THE WORST IS YET TO COME!

Lead Where the Siren Wails

Batgirl’s weight resting on her arms had brought the stinging pins and needles of oxygen deprivation along their length. Her face contorted with pain as she tried to concentrate on a means of relieving the agony to which the Siren’s sinister sound waves were subjecting her.

She thrashed like a fish in the bottom of a boat, turning her head to place one ear and then the other against the wooden floor, vainly trying to muffle the din. Her first anguished scream was torn from her throat shortly after Doe, Rae and Mimi had left, and the sonic barrage besieging her drowned her subsequent cries as effectively as it had the first.

Her mind wandered to the many horrific brushes with torture she had endured in the past. Her primary personal nemesis, Nora Clavicle, had incorporated Batgirl into several Siamese Human Knots. These had both physical and psychological dimensions. Victims of this exquisitely evil entanglement knew any movement drew the knot tighter, crushing bones and slowly inducing strangulation. Gotham’s Dark Angel considered Batman’s description of the trap as “torture, at its most bizarre and terrible,” quite accurate.

Her second most sinister personal adversary, Playgirl, had encased her in an enlarged pinball machine at their first meeting. At first, its purpose had apparently been nothing more than to have hitting the targets result in Batgirl receiving a pinch and a tickle. Soon, however, Batgirl learned that the machine’s lights caused ever-increasing electrical shocks, while the targets triggered more painful pokes and prods to the Delectable Daredevil as the Gangster Gal of Games played.

Legs Parker and her shapely sycophants had laced the heroine’s limbs in such a way that the slightest move would strangle her. That torturous sensation had only been the beginning. Legs’ harem of henchwomen had later worked Batgirl over with heat, cold, electricity, constricting wires, and feathers.

That occasion had been the second time feathers had been used against her. The first time had been the Joker’s idea. The Clown Prince of Crime had used a machine to tickle her through her tight-fitting lurex costume to the point the sensations his fiendish feathers induced threatened her very sanity.

Suddenly, Batgirl was torn from her melancholy musings by a fact that pierced her heart like a wooden stake. The room had gone totally silent!

The sharp intake of her breath was actually painful. Had she gone completely deaf?

As she exhaled, she felt her body relax.

“I can still hear!” she said aloud. The single sentence had sounded very loud. Unless she could figure a way to escape, she would become deaf, and that would only be the first of her problems.

Another volley of vibrations burst from the speakers, causing Batgirl’s muscles to harden and her body to begin thrashing once again. She gritted her teeth.

She knew what was happening. The sounds would start and stop randomly, to prevent her from becoming numb to their ill effects. The Joker’s tickling machine had been similarly employed.

After a few torturous eternities, she realized she was handling this sonic siege better. This time, she could think about escaping!

Time was of the essence. Batgirl knew it would be impossible to take too many more auditory onslaughts before her flesh would begin to be shredded by the Siren’s terrible tones. This meant she would HAVE to quickly find a means of escaping.

To regain use of her arms, which she knew she would need, Batgirl realized she would have to roll onto her stomach. She tried once without success, and again slid onto her back. She managed to roll to her side on her second attempt and spotted a microphone stand.

The tonal torture disrupted Batgirl’s usually logical thought patterns. Like an obsessed mental patient, she focused on the microphone stand to the exclusion of all else. For no particular reason, reaching that device became her sole purpose in life.

Batgirl pushed herself toward it vigorously with her legs. Rolling across the floor, she was exhausted when she reached the solitary stand. She felt it catch her as her shoulders began to return to the floor. She rested for a moment, then shifted her weight so her body finished rolling and came to rest on her stomach. In illogical triumph, Gotham’s Dark Angel exhaled. A long breath escaped her lungs before her success allowed her to resume searching for a means of release from the electronic torture chamber and the ignominious end it promised.

A particularly excruciating note heralded the next period of utter silence. 'I . . . I don't know which is worse,' Batgirl thought, 'the sound . . . or not knowing when it will begin again.'

Batgirl had, in effect, become her own torturer. 'When?' her brain kept asking, 'When will it start again?' She steeled herself against the moment, tensed every nerve – but the sound didn't come.

Then suddenly–!

The noise returned, more horrible than ever. Eerie, alien sounds filled the room. Batgirl rolled back and forth on her stomach, moaning . . . then screaming, her hands still securely tied behind her back.

Silence returned.

This time Batgirl’s labored breathing told her she could still hear. She closed her eyes for a moment as she struggled to clear her mind and recall the layout of the sound stage. When she opened her eyes again, Batgirl realized she was literally staring at the solution to half of her problems: the microphone cord! As she stared, she wrapped her mind around an idea she could confirm with a mere glance.

All of the equipment arrayed against her had cords and wires she could reach. All that would be necessary to sabotage the Siren’s setup would be to maneuver into reach of the speakers!

Unfortunately, the giant speakers were on opposite sides of the room, and she would have to maneuver around more equipment to reach either of them. She bent her legs and leaned as far back as she possibly could. Her slow ascent was interrupted by the return of the acoustic attack. She fell back to the floor.

‘I will not give up!’ Batgirl told herself. Although her reason had been frayed, her indomitable willpower was intact. Bracing herself, she labored to her feet and began to move forward.

Every step toward her goal resulted in increasingly intense agony. She had taken less than ten steps when she felt herself crash painfully back to the floor. She regained her feet, faltered, caught herself, and stumbled toward her objective as the sonic siege on her equilibrium intensified. She had almost reached the speaker when she gave in, falling forward and landing within inches of the back of the speaker she had approached.

She lay for a moment waiting for the pain to subside. When it did not, she shimmied forward and moved her head behind the speaker.

The difference was dramatic, to say the least. The sounds emanating from the speaker she was partially behind were intended to assail a victim in the center of the stage. Now this speaker physically shielded Batgirl against much of the sound from the other side of the room. Wanly, Batgirl forced herself to smile. She had confirmed her belief in the key to her escape.

All too slowly, Batgirl positioned herself where she could kick at the back of the huge speaker from the floor. Her first attempt caused it to teeter and return to its original position. Batgirl changed her position and lunged at the speaker again. A direct hit knocked the box forward and over. Wires detached from the back and it went silent.

“Yes!” Batgirl shouted. She could hardly hear herself.

Unless she hurried to disable the remaining speaker, the damage to her hearing might be permanent, beyond even Batman’s ability to repair. Batgirl knew sign language and could lip read. She had several hearing-impaired friends and was confident, with hard work and dedication, she could eventually adjust to the condition. There was, however, another consideration.

She would not be able to plausibly explain Barbara Gordon’s sudden deafness, coincident with either Batgirl’s loss of hearing or the heroine’s permanent disappearance. What would her father think? She had resigned herself to the fact her father might someday learn her secret, especially if he outlived her. The rest of the city, however, could never know. Both she and her father would be surrounded by danger at every conceivable turn if her secret became public knowledge. Batgirl decided the loss of her private and family life in such circumstances would bother her more than dying.

Frustrated, she snatched the speaker’s bare wires. She realized power would still be running through them.

Laughing delightedly, she touched the ropes binding her hands to the electrified wires and held still. It seemed like an eternity before she smelled smoke. Batgirl patiently remained motionless and let tiny flames begin to lick at the ropes binding her wrists. When she began to fear her gloves would ignite, she hardened the muscles in her arms and separated them fiercely. The singed bonds gave way!

She leapt to her feet, slipped off her cape and quickly smothered the flames. Batgirl did not want fire-retardant foam pumped into the room to smother the fire – and her. Sudden, intense pain throbbed all over her body as the most recent period of silence ended. Instantly, Batgirl clapped her hands over her ears and approached the speaker across the room.

