Batgirl's Intrigue

Barbara Gordon was about to leave her job at the Gotham City Public Library when she was startled by the appearance of one particular patron.

He wore a suit of brown leather over a yellow tie and white shirt. He reached up with a gloved hand to retract the reading lamp extending from the band of his fedora and gather the books in front of him. He carried them to Barbara's desk. "I'd like to check these out, please," the strangely attired man said.

"I'll need to see your library card," Barbara said. She reached for the card he presented and considered her voice, which she hoped had not quavered as much as she thought it had. She took a deep breath and pulled herself together as she checked the books out for him.

"Thank you," he said, looking over her handiwork through his glasses as he gathered the books.

Barbara nodded as he turned from the desk. She tried to smile casually as excitement welled up within her. The man's appearance had piqued her suspicion, but the voice had clinched her belief. The strangely dressed library patron was none other than the arch criminal, The Bookworm!

Barbara hurried home and dialed Police Headquarters. A moment later, she was speaking to her father, Police Commissioner James Gordon. “Didn’t you tell me recently the Bookworm had been taken into custody?” she asked.

“Yes. I believe so.”

"Well, I saw him this afternoon at work. He didn't do anything illegal, but I can't help wondering if he isn't up to something."

"Are you sure it was him?"

"His clothes reminded me of old book bindings. But, I didn't notice if he used the radio equipment hidden in his glasses.”

"I shudder to consider what may be going through his mind, Barbara. I'll alert the Dynamic Duo at once. Hold on." The Commissioner turned from the phone and addressed Chief O'Hara. "Get on the red phone, Chief. Barbara has just spotted the Bookworm."

"The Bookworm!" O'Hara said lifting the cover from the Batphone. "Why, that frustrated novelist who plots a crime like a literary masterpiece. We'll need Batman's help to handle him." O'Hara handed the receiver to his superior.

At stately Wayne Manor, faithful butler Alfred hurried to respond to the Batphone in millionaire Bruce Wayne's study. "I'm afraid he's involved in a case, sir. And Robin with him."

"Oh dear," Commissioner Gordon moaned. "If they should return, please let them know the Bookworm may be back. My daughter, Barbara, spotted him at the public library not half an hour ago."

"If I may make a suggestion, sir. If you were to light the BatSignal, it wouldn't attract either Batman or Robin, but might get the attention of their colleague, Batgirl."

"Batgirl! Good thinking." The Commissioner hung up and turned to O'Hara. "Race to the roof, Chief. Light the BatSignal. Batman and Robin are on a case. We need Batgirl."

"Yes, sir!"

"Did I hear someone say Batgirl?" Barbara Gordon said over the other line.

"Indeed I did, Barbara. Batman and Robin are not available. But, with any luck the BatSignal will bring Batgirl to our assistance even faster than her e-mail."

"I'm sure that will work, Daddy. I'd better let you go." She rang off and walked to her bedroom where she activated the spinning wall and began her tantalizing transformation. As she changed, she spoke to her pet bird. "The reason I'm so sure, Charlie, is that I'm on my way already"

As they waited for Batgirl to Batclimb to the roof, O'Hara looked over the city and smiled as he thought aloud. "We're lucky to have the Terrific Trio, sir."

"Yes we are, Chief. Batgirl has proven herself a valued ally." Barbara smiled in the darkness waiting for the right moment to reveal her presence. "And each night I rest easier knowing she and the Dynamic Duo are patrolling our streets and guarding our citizens against the likes of--"

"The Bookworm, sir?" O'Hara said after a moment.

"Yes, Chief. God bless Batman, wherever he is."

Unknown to any of them, Batman and Robin had been checking up on their old enemy, Dr. Tito Daka. At that moment, they were being waylaid by a sextet of the evil doctor’s recently recruited shapely geisha girls, who unexpectedly attacked with a cloud of hot mustard gas.

Later, our heroes revived to find themselves lashed to a pair of chop sticks the size of young trees. These had been plunged into oversized bowls of chow mien noodles into which sauce dripped from overhead nozzles. Batman alertly noticed the droplets falling around him smelled like soy sauce. Curious, he sniffed and realized sweet and sour sauce had been selected for Robin. Daka’s lethal lovelies explained the purpose of Batman and Robin's tasty torture. Their dead weight would slowly entomb the Dynamic Duo as the noodles were slowly transformed into flavored mush. Before leaving, each geisha bowed deeply.

"I saw your signal, Commissioner," Batgirl said stepping into the light.

