Leonora found a redheaded woman in hers. “Are you lost?” the diva asked, sparing the intruder barely a glance.

“Not if you’re Leonora Sotto Voce,” the intruder said.

“I am,” the diva said. Leonora paused on her way to the dressing room table to regard her visitor. “Who, pray tell, are you?”

“I’m a big fan and a musician, too,” the redhead announced, indicating a set of bagpipes.

“Well, listen, dear, I am a star. I do not give auditions. I perform for the audience. If you’re looking for a job, you’ll have to come back when auditions are scheduled. I’d watch the papers, if I were you.” Having graciously given her good advice to the aspiring performer, Leonora sat before her mirror and began the transformation from her character to her normal self.

“Oh, I don’t want a job, Ms. Sotto Voce. I’ve come for your diamond pendant.”

“You’ve what?!” The bagpiper had her attention now.

“I said I’ve come for your diamond pendant.”

The diva laughed and moved her hands to her throat, where her pendant glittered. “This pendant belongs to me. I got it from my mother years ago when I was her understudy. The idea I would just let you take if from me is utterly ridiculous– Hey! Pay attention to me when I am talking to you! What are you doing?”

The diva’s visitor was bending to sound a note on her bagpipes. In addition to being an instrument, the bagpipes were a sonic weapon the redhead could wield at close range with stunning effectiveness. The diva withstood the sonic assault for barely a minute before she collapsed, and the malevolent musician bent over her to retrieve the pendant. The redheaded robber left her victim seconds later.

“How are we doing?” asked a brunette watching the hall as the redhead emerged from Leonora’s dressing room.

“We’re right on schedule. Do you have any idea how things are going with Fortissimo?”

“I haven’t heard a thing, but it’s almost time for my entrance.”

“Good. I’ll see you soon.”

Meanwhile, in Fortissimo’s dressing room, the headliner found a beautiful blonde waiting for him. “Good evening. What can I do for you?” he asked.

“You can give me the $20,000 you carry onstage at every performance,” his visitor suggested.

Fortissimo laughed. “I would guess you’re worth it, ma’am,” he said running an appreciative eye over his visitor. “I stopped carrying the money after this show was held up by desperados five years ago on opening night.”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“It is true!” he insisted. “I carried the money for luck. When I was robbed, I decided my luck had changed.”

“Well, obviously your luck has changed again, so you must have the money I’m looking for,” the blonde said ingeniously. Then, she regarded him with a conspiratorial smile. “I’m sure I could persuade you to part with it. Would you like that?”

Fortissimo smiled. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to imagine that pleasant proposition for a moment. Then, he faced her. “You are pretty, my dear. You are, however, not that pretty.”

“You’re fickle and have a very high opinion of yourself,” the girl observed. “I’d need more then just $20,000 for the kind of entertainment your groupies provided when you were getting started in the business.”

“I’m an opera performer, not a rock star!” Fortissimo protested. As he spoke, the girl dipped her hand into her purse. He took a deep breath and transformed his manner to one of resignation. “You’re going to hold me up? How common!”

“Fortissimo, don’t be ridiculous. Do I look like an ordinary stickup artist to you?” Before he could respond, an extended, high-pitched note sounded. Fortissimo held his hands against his ears and thrashed his head from side to side. His feeble efforts to defend himself against the sound were, of course, useless. He could feel his will ebbing away as the noise went on.

“What was that?” the opera star asked as silence returned.

“A note that will compel you to do as I say. Now, hand over the money!”

Fortissimo extracted several bundles of money from his various vest and pants pockets and presented them to the blonde robber. “With my compliments, my dear.”

“Thank you,” the girl said. She glanced at the clock and stepped toward him with a smile. “Fortissimo, maybe I should thank you properly.” Her arms slid around his neck and she drew her mouth to his. Their lips brushed and locked together. When the kiss ended, Fortissimo found he was massaging her chest slowly, but with enthusiasm.

A knock sounded at the door. Fortissimo began to rise, but the girl held his body in place against her.

“Come in,” she called cheerfully. As she spoke she nudged Fortissimo toward a chair. He felt his knees buckle as they came into contact with it and he found the girl sitting on his lap as the dressing room door opened. Too late he realized his hands were still slowly stroking her body.

A flash of purple light heralded the brunette lookout’s arrival. A second flash exploded as the singer released his companion.

“You see, Fortissimo,” the blonde said. “The musical note you heard compels you to obey nonverbal commands as well as spoken ones. Thanks for the memories.” The brunette handed the first photo to the blonde, the second to Fortissimo.

“This is outrageous,” Fortissimo said, indicating the evidence of his brief encounter with the blonde.

“Think of it as something to remember me by. I will send this one to your wife, unless you wait a couple of days before reporting the cost of our little kiss to the cops. That’s not too much to ask for continued marital bliss, is it?”

“You leave me no choice.”

“None,” she agreed and grinned at him wolfishly. The two girls laughed and gathered Fortissimo’s money.

“Oh, there is one more thing, Fortissimo,” the brunette said. “Leonora was attacked. She needs you. You must go to her at once.”

“Yes,” Fortissimo agreed. “I must.” He raced to the rescue.

Once their victim had gone, the beautiful blackmailers joined the redhead waiting in the car behind the wheel. “How did it go?” the driver asked.

“Like a song,” the blonde replied.

“A love song,” the brunette said with a laugh of her own as she indicated the camera.

“Freelancing?”

“A little,” the camerawoman answered with a delighted smirk. Then she explained, “We thought we’d turn up the heat on Fortissimo so that he would spare us attention for a couple of days.”

“When we need money in the future, we’ll hit up Fortissimo,” the blonde explained. “We’ve given him no choice but to pay.”

“In that case,” the driver said dreamily. “We’ll all be even richer than we’d planned. Good thinking.” All three of them laughed.

Two days later, Fortissimo and Leonora reported the crime. Their celebrity status gained them a meeting with Commissioner James Gordon.

“Since our show began, we have been robbed twice. First by Shame on opening night and now by these felonious females,” Fortissimo complained.

“Batman, Robin, and Batgirl brought the original desperados to justice. This time, we cannot even tell you who the crooks were,” Leonora agreed.

“I’ll have one of my officers take you down to look at some mug shots,” Chief O’Hara suggested. “Maybe you can point out the perpetrators and give us a chance to go after them.”

Fortissimo sighed. “Very well, if we must.”

Leonora took a hold of him and yanked him to his feet. “Fortissimo,” she said, “if we want those women to be captured, we have to cooperate with the police. Come on!”

Once they had gone, Chief O’Hara frowned and said. “These artists are reporting a crime two days after the fact. The trail will have grown cold by now.”

“Even so, this theft at the opera is the latest in a series of musically oriented crimes committed recently in Gotham City,” Commissioner Gordon observed.

“We’d better report it to our friend behind the mask.”

“Right you are, Chief. We may be able to lend a hand to his glove. Goodness knows the number of times he’s helped us.” Commissioner Gordon crossed the office and uncovered the Batphone.