Despite the protection of her hands, Batgirl felt the effects of the barrage of sound waves she approached. Her journey across the room began at a run. The sounds bent her into a crouch and had her back on her knees by the time she was halfway to her goal. For balance, she had to stop using her hands to cover her ears. Slowly, she crawled forward, feeling her body beginning to crumble beneath her weight. She willed herself to fall forward and finally collapsed right in front of the speaker, where the deadly decibels washed over her, tearing at her all the while.

The sound stage was silent when Batgirl felt strong enough to move again. “Come on, girl. You’re almost out of here,” she told herself. Something about her voice sounded wrong. She raised an arm and felt it fall back the floor. Her other arm did likewise. She considered resting for a long while before escaping, but somehow knew she would not survive many more salvos of the Siren’s sinister sounds.

Too soon the speaker in front of her began blaring again, tearing painfully at her body and tightening her muscles. Absently, Batgirl wondered if she would be numb to pain before she died. Then, she realized what she was thinking and froze, horrified. She tried for a deep breath and felt her chest heaving instead. “No! I will not die like this!” she decided aloud.

The noxious noise suddenly ceased. Weakly, she raised herself to fingertips and toes before flinging herself desperately at the speaker. Her weight hit the box up high and tipped it back. She collapsed on top of it . . . and realized she had now put herself in the most dangerous position since Doe, Rae, and Mimi had activated this awful, acoustic arrangement!

Her body lay splayed on top of the speaker, offered in a position as close as she could possibly be to the sinister sound waves. Batgirl knew she would never survive the next orchestral onslaught in her current position!

She could reach the wicked wires from her position atop the speaker, but would never be able to detach them because both the speaker and her body lay on top of them. Her hand instinctively shot back to retrieve a pair of wire cutters from her utility belt, but her fingers encountered only the smooth, tautly stretched lurex of her costume. She had surrendered her utility belt to the Siren.

She HAD to get off of the speaker!

Batgirl flung her outstretched arm forward and gripped the edge of the speaker ahead of her. Seconds later, her other arm was parallel to the first and she began to pull herself inch by inch toward the edge of the speaker. Her efforts seemed to exhaust her as she pulled the top of her head, her eyes, her chin, and her breasts across the edge of the sinister sound box.

She put her fingertips on the floor, intending to tumble after them, but felt the strength of her arms desert her as they took her weight. Her hips slid from speaker with her long legs slithering behind them. Sound suddenly burst from the speaker! She had gotten off just in time!

The renewed volume triggered a survival instinct in the Plucky Paragon that made her bend her legs. She clutched wires and yanked at them savagely without effect.

“No!” Batgirl cried as her weight settled on top of her limbs. She felt defeated now . . . and completely exhausted. The Siren had finally succeeded where so many others had failed. All that remained was to stretch out, surrender to the pain, and wait for the end. As she straightened, she felt her feet hit an obstruction.

Batgirl gritted her teeth and fumed. This trap would not even allow her to die in the position she desired. She felt a last rush of adrenaline as she flattened her feet against the obstruction and thrust it away from her viciously.

The chamber fell silent as the wires her fingers still gripped detached from the evil equipment.

With a delighted thrill, Batgirl knew the Siren’s trap had failed after all!

She suddenly realized the extent to which she had been relying on adrenaline to stay alive since the sonic siege had begun. Her lips curled into a smile as she heard herself moan. Pain now told Batgirl she was still alive, but she had used the last ounce of her strength. She closed her eyes and gratefully allowed blackness to envelope her.

Far below Batgirl, the Siren’s former male sycophants had found themselves bound and sealed in a dark elevator shaft, where a soft hum echoed.

“Holy Altered States, Batman! Siren got us to do her bidding . . . again!”

“It’s an old story, chum, and if we don’t get out of here, it’s going to have the ending Siren intends this time.”

“We can’t count on Batgirl to help us,” Robin declared. He recalled a previous encounter with the Siren, when he and Batman had recovered from the sinister sorceress’ spell to find they had robbed the Gotham City Savings and Loan Company. For their trouble, the Siren had left them with a ticking bomb and less than four minutes to escape before it exploded. Only Batgirl’s intervention had saved them.

“I agree, Robin. Siren’s plans for Batgirl are probably well underway by now, but we have to get out of here before we can help her.”

“What can we do? There is no telling how long we have before the elevator crushes us . . . and we don’t have any compressed air like we did when Penguin tried to smash us into a block of scrap metal.”

“First, let’s focus on the present and free ourselves from these fiendish bonds.” The Dynamic Duo stood back to back and Robin began methodically tearing at Batman’s knots.

“We chose these knots, Batman. Are you sure we’ll be able to untie them in time?”

“Any knot will eventually yield. Patience and persistence would ordinarily be the order of the day . . . but we’ll get out this time because I’ve just reached the Bat-Blade I slipped into my glove!” the Caped Crusader said. Severed ropes hit the floor seconds later.

Robin stepped to the doors and began to run his gloved hand over the panels imprisoning them. “It’s completely solid. I don’t think we could position the Bat-Magnet to reverse the polarity of Siren’s magnetic tape . . . even if it were here.” As Robin lamented the thoroughness of the Siren’s trap, he looked up to see if he could tell how close the descending car was to them. Batman was looking in the same direction.

“Give me a leg up, chum. We aren’t dead yet.”

Obediently, Robin laced his fingers together and held them at the level of his waist. Batman stepped into his partner’s hands and was lifted up the shaft. “Hurry, Batman! I can hear the elevator coming!”

Batman soon found what he sought. “It’s just as I thought, Robin.” The Boy Wonder felt Batman’s foot rise from his entwined fingers.

“What do you find up there, Batman?”

“At each level, the elevator stops at a narrow ledge. Grab my hand. I’ll pull you up to the first one.” Soon the Dynamic Duo stood beside one another, flattened against the panels of the elevator door on the floor above where they had been trapped.

“Do we have time to open the doors here?”

“Not now. The elevator will pass us soon. I wouldn’t want to be swept from this ledge as it passes.”

“Gosh, no!” Robin agreed, shuddering.

They pressed themselves more tightly against the panels as the elevator passed them and stopped at the bottom of the shaft.

“Now, to open these doors,” Robin said.

Batman gripped the young man’s wrist as he began to turn. “There may be an easier way.”

“How?” Robin thought for a moment and slammed his fist into his palm. “The trapdoor in the top of the elevator! We can ride the elevator to Batgirl’s rescue!”

“You’ve done it again, old chum.”

Moments later, Robin had retrieved the Siren’s recorded sound sequences and was switching off controls in the booth beside the sound stage, while Batman picked up Batgirl’s prone body and set her supine on a padded bench in a nearby corridor. She moaned as her eyes fluttered open. “Batman?” she said. Her voice sounded very soft.

“Are you all right, Batgirl?”

“What?” To Batgirl, Batman’s voice was even softer.

The Caped Crusader repeated his question more loudly.

“I will be, after I get some rest,” she answered, grinning up at him. “I’ll probably be hard of hearing for a little while.”

“I know the feeling,” Batman said, nodding and recalling the aftereffects of Catwoman’s giant echo chamber, which had magnified the tiniest sound ten million times. On that occasion, the feline fiend had tried to drive him and Robin mad with a dripping faucet.

Batgirl put her hands behind Batman’s neck and let him pull her into a sitting position. On the way she gasped and fell against him. His voice filled of concern. “Batgirl!”

“I’m okay,” she assured him. “Please just hold me for awhile.” Batman nodded again as Batgirl smiled.

