“Say a Little Prayer”
• Part 1
Friday, March 15, 1968In front of me is a bible, aged and tattered, lost to time itself. A once prized possession for the more devout members of my family. A possession that I haven’t touched for nearly twenty-four years.
But I’m not feeling sentimental, this isn’t something I dragged out of a forgotten drawer for anything beyond practical rationale. Gotham’s newest addition to its serial murderer registry is one with a penchant for religious fervor and I know that any clues I need to decipher will be in the pages of a scripture I once was proud to have memorized.
Sprawled in front of me are newspaper clippings, police documentation, and photographs; anything that could be even remotely related to the case would be included in my case file. The sooner any piece of information could give me an answer would bring peace to the people of Gotham and the families of the four victims that had already been taken from this world could finally rest knowing justice had been served. Justice that was deserved. Justice that was needed.
“Perhaps the answers will appear more clear on a full stomach, Bruce.”
The voice of my friend, Alfred Pennyworth, snaps me out of my thoughts and brings my attention to the older man behind me. I don’t need to tell him that I don’t approve of the sentiment of resting while innocent lives are on the line; while they rely on my efforts to stop this psychopath. My brows narrow as I move to respond to the comment.
“I can eat when my work is done.”
“I suppose if the esteemed master thinks starving will benefit him from stopping a deranged serial killer who must also sleep and eat, then I cannot protest the matter.”
I sigh in irritation. Alfred may be glib, but he has a point—and that point is one I’ve heard countless times in the past few years when I get too… involved with my work. I can still recall nearly exhausting myself to a idiotic point during my investigation into Julian Gregory Day, the Calender Man, just two years ago. It makes me consider the idea that I need to pace myself even if I focus intensely on an individual case. I should also remind myself that the Batcave solely had the most up-to-date crime-fighting database in all of Gotham. The only thing the GCPD has on me in spades is manpower and compared to a state of the art computer, archives, and lab that was going to get me much further even if I took a longer rest.
“Fine. Make me something light.”
“Of course.”