Approximately fourteen miles outside of Gotham City, the hotline rang in Bruce Wayne’s study at stately Wayne Manor. Faithful butler Alfred lifted the receiver. “I’ll summon him, sir.”

He found his master looking at a newspaper over Dick Grayson’s shoulder. Wayne was reading the line-up of bands to be featured at a free concert that evening in Chimes Square.

“This looks like fun, Bruce.”

“Yes, Dick. I think it’s wonderful the organizers of this event are giving the public the chance to enjoy some modern music.”

Dick’s Aunt Harriet was examining a computer printout of the list her nephew had made for her from the event’s Internet site. “Is this something your friend Susie might be interested in?” she asked.

“Excuse me, sir,” Alfred interrupted. “You have a phone call in the study.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” Bruce said. He excused himself and adjourned to the study.

“Susie might enjoy it, Aunt Harriet. Why don’t I show you how to listen to some of the music yourself?” Dick suggested. He stood and waited for his aunt to sit at the computer. Soon, she was enjoying a wide selection of promotional material and Dick was able to make his way to his former guardian’s study.

“Thank you, Commissioner. We’re on our way.”

“What’s up, Bruce?”

“The police may be about to give us a lead on a case. To the Batpoles!”

Dick pulled back the head on Shakespeare’s bust and manipulated the switch to retract the bookcase behind them.

Phantom Trails

Later, in Commissioner Gordon’s office, the crimefighters contemplated the clues the opera singers’ examination of the police mug shot file had yielded.

“They couldn’t agree on who the crooks were,” Chief O’Hara complained.

“Leonora Sotto Voce claimed a red-headed musician attacked her,” Commissioner Gordon reported. “She said she could not be certain of the woman’s identity.”

“Fortissimo Fra Diavolo claimed he was robbed by a blonde,” Chief O’Hara added. “He gave me this when Leonora wasn’t looking.” He displayed the picture of he and the blonde in each other’s arms. “She looks like Undine, the Joker’s favorite henchgirl, to me.”

“Aren’t the Joker and his gang, including Undine, still in jail?” Robin asked with concern.

“They are,” Commissioner Gordon confirmed. “Joker in particular will be there for a long time, having recently been denied parole.”

“It appears, along with our mysterious blonde, a titian haired villainess has come to wreak havoc on Gotham City,” Robin observed. “Say, could that be Pussycat, now that she’s older?!”

“I didn’t know Pussycat and Undine were even acquainted,” Chief O’Hara said. “Do you suppose they could have met in prison, Batman?”

“Unlikely, since Pussycat was tried as a juvenile. I’m uncertain, however, that either Undine or Pussycat are involved. Pussycat is musically inclined, but I am not certain we are dealing with her. Why don’t you double check Undine’s whereabouts, Commissioner?”

As the Commissioner picked up his phone and spoke to his secretary, Bonnie, Batman turned to the Chief of Police. “Now, what did you say alerted Fortissimo to Leonora’s peril?”

“Apparently, a brunette poked her head into his dressing room and told him,” O’Hara said, thumbing through a report. “Hey! If she thought Leonora was in trouble, why tell Fortissimo and not call the police?”

“A very good question, Chief. I suspect this brunette was more than a concerned citizen.”

“Holy Triple Threat! She could easily have been an accomplice!” Robin said, slamming his fist into his gloved palm. “I’ll bet she took this picture.”

“It’s not Undine,” Commissioner Gordon said. “She will continue to be Warden Crichton’s guest for a long time yet.”

“Just as I suspected,” Batman said.

“Who could it be if it isn’t Undine,” Chief O’Hara asked helplessly as he gestured at the picture. “This woman looks just like her.”

“The redhead was a musician, you said?” Batman asked. Chief O’Hara nodded. “Do your notes tell us what instrument she played?”

Chief O’Hara flipped through his notes and put them down resignedly. His gaze returned to Batman and his face paled. “Mother MacCrea! She played the bagpipes.”

“Doesn’t Undine have a twin sister who worked with a bagpiper?” Commissioner Gordon asked.

“Holy Memory Lapse! We have a blonde who looks like Undine, a brunette, and a bagpiper with red hair. Batman! Do you think it could be–”

“I’m afraid so, Robin.”

“Holy Apparition!”

“At what are you getting, Caped Crusader?”

“I think our robbers might be: Doe, Rae, and Mimi.”

“Great Scott!” the Commissioner said. “They were the phantom ladies the Great Chandell employed in his crime wave years ago.”

“One, or in this particular case, three and the same, Commissioner.” Batman said. “I found these phantasmal females to be quite corporeal at our second meeting.”

“Right. At that time, they were working for Madame DeBase,” Robin said, shuddering as he recalled his own experiences in the supervillainess’ cruel clutches. “Just recently, the phantoms reappeared, working with the Siren and trying to kill us.”

“I remember that case. You were looking into a robbery at Zubin Zuccini’s,” Chief O’Hara prompted.

“Indeed. A message delivered at the scene led us to the Nightingale Club, where the Siren was waiting for us,” Batman said. “Even though we escaped Siren’s trap, the stolen goods were never recovered.”

“So, the Siren is behind this robbery,” Chief O’Hara said. “I’ll issue an all points bulletin.”

“Just a moment, Chief O’Hara. We have no evidence the Siren had anything to do with this crime. At the time of our last encounter, it is possible that some other villain had lent Doe, Rae and Mimi into the Siren’s service. Until we either capture them or catch them in the act, it may be impossible to tell if they are working for somebody else.

“We have many musical adversaries, gentlemen,” Batman reminded them. “Until one is conclusively identified, we shouldn’t rule out any of them.”

“We originally thought the Minstrel was behind the robbery we’ve been discussing,” Robin related. “It’s possible these three women robbed the opera on their own. Remember Legs Parker’s attempted rise to supervillainhood.”

“Sure and I do, Boy Wonder. Begorra! They might not be working for anyone!”

. “When the phantoms first arrived on the Gotham City crime scene, they pretended to be pipers and robbed stately Wayne Manor,” Robin recalled. “Holy Illusion! They were working for Chandell at the time, yet he seemed to be one of their victims.”

“It’s possible the criminal ranks are growing yet again,” Commissioner Gordon lamented. “It’s a truly dark day in Gotham City. How will you proceed?”

“Cautiously. We’ll have to anticipate their next crime. Right now, we are certain of nothing.”

“You think the crooks, whoever they are, have something big in mind?” Chief O’Hara asked.

“Perhaps. What upcoming musical events will require a large police presence?”

“Most of my men are stationed at a concert in Chimes Square that started just a few minutes ago!” Chief O’Hara said.

“Holy Woodstock! That could be it!” Robin said.

“We’ll never find out standing here,” Batman said. “To the Batmobile!”

Barbara Gordon; Thelma Jones, the former Princess Primrose; and her husband Dylan “Dogwood” Roberts had met to attend the concert in Chimes Square.

“Wow! Am I tuned into this!”

“Dylan!”

“I’m sorry, Thelma. I know we’ve come a long way since attending all those flower-ins, but this setting . . . the music . . . and the crowd. I kind of flashback to being Dogwood, when you were my Princess Primrose, you know.”