“Thank heavens you're here, Batgirl. My daughter, Barbara, spotted the Bookworm at the public library today. He seems to have escaped custody. Of course, we aren’t aware he has done anything illegal since getting out. But, I fear for Gotham City and thought you should know."

“Have you spoken to Warden Crichton?”

“He won’t be available until tomorrow and I want to talk this over with him personally.”

"A wise precaution, Commissioner. What was Bookworm doing at the library?"

Commissioner Gordon stared at her for a moment and glanced at his Police Chief. O'Hara shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't ask."

Batgirl, of course, remembered the title of each book Bookworm had checked out. They had all dealt with archeology and North African ancient history, but she was trying to help the police do their jobs better. "Don't worry, Commissioner. I'll speak to Barbara about it. Meanwhile, I suggest you go over the security arrangements for tomorrow's antiquarian book show. It may have nothing to do with Bookworm, but I think he'll have a hard time resisting the temptation to put in an appearance."

"Good thinking, Batgirl," O'Hara said before the Commissioner could compliment her. "I'll get right on it."

Meanwhile, miles away, Doctor Syun-Ichi Akasofu reached a difficult decision. The scope of The Penguin’s evil scheme was so vast that the scientist could no longer co-operate, no matter what the villain did to him or his beloved granddaughter.

To this point, Dr. Akasofu’s assistance to the criminal had bought him time. Penguin had allowed some light through Jenny’s goggles, so the immediate risk of blindness was gone. The Doctor was sure that any day now, someone would visit and discover their dire situation.

Jenny was being held prisoner in a makeshift plexiglass cell constructed by The Penguin’s three goons. Still dressed only in her speedo swimsuit, she was given precious little privacy. Dr. Akasofu was very proud of how she had held up under the strain.

“Mr. Penguin,” the doctor announced, “I refuse to help you any further! If your plan is put into operation, many innocent lives will be put at risk! I cannot allow that, no matter what threats you make!”

The Penguin turned towards the scientist. Calmly, he removed the cigarette holder from his mouth as he spoke. “Oh, but doctor, I don’t just make threats. I take action! Boys, you know what to do with our pretty young captive!”

The henchman identified as Newton by the white letters across his chest unlocked the door to Jenny’s transparent prison. Under normal circumstances, the young athlete might have had a fighting chance against the thug, but blinded by the opaque goggles, she was quickly brought under control by Newton and another hood called Hawking.

“Grandpa! Don’t give in, no matter what he does to me!” Jenny called as she was drug from the room by the two men, followed by a third fiend known as Albert.

Five, then ten minutes passed. Akasofu sat in silence as The Penguin waddled back and forth, softly quacking to himself. The doctor’s mind reeled as he imagined all sorts of terrible things being done to his granddaughter.

He tried to draw strength from Jenny’s bravery. She was right. He mustn’t give in, no matter what . . . but it was hard, very hard.

The Penguin leaned over the scientist. The smell of cigarette smoke was thick on his breath when he finally spoke. “You know, doctor, I think I know what part of the problem is. The goggles prevent you from seeing your granddaughter’s eyes. The eyes truly are windows to the soul, wouldn’t you agree?”

Dr. Akasofu resolved not to engage his captor in conversation, but before his decision was made manifest, a voice cried out from the next room, “We’re ready, Penguin!”

“Bring her in!” the super-villain bellowed.

The three goons struggled to bring something through the doorway. As they finally succeeded, the doctor was repulsed by what he saw.

The hoodlums had constructed a rectangular wooden frame, some seven feet wide. Newton and Hawking carried the opposite ends, while in the middle, Albert held Jenny in his arms. Her ankles were tied by sturdy ropes to one of the wide beams.

The frame was maneuvered into Jenny’s plexiglass prison. Then, the structure was turned on end. The Gotham State University student was now hanging upside-down!

Jenny’s short hair hung loosely, almost touching the floor. The goggles removed, she was still in her speedo. Her hands were tied securely behind her back. The ropes that constituted her bondage made a diamond pattern across her torso, framing her pert breasts perfectly. Her legs were held at slightly more than shoulder-width apart.

It was hard for the doctor to read his granddaughter’s expression, since she was hanging upside down. He could still detect the defiance in her eyes, though, as she shouted, “I’m OK, grandpa!”

“Oh, yes,” The Penguin agreed. “She’s fine for now . . . but how will she be in hours . . . or days? Any sudden movement of her neck or spinal column could cause serious injury or death. Already, her circulation is being effected. Blood flow to her extremities is slowly being cut off. Lack of movement will eventually cause blood to fill in her lungs. There’s a chance she will suffer a brain aneurysm.”