Robin saw his mentor cradle his comely cohort and decided to search the building. Once, he might have run up and interrupted, but he had found himself comforting Flamebird in a similar manner recently and decided he would not have wanted to be interrupted in that situation. He began to explore randomly. His tour of the building yielded nothing but all of their utility belts and the video recording of Batgirl’s harrowing experience, which he reasoned would be useful evidence.

Batman and Batgirl were on their feet when Robin returned and handed their belts to them. “Boy, did we walk into that one!” he said, slamming his fist into his glove. “Holy Clay Pigeons!” Batgirl shot a pained glance at him and he recalled how they had taken her to the Batcave after her last encounter with the Siren to correct possible damage to her hearing. “I’m sorry,” he softly said.

“I’ll be fine, Robin. Thank you. Our task now is to puzzle out Siren’s next move.”

“What was it Siren said before she left us to die?” Batman asked.

“I seem to recall her mentioning a jewel heist,” Robin replied.

“Her henchwomen inadvertently let me overhear them talking about a place they called the Songbirds’ Nest,” Batgirl confided. “They may be planning to hide out there.”

“I think we should focus on Siren’s impending crimes,” Batman advised. “Robin’s remembrance reminded me that Siren described the jewels she planned to steal as ‘heavenly.’”

“What could that mean, Batman?” Robin asked.

“I’m not sure,” Batman admitted. “Perhaps a session with the Batcomputer will provide a clue.”

In the Batcave later that morning, the Dynamic Duo researched jewels in the Bat Computer’s memory banks.

“There have been a number of diamonds around town like the Ghiaccio Circolo, the Ice Circle; the Devil’s Teardrop; Marie Antoinette’s Tierra; the Twins; the Pretzel Diamond; and the Mope Diamond,” Robin said.

“There are some other notable stones as well, such as the Flame of Kasmir Ruby, or Batagonian Cat’s Eye Opals,” Batman said. “Perhaps the jewels Siren spoke of are inlaid in something else, the Jeweled Key of Caincardine, for instance.”

“I remember when the Joker stole that key. It’s encrusted with a king’s ransom in diamonds, along with rubies in its loop, emeralds in the stem, sapphires in its collar, and fire opals in the bit. Didn’t Angus Ferguson take it with him along with the rest of his fabulous key collection when he returned to his old country?”

“Good thinking, Robin. The Ghiaccio Circolo, which graces the throat of international socialite, Princess Sandra, is also out of the country. She is gambling in Morocco. Let’s turn this line of thinking around.”

“You mean learn what jewels may have recently arrived in Gotham City?”

“Precisely. I’ll have the Batcomputer search newspaper articles for the past few months.”

After a time, the Batcomputer delivered a card. Although Batman could have long ago programmed the electronic marvel to display the information on a screen, there was something he liked about holding a clue in his glove. Batman snatched the card, read it and handed the hard copy to Robin. “A certain sapphire called the Midnight Star . . .” the Caped Crusader thoughtfully said.

“This could be it,” Robin said. Just then, another card appeared. “Holy Thunderbolts! What about the Jovian Jewels?!”

Batman glanced at the card Robin handed him. “Siren has based her criminal cognomen on a mythological creature. Jove, or Jupiter, was the king of the Roman gods who corresponded with the Greek Zeus.”

“She told us she would heist heavenly jewels! What else could it mean?”

A third card indicated the Midnight Star was on display with a collection of diamonds called the Galaxy.

“I think our analysis points to the Jovian Jewels, chum. Now, how is the other project coming?”

“The Batsound Analyzer has given us this report on the sound sequences Siren used to try to rend Batgirl,” Robin said, handing his senior partner a printout.

“Good. With this information, we’ll be able to come up with a more effective defense against Siren’s attack. I’ll do the testing while you are in class today.”

“Holy Homework! I almost forgot!” Robin raced towards the Batpoles, hitting the Compressed Steam Batlift along the way. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Be ready for action, old chum!" Batman called over the hiss of the steam. "Unless I miss my guess, we should see plenty!”

For Batgirl, things got worse before they got better. She endured an excruciatingly loud ride on her Batgirlcycle returning to Barbara Gordon’s apartment, where she soaked for an hour in a soothingly steamy bath. Barbara then crawled into bed, where she slept for a few hours in blessed silence.

The next morning, rules about virtual silence being maintained in the Midtown branch of the Gotham City Library were zealously enforced. That afternoon, Barbara Gordon retreated to her quiet office to work on her own.

That evening, she sat at her computer, downloading information from the massive Gotham City Police Database. “Okay, Charlie,” she softly said to her bird. Her hearing seemed almost normal to her now that nearly a day had passed since her ordeal. “Last night, Doe, Rae and Mimi were talking about using a place they called the ‘Songbirds’ Nest.’ It turns out there is a criminal gang called the Songbirds in Gotham City. Chief O’Hara has managed to have several known members under surveillance at various times. I’ll just have the computer gather locations these subjects frequented. I may learn where they hide out.” She tapped a key on her keyboard and the search began.

Meanwhile, the master of the Songbirds and the young woman who was his primary lieutenant landed in Gotham City on an international flight from Paris. The man carried a bag over his shoulder and an instrument case in his hand, while wrapping his free arm around his companion’s waist. She also had a bag over her shoulder with her purse. One arm swung freely at her side while the other encircled her companion’s waist. Her fingers played absently against his hip, according to her habit.

“The side trip to Paris was lovely. Thank you,” the young woman said softly.

“You’re most welcome. I’m glad you enjoyed it. I had a wonderful time, too.”

After clearing customs and claiming their checked baggage, the perfidious pair made their way to the Songbird’s Nest. They both frowned at the strange vehicle in the garage. “License plate ‘HI CEE’,” the melodious criminal mastermind observed aloud. ”I wonder. . . .”

“Someone has started advertising?” his companion observed. “We’ll have to have a word with them about that practice.” She was so much more than the typical empty-headed moll most of the villain’s contemporaries recruited. Her beauty equaled her intelligence and when necessary, she could act both decisively and ruthlessly. Her employer felt fortunate to have won her years ago.

“In any event, it will be good to get settled back in,” the man said, reaching for the door.

“Wait. Shall we look in on the help?”

“An excellent idea, my dear,” the villain complimented. He led the way to a trapdoor in the ceiling of the garage from which a ladder descended when he pulled it open. They climbed and concealed the hidden entrance to their lair once again. Moments later, they were looking at every room in the hideout on monitors. “It’s just as I suspected. Lorelei Circe seems to have moved in. The question is: why?”

“Just who is Lorelei Circe and how do you know her?” the girl demanded.

“You’re jealous, Octavia. That is so sweet.”

“Minstrel, I will become more than jealous if you don’t answer my question,” Octavia warned.

“Lorelei Circe is a retired opera diva who took up crime. She has since become better known to both of us as: The Siren.”

“She’s The Siren? Didn’t you build her an electronic voice box after Batman put her out of business?”

“I did. Incidentally, Robin put her out of business. I’ve always wondered why Batman was absent on that occasion.”

“You were telling me about Siren.”

“Yes, my pet. When I agreed to build that device for her, the job seemed like a good way to annoy that righteous reformer, Batman.” He drew Octavia to him and indicated the monitors. “At the moment our uninvited guest has no idea the hidden cameras are even there. I’ll turn on the microphones and we’ll see what we can learn about Siren’s plans.”

“Do you think we can use her to expand our jewel collection?”

“Time will tell. Let’s listen.” Octavia sat on his lap before the monitors and speakers, resting her head on his shoulder.

“What do you think of the place, boss?” Rae asked, leading the henchwomen into the room.

“It will do nicely, for awhile,” the Siren said.

“We’ve been moving around a lot lately,” Doe observed.

“That may not be necessary any longer, girls, now that Batman, Robin, and Batgirl have expired.”