Thelma smiled at him. “It’s nostalgic for me, too, Dylan. We shouldn’t forget our guest, though.”

“Oh, don’t mind me,” Barbara said. “I couldn’t be happier for you both. Imagine – my old friend Thelma Jones meeting Dylan Roberts, attending several flower-ins together, and getting married. Do you know what I think?”

“What?” the Roberts family asked.

“I think you two demonstrate real flower power.”

“Thank you, Barbara. That’s the nicest thing anyone ever said about us,” Thelma said.

“Wow–” Dylan began, but stopped as the next band began to play on stage. Following their set, applause erupted from the audience and a duo in Scottish garb approached the stage.

“Hey! They aren’t the next act,” Dylan said. “I don’t even see any Scottish theme acts on the schedule.”

“Maybe they were a late addition,” Barbara said soothingly. Her mind was racing as she watched the blonde and brunette take the stage. Batgirl had seen these ‘performers’ before and Barbara was beginning to think it was time for the heroine to make an appearance.

“Relax,” Thelma said. “I love Celtic music, and there’s a break scheduled now, anyway.”

“Why don’t I get us some lemonade or iced tea or something,” Barbara suggested.

“Thank you, Barbara,” Dylan said. “You’re supposed to be our guest, though. Listen. The lines are awfully long, and you’ll miss this act. I think they’ll be getting started soon.”

“I don’t mind,” Barbara said. “With luck, I’ll be back before the next one. See you soon.” Before they could argue further, she was waving and retreating toward the concession stands.

Dylan “Dogwood” Roberts felt a restraining arm wind around his waist that draw him gently back. “Let her go, Dogwood. This was always more our scene, anyway,” Thelma said.

“Your wish is my command, Princess.”

Once out of sight of her friends, Barbara entered the front door of a handy restaurant and stepped unobserved into the ladies room. She felt bad upon reading the sign that said, “Restrooms for Customer Use Only!” but rationalized that this was an emergency. ‘Besides,’ she thought, I doubt this is the kind of use they had in mind!’

Moments later, she had undergone her tantalizing transformation and Batgirl emerged to slip, as unobtrusively as possible, through a side door into an alley. She began to make her way to the performers’ trailers when a roar distracted her. The Batmobile passed the end of the alley and screeched to a halt.

“I thought I recognized those performers,” Batgirl said to herself as she looked at the trailers. “If Batman and Robin are here, there’ll probably be trouble.” Just then she spotted the telltale sign, which confirmed her suspicions and validated he fears. A piece of cloth was stuck in the door of one of the trailers! The door was locked, but Batgirl’s tiny metal tool brought her beyond the barrier in seconds. Inside, she bent over nine bound performers sprawled on the floor.

“Thank you, Batgirl! How did you find us?” one musician asked once Batgirl had freed him.

“I noticed a silk scarf caught in the door, probably when your attackers left. What happened?”

“We were just getting ready to go backstage before our performance, when a high pitched tone somehow entranced all the men in our group,” one of the female backup singers explained, as she massaged her wrists.

“That’s right,” a male musician confirmed, as he released one of his colleagues. “We were under some sort of spell. Whoever cast it made us tie up all the girls back here. Afterward, a supersonic blast knocked us all out. When we revived, we were in here with the girls.”

“Whoever attacked us took everything!” the lead performer said, pacing to restore circulation. “You’ve got to catch them, Batgirl!”

“I will,” she promised. “I think I know where they went, and I’m afraid I can guess their plans. Fortunately, Batman and Robin are also here.”

The Dynamic Duo climbed from the Batmobile and began to move toward the unscheduled performers on the stage. “We were right, Batman! I’ll bet Rae and Mimi are up to no good.”

“Almost certainly, Robin. I wonder if Doe is here somewhere?”

“She’s hard to miss, but there are so many people.” Robin nudged a young woman as he and Batman moved forward. “Sorry,” he said.

“Oh, Robin!” she said, accompanying her words with an excited squeal. “Can I have your autograph?”

"Forget his autograph!” a second girl admonished. “Would you kiss me, Robin? I’ll kiss you back.”

“That’s very generous,” Robin said, taking a deep breath. “Batman and I are trying to prevent a crime right now. If you’ll excuse us . . .” He glanced at Batman helplessly.

“Pardon me, citizens,” the Caped Crusader was saying. “Please let us pass. Your safety may depend upon it!”

Very slowly, the Dynamic Duo made their way through the crowd.

Meanwhile, the unscheduled performance concluded as the perfidious pair onstage bowed from either side of the microphone and smiled at the audience.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the brunette baddie said. “We are pleased we were able to become part of the program. We hope you’ve enjoyed our small contribution to the show.”

The blonde leaned forward and spoke. “In just a moment, you will all have the opportunity to express your appreciation by generously donating your hard-earned money and valuables to our favorite charity, namely . . . us!”

“In fact,” Rae went on . . .

“You’ll be compelled to do so in just a moment,” Mimi concluded. The ravishing rogues bowed.

As the audience stared in stunned disbelief, the two performers laughed. “Hey,” someone shouted. “You can’t just march in here and rob us.”

“Yeah!” another audience member agreed. “Let’s get them!”

“Hold it!” a new female voice said over the music playing on the public address system. “You’re wrong!”

“We won’t rob you,” the brunette explained.

“You will!” the blonde concurred.

Together the perfidious performers said, “Hit it!” A high-pitched tone sounded for several minutes.

Seconds before the sonic assault, the Dynamic Duo protected themselves with Bat-Earplugs.

“All you men and boys out there, please retrieve all the valuables from the female in the audience you know best,” the brunette invited.

“And if your lady friend resists,” the blonde instructed, “hit her.”

“Wait a minute,” a woman in the audience said.

“Are we going to take this?” another woman demanded.

These citizens’outrage was quelled when the men who had came with them to the event clobbered them.

“Drop her stuff and yours off in the bags on the stage,” the unseen woman said over the public address system. As the speaker issued her instructions, Rae and Mimi arranged bags for the loot and indicated them with bright smiles.

As the audience began to comply with the criminals’ instructions, Batman and Robin reached the edge of the crowd closest to the stage.

“Batman and Robin are approaching the stage, ladies and gentlemen,” the public address woman said. “Please hurry. Security, grab the Dynamic Duo.” Half a dozen uniformed guards barred Batman and Robin’s progress and surrounded them. The heroes took up defensive positions with their backs to one another. “I’d advise you to let yourselves be taken, Batman. There is no telling who might get hurt unnecessarily if you try to fight your way out of this.”

“She’s right, Robin. Let them hold us here.” The guards took a firm grasp of their arms. Neither resisted.

“Holy Hostages! They’ve got us.”

“Only for the moment, chum. We’ll turn the tables on them . . . eventually.”

For the next few minutes, the valuables accumulated in the bags on the stage. Once the last audience member made their contribution, the brunette returned from the bag she was securing and spoke into the microphone again. “Thank you, Gotham City!”

The blonde joined her and said, “Now, everyone lie down on the ground and count to one thousand before moving again.”