The doctor’s will to resist was already broken. It was one thing, in theory, to sacrifice a granddaughter to save unknown potential victims. It was quite another to look into her eyes as life ebbed out of them.

“All right,” Akasofu muttered. “You win. I’ll do what you want. Just get her down.”

“Wah, wah, wah!” quacked Penguin. “Of course, doctor!”

“Grandfather. No,” Jenny sobbed quietly.

The next day the student union at Gotham State University had been converted into a flea market where almost a hundred book dealers hawked their wares behind tables groaning beneath the weight of thousands of titles. Batgirl arrived early to try to minimize the crowd reaction to her presence.

She had to explain she was a patron, insist on paying for her ticket, and politely refuse a private preview of the show. "I'm really just here to browse," she told the man who intercepted her as she approached the ticket window. "Thank you, citizen."

She was among the first ten patrons admitted. The few autographs she signed before the doors opened didn't slow her down much. Inside, she moved to the center to the room and stood with hands on hips surveying the sales floor.

She had not seen Bookworm waiting to get in and concentrated on the main entrance while intermittently checking the tables in case he slipped past her surveillance or used a less conventional means of entry. The truth surprised her. She rotated to her right and spotted Bookworm in a back corner of the room seated behind a table with a woman whose red hair had been pulled back into a long ponytail. ‘He's been here the entire time!’

Batgirl looked at her map of book dealers’ locations and found the table Bookworm was seated behind. It belonged to an organization called the Red Headed League. Indeed, a pink banner with scarlet letters hung behind the table displaying the name of Bookworm’s organization. The curvy crimefightress walked to the table and waited behind the bowler-hatted man in a tweed suit standing beside an athletic looking brunette.

"I'm sorry," Bookworm was saying, "Neither of you qualify to be a part of my Red Headed League since you don't have red hair. I'm afraid that is the one membership requirement the league must strictly observe."

"Hey," the redhead beside Bookworm said, "Batgirl has red hair."

"Batgirl?" Bookworm inquired looking at his companion as the pair in front of him accepted their dismissal.

"One and the same, Bookworm," Batgirl said. "I'm here to take you back to jail were you belong."

“I am here to recruit students for my red headed league of researchers," the villain protested. “I have done nothing wrong.”

“You and I both know you were sent away recently over your connection to the fake Batgirl who appeared on the Allen Stevens show. Now, the only question is: are you coming quietly or not?”

“He’ll be staying right where he is,” the redhead beside Bookworm said.

“I don’t think so.”

“I disagree. And if you even try to lay a hand on him I swear I’ll--”

“I am a duly deputized agent of the law. And I am here to place Bookworm under arrest. If you want me to call campus security--“

“Ladies,” Bookworm interrupted diplomatically. “Please stop. I think I can settle this.”

“Then you are coming?”

“Not just now, Batgirl. If you will check your records you will see copious documentation of my enrollment and participation in Warden Crichton’s program of progressive penology. The Red Headed League is part of my rehabilitation. I'm putting my skills to positive use for society and get temporary parole as part of the bargain.”

"I see," Batgirl said letting a breath out slowly. “You won’t get away with hiding behind prison policy while breaking the law. Nothing in the world will protect you if you are up to your old tricks.”

"If the law assumes that, the law is a ass," Bookworm said, "Charles Dickens from Oliver Twist."

"You aren't going to give the chapter, page, and paragraph?"

"I could. But it doesn't seem to impress the students, Batgirl. As I said, I am here to recruit students for my red headed league of researchers."

"Just what are you researching?"

"Egyptology," Bookworm replied simply. “The Red Headed League has been engaged to compile a database of ancient Egyptian artifacts."

"Why?" Batgirl demanded.

"Our client has not shared his motives."

Alarm bells went off for Batgirl. Could the supposedly reformed King Tut be up to his old tricks? "Who is this client, Bookworm?"

"I'm sorry, Batgirl. I can only reveal that information to members of the league. I'm sure you'll understand. Now, if you'll move along I have more potential recruits to speak to."

"What would you say," Batgirl said slowly, "if I offered to join the Red Headed League?"

Bookworm reached for the reading lamp on his hat and let it sweep over Batgirl. "You are offering to join the Red Headed League and work on the research for our client no matter what?"

"That's right," Batgirl said. "As long as what you are doing is legal and above board, I'll help out and apologize for my suspicions."