“Are you at all worried about those other heroines, Batwoman and Flamebird?” Mimi asked.

“I’ll probably have to be, since they’ll be after their crime fighting confederates’ killers,” the Siren said. She paused to laugh melodiously. “Of course, with so many musically oriented criminals in Gotham City, we may never even be suspected.”

“Suppose we are, boss?” Rae asked.

“If Batwoman and Flamebird flap their wings anywhere near us, we’ll just have to be prepared to clip them – permanently.”

“Don’t we have better things to do than worry about a couple of second-rate heroines?” Mimi asked.

“Don’t underestimate them, girls,” the Siren warned. “In some ways, they may be more dangerous than Batman ever was.”

Doe laughed. “I’m sure we’ll have no trouble helping them assume room temperature, should the need arise.”

“Let’s move on to more immediate concerns,” the Siren suggested. “Tonight, we’ll steal the Jovian Jewels. Now, pay attention as I go over the details.”

“I thought those three worked for us,” Octavia said, indicating Doe, Rae, and Mimi. “Why are they calling her ‘boss?’”

“That is an excellent question, my dear,” the Minstrel said. “I have been paying them for months. When our preparations are complete, they were supposed to join the rest of the Songbirds and swoop in on an unsuspecting Gotham City.”

“Do we need any of the Jovian Jewels for your master plan?”

“No. The Midnight Star and its accompanying Galaxy of diamonds, however, will prove invaluable once we steal them.” Both were thoughtful until the Siren’s lecture was over. Then the Minstrel switched off the surveillance equipment.

“I’ll really hate losing this hideout,” the Minstrel remarked.

“What do you mean?” Octavia asked.

“Siren would appear to be a formidable adversary. Defeating her may require a sacrifice.”

“Why oppose her?”

“She’s trespassing.”

“Do you really think she’s done away with the Terrific Trio, Minstrel?”

“It’s hard to imagine, but not impossible.”

“It would make things simpler for us.”

“We’ll watch the news. There are plenty of other criminals who will draw them out if they are still alive. Unfortunately, our former staff may not be among them. I’ve decided not to forgive them for moonlighting with Siren.”

“I take it you won’t be needing Doe, Rae, or Mimi for your master plan?”

“They’ve jumped ship. They’ll go down when I sink it. Their choice has been made and there will be consequences.”

“You’re terminating them?”

“Only in a business sense. We will commit a robbery shortly after they do.”

“We’re going to frame Siren’s gang for the job?”

“Picturesque, don’t you think?”

“Lovely,” Octavia agreed. She began to laugh softly and he joined her.

“Besides,” the Minstrel went on, “what can any of them really do for me as long as I have you?”

She turned her head and let him kiss her lips. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him back. ”Is this room soundproof?” she asked mischievously some time later.

“I’m afraid not. Shall we retire to the studio for the evening?”

“Won’t we have work to do later tonight?”

“Well,” he said, smiling at her, “not until after Siren’s robbery.”

“I’ve always liked the studio. It’s cozy. Let’s go.” They departed without leaving a sign they had been present.

In the car, Octavia worked out the details of Minstrel’s plan for herself and began asking questions to confirm her guesses. “I trust we’ll be adding the Midnight Star to the Flame of Kasmir and the Batagonian Cat’s Eye Opal we’ve had stolen and the other stones from Amsterdam?”

“Very good, Octavia. I’ll make a super villainess out of you yet.”

“I’d rather stay with you. What I don’t understand is: why do you want the diamonds that make up the Galaxy?”

“We’ll be giving them away, as tribute to criminal royalty,” the Minstrel said.

Octavia snapped her fingers. “I’d forgotten about the diamond you still need. Who better to steal it for you than . . .

Marsha!?”

“I’m sure I can persuade the Queen of Diamonds to pick up a little bauble for us and then part with it. Ah, we’ve arrived.”

”Good.” Octavia led them into the abandoned broadcast facility from which they had orchestrated the dissemination of erroneous stock market data, which had led some investors to wildly irrational exuberance and others to suicidal despair. It had proven to be an excellent auxiliary headquarters over the years. Batman had discovered their initial headquarters at the Willow Street Warehouse, but not this hideout. Quickly, she reached an important decision and suggested, “Let’s unpack later.”

Harry Hummert, of Harry Hummert’s Jewelry Shop, had hired extra security to guard the Jovian Jewels, his new attraction to lure rich customers and wealthy window shoppers into the store. By day, doting debutantes admired the gems, as their gallant guardians kept them under watchful eyes. At night, however, the guards barely noticed the baubles, because their professional duties demanded their attention. Most nights, their minds never wavered from their jobs, but on this particular night, against the eye-catching, evil entourage illicitly entering the shop, they didn’t stand a chance.

Rae appeared first, knocking and standing posed for the camera at the back door until a guard arrived to investigate. “How can I help you, miss?” the guard asked. Rae said nothing, swaying and nodding in time with a song apparently playing on her headphones. The guard waved, trying to get her attention. She continued to ignore him. The guard stepped closer and leaned toward her, shouting. “Miss!”

“Oh,” Rae said smiling and removing his cap. “I’m sorry for being so rude. Do you want to hear, too?” Without waiting for a response, she slid the headphones from her head, where she set his cap. “I’ll trade you.”

“Hey!” the guard protested. “Give that back.”

“Oh, at least give it a listen,” Rae said, setting her headphone in place on his head and pushing the play button on a device clipped to her belt for the first time.

The Siren’s sonic attack made the man reach for his ears and gasp helplessly before delivering him into the invader’s power.

Rae dialed a number on her cell phone and spoke as her victim stared dumbly. “I’m in, boss,” she said and hung up. “Come, handsome.” The entranced guard followed the brunette into the store.

High above them, on the roof, Mimi was grinning at the guard she watched from her concealed position. She licked her lips and dialed her own cell phone. “I have the target in sight,” she said. “Call me back in about one minute.”

Moving to a spot where the hapless guard would notice her was simplicity itself. Once she knew he had seen her, she stumbled.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” the guard asked, catching her. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” Mimi said, looking up and favoring him with a smile.

“What? ”

The ringing in Mimi’s purse stopped the conversation. “Just a minute,” she said. She activated the phone, listened for a moment, and held the phone out to the guard. “It’s for you.”

“What?” the bewildered guard asked again. He listened to the phone and Mimi watched his eyes widen.

The Siren’s stunning note put the gullible guard in Mimi’s power in a matter of seconds. “You’d better bring me in,” she invited, putting her phone away and an arm around her captive’s waist.

When the Siren and Doe drove past the store, they realized the guard Doe would have to deal with was female.

“My stunning note is useless against women,” the Siren lamented.

“Leave her to me,” the redheaded henchwoman said confidently.

Moments later, the leggy lass stepped to the sidewalk wearing her high-cut Scottish kilt and carrying her bagpipes. She glanced along the deserted street and began to play as she approached the jewelry shop. She stopped in front of the store and continued playing. After a few tunes, the female guard emerged from the store.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the guard apologized, “I’m going to have to ask you to move along before we start getting complaints.” Doe ignored her and removed her hat with a flourish as she finished piping the song the guard had interrupted. “Did you hear me, miss? You have to go.” The guard stepped forward and placed a hand on Doe’s shoulder. Doe began to play another tune. The guard extended her free arm and pointed down the street before shouting. “Get out of here! Now!”

Doe stopped playing and pointed her bagpipes at the female guard. “Hear this then, my bonnie lass,” the redhead said and prepared to blow a stunning note on her sonic weapon.

“Hey! What are you doing? I told you–”

The note that hit the guard silenced her instantly and made her quiver for a few seconds before she collapsed helplessly.