“We now return you to your regularly scheduled program,” the woman who had commandeered the public address system said. “Oh, I’ll be looting the concession stands on my way to the car. Please have the money ready. Thank you.” She switched off the microphone and turned toward the door. Then, she froze.

A purple figure stood framed in the door with its legs spread to shoulder width and hands resting on shapely hips. “Doe, I presume?” the voluptuous vision said.

“Batgirl!” Doe said, her breath hissing between her teeth as she exhaled. “We meet again.”

“That’s right! I don’t think you’re going anywhere this time, or looting anything, either.”

“Oh, yeah?” Doe replied. “I think you’re wrong!” She swung her bagpipes toward the heroine at shoulder level and smiled wickedly as her opponent stepped aside, avoiding them. Then the redheaded rogue leaned forward and blew a note on the instrument. A sonic blast issued from Doe’s disguised weapon and knocked Gotham’s Dark Angel to the ground outside the public address booth. Doe crouched beside her victim for a moment. “Get in our way again, Batgirl, and my stunning notes will be the least of your worries. Oh, and that goes double for the Dynamic Duo!“ She straightened and treated Batgirl to a more extensive blast from her bagpipes, before moving off in the direction of the concession stands.

Batgirl could only moan helplessly.

Batman and Robin found her half an hour later. “Easy, Batgirl, “ Batman said softly.

“What did Doe do to me?”

“Doe’s sonic bagpipes pack quite a wallop,” the Caped Crusader said.

“You’re telling me,” she said, sitting up.

Robin supported her and asked, “Can you stand?”

“I‘ll be able to in a minute,” she replied. “Doe might have hit a technician with a blast like that when she took over the sound system.” Robin disappeared to check while Batman helped Batgirl to her feet.

“Do you have any idea what Doe did to the crowd while her partners, Rae and Mimi, robbed them?” Batman asked.

“Not specifically, Batman. Do you have any theories?”

“I’d call them thoughts just now, Batgirl. With evidence– ”

“That was good thinking, Batgirl,” Robin said when he emerged from the sound system booth. “The technician seems fine, but I asked the medics to look her over. She told me the crooks left this CD behind when they left.”

“May I see that, Robin?”

“Sure, Batgirl.” She took the compact disc and read the label. She turned it over in her hands a few times before handing it to Batman. “It might tell us something.”

“Right, Batgirl,” Batman said. “Robin and I will race to the Batcave to subject it to complete scientific analysis. We’ll contact Commissioner Gordon with any findings.”

“You’ll be okay, won’t you?”

“Yes, Robin. Thank you for asking. I’ll keep the Commissioner informed of my progress as well.”

“Good. Let’s go, chum, to the Batmobile!”

Batgirl slipped away to reverse her tantalizing transformation and rejoin her friends.

Much later, Robin slammed his gloved fist into his palm. “Gosh, Batman, we’ve examined that disk with a fine toothed comb! It has no hidden tracks, fingerprints, reverse masked messages, chemical anomalies, or foreign particles on it. What’s left?”

“It’s too early to give up, Robin. Separate artists perform each song on this CD. I’ll program that information into the Batcomputer and see if we can find a criminal correlation.”

The amazing machine announced the answer with a ding minutes later. “Holy Repeat Performance!” Robin exclaimed.

“We’ll report to Commissioner Gordon on the way,” Batman decided. “There may not be a moment to lose!”

Meanwhile, in Barbara Gordon’s apartment, the lovely librarian was carrying out her own investigation on the Internet. “I think the CD the crooks left in Chimes Square was produced here in Gotham City, Charlie,” she said to her parrot. “Let’s just see what I can learn about it.”

Moments later, the search provided several revelations. “I was right! The company was local. It’s out of business now, but its clients included Pussycat, Little Louie Groovy, and Lorelei Circe.”

The bird chirped excitedly.

“I don’t know about you, Charlie, but I think Batman and Robin may need to know about this. Lorelei Circe is a retired chanteuse in the eyes of the world, but to the Gotham City underworld, she’s better known as the Siren. Since crime distracted her from her legitimate career, she’s focused her energies in that direction.” Just then, she felt a vibration against her hip as her PDA told her Batgirl had received an email. “Of course, they may already know . . . .”

Shortly thereafter, the Dynamic Duo Batclimbed the side of the defunct recording studio. They looked through a skylight, preparing to enter the building, and froze. Below them, a single, flickering candle illuminated Doe, Rae, and Mimi.

“You were right, Batman!” Robin whispered excitedly. “It’s them again.”

“Perhaps,” Batman cautioned. “Watch.”

The criminal trio sat cross-legged in a circle holding hands and muttering. The hidden heroes were too far away to discern what was being said.

“Holy Halloween! What are they doing?”

“”I don’t know, Robin. When we first encountered them at the Parnassus Music Role Company, they seemed entranced.”

“I remember, Batman. That scene was staged to lure us into a trap. Do you mean what I think you mean?”

“Well, chum, that depends upon what you think I mean. I do believe, however, we cannot be too careful from this point forward.”

“If it is a trap, we’re supposed to go in through the skylight,” Robin surmised.

“Let’s disappoint them.”

They spotted an open window and slipped through silently. As they approached, Batman and Robin could hear the criminal trio muttering. They positioned themselves on either side of a door and peered at the strange scene inside the room.

“Do you know what they’re saying?” Robin asked.

“No,” Batman answered. “Let’s find out.”

Robin stepped forward and began to enter the room. Suddenly, Batman’s restraining hand fell upon his shoulder “What?” the Boy Wonder asked.

“Wait,” the Caped Crusader said. “We’d better put on our Bat-Earplugs. The last time we encountered this terrible trio, they were working for the Siren. If she is behind the girls’ crimes, Bat-Earplugs may be our only defense against the Siren’s hypnotic sonic attack.”

“Holy Boy Scout Motto, Batman,“ the younger hero said, retrieving his Bat-Earplugs. “Falling under the Siren’s spell could be fatal.” Robin recalled how the voluptuous vocalist had tried to order Bruce Wayne to step from the roof of the Wayne Foundation Building, which housed the millionaire’s private office. He and Batman slipped on their Bat-Earplugs.

Robin waited for Batman to signal before they burst into the room together. Doe, Rae, and Mimi continued to sit around their candle, muttering. As the newcomers drew closer to the trio, Doe leaned toward the candle and spoke one word clearly.

“Now!” she said. In the same second, the redhead pursed her lips and blew out the candle.

“It is a trap!” Robin exclaimed.

At one time, Batman and Robin, renowned gentlemen crimefighters, were famously helpless against women opponents. Then Madame DeBase told them, “I want the added kick of seeing you helpless against your own strict moral code.” This incident, along with their partnership with Batgirl, Batwoman and Flamebird, had conclusively demonstrated the foolishness of simply surrendering to physical females.

In response, the Dynamic Duo had adopted the strategy of turning their woman attackers’ strength and momentum against them. Subsequently, they had incorporated indirect attacks like pulling rugs from beneath female thugs into their arsenal. Thus far, the results of their approach had been satisfactory.