"Very well," Bookworm said handing her a card. "We'll get started here tomorrow morning at eight o'clock."

"I'll be there," Batgirl promised. She had to sign several more autographs before she left.

Commissioner Gordon looked at the business card Bookworm had given Batgirl. "Bookworm has started a research firm?" he asked.

"I don't know yet. But I mean to find out," Batgirl said.

“Well, the Warden confirmed Bookworm’s story about participating in the program of progressive penology. We could all be jumping at shadows,” Commissioner Gordon said.

“In a pig’s eye!” O’Hara said. “We’re talking about The Bookworm!”

"Could the card he gave Batgirl be a clue?"

"It looks like a perfectly ordinary business card to me," Chief O'Hara offered unhelpfully.

"It does on the surface, Chief," Batgirl said encouragingly. "I looked at the card under a microscope in Gotham State University's forensic science lab. Professor Xavier is a friend. Anyway, the card had dirt on it."

"Dirt?" Gordon and O'Hara said simultaneously, looking at each other.

"Yes. I found that striking. Most business cards are clean or have an indiscernible film of paper and/or household dust on them. That makes the presence of dirt unusual."

"Sure and it is, Batgirl," Chief O'Hara said. "But what does it all mean?"

"I don't know yet, Chief. But I'll find out more when I investigate the headquarters of the Red Headed League tonight.

"I thought you were going to work there tomorrow," Commissioner Gordon said.

"I am. But if I wait the crooks will have time to get rid of any evidence that may be there. So I'm going to check it out tonight."

Commissioner Gordon ran a hand thoughtfully along the line of his jaw. “I seem to recall vague rumors about Bookworm setting something up in town,” he mused slowly. ”Could this Red Headed League be it?”

"Do you want a squad of men?" O'Hara asked?

"No, Chief. Bookworm’s Red Headed League has done nothing illegal that any of us are aware of. Your men will serve better patrolling the streets. I'll check out Bookworm on my own."

"Right you are, Batgirl. Whatever you say." Gordon leaned back in his chair as Batgirl left. As he turned to his police chief, he realized O’Hara had been watching her exit as closely as he had.

As Batgirl arrived at the Red Headed League's headquarters later that night, evil eyes focused upon her. "Bookworm to Baker Street Boys. Your target is approaching. Repeat. Your target is approaching."

"We see her, Bookworm. Are there any contingencies?" one concealed henchman replied.

"No, Doyle, proceed as planned."

"Don't worry, Bookworm. We'll get her."

"Arthur, ‘the best laid plans of mice and men go oft awry,’ Steinbeck tells us. Just do it the way we planned."

"Bookworm, will this take long? What exactly is happening?” the woman who had been with him at the book fair asked.

”The game's afoot, Irene. It's time to take our positions. In a moment we'll leap into action."

"Good,” she said sliding lazily from the sofa where she had decoratively reclined when Bookworm had taken his preliminary position earlier. “I want to get this over with."

"I'll be along in a moment," he murmured. She knew he was watching as she crossed the room. He paused before following her, keeping his eyes on the poetic sway of her lower body as she moved down the hall. He always watched her. She smiled impishly, posing for him until he joined her at their appointed position and slid an arm around her waist.

Meanwhile, Batgirl Batclimbed to the roof of the Red Headed League's headquarters. The skylight was unlatched and enabled Batgirl to descend to a desktop from which she gained the floor in a matter of seconds. She took the tiny Batlight from her utility belt and looked over the room. Her search was efficient yet professional, leaving the room appear never to have been entered by an outsider. She had just turned her attention to the files when the lights blazed on around her.

Batgirl blinked several times while every door to the room opened. "Suddenly there came a tapping. As if someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. I was scarcely sure I heard you," Bookworm said. "But Poe was right about one thing. You’ll disturb my plans -- Nevermore! Get her boys!"

Bookworm’s Baker Street Boys lunged toward Batgirl who spun and rolled the desk chair into the path of the oncoming Arthur. Without watching him collapse over it, she jumped back to the desktop and caught Doyle on the chin with a high kick. Arthur recovered and dove for her legs. She hopped back and stepped onto the center of his back. Doyle picked up a chair and swung for her. She jumped over the chair and landed on the hapless Arthur. Feeling vulnerable, she jumped to the floor behind Doyle and slammed the back of her fist into his chin. She spun again and took Arthur by the shoulders and spun him toward his partner. They collided and collapsed again on the floor where they remained in a heap as the victorious heroine stood over them with hands on hips.