Seconds later, the Siren pulled the car up outside the shop as Doe dragged her victim inside. “Have your boy toys bind Doe’s victim,” the terrible trio’s mythological mistress ordered. “Now, we’ll just help ourselves to all of the jewels. This job will be a clean sweep,” the Siren said with a delighted laugh.

“I had my guy take care of the alarm,” Mimi reported with a laugh. “Every gem in this place will soon be ours.”

“As soon as they’ve finished with the girl, my guy will keep watch,” Rae reported.

They had just begun to pack up their loot when the guard Rae had stationed on watch approached them. “The Batmobile just pulled up outside. I thought you’d want to know.”

‘Could Batwoman and Flamebird have found the Batmobile?’ the Siren mused. She turned her attention to the two male guards. “Are the three of you the only guards on duty?” the Siren asked.

“The other two guys should be getting back with the doughnuts any minute now,” one guard answered.

“Batman and Robin are coming this way,” the lookout said.

“I thought we took care of them,” Doe said.

“We did,” the Siren agreed.

“Then, how are they showing up?” Mimi asked.

“I don’t know. The impossible has happened. Robin and Batman survived my trap.”

“What will we do?” Rae asked.

The Siren laughed. “I’ll put those doting dolts under my spell once again and command them to have a little ‘fun’ with Doe’s lady friend on the floor over there. Twenty-four hours after we release tapes of the poor woman’s encounter to the media, the Dynamic Duo will be irreparably disdained all over Gotham City. Shortly thereafter, they won’t be able to show their masks anywhere in the world!”

“Another of your mad schemes, Siren?” Batman asked.

“It won’t work any better than your plans to steal the Jovian Jewels!” Robin said.

“We’ll see about that, Robin,” the Siren said and unleashed her stunning sonic note.

The Dynamic Duo stood, shaking their heads.

“It won’t work, Siren,” Batman declared.

“What sorcery is this?” the Siren asked.

“Our utility belt radios are broadcasting a protective pulse in conjunction with the Batsynchronizer,” Robin revealed. “We were able to analyze the tones you used to enchant the crowd at Chimes Square and devise a means of self protection more comprehensive than the Batearplugs!”

“Well, you haven’t won yet!” the Siren said. She unleashed her villainous voice again as the guards with the doughnuts arrived. “You both may be immune to my hypnotic note, but the guards are not. I bet you’ll try to keep from hurting them too badly, because they’re innocent dupes. Guards, destroy the Dynamic Duo!”

Four uniformed men raced toward the heroes and attacked. Both ducked under the leading blow and took the second man, flinging him harmlessly aside. Their leading attackers spun around and were sent to the floor, sprawling harmlessly. Batman and Robin stared at one another as their first victims got up and came at them again. This time, Batman and Robin could not avoid trading blows with their assailants.

Doe, Rae, Mimi, and the Siren looked on from their protected position behind the store’s counter. “Lets get what we came for and get out of here!” the Siren said.

“Don’t you think our dupes can take them?” Mimi asked.

Two of the ‘dupes’ sagged to the floor. “I’m starting to have my doubts,” Doe said. “We could use the woman guard. We can threaten her and force Batman and Robin to surrender.”

“What would you have me do with the Dynamic Duo once I have them? They’ve escaped two of my tricky traps recently.”

“What about something straightforward, like tossing them off the roof?” Rae asked.

“Robin and Batman deserve a more interesting end than that, Rae,” the Siren replied. “I’ll devise something suitable in time.”

The defeated guards were regaining their feet as Batman and Robin dispatched their partners. The heroes turned to shake hands and found themselves in a second round of combat.

The criminal quartet had gathered the Jovian Jewels and each also retrieved a handful of additional stones before retreating through the front door.

“They’re getting away, Batman!” Robin cried as his opponent flew backwards. Batman turned toward the fleeing criminals and let the back of his fist impact his opponent, taking him out.

“Now, it’s your turn, Siren!” Batman said. As the Dynamic Duo raced in pursuit, the floor was suddenly littered with gems that rolled beneath the crimefighters’ feet and sent them sprawling.

“To the Batmobile!” Robin enthused.

“Hold on, chum. My plan worked perfectly. Before we go after those crooks, we’ll see to their victims here.”

“Gosh, Batman. When you put it like that, I wonder about my priorities.”

“A crimefighter’s first duty is to the general public. We protect them from crime, but have occasion to render aid directly.”

“Like now.”

The Caped Crusader nodded and moved toward the bound guard.

Meanwhile, uninvited visitors were going about business of their own in the Siren’s hideout.

“You were right, Minstrel,” Octavia said. ”They didn’t find the safe.”

The melodic fiend laughed. “They never suspected the safe was here.” He removed the two items from the safe, put one in his pocket, and displayed the other for Octavia. It was a key on a necklace chain.

“What is that?” she asked.

“The key to your treasure trove, Octavia.”

She reached for the key and examined it. “It looks like a safe deposit box key.”

“Precisely, my dear.”

“You’re hiding our stolen jewels at a bank?”

“The Gotham National Bank, with multimillionaire Bruce Wayne as the Chairman of the Board of Directors and the most sophisticated security system in town, guards your treasures.”

“I didn’t know you held Bruce Wayne in such high regard.”

“He is a philanthropic fool. Something possessed him six years ago to make the Joker the manager of the bank’s main branch. Since then, they have been positively obsessed with security. I could not imagine a safer place to hide your jewel collection and I’d like you to wear the key to our wealth around your neck.” He smiled, stepped toward her, put the key in place, and kissed her.

“Hmm,” Octavia said. An impish light sparkled in her eyes as she regarded him after the kiss broke. ”Is there something else you’d like me to wear for you?”

“You ask the most fascinating questions,” he said, smiling down at her, as she stood encircled in his strong arms. “Business first, though.” The Minstrel released her and led her to one of the closets and opened it. “I think one of these will fit you perfectly,” he said.

“Why do you need me to wear one of those?” she asked.

“You have a very important role to play in my plans for our traitorous Songbirds. I’ll just step out here while you make yourself resplendent.” As he waited, the Minstrel took up his lute and began to play absently. He sang:

“That old black magic has me in its spell
That old black magic that you weave so well
Those icy fingers up and down my spine
The same old witchcraft when your eyes meet mine.
The same old tingle that I feel inside
And then that elevator starts its ride
Round and round I go
Down and down I go
Like a leaf caught in the tide
I should stay away. What can I do?
I hear your name. Then I’m aflame.
A flame with such a burnin’ desire
That only a kiss can put out the fire.
For you’re the lover I have waited for
The mate that fate had me created for.
And every time your lips meet mine.
Baby, down and down I go
Round and round I go
In a spin. Lovin’ the spin in
Under that old black magic called love.”

“I’m delighted to hear it,” Octavia said, emerging and spinning around for his inspection. She had arrived at their old hideout wearing a high cut, red dress with spaghetti straps and a matching silk wrap, but had changed into a black turtleneck and a Scottish kilt, which fell only to mid thigh. Polished black shoes, nylons, and a plumed hat completed the pretty picture.

“You look lovely,” he complimented.

“It’s hardly me. You have to promise to help me out of it later.”

He laughed. “That will be a pleasure. The outfit is, of course, a disguise.”

Suddenly, Octavia understood completely and laughed, collapsing helplessly into a comfy chair. “We’re framing Siren’s girls. How perfect! That will teach them to betray you.”

“Precisely,” he said, grinning wolfishly and reaching out to help her to her feet. They finished laughing abruptly when an alarm went off, triggering a flashing light on a panel the Minstrel had activated immediately upon entering his old lair. “Someone’s coming.”

