Rain streamed down from the eaves of the Old Gotham Psychiatric Research Center.
The building had once been a hospital, then a research center, then a charity project, and then the city had put it on a renovation plan. It had stayed on that plan for over seven years, while the paint kept peeling and the window frames kept rusting.
Gotham was very good at this sort of thing.
Give something rotten a new sign, then pretend the city was recovering.
Tonight, broadcast vans filled the space downstairs.
Reporters held umbrellas, cameras wore rain covers, and police cars blocked two streets. The searchlights at the entrance glared, turning the rain into white streaks.
Batman lay beside a gargoyle on the opposite rooftop.
Alfred's voice came through his earpiece.
"Master Bruce, the third television station has picked up the feed as well."
Batman watched the lit windows on the research center's third floor.
"I see it."
"Someone on the police channel is suggesting they seal off the scene."
"They're too slow."
"Hugo Strange has prepared five live feeds, three backup power supplies, and two broadcast vans circling the outer perimeter." Alfred paused. "The doctor's enthusiasm for the stage is unsettling."
Batman said nothing.
The same familiar cold shoulder.
In the hall downstairs, Hugo Strange stood behind a lectern.
Bald head, glasses, dark suit.
His face appeared on every screen, looking gentle, clearheaded, and dependable.
That was the sort of face Gotham's people should have been most wary of.
When a madman charged at them with a knife, Gotham's people at least knew to run.
When a madman in a suit took the stage with a report, Gotham's people applauded instead.
Hugo opened the folder beside him.
"Tonight, I will not discuss whether Batman is breaking the law."
The hall grew a