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Charming.
Daredevil is standing in a dark room, lit only through the moonlight. Not as if it matters to him, of course, but it does give him enough shadow to remain hidden as he goes about his work.
The bed smells of starched and high expense linen. Well, except for that irony-smell coming from the middle and all over the wall. That would be blood; it is unmistakable. The slight difference in temperature registers as an outline to his radar senses. Clear to him that it was a gunshot, leveled at the victim in bed, presumably he woke right before the coup de grace. Was awaken? Interesting.
The dead is a mid-level named Yuri Volenkov. No shortage of people who want him dead. Shortage of people who could get in here though. These sorts of things occupy Daredevil's mind during these precious moments before the police arrive. Were there any chance to revive him, Daredevil would not be here. Given that much of the brain matter is splattered everywhere and that the victim died instantly, Matt doesn't seem overly concerned about paramedics.
*
The light rustle of fabric disturbed by whistling wind would serve as well below the hearing of most individuals on this dark night, especially with all of the other noises that create the atmosphere of New York City. That is likely untrue for the likes of Daredevil, and he would likely have little trouble tracking that noise growing louder as it approaches the lone window standing open to allow a gentle breeze to billow the sheer white curtain framing it.
The light spilling in is disturbed, blotted out entirley as a shadow drifts over and then almost gracefully to perch on the window sill. The shape is undoubtedly a man, the black suit seeming at once fluid and hard in it's composition, the noise of hard rubber sliding together also likely discernable to Daredevil's acute hearing. The pointed ears of the man's cowl are likely enough to identify the new arrival who for now stays perched there in the window, staring across the darkness before uttering with a voice that growls and grates with a history of fine whiskey and likely several cigars, "All alone at the scene of a crime is a bad place to be caught."
*
"If I'd have been here a bit sooner, I wouldn't have been here all alone. I'd have caught the guy who did it." Daredevil is no newbie to the vigilante scene in this town. He's heard rumors of a bat that patrols the night; he just wasn't sure the Bat-Man was real. Nevertheless, despite being accused, he seems remarkably relaxed.
"Gunshot to the head. I'm thinking the guy was awake when it happened. Gunshot residue has the shooter at the foot of the bed. My guess is a .45." The last bit he's pretty sure about, but because it has to do with his sense of smell and the odor of the leftover smoke, he doesn't explain it. No reason to let this Bat-Man, if that's who he is, even, have everything about him.
*
The Batman slips from the window with a soft thump of booted feet to the carpet, followed by the rustle of his cape slipping over the window sill. When he stands, it is at a broad shouldered and easy six feet. Pacing slowly further into the room, Batman's eyes eventually leave Daredevil, apparently not really thinking him guilty of this crime, despite his accusation. His eyes sweep to the victim, and the splatter of blood, nodding his agreement with Daredevil's assessment on the angle of the shot. "Do we have any signs of entry? This would be a hard place for many to slip into without being seen," he growls, sweeping his gaze around to peer at the door, looking for signs of forced entry.
*
Matt Murdock has partially disconnected.
*
"Haven't got that far yet, unfortunately. Victim is Yuri Volenkov, 57. He's a mid with the Russians, but I assume I don't have to tell you that. No secret that they're at war with everyone in this town. No shortage of enemies." Daredevil heads over toward the door hinge and begins to inspect it.
*
The Batman lifts his hands, sliding them along the inner side of the door facing, looking for signs of the door being kicked or pryed open, though he does not open the door. "So our play from here is to find out who Yuri Volenkov has pissed off lately. Maybe we find out what he was doing with the Russian mob so that we can track down who had enough of it to send out a hit on him," Batman rumbles, to himself as much as to Daredevil. Reaching up to the side of his cowl, his fingers toggle a button inset in the temple of the hood which causes the lenses over his eyes to glow red, powering on the infared feature, sweeping the room for any lingering heat signatures of finger prints or bodily fluids unrelated to the victim.
*
Oh, there are a ton of bodily fluids. Volenkov really needed to wash his sheets more. Daredevil nods to Batman, "Figure one of us can question those in the Russian mob and the other can start rattling the teeth of the low levels in other gangs. Someone must know something." Batman will notice the the door was not pried open in anyway, nor was it kicked.
*
"No sign of forced entry at the door, so that means either the person had a key, or was let in by one of the staff. Possible one of the Russians could have knocked off one of their own… or they came through the window the same as us…" Batman says aloud, toggling off the thermal imaging and turning to face Daredevil more directly. He crosses his arms over his chest before saying, "Who are you?"
*
Daredevil tilts his head in Batman's direction, "Could be a lock pick. Have to check inside the lock." He nods, "I didn't think of the Russians knocking off themselves. As realistic an option as any. If that's the case they probably want to hire from outside, I would imagine." Daredevil chuckles at the question, "Just a guy. Same as you. Who are you?"
*
There is no answering chuckle from Batman. In fact the salt and pepper stubbled lower portion of his face tenses into slightly bared teeth for a moment before he growls out, "I make it a habit of knowing who I am working with, if I work with anyone. I haven't taken you down yet, because I don't think you have anything to do with this. I have heard of you, but not met you. Let's not play games here."
*
"You know who I am," Daredevil replies. "And I know who you are. Neither of us have time for games." The man in red comes over to the doorway and kneels on the ground. Slowly he twists the door handle. "Lockpick. You can tell by the way the gears catch wrong when you twist the door."