Robin felt someone collide with him. He stepped back and prepared himself for battle, but was surprised to feel the woman press her body against him, forcing him back. The Boy Wonder reached a wall, braced his feet, and used his arms to keep his face and body covered. When he felt the Bat-Earplugs pulled from his ears, he realized he had been the victim of another deception.

Somewhere nearby, a scuffling revealed Batman was also under attack. “My Bat-Earplugs!” the crimefighter exclaimed. He had hoped to reveal the criminal’s tactics to Robin, unaware it was already too late.

“We’re all set,” a female voice said.

Instantly, a high-pitched, sustained note pierced the darkness, assailing the Dynamic Duo’s ears. As the note continued, their free will eroded inexorably, until it utterly vanished.

When silence replaced the acoustic attack the heroes had endured, soft light revealed a petite, curvaceous woman with long dark-brown hair wound into an extravagant bun standing before them. Her body was sheathed in a silver dress that covered her right shoulder and fell to mid thigh. Silver boots accented her shapely legs. She passed a hand before each hero’s face and laughed melodiously as neither of her handsome, caped victims reacted.

“Taking the Bat-Earplugs worked,” Rae said.

“Yes,” the villainess agreed, giggling delightedly. “I, the Siren, have once again placed both Batman and Robin in my power.”

“Getting rid of them should be a snap,” Doe suggested.

“Doe,” the Siren said, “please don’t be a party pooper. I want a few moments to relish this enormous achievement.”

“Boss,” Mimi said, “I don’t want to burst your bubble, but crooks knock these two out all the time. Usually, the next step is to arrange to get rid of them somehow. Unfortunately, none of those measures have ever quite done the job.”

“We’ll dispose of them soon enough, Mimi. First, though, I want you all to understand what it means for them to be not just at our mercy, but in my power.”

“You’ll explain that remark, of course,” Rae said.

“I’ll to better than that!” the criminal crooner crowed. She turned to the Caped Crusader and asked, “Batman, whom do you serve?”

“I serve you, Siren,” the Dark Knight said in a monotone.

“That’s very nice, Batman. Robin, what will you do for me?”

“Whatever you wish, Siren.”

“Really? You’ll do anything for me?”

Robin turned to face her and addressed her in a monotone of his own. “There is nothing I will not do for you, Siren.”

Doe, Rae, and Mimi inhaled.

“Batman is very handsome,” Doe said. “The girls and I once had him at our mercy. Batgirl interrupted long before we’d finished with him, so if you’re soliciting suggestions . . . . Of course, if you want him for yourself, boss, there’s always Robin.”

“I’m sure we could take good care of him, before we take care of him once and for all,” Mimi said.

“Would you like that, Robin?” Rae asked hopefully. He did not respond.

“When I deliver my stunning note personally, only I can control its victims,” Siren explained. “Of course, I can always tell the victim to obey someone else.” Suddenly, she brightened as though she’d had an idea. “Still . . . Robin, kiss Rae.”

The kiss lasted for a long moment. Robin was about to crush the henchwoman against him a second time when Siren intervened. “Stop!” she ordered. Robin released Rae.

“That was very nice,” Rae said, smiling. “Thanks, boss.”

“Gosh, yes,” Robin agreed, eyeing Rae appreciatively.

“Robin, kiss Mimi. Batman, kiss Doe.” The Dynamic Duo did as they were told while the Siren continued her lecture. “Sadly, my spell won‘t last long enough for us to take full advantage of them.”

“Too bad,” Rae said. “You are going to do something with them before they die, though, aren’t you, boss?”

“Yes, Rae. Batman, the Dark Knight Detective, is going to solve the biggest mystery in Gotham City for us. Boys, that’s enough.” Siren’s male minions released their companions.

“Thank you, boss,” the quartet said simultaneously.

Siren giggled. Then, she ordered, “Now, Batman, tell me who you really are.”

The henchwoman inhaled. Robin stood mute. The Siren leaned forward expectantly.

“I am really . . . Batman.”

“Why won’t he talk?” Mimi asked.

“I’ve just moved from something he would naturally want to do, to something he has sworn never to do,” Siren explained. “I’ll have to wear him down a little.”

“Batman, who are you when you are not Batman?”

Batman started at her for a moment, confused.

“I . . .” he began. Then he shook his head. “I really am Batman.”

“Yes, Batman,” the Siren patiently said, as her voice took on a more seductive quality. “You don’t spend all of your time fighting crime, though. In your downtime, who are you?”

“I–” Batman began. He hesitated and repeated, “I-I have sworn never to reveal my secret identity. To do so would impair my effectiveness as a crimefighter.”

“You aren’t going to be a crimefighter for much longer, Batman,” Doe said.

“Give the boss time,” Rae advised. “She has to break down a lifetime of conditioning before he will talk. He’s already starting to ramble.”

“If we’re really in a hurry for the information,” Mimi pointed out, “we could always ask Robin. His conditioning probably won’t be as strong.”

“Or we could just yank off their masks,” Doe suggested. “We might recognize–”

“No!” Siren said. “I want to break Batman! Now, Batman, you know you must reveal this information to me. I want to know your secret identity. You will tell me. You have no choice.”

"Fight her, Batman!" Robin unexpectedly cried out. “Don’t tell her anything!”

Siren spun to face him. “Silence, Robin! I see it is important to keep strong captive minds occupied, to keep the subject’s own free will from overriding my dominion. Interesting. Robin, from now on, you will only speak when spoken to! Is that clear?”

“Yes, Siren,” the young hero said, nodding.

“Excellent, Boy Blunder,” the Siren said. She giggled happily before beginning to reestablish the spell she had woven earlier, focusing the full force of her femininity on the senior crime fighter. “Now, Batman. You know I want to know the name of your everyday alter ego and you know you really want to tell me. So, I’m going to ask you only one more time!“ The seductive quality of Siren’s voice was ebbing as a hard edge began to manifest itself. “Tell me right now, Batman! Who are you, really?”

“I, “ Batman said slowly. “Batman is–” He hesitated.

“Yes?”

“Batman is really–”

“Who, darling? Tell me!”

Just then, a loud alarm sounded and lights began to flash on a panel across the room.

“Batman is really Bruce Wayne,” Batman said quietly.

“Blast!” Siren fumed. “I didn’t hear what he said. He might have just spit out the answer!”

“All I heard was the alarm,” Mimi said. She and the other henchwomen looked at one another and shrugged.

Robin had moved to a window and was peering at the street below.

“Robin, what do you see?” Siren asked.

“Batgirl is coming,” he announced.

“Her!” Siren said.

“Good,” Doe said delightedly, as a wicked grin lit up her face.

“I’ve been looking forward to facing her again,” Rae said, rubbing her hands together eagerly.

“We’ll teach her to spoil all our fun! Won’t we, girls?” Mimi said.

In the eyes of this quartet of comely criminals, Batgirl had much for which to answer. She had saved the Dynamic Duo from a trap Siren had set, for which they themselves had devised some details. The villainess’ musical minions were feeling vengeful toward the gorgeous good girl because she had rescued Batman from their malevolent ministrations. The Caped Crusader had been delivered into their hateful hands by the delectable, yet demented, Madame DeBase. The villainess had planned to film a scene of debauchery, which would have destroyed the Caped Crusader’s credibility. Until Batgirl had arrived, Doe, Rae, Mimi, and a bevy of beautiful bimbos had been having their way with the captives. The Bat Beauty had then bestowed a beating on the heroes’ attackers, which the trio had escaped, but they had never forgiven her for spoiling their fiendish fun.

