of Bruce before looking up at the file of the male victim before the screen changes to a blinking Batsignal.