“It’s probably Siren. Oh, boy, do we have a surprise for her!”

“When I’ve finished, she won’t know what hit her. Now, quickly, get out of sight. They’ll be here any second. Oh, and take these.” He handed to her a pair of sunglasses, a pair of earplugs, and another device as she stepped to a balcony from which she could monitor events transpiring inside.

On his way to the rotating chair in which he had decided to be discovered, he activated a switch on the device in his pocket. He spun the chair to face the entrance as he heard the newcomers arrive.

“Siren, ladies. It’s lovely to see you all again. Welcome to my humble abode.”

“Minstrel, what are you doing here?” the Siren incredulously asked as the villainess sank into the leather couch he gestured toward. The Siren’s nymphs seated themselves next to their current leader and Doe set her bagpipes on the floor within easy reach.

“I might ask you the same question, Siren. Doe, Rae, and Mimi are in my employ, but you–”

The Siren frowned at her minions. “You say the girls are in your employ?”

“Absolutely. Let’s return to my question. What are you doing here at the Songbirds’ Nest?”

“I’m laying low. I’ve just learned my plan to eliminate Robin and Batman didn’t work.”

“Bad luck there. I’ve often toyed with the idea of shaking off the Dynamic Duo’s heads myself.” the Minstrel said affably. He sighed. “Someday. I’m digressing though. You may use my hideout as long as I get a small percentage of the profit from jobs you pull while using my place as a base of operations.”

“What kind of percentage are you talking about?”

“I have a number in mind. What do you think would be fair?”

“I’ll bet the number I have in mind is smaller than yours,” the Siren warned.

“Probably. I’m open to negotiations.”

“Very well,” the Siren said. Then she sounded one of her stunning notes and laughing. “How about zero? Oh, you’ll also stay out of our way completely.” She seemed to think for a moment. “Are you working on anything of which it will be worth my taking a percentage?

Octavia could not believe what she was seeing.

‘Minstrel was not as stupid as his actions so far seemed. He would not have allowed himself to be hypnotized by the Siren’s spell so easily. Would he?’

She began considering means of retrieving the situation.

“As a matter of fact, Siren,” the Minstrel went on, “I’m working on a project that will bring Gotham City to its knees and make my partner or partners and I quite rich.”

“I should cut myself in for a piece of that action. What do you girls think would be a reasonable percentage?”

With narrowed eyes, Octavia examined the room again. The newcomers seemed to be unarmed aside from the Siren’s voice. Then the Minstrel’s beautiful backup remembered Doe’s bagpipes. The redhead had set them on the floor beside her at the end of the couch. Octavia was only a few short steps away.

The redheaded rogue was answering her mistress’ question. “Ninety is not unprecedented.”

Octavia’s eyebrows shot up like rockets.

“That’s right,” Rae agreed. “Chandell’s evil twin brother, Harry, demanded ninety percent of everything we stole for that conniving keyboardist before the lout reformed.”

“Blackmailing brother Harry had Chandell in his power, but no idea how to make good use of such an asset. He had no vision whatsoever. His idea of a big crime was shooting more than one person with a machine gun,” the Minstrel said. “Now, ninety percent seems high to me. Why did you work for Chandell knowing the vast majority of your ill gotten gains would be immediately forfeit?”

“Listen, Minstrel,” Mimi said. “We slaved for Chandell. We were loyal. We gave him the best years of our criminal lives and look where it got us.”

“Yeah,” Rae agreed. “When we finally got free, we looked around for a true criminal genius for whom to work and found you in prison. We thought we were all set when you got out.”

“Since being released, however, you haven’t committed a single crime . . . at least not one you’ve let us in on!” Doe accused.

“There hasn’t been any other kind of action for any of us, either,” Rae complained. “We’ve felt neglected and don’t appreciate it at all.”

Outside, Octavia smirked. ‘Why doesn’t he remind them about the money we’ve wasted keeping them on the payroll?” she asked herself silently.

“Then you left the country,” Mimi said. “You announced the trip out of the blue and gave us no idea when or even if you planned to return. We’ve been languishing here on the home front ever since.”

“Dear Doe; Ravishing Rae; Marvelous Mimi, when the time is right, my associates and I will be making so much money that a measly single-digit percentage will be enough of a fortune to enable everyone to live the rest of their lives in opulent luxury.”

“In that case,” the Siren said, “I think my ninety percent is more than fair.”

“I think zero percent would be more appropriate,” the Minstrel suggested.

“How dare you!” the Siren demanded. “You’re mine to command! When I say jump, you should be asking ‘how high?’ You will obey me and be delighted to have done so, until I issue another command for which you should eagerly be waiting.”

The Minstrel shook his head and laughed. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Siren. You don’t imagine I was enough of a fool to give you power over me when I designed your new voice box, do you? You might never have paid me for restoring your unique power over men. I think what you paid to regain the ability to make them do whatever you want at any time was quite a bargain. You see, I am a criminal genius and risking becoming your tool would have ruined my reputation, to say nothing of my free will.”

The Siren was crestfallen and furious at the same time. “Then my note did not bespell you?”

The Minstrel went on laughing for a long while “No. It did not.”

“Then why did you play out this little charade?!” the Siren demanded.

“I needed to determine where these Songbirds fealty lie.”

“Look, Minstrel, if you’re about to make a fortune, we’re with you, “ Doe said.

“Oh, my succulent scoundrel, I’m sure you would be, but your confirming my assessment even now.”

“Whichever of you we choose to work for,” Rae protested, “we’ll stick with.”

“To the end,” Mimi added. Then she moved to a position beside him and suggested, “Why don’t you tell us more about your plans?”

“If you insist,” he said affably. “I plan to commit a robbery for which I’ll see the three of you are blamed. Also, having revealed this to you, I plan to see to it that none of you interfere with my plans. Octavia!” In one smooth motion, the Minstrel slipped on his sunglasses and fitted the earplugs. Meanwhile, his similarly protected confederate stepped into view, holding a sparkling flare she held far from her body and moved in a circular fashion. Blinding flashes and shrill sounds emanated from Octavia’s device, which quickly incapacitated the Siren, Doe, Rae, and Mimi.

“Did they get the jewels?” Octavia asked, switching off the device and moving to the Minstrel’s side.

“I’m about to find out. Get Doe’s bagpipes.”

“You need them for the frame up?”

“Yes. They are, in fact, a well-disguised sonic weapon, which I understand can be devastating at short range.”

“I don’t play the bagpipes.”

“You won’t have to. Just point it at your intended victim and blow. Feel free to practice on your rivals for my affection until you get the hang of it.”

“Didn’t your countermeasures deal with them already?” Octavia said darkly.

“Yes, but the guards we’ll have to subdue will hardly be helpless.”

“And you so detest violence,” Octavia observed with an ironic smile.

“Exactly.” The Minstrel located the Siren’s silver handbag, opened it and looked inside. “Ah-ha! Oh, leave Siren alone. She’s coming with us.”

“Recruiting?” Octavia accused.

“Rescuing from capture by the police or Batman. She suggested that enemy of enterprise was after her.”

“She attacked you!” Octavia protested.

“I knew she would attack me and made sure her attack would fail. I won’t let a fellow supervillain languish when I have the power to prevent it,” he said. He dumped out the Siren’s purse, spilling the Jovian Jewels onto a coffee table. He began to examine them one by one.

Octavia took his advice and practiced with the weapon while the Minstrel examined the take from the Siren’s robbery. She grinned evilly as, in turn, she caused Doe, Rae and Mimi to twitch in agony, even in their semi-conscious state.

Satisfied, Octavia turned. “Did she take anything we can use in your plans?”