“Shall we get them out of sight and reset the trap?” Doe asked, indicating Batman and Robin and reaching for her bagpipes.

“No, my nefarious nymphs!” Siren said. “I have a much better idea.” She spoke very quickly for almost a minute.

Batgirl parked beside the Batmobile and began to Batclimb the building. Looking through the skylight, as Batman and Robin had, she saw Doe, Rae, and Mimi standing over the prone bodies of Batman and Robin. Stepping back to burst through the skylight, she spotted the open window and decided to employ stealth.

Soon, she had followed the Dynamic Duo’s footsteps. Gotham’s Purple Protector peered through the door as the original invaders had.

For Batgirl, the laughter of the phantasmal fiends was quite audible. She decided to put an immediate stop to it. “All right, ladies! Whatever you planned to do to Batman and Robin, you can forget it. It’s over!” she said, boldly entering the room.

“On the contrary, Batgirl,” the Siren said from behind her. ”Our little game has just begun.”

The Dark Angel of Gotham whirled to face the unexpected threat. “Siren!”

“Exactly, my dear!” the evil enchantress enthused, stepping forward and gesturing toward Batman and Robin. “I have already bewitched these intrepid invaders, and I’m about to render you just as helpless.”

“Your sinister spells don’t work on women, Siren!” Batgirl reminded the voluptuous villainess. “This time I’m not standing on a glass floor, either!” Batgirl had once literally fallen into Siren’s clutches when the conniving chanteuse had used her voice to shatter a glass floor upon which the heroine stood.

“I won’t need my stunning note to deal with you. After all, I have them.”

“Doe, Rae, and Mimi?”

“I’d heard you knew my nymphs, but I don’t mean them. Boys, front and center!” Batman and Robin sprang to life and approached the two women. Fear flickered behind Batgirl’s eyes.

The Dark Angel quickly recovered her composure. “As I recall, your spells are only temporary. If you have them attack me, I only have to wait for your influence to fade before the three of us take care of you and your rotten gang.”

“That would be interesting, given what impressive fighters my new minions are. But I have no intention of asking either of them to lay a finger on you.”

“You are making a wise choice.”

“Don’t get cocky, Batgirl! Unless you surrender to me instantly and unconditionally, I’ll order Batman and Robin to fight . . .

. . . to the death!

Batgirl’s first reaction was shock, then horror. “They’d never do it!” she declared.

“You think not? Let’s see. Just a few years ago, this idea would have been inconceivable because Batman would have wiped the floor with the Boy Blunder. Now, however, the little bird has grown up. It’s obvious he works out. He probably hasn’t had time to have any fun, but once he’s rid of Batman, that could all change.

“Of course, I don’t mean to suggest Batman is less of a physical specimen than he ever was.” The Siren moved around her gorgeous gladiators and nodded with lecherous approval. “So, tell me, boys. What do you think?”

“I have a longer reach, more weight, more experience, and a greater will to serve you, Siren,” Batman declared. “Robin could not hope to kill me.”

“Holy Overconfidence!” Robin said. ”I’m younger and faster. Besides, Batman only thinks he taught me everything I know about fighting.”

“I did, old chum. What I never taught you, though, was how to beat me.”

“Preparing, no doubt, for a situation just like this,” the Siren gushed. “Exquisite!”

“Batman thinks of me as just the student, but he should know I have a few tricks up my glove. I can beat the master. One might say the circle is nearly complete.”

“You’re only a master of pre-fight wordplay, Robin,” Batman said. “You’d need a lot of luck to beat me.”

“Less than you might think, Batman!”

“Shall we make this even more interesting?” the Siren asked. “I’ll put the winner under a much deeper spell and reward him do letting him do whatever he wants to Batgirl.”

“You’re very generous, Siren,” Batman remarked.

“I’ll say,” Robin agreed.

Batgirl stood in stunned silence. ‘Batman and Robin are acting totally out of character! I can’t believe the Siren’s spell is this effective!’

“Of course, Batgirl, you can avoid the whole unpleasant experience by surrendering.”

Batgirl shook her head.

Robin gestured toward the center of the room. “Shall we get on with it?”

“After you, old chum,” Batman invited. They moved to the center of the room and assumed fighting stances, eyeing one another.

“Say, boss, don’t you think the winner have more fun with us?” Mimi asked, letting her hands come to rest on her shapely hips.

“Good point,” Siren agreed. “The winner will choose between our representatives and Batgirl.”

Doe, Rae, and Mimi giggled happily. Then, Rae asked. “Are you ready?”

The combatants hesitated. “Hey!” Doe said. “She asked, ‘Are you ready?’”

“I think they’re ready to rumble,” Mimi said.

A mischievous gleam twinkled in the Siren’s dark eyes. “Would you care to start them off, Batgirl?” she asked.

“No matter what happens, Siren,” Batgirl replied, “the only person going down around here in the end will be you.”

“All right, you two,” the Siren said to the Dynamic Duo, as a delighted smile brightened her face, “Fight!”

“Come on!” Robin said. He stepped toward Batman.

“Right! Let’s get it on!” the Dark Knight invited. The Dynamic Duo began to circle one another.

“Stop it, Siren!” Batgirl said.

“Not until you surrender unconditionally, Batgirl!” Siren said, laughing melodiously. “Until then, we’ll have a bizarre, barbaric bout between my new boytoys to enjoy.”

The caped combatants continued circling one another. Robin fired a punch, which Batman blocked easily. The follow-up shot landed in the center of the younger hero’s chest. Instead of falling, Robin feinted and landed a blow of his own.

“Batman! Robin!” Batgirl yelled. “Stop!” They were oblivious to her entreaties.

Siren moved casually beside the heroine. “Cheer up, Batgirl. I’ll let you tend to the loser’s wounds.” Siren paused. “Oh, I forgot. The loser will be dead!” Siren’s delighted laugh became infectious as Doe, Rae, and Mimi joined her.

Batman and Robin grappled, each trying to force the other to give ground.

“Stop it!” Batgirl shouted, desperation evident in her voice.

Robin kicked at Batman’s groin, but the Dark Knight blocked with a raised knee. If they had been sparring, an ongoing critique would have accompanied their attacks and defenses. Both, however, anticipated a long, brutal, no-holds-barred battle and fought silently to conserve energy.

Batgirl turned to the villainess. “Siren, stop this!” Batgirl said. “I won’t stand here, watching them fight each other!”

“Then you surrender, Batgirl?”

Robin penetrated Batman’s defenses and landed a series of stunning blows. He stepped behind his mentor and began to apply pressure to the neck, slowing the flow of blood to Batman’s brain.

“Nicely done, chum.” Batman said between grunts.

“Thank you, Batman,” the twenty-year-old Titan said.