"Bookworm, before you had them attack, I had nothing on you. Now it looks like you'll be heading back to jail," she said.

"I imagine you'll ask them to throw the book at me,” Bookworm said.

"That will be up to the judge, Bookworm. I have every confidence you'll be treated fairly.”

"I cannot say I share your certainty, Batgirl. Turnabout is, after all, fair play. Irene."

The redheaded henchwoman threw a large book toward Batgirl who adroitly dodged. The book hit the floor and burst open, releasing a cloud of dust. Batgirl gripped her throat and began to cough uncontrollably. Slowly, she collapsed and lay on the floor, unconscious.

"We got her," Arthur said.

"How?" Doyle asked.

"Irene's book was a bedtime story, obviously. We’ll call our saga Death of a Batgirl. The prologue is complete. Now, take her to the reading room and we'll compose the climax, her final chapter." Bookworm said with a laugh. His men picked up the helpless heroine and followed Irene from the chamber.

Later, as Batgirl awakened, she kept her eyes closed to try and learn about her surroundings and her enemies’ plans before revealing she had recovered.

She realized immediately her arms had been extended above her head. A slight tremor of muscular activity along them determined they were fastened together and held in place with strands of wire. Through similar silent exertions, she learned it was impossible to move her shoulders, hips, knees, or ankles in any fashion. The familiar blended sensation of excitement and fear began to build within her. Silently, she mastered her emotions, composing herself for the performance dignity required of her before the villains left her to die. As she prepared, she listened.

"Could we get on with it?" Irene asked. “She'll be conscious before the end so you can explain it. After all, there are more interesting things to do tonight once we get past her.”

"Patience, Irene," Bookworm cautioned. "Many of our colleagues have been composing Batgirl's last stanza for several years. It's important the rhythms of the event aren't disturbed. Waiting is a professional courtesy. And your whining is what the Bard meant by the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune."

"Speaking of outrageous fortune, the one we're after isn’t getting any closer. Why don't you at least put the men to work. They can get all sweaty digging in the tunnel or watching her struggle. It's up to you."

Now that she knew Bookworm was digging a tunnel, Batgirl decided she could learn the rest of Bookworm’s plans while he gloated. She moaned theatrically and let her eyes flutter open.

"Finally!" Irene said.

"Hush," Bookworm commanded. He tore his eyes from the well-rounded redhead beside him and concentrated on the bound beauty lying at his mercy. "Welcome back, Batgirl."

"Is this how you treat all your new employees, Bookworm? I must say, I'm seriously considering resigning."

Bookworm permitted himself a smile. "And resigned you shall be, my dear Batgirl. It is, after all, end game."

"It isn't over yet."

He laughed. "Soon, I shall start raising the covers of the open book you find yourself bound within. Thus, the covers will come together and ultimately close. Simultaneously, your petite body will be pinched relentlessly and painfully until the pressure crushes your very life away. I got the idea talking to a woman named Moth I met in prison. If insects can be displayed in books once they have been crushed, why not small mammals? What do you think?"

"I think you know you won't get away with this. Evil is always crushed in the end."

"A remark, or should I say epitaph, worthy of the Caped Crusader himself."

"I'm sure Batman would agree."

"This is all very interesting," Irene cut in. "But, would it interrupt the rhythm of her final moments if we started the gizmo?"

Bookworm turned his attention from his curvy captive to his healthy henchwoman. "I believe we have come to the point where we bid the heroine her final farewell. Irene, if you would be so kind as to press forward with our agenda."

"With the greatest of pleasure." With that acknowledgment, the endowed executioner wiggled her way to a pair of switches and threw them into the on position. A humming began from beneath the book covers and they began to move upward and closer together.

"Boys, I’ll need you to get on with the work. For soon the Bat-Bookmark will be crushed into sleeping Raymond Chandler's Big Sleep. Wish her good nightmares as we go gently. Come along, my dear." Bookworm said, offering his ravishing partner rogue his arm. “We have too much other pressing business to attend to, which prevents us from staying to fully enjoy the climax of your crime fighting career,” Bookworm explained, turning briefly back to the costumed cutie. “Goodbye, Batgirl.”

Arthur and Doyle looked longingly at the dying dynamo and Irene favored her with a smug nod before leaving on her boss’s arm.

Batgirl watched them go before the reading room’s double doors locked. Laughter echoed in the hall outside as the helpless heroine lay bound and alone in Bookworm's ominous omnibus . . .

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