[CENTER][img]http://i.imgur.com/Zg1lMkL.jpg?2[/img][COLOR=bLACK][B][H3]An Informal Opener[/H3][/B][/COLOR][/CENTER]

Gotham had been quiet long enough that someone who didn't know it might have made the mistake of thinking that the worst was over. That the cities worst side had gone to sleep, to leave the decent, well meaning citizenry in peace. Anybody that did know it would have known it was just a ruse. Gotham doesn't sleep, Gotham bides it's time, silent and patient, waiting for the best time to strike.

Now it was agitated, causing trouble and apt to cause more, like a bad tempered mutt rousing itself from a fitful rest, growls still fresh in it's throat and hackles on the rise. It was often like this, the city, going months with barely uttering a peep before finally, with no warning, exploding into violence, like she was just waiting for you to let your guard down, waiting until you exposed your throat.

The Kush brothers, died after being introduced to a new and deadly bio-toxin. Triple homicide on the East side, signs of a gangland execution. A young Jane Done found lying in a motel room, missing a face. The body of a Bludhaven city councilwoman appearing, sans one foot. Rumblings of a rumor, the Maroni's planning a homecoming, their old soldiers already laying the groundwork. A new drug on the streets, leaving a trail of bodies in it's wake.

Business as usual for the Batman.

The MCU were already on the triple homicide, and Batman trusted Bullock's hand-picked squad to take care of that efficiently, or at the very least keep the mess to a minimum before he could intervene. He'd set Robin to investigating the Maroni matter, working the streets, trying to see if he couldn't make something more solid out of the whisperings. [i]'Matches Malone'[/i] had already been utilized in the hunt for information concerning the new drugs, putting the word out that he was looking to buy in on the drug trade, but was only interested in the hottest stuff on the market. Now it was just a waiting game. The Bludhaven councilwoman was Dick's territory, and Batman knew just how welcome he was there. He'd mention the discovery to Oracle, see if she couldn't pass on the information, though chances were high that she'd done that already.

[color=black][i]Now it's just for me to decide whether I deal with the Kush's or the Jane Doe.[/i][/color] But that was no contest at all, not if he was being honest with himself. The Jane Doe was an unknown, a potential innocent, certainly a victim. The Kush's were a different matter entirely. While also victims they were certainly not innocents, being scum-bags of the highest order. They'd been on his radar for a while. It was a shame someone had gotten to them before he had, and an inexcusable crime that their punisher had killed them, but Batman couldn't stop that small voice at the back of his head that whispered they had earned their fate. While both crimes merited his attention, he would seek justice for the Jane Doe fist, if only because he sympathized with her more easily than he did with the Kush's.

Jane Doe had been discovered in Saint Julian's Hostel, Gotham Village. Batman contacted GCPD Central to inform them that he would handle this one, and not to send any other officers that might get in his way until he had performed his own investigation. [Color=Black][i]One of the perks of know longer being an 'urban myth'. I don't have to sneak around crime-scenes anymore while worrying about nervous patrolmen taking shots at me.[/i][/color] The Car made quick time through the mostly deserted streets of Gotham. He knew his city well, and could traverse it's streets faster than just about any man alive.

Saint Julian's was named after a small town in Malta, the birthplace of the Hostel's original owner. While not the cleanest, best staffed, or even top located of tourist accommodations, it did boast cheap boarding, and for that reason alone it attracted dozens, if not hundreds, of residents a week. The victim had been discovered in one of Saint Julian's few private rooms. The room had been paid for in advance, in cash, with a policy of [i]do not disturb[/i] requested. The staff had acquiesced, at least until the advance had run out, then they came knocking, looking for more money. No one had answered, so they had unlocked the door and let themselves in. It was then they found the body, sealed the door, and contacted GCPD.

He parked the Car a couple blocks away, hiding it down an alley way, before using the roof tops and a fire escape to gain access into Saint Julian's. He entered through a window on the hallway that lead to Jane Doe's private room. There wasn't any uniformed officers guarding the door in the hallway, as there might be in other cities. Instead they were all stationed on the lower levels. [color=Black][i]Gordon's orders? Making it easier for me to get in unnoticed, preserving my mystique, or just the uniforms showing their own form of respect?[/i][/color] He wasn't sure which, only that he didn't need the concession being made for him. Then again, it might be because of general incompetence. With Gotham police you just never knew, even after Gordon introduced his more stringent recruiting policies.

Entering the private room he took the scene in quickly. About 6' by 6', the room had just enough space for a single bed, a wash basin, and a foot locker. There was a window facing the street, an all night bakery across the way. 

Jane Doe lay upon the bed, cover's neat underneath her. One look could inform even the casual observer that she had been carefully posed, stripped naked, legs tight together, hands folded upon her chest, just above the heart, faceless head left at just the right angle for the outside streetlight to bathe it in light through the night. [color=black][i]Killer took a great deal of effort to ensure she was found like this.[/i][/color] Batman stepped in for a closer look. 

Obviously the first thing he noticed was her lack of a face, the skin peeled back and removed. The cut, starting just under the jaw tracing around her ears then under her hairline before looping back around, was steady, no undue tearing caused by a shaky or rushed hand. One could almost describe it as professional. [i][color=black]Killer is a doctor, a surgeon, perhaps? Regardless, he's done this sort of thing before.[/color][/i] There was enough blood around the wound to indicate she was still alive when her face was removed, though the preciseness seemed to indicate that she was unable to struggle against him at the time. [i][color=black]No signs of restraints used. Probably unconscious  at the time. Toxicology report should sign some light on the cause.[/color][/i]

The wound that killed her was a single stab to the chest. [i][Color=black]Small puncture, right under the left breast, probably used a stiletto knife. Went in between the third and fourth rib, straight into the heart. He'd already had his fun with the face. This was quick, efficient. Killer was a pro. Knew what he was doing.[/color][/i] From the surrounding blood splatter it was logical to assume she'd been killed in the room.

By inspecting her body it seemed she was in her late twenties to mid thirties, fit, athletic. She was toned with muscle, especially around the shoulders and arms, her tanned skin criss-crossed with old scarring. Her knuckles, knees and elbows bore heavy callousing, more evidence of a violent life. [color=Black][i]A fighter then. Perhaps she fought back against her murderer.[/i][/color] While there was some heavy bruising on her torso and upper legs there was no sign that she had retaliated, so he was forced to conclude she'd been taken unawares, either that or she knew her assailant, let them get in close enough so they could surprise her without struggle. No other identifiers upon her skin, no tattoos or birthmarks.

Her hair was a mousy blonde, cropped close to the skull, her nails well trimmed. [i][color=black]More evidence she was a fighter.[/color][/i] 

Preliminary investigation complete, he retrieved some small tweezers, swabs and vials from his belt pouches that he would use to collect hair, saliva and blood samples that would be studied more thoroughly later, see if he couldn't find an identity to match the woman. 

An anger was building up inside him, cold and smouldering, under control for now but building fiercer by the minute. This woman had been mutilated and killed, murdered in what Batman was willing to bet his fortune's on was a strange city, in a dingy little hostel room. Dozens of tourists slept mere yards away in the next dorm, and yet she hadn't even been able to call for help. Her body then lay there for at least eight hours, waiting for staff to break in, demanding more money or meaning to see her tossed into the street, all just to send a message. Because that was what this was, a message, but for whom and what it said he just wasn't sure yet.

[i][color=black]But I [b]will[/b] find out. That I promise. And when I do someone is going to pay![/color][/i]