“You’re aware there are seven counters from this position?”

“Yes.”

“Three involve minimal contact. Three kill.” Robin increased the pressure on Batman’s neck “I won’t kill you yet, old chum, because the method I will use to break your hold hurts.” Batman executed his maneuver and was rewarded by a scream from Robin.

“Because their lives are at stake, Siren, I will surrender,” Batgirl softly said.

“Unconditionally?” the Siren asked sweetly.

Batgirl saw a new level of pain register on Robin’s face, as Batman wrenched his arm, twisting.

“Yes, yes! I surrender unconditionally. Now, stop the fight!”

“You’ll need to remove your utility belt first.”

“Why you–”

Robin flew across the room, recovered and went charging at Batman.

Batgirl removed her belt.

“Mimi, would you see to Batgirl’s belt?” The blonde henchwoman took the belt from purple-gloved hands.

“Good,” the Siren said happily. “Now, Batgirl, we’ll just have to get on with my plans for you. Doe, get some rope. Rae, bind Batgirl’s hands behind her.”

“Siren, stop the fight! We had a deal!”

Doe handed Rae a rope, which the brunette wound tightly around Batgirl’s wrists.

“You are such a trusting fool, Batgirl,” Siren chided, with a wicked giggle. She let her words hang in the air. The Siren stared at Batgirl’s horrified face for a moment as the tension starkly defined the heroine’s features.

“However, I didn’t plan for Batman and Robin to die like this.” Batgirl let hope soften her face as the Siren turned to the battle. “Batman and Robin, that’s quite enough. Thank you. Stop!” Both fighters halted with their fists millimeters from landing another punch. “Where was I? Oh, yes. Boys! Seize Batgirl!”

“Now that you have me, Siren, what are you going to do with me?”

“You’ll find out, soon enough. Girls, I propose to put my new henchmen to good use. Boys, take her by the arms, lift her up and bring her.”

The Dynamic Duo gripped the pretty prisoner by her upper arms and lifted her off the floor.

“This method of restraint and transportation is diabolically clever, Siren,” Batman complimented.

“Where shall we take her, Siren?” Robin asked.

“Thank you, Batman. Boys, follow the girls! They know where to take her. Mimi, lead the way.” Siren watched as her stooges carried her prisoner to her fate. The Siren followed, laughing melodiously.

Minutes later, Batgirl felt herself unceremoniously shoved through a door. She stumbled to a wooden floor and gingerly rose to her feet, as the door closed and locked behind her. Lights almost instantly illuminated her prison, which was, in fact, a sound stage, sporting microphones on stands, amplifiers, musical instruments, and other sound equipment. Large speakers stood on either side of the stage.

“What’s going on?” Batgirl demanded.

Another light suddenly revealed the Siren standing behind a glass panel separating the sound stage from the booth where the work of its users was directed. Doe, Rae, and Mimi sat at the controls beside the terrible troubadour. Batman and Robin stood in the background, rigid and silent. Batgirl walked toward the villains.

“I’m about to orchestrate your final performance, Batgirl,” the sinister songstress answered.

“My final performance,” the captive cutie repeated. “I’ve heard that number before.”

“Indeed. I think you’ll find my plans for your destruction quite creative. You see, I started dreaming up new uses for my stunning voice and got the idea of expanding into other malfeasant maneuvers involving different sounds.”

“How very diverse of you,” Batgirl said.

The Siren beamed and said, “In prison, I discovered sound can be a more powerful weapon than I had ever imagined. Apparently, for thousands of years, monks and shamans around the world have used songs and sounds for healing. In fact, at one time, such techniques were particularly prominent in Tibet and Mongolia.”

“What does ancient Mongolia have to do with the here and now, Siren?” Mimi asked.

“Many criminals around town have used sound as a weapon,” Siren began.

“Our old boss, Chandell, has a twin brother, Harry. Harry tried to perforate Batman and Robin into player piano rolls,” Doe explained.

“Right,” Rae added. “Also, the Minstrel threatened to shake off Batman and Robin’s heads.”

Doe glanced sharply at her brunette partner, but the Siren continued before the redheaded rogue could follow up on the nonverbal reproach. “Catwoman and I have both attacked various subjects with sound waves. We tried to destroy the mind by turning the brain to mush, but our victims have always escaped before the process was complete. Our goal, on those occasions, was to keep the physical leftovers intact to play with, or, in your case, Batgirl, to sell to someone who wanted a living Bat Doll with which to play.”

“You’re despicable!” Batgirl accused.

“Do you really think so?” the Siren asked with a wicked laugh. “Today, you would still make a beautiful, life-sized Bat-Dolly, but I, or perhaps I should say we, already have two marvelously muscular boytoys with whom to play.” All of the women turned to Batman and Robin and licked their lips.

“What are you going to do with Batman and Robin?” Batgirl demanded.

“When I’ve finished toying with them, you mean?”

“Call it what you like, Siren!” Batgirl said. She reached the glass pane separating her from her enemies and leaned forward to fix the Siren with a hard stare. The villainess’ mocking smile was not improving Batgirl’s mood. “What are your ultimate plans for Batman and Robin?”

The Siren sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to put them away forever, because you know my spell won’t last nearly that long.”

“You will never get away with this,” Batgirl predicted. “You do know that, don’t you?”

“We’ll soon see, my gorgeous guinea pig. Together, we’ll explore how sound acts as a bridge to higher consciousness, and then how it can be used as a weapon.”

“You’re perverting ancient healing techniques?” Batgirl asked. Her voice exuded incredulity as she made her accusation into a question.

“Precisely,” the voluptuous villainess answered.

“How will we do that, boss?” Mimi asked.

“We will begin by placing Batgirl into an alien sound environment, where nothing is recognizable. What she will hear, most people have never experienced before. In time, she will have no idea what to expect. In this environment of uncertainty, her nervous system will be put into a kind of survival mode.” The Siren paused to laugh. “All sensory input signals will soon command the nervous system's attention at every level. With her senses tuned to that level, attention to detail will be extended to a new, subconscious level. Thus, Batgirl’s mind will be receptive to practically anything.”

“Interesting,” Doe commented. “It sounds like a useful state in which to put the mind. What can we do with our subject once she is prepared?"

“Once we’ve induced this state in Batgirl, we could load her with post-hypnotic suggestions or probe into the deepest depths of her subconscious to ferret out the things she has hidden there. Remember how the Scarecrow used drugs on the costumed crimefighters to make them face their greatest fear? For some reason, it didn’t work on Batgirl. This technique might easily unlock that information.”

“I’ll tell you nothing, Siren,” Batgirl said defiantly.

“I don’t expect you to talk, Batgirl. I expect you to die,” Siren responded.

“You’ll want the process filmed, won’t you?” Rae inquired.

“I will indeed,” the Siren answered. “You see, the ancients used sound to heal, but I want to discover what its destructive potential might be. In deeper states of meditation and stress reduction, even more profound effects on physiology can be manifest. For example, body temperature as well as white and red blood cell counts can be altered and even controlled. Some people upon whom these therapeutic techniques are used radically change their lives, but the psychological benefits they enjoy are difficult to measure. Subjects only report they feel more centered, balanced and have a better handle on different levels of their lives.”