*
Batman pauses as he listens to Daredevil's assessment of the door, finally nodding his head. "Good enough," he says. He eyes the doorknob for a moment before he reaches to his utility belt and pulls out a simple compact and brush before leaning down to just the knob and face of the door itself around the lock for prints. "The killer is likely smart enough not to leave prints, but it is better to go ahead and clear that base."
*
Nightwing has arrived.
*
Daredevil nods as Batman checks for prints. As the elder man surmised, there isn't a trace of finger prints. Whoever it is wears gloves. "Question I'm wondering about is whether or not the killer woke him up before hand, or if it was an accident. Spatter says he was sitting up."
*
Batman and Daredevil are in a moonlit bedroom which is the site of a recent murder. The victim is laid out on the bed, brain splatter on the walk behind him. The door is closed and locked, and a single open window allows entry onto the scene.
Batman sighs as he slips his dusting kit back into his utility belt, turning his head to peer back at the splatter of blood on the wall. "If he was made to wake up before the murder it is possible that the attacker wanted something from him before killing him. Information…" he muses thoughtfully.
*
"Could be," Daredevil says with a nod. But then, he reconsiders, "Or, it could be that he is just a sick person who likes to look in the eyes of those he kills. I imagine we won't know until after we know who he is." And then, another thought. "Threatening for information. Maybe he didn't give it. Or maybe he got killed anyways."
*
When Batman didn't meet at the rendesvous, Nightwing got a little concerned. It's not that he doesn't think he could handle his own, but Batman is punctual and missing a meet could mean something has gone south. It meant tracking Batman…not an easy feat, and taking a moment to assess the situation upon approaching the open window. He recognizes one voice but not the other. There is no sound of a fight, only discussion. As he shifts his weight to better balance, there's a slight creak from the fire escape.
*
Batman is silent for a while, considering Daredevil's words over crossed arms before he stands and moves back toward the bed, gazing down at the body. "If that is the case, we will have no way of knowing whether or not this man gave up the information… Unless there is some device in this room that the man had put in place, banking on something of this nature happening." He lifts his eyes, gazing around the room toward the light fixtures.
*
Daredevi nods, "Room probably should be swept, but I have a feeling we'll run out of time before we're able to do a thoro—" The Man Without Fear stops abruptly and tilts his head. "Someone's coming from outside." With a spring in his step, he moves behind a dresser and ducks down a bit in order not to be seen.
*
Bruce Wayne has partially disconnected.
*
Batman is already nodding in agreement with Daredevil before the man alerts him of the approach of another. As the man in red leaps over to crouch behind the dresser, Batman moves directly for the window. His intent is to reach out and haul in whoever is creeping about outside, it could be the murderer, afterall!
*
Not that they shouldn't be wary! Nightwing hears the comment from the unfamiliar voice and peeks in through the window, "Just me. Sorry if I startled you." The first is more for Batman, the next for the stranger. "You weren't at the meet-up point," is offered back to Batman, "So I came searching." Some old habits die hard. "Although I see you found something more interesting…" is offered as he looks about the room from behind his domino mask.
*
Daredevil straightens once it seems obvious that it's no trick and no murderer. "Whatever you wanna get from the scene you should be quick about it," he advises Nightwing. "Cops will be here any minute."
*
Batman is quick to relay the pertinent information to Nightwing, "Victim has a gunshot wound to the head, appears to have been sitting up in bed at the time of murder given the angle of the splatter in relation to the bed. The victim is Yuri Volenkov, age 57. He is a mid level goon with the Russian mob. The murderer picked the lock to gain entry before fleeing the scene. The room is may be tapped, so we need to find that tape before we leave. It may give us intel on the shooter, as well as information as to what they were looking for." With that, Batman begins searching the lamp fixtures for any recording device.
*
A nod is given to Daredevil, "Thanks," before he glances between Batman and the other. Well, if they're ok with each other here, he'll be too. "Are we sure the lock was picked and the guy didn't know his shooter? Was he tied to the bed and held still before being shot?" Nightwing will go and crouch down to look at Yuri's hands. Does it look like there was a scuffle? Is the Apartment out of sorts?
*
Daredevil doesn't seem too worried about any electrical equipment. Though the others don't know it about him, he'd likely be able to hear the equipment. Though searching, Batman doesn't seem to find any bugs or anything of that nature. Likewise, it does not appear that the man was restrained at all. There are no marks upon the wrists to indicate he'd been tied down. The room seems to be neat, generally, aside from the brain matter and blood, of course.
*
Batman straightens with a sigh from checking the last lamp in the room. "Nothing," he admits, glancing toward the others. He steps toward Daredevil and says, "Nightwing and I will look into putting a beating on some of the local thugs. We will see what we can find out about the victim and what his job was with the Russians. You do some digging and see if you can find out anything about anyone who would have a big enough bone to pick with them to send a professional hit out on this guy."
*
Nightwing straightens and glances around, "There wasn't a fight. He wasn't tied up. You think he just sat there in bed and let someone he didn't know up and shoot him? He had to have known whomever came in here." He looks between the two, "Or am I reiterating what you two already figured out." There's a wry little twist of his mouth then. It wouldn't surprise him. "If it was a hit, he knew the guy…or gal…who did it. That's my bet."
*
"Not really sure, Nightwing," Daredevil shrugs before nodding to Batman. "I'll be in touch." He throws one leg over the window sill and slips out of the room. He goes up onto the fire escape and throws himself off of the end of the building before firing his billy club.
*