“No,” the Minstrel said. “I think I’ll leave this one as a memento, though.”

“Why?”

“Look,” he answered, handing her the emerald.

Octavia took the emerald and held it up to the light. It shimmered nicely, but in its heart she spotted the attribute that had made her mentor decide to leave it behind. ”It’s hollow.”

“Very good, Octavia. I’m willing to bet Batman has hidden one of his famous homing transmitters in the heart of that ersatz emerald and planted it among the jewels.”

“So, Batman is tracking the thieves as we speak. Shouldn’t we be going?”

“With all deliberate speed.” The Siren was beginning to recover as the perfidious pair gathered most of the jewels. The Minstrel then regarded the incapacitated beauties and strummed his lute, singing:

“Good night, ladies. Good night, ladies.
Good night, ladies. We’re going to leave you now.”

Then he picked up the Siren and followed Octavia from the hideout. Together, they deposited the Siren in the back seat of their car and the Minstrel slid into the passenger seat. Octavia moved around the vehicle, decorously positioned herself behind the wheel, and started the engine. “We got out of there just in time,” she said, pointing as they rounded the corner. The Batmobile was parked at the side of the road and the Dynamic Duo were Batclimbing the wall toward the compromised hideout.

“Those Songbirds originally portrayed phantoms, but I don’t think they’ll be able to disappear fast enough to escape Batman,” Octavia said, laughing.

“You’re gloating, my dear. It’s most unbecoming.”

Octavia favored the Minstrel with a grin.

Behind them, the Siren moaned. “What happened? Where am I?”

“We’ve rescued you from capture by Batman and Robin,” the Minstrel answered.

“What about the girls?”

“Alas, we had to leave them behind. I could only carry one of you. I trust you approve of my choice.”

The Siren was silent for a moment. “I suppose I should thank you.”

“No problem. Where can we drop you off?”

“Anywhere along the Amusement Mile. I assume I’ll need to recruit a new gang.” Then she seemed to remember something. “Hey! What about the Jovian Jewels?”

“They are now mere sauce in which District Attorney Harvey Dent will cook the traitorous trio’s collective goose.”

“Are you telling me Batman has my jewels?!” the Siren demanded.

“I found a homing transmitter amongst them. Who knows what other measures Batman may have used to protect them?”

“Here we are,” Octavia announced, pulling to the curb.

As the Siren stepped to the sidewalk, the Minstrel rolled down the front passenger window. “Siren, now that you realize I’ll never let you control me with your voice, I want you to understand, I will turn off your voice box forever if you ever attack me with it again.”

The Minstrel let the threat hang in the air. “Let’s go, Octavia.”

“Good luck,” the Siren said once the car had pulled away. Then she shrugged. She had the bulk of the proceeds of her earlier robberies to see her through until she could get reorganized. She was already scheming as she merged with the crowd on the sidewalk.

The arrival of the pretty, purple paragon of virtue in the vicinity of the Songbird’s Nest had been unobserved by everyone. As she had slowed, she spotted a woman in a high-cut, Scottish kilt slip into a getaway car. Without stopping, Batgirl followed into traffic, fell behind the car, and kept her quarry in sight as she followed at a discreet distance. Her first decision came when the Siren stepped from the car in front of Newton Fairgrounds. Batgirl stuck with the car as the Siren slipped away, assuming the henchwomen would take her closer to the scene of the crime where the woman in charge would presently rejoin them.

They proceeded to the Gotham City Museum, where the recently renovated planetarium was a popular attraction. Batgirl was surprised when a lone woman and an older man in what looked like a troubadour’s costume emerged from the car and made their way into the museum. Batgirl waited a couple of minutes to see if the Siren or any other Songbirds appeared. Finally, she decided she could wait no longer.

Inside, Batgirl found the victims of sonic bagpipe attacks beginning to recover and learned the most recent display in the museum of possible interest to criminals was a jewel-inlaid depiction of the night sky. Quickly and quietly, the Angelic Avenger of Gotham approached its location.

“Too bad we didn’t have time to make a proper copy of this piece,” Octavia lamented.

“Well, in order to arrange for our former colleagues to take credit for this crime, it must obviously have been committed.”

“I’d almost forgotten we’re doing our bit for law and order,” Octavia said with a laugh.

“Indeed. The Midnight Star Sapphire will complement the other illicit jewels in your collection quite nicely.”

“The galaxy of diamonds that go with it will also help entice Marsha to part with the diamond you need to shake up Gotham City.”

“Precisely, my precious. Shall we go?”

“You’ll both be going straight to jail!” Batgirl said. “I would strongly advise you to replace those jewels and surrender immediately!”

“Batgirl!” Octavia said, backing toward a window and its handy fire escape.

“Batgirl?” the Minstrel repeated incredulously. “I did not anticipate your arrival. Where did you come from?”

“Well, well. Octavia and her boyfriend, the Minstrel, I presume.” Batgirl said, spreading her legs to shoulder width and resting her gloved hands on her shapely hips. “This is a surprise. For your information, the authorities have had their eye on your gang for some time and now I have ascertained their leader’s identity. I followed you from the Songbirds’ Nest, and I’m putting a stop to your little crime wave right here!”

The Minstrel had retreated to Octavia’s position, within one step of the window. “If I were you, Batgirl, I would stand perfectly still.” As he spoke, the melodic fiend discreetly fingered a small control in his pocket and pushed a button.

“What are you talking about, Minstrel?” the heroine demanded. “I’ve heard you’re not a fighter.”

“Oh, I’ll fight if I must, my dear,” the Minstrel said politely, “not with my body, however, but with my mind.”

“What do you mean?” Batgirl found the Minstrel’s demeanor a bit confusing, unlike any other villain’s she had ever faced before.

The Minstrel pulled out the control box. “This device has reactivated the state-of-the-art security system, which had protected this priceless piece of art. My research revealed it was installed shortly after the Joker tried to squash Batman and Robin with the eight-ton meteorite on display in the room with the rotating solar system. Anyway, the security system employs a complicated network of invisible laser beams.

“Normally, breaking the beams would just trigger an alarm, but I’ve increased their power multifold. Now they’re powerful enough to slice you to ribbons. Fortunately, none of the beams appear to be in contact with you at the moment, but I cannot predict what would happen if you were to move. Watch.” The Minstrel threw the control toward Batgirl. The lasers instantly reduced it to a lump of melted plastic and smoking wires.

“I would have hated for you to have thought I was bluffing about the lasers. The results of such a mistake would have been truly tragic.”

“Very clever, Minstrel,” Batgirl said, vainly looking around her for the invisible beams while keeping her feet rooted to the floor.

“Thank you, Batgirl. You’ll be quite safe where you are for some time. If you don’t escape, I’m sure you’ll be released in a few hours when the museum opens.”

“What!?” Batgirl said incredulously. She couldn’t have been more surprised if the Minstrel had suddenly surrendered. “You mean, you aren’t trying to kill me?”

“I am many things, Batgirl,” he explained, “some not so good . . . but I am, above all else, a gentleman. If you persist in pestering me, I may be forced, someday – regrettably – to take stronger measures. For now, however, I offer mercy to a brave and beautiful foe. I’m sure my aide and I will be long gone by the time you’re free from this room. I wish you well. Goodbye. Come, Octavia.” He removed his hat and bowed extravagantly, before stepping to the fire escape and descending from Batgirl’s view with his amorous assistant in his wake.

Batgirl was stunned. She had heard several women comment how handsome and charming the Minstrel had been when he was on television – and what a nice voice he had, too. At the time she had dismissed their remarks as foolish, but now she had to admit, even though he was quite a bit older than Batgirl, that he was very good looking and debonair.