“Can the lecture and get on with it!” Batgirl demanded.

The Siren smiled thinly. “In just a few seconds, Batgirl, your greatest wish will be that I delayed the procedure even one second longer.” The Siren turned her attention to her cohorts. “Are the preparations complete?”

“The camera is ready,” Rae reported.

“The sound sequences are prepared,” Mimi said.

“Volume is set to maximum,” Doe said, smiling wickedly at Batgirl. She turned to the Siren in response to a glance and made a thumbs-up gesture “Everything is A-OK!”

“Siren, your experiment sounds worthy of the Nazi Angel of Death, Joseph Mengele, or Rihab Taha, the Iraqi woman known as Dr. Germs!” Batgirl declared.

“Consider, Batgirl,” the Siren said, “a sustained tone of about 20,000 decibels can split a mammal’s skull.”

“Once we start the sounds playing . . .” Mimi began, following her evil employer’s line of thought.

“. . . we’ll leave the sound waves to do their woeful work on you,” Rae added, as a wicked smile illuminated her pretty face as well.

“Shortly after our departure, your mind will shatter and your body will be slowly jellified,” Doe elaborated.

“Precisely, girls,” the Siren praised when the fiendish foursome had finished laughing. “You may engage at a time of your choosing, once I’ve gone. When Batgirl is writhing in horrific agony, start packing. Oh, I’ll need you to use the stairs on your way down. I want the cops, when they arrive, to find whatever may be left of the Terrific Trio, but their remains should be the only sign we were ever here.”

Siren returned her attention to her female victim. “At the moment, you remain a magnificent maiden. Very soon, however, there will be nothing left of you but a sticky mess. Goodbye, Batgirl. My naughty nymphs will attend to the details of your finale. Enjoy your revenge, girls.”

Siren turned from her voluptuous victim and picked up a case the size of a lunch box. “Batman and Robin, come, but leave your belts!” On the way out, Siren hit a button to summon the elevator to the top floor. Then, she led her handsome hangers-on to the stairs.

Once they had gone, Doe switched on the sound equipment.

The terrible trio watched as Siren’s sinister sound waves began bombarding Batgirl’s balance and making her retreat, swaying. Slowly, the acoustic assault brought Batgirl from her feet to her knees. Helplessly, she felt her body bend backward, descending lower and lower until her shoulders touched the floor and her legs unfolded from beneath her. She squirmed there prettily, in acute pain.

The vexatious vibrations were proving completely effective. Batgirl was utterly helpless.

Her attractive attackers looked on with demonic delight as the Pulchritudinous Paragon of Virtue suffered. They pointed at her, laughed, and became engrossed in observing the effects Siren’s sinister sounds were having. Batgirl’s excruciating torture continued relentlessly.

Suddenly, the Svelte Sentinel received an unexpected respite, as Rae’s voice replaced the oppressive onslaught of sound. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to take Siren to the Songbirds’ Nest?”

“I don’t see why not. Our other employer is abroad.” Doe replied.

“The way Siren’s moving us around,” Mimi said, “we won’t be there long enough for anyone to notice we used the place anyway. Hey! Batgirl can hear us.”

“That won’t matter,” Doe said. “She won’t be around long enough to make use of the information. Let’s get going.”

Doe, Rae, and Mimi stood and took a long, last look at the besieged beauty, as Batgirl’s tortured twitching resumed. Each member of the evil entourage curtseyed and took her leave, laughing all the while with demonic delight.

Meanwhile, Siren led Batman and Robin down the stairs to the building’s lowest level. There they made their way through an intricate series of labyrinthine corridors. “I’m afraid my spell will wear off of you both very soon.”

“Holy Abandonment, Siren! We’ll miss you,” Robin lamented.

“I’ll miss you boys, too,” their luscious leader said. “You’ve been very useful.”

“Batgirl is finished, then?” Batman asked.

“Quite finished, Batman. No one can possibly save her now. Ah, here we are,” she said, indicating a row of elevator doors. She selected the one she wanted and turned to her companions. “All right, boys, open the shaft.”

Batman and Robin obeyed. It took their combined strength to separate the doors. As they followed her instructions, Siren switched off the elevator power to insure that her victims’ tomb would remain accessible.

“Well done,” the Siren complimented. She took two rolls from the case she had carried down from the recording studio and handed one to each hero. “Now, take this magnetic tape and unroll it in the grooves of the edges of the doors you just opened. When they close, that shaft will be shut tight,” Siren said, giggling girlishly while they obeyed.

“Now,” the desirable diva directed, “kindly step into the elevator shaft and turn around.”

“What else can we do for you, Siren?” Batman asked.

“Not a thing, Batman.” She stepped toward him, wrapped her arms around his neck, raised her lips to his, and kissed him hard. Batman responded. Robin looked on, feeling left out, until their kiss ended and the shapely sorceress touched the Boy Wonder as well and lingered lovingly in his arms. “You two were spectacular.”

“Are you sure there is nothing else we can do to help you?” Batman asked.

“We’ll happily do anything you ask,” Robin reminded the ravishing rogue.

Siren thought, extricated herself from the Boy Wonder’s arms, and retrieved the case in which she had carried the magnetic tape. She extracted a length of rope and handed it to her handsome young robot. “Robin, please bind Batman’s hands behind him, very tightly.”

“It would be my pleasure, Siren. What will you do about my hands?”

“I’ll have to tie them myself,” she said, taking a second length of rope herself. “Once my spell wears off in a few minutes, every second will count. Tell me. Are you two still helpless against Vietnamese Double Cross Knots?”

“I’m afraid we mastered that one after you left us to die at the Gotham City Savings and Loan Company,” Robin said. “I’d recommend a Winding Western Half Hitch with a sliding loop. It can take one person familiar with the knot about an hour to untie it.”

“Good thinking, Robin. What did you use to tie my hands?” Batman asked.

“I used a Looping Double Hitched Twist on a bight. I imagine that will hold you, Batman.”

“Splendid, my doting darlings. With your hands tied so well, you haven’t a hope of freeing yourselves from this shaft once I summon the elevator to crush you,” the lovely lawbreaker cooed.

“Thank you,” the Dynamic Duo said as their comely killer stepped back.

“Now, just stay there. I have to be going. Some heavenly jewels are just waiting for me to heist them, but first things first. Before I go, I’ll turn the power on and bring down the elevator on top of you. Remember, the magnetic tape you put on the doors for me will keep your tomb sealed forever. Goodbye and happy landings.” Siren laughed, threw the power switch and touched the button summoning the overhead elevator car.. The doors began to close.

“Goodbye, Siren,” Batman called after her.

“Good luck with your plans,” Robin added.

The panels closed between the Siren and her captives. “My plans for you two are complete, but for Batgirl, my evil emanations have only begun to be employed. Before her flesh and bones are shredded, she’ll enjoy the most excruciating experience imaginable and it will seem to go on forever!”

The Siren mounted the stairs and began to climb. Several floors above them, Batgirl had discovered the truth of the Siren’s last words.

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