Batgirl shook her head violently. ‘What am I thinking?! I’m an agent of the law. He’s a lawbreaker. That’s all there is to it!’ Only half-convinced, she let out a deep breath and began to examine her surroundings more closely.

“You’re brilliant, Minstrel,“ Octavia said, laughing delightedly as she descended. “We’ve stolen the Midnight Star Sapphire with its accompanying Galaxy of diamonds from this museum, as well as the Jovian Jewels from the Siren. The best part, though, is we’ve pinned both crimes on Doe, Rae, and Mimi!”

“We won’t be able to do that now, though.”

“Because of Batgirl?” Octavia asked.

“I’m afraid so,” the Minstrel said. Then, he shrugged. “They really did steal the Jovian Jewels, and their arrest will stand up. Anyway, there was always an issue of timing District Attorney Dent would have had to contend with, since this crime took place after Batman arrested its alleged perpetrators. We must certainly abandon the Songbird’s Nest now, but that was part of the plan all along.” His good cheer had almost returned until he helped Octavia from the ladder. “What is it?” She was frowning.

“I’m an idiot,” she fumed, turning her head from his concerned gaze.

“What?”

“I left the bagpipes. I didn’t think about the frame being blown, and my fingerprints may be on them.”

“Not to worry, my dear. Your driving gloves will have kept such commonplace clues from giving you away.”

“I realize that, but I didn’t put them on until we were in the car. If my prints are found on the bagpipes, the anonymity you suggested I maintain until Operation High C’s is complete will be squandered.”

“We’re nearly ready to put my masterplan into motion, Octavia. I have a very strong alibi in mind for us tonight that will easily withstand Batgirl’s testimony. You needn’t be worried.”

Octavia’s eyes narrowed. “Listen. Why don’t I go get the bagpipes while you put the goods away and drive around to pick me up? It won’t take long and I hate the thought of just leaving behind evidence that might be used against us. Not, of course, that anyone ever will catch us, mind you.”

“Well, better safe than sorry.” The Minstrel said, surrendering with a gallant smile. “Even I was captured . . . once.” The Minstrel began to climb the ladder. “I’ll take care of it.”

“No!” Octavia put a restraining hand on the Minstrel’s shoulder. “I insist! I caused the problem, and I will fix it.”

“I won’t change your mind about this, will I?” he asked. This vain protest would be his last and the grin with which he regarded her told her so.

“Not in the time you have available, my love. Get going.” The Minstrel stepped aside and Octavia mounted the ladder again.

“Octavia,” the Minstrel said, bringing her ascent to a halt. “You’re going to make an exceptional arch criminal.”

“You say the sweetest things,” she said over her shoulder, before resuming her climb with a delighted giggle.

The Minstrel looked after her until she reached the window.

From the landing, Octavia paused to watch Batgirl work at finding a means of escape. Batgirl’s first step had been to lean tentatively forward, back, and to both sides. Safely doing so enabled Batgirl to ease an item from her utility belt. Her tool was a metal, telescoping pointer she employed the way a blind man used a cane. As she moved the pointer, its tip sparked when it encountered a deadly laser beam, thus revealing a beam’s position.

Octavia quietly slipped through the window. “Very good, Batgirl. I think you really would have eventually found your way out of there.”

Batgirl whirled toward the new voice without thinking. Then she froze, as she realized how lucky she had been to stay in one piece. “What are you doing back here, Octavia?”

The melodic moll smiled at the Bat Beauty. She was surprised when Batgirl resumed speaking. “Wait! Let me guess. It’s apparently true that criminals always return to the scene of the crime. I’ll have to advise Chief O’Hara to station officers at all crime scenes to apprehend the perpetrators upon their return.”

“You’ve got a smart mouth, Batgirl!” Octavia responded. “I’ve returned here to attend to some . . . unfinished business.” She pulled an object the size of a thick novel from her handbag and knelt to set it on the floor. The object was a hinged wooden box.

“What is that?”

“Minstrel is far too gallant to do away with a female foe,” Octavia explained, turning her head to face the pretty prisoner.

“So, you’ve taken it upon yourself to compensate for Minstrel’s nobility?”

“Precisely. Had Batman and Robin burst in on us instead of you, Minstrel would not have hesitated to eliminate them.” Octavia’s voice turned hard, accusatory. “Besides, I saw the way he looked at you . . . and the way you looked at him!”

“You’re out of your mind!” Batgirl blurted.

Octavia smiled thinly. “I think you doth protest too much.” Octavia continued sweetly, “Anyway, to show there’s no hard feelings, I’m going to leave this little music box playing for you. I’m sure you’ll find it quite soothing.”

“What does the music box play?”

“The last sounds you’ll ever hear, Batgirl. It’s a lullaby imbued with hypnotic tones that will put you to sleep. You’ll try desperately to stay awake, to prevent your body from being diced to driblets by those lethal lasers!”

“I think you’ll be disappointed. I’ll resist the effects of your little box!”

“Of course you will,” Octavia said. She laughed and then explained, “The effects of the box won’t be immediate. My real goal is to have your muscles relax and impair your balance. When that happens, you’ll wobble and maybe even topple into the lasers as you fight the hypnotically- induced drowsiness. Make no mistake. The slightest touch will cut into you more deeply than the sharpest knife. I’d rate your chances of survival as slim at best.”

“I’ll survive, Octavia. Count on it! As soon as I get out of this, I’ll get you. You’d be smarter to let me go now. Besides, what will Minstrel say when he learns you tried to kill me?”

She sighed. “We’ll fight about it. Since there won’t be any way to bring you back, I’ll win. I’m sure I can make him see the value of your death. Then, we’ll make up.” The musical minion laughed again.

Batgirl couldn't believe it. “You’re jealous!”

“Hardly!” Octavia sniffed. “Minstrel and I have just returned from a delightful vacation in Paris. Minstrel is mine and nobody will ever take him from me.” She paused. “On the other hand, I see no reason to pass up an opportunity to eliminate potential competition.”

“That’s very ruthless, Octavia.”

The Minstrel’s luscious lieutenant grinned. “All’s fair in love and war, Batgirl. I know you are a tenacious enemy. Another reason for doing away with you is quite practical as well. Without you as an eyewitness, I can frame the lady Songbirds not only for the theft of the Midnight Star Sapphire and the Galaxy of diamonds, but for your murder as well!”

“You’ll fail, Octavia. When I get out of this, I’ll come after you. When I catch you, I will see to it that Doe, Rae, and Mimi’s cells surround yours in prison.”

“You are so petty, Batgirl. I know you’ve just made an empty threat, because, in a little while, you won’t be around any more.” Octavia laughed.

“No, Octavia. It’s a promise, and I always keep my word.” Batgirl’s steady voice and intense gaze made Octavia stop laughing.

Batgirl’s only change of expression was a slight smile. She had managed to prick the marvelous-looking moll’s confidence. If she could keep their conversation going, Batgirl wondered if she could scare Octavia into abandoning her murderous plan. “You’re looking at attempted murder, not to mention armed robbery. After the D.A. is done with you, you won’t get out until you’re an old lady.”

After a brief hesitation, however, Octavia concluded their encounter. “In that case, Batgirl, let our contest begin, and may the best woman win. Thank you for reminding me about my weapon.” She picked up the bagpipes and said, “I know Minstrel was smitten with you, because he forgot to leave you with a song. I, however, won’t.” She opened the box, straightened and left without another word as the lethal lullaby began to echo eerily.

Batgirl realized she would be long dead before a guard would arrive to turn off the security system. Escape from the cleverly constructed cage had just become mandatory.

Echoes of the melodious moll’s footsteps down the ladder had just died when Batgirl yawned. Horror gripped her heart.

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