"Do you have any idea why Jerome would want those blue prints?" Jim asked Bruce Wayne who was shifting about in the cold. They were standing outside the office building that Jerome had raided, police and press were still swarming about the place as they spoke.

Bruce shook his head.

"Why don't we go some where else to discuss this detective?" Alfred suggested as he looked around at the number of cameras clicking away at their interaction.

Jim pierces his lips at the Englishman and frowned. A small worm of irritation had started wriggling around his head. He had been so close to Jerome, to his daughter, and he managed to loose the madman again. He sighed.

"The plans, Bruce, how important were they?" he asked the boy again, ignoring Alfred.

Bruce clenched his jaw and looked at Alfred, who was frowning at Jim.

"Very important," Bruce muttered, looking back at Jim.

"Okay, we will go down to the station where you can explain everything there, is there anything that we should know before we look into this, Bruce?" Jim said sternly.

"How about we save it for the station, ay!" Alfred chimes in again, before directing Bruce to the sleek black car they had arrived in.

"Come on, master Bruce," he muttered to the boy as they left Jim.

Jim once again sighed and shook his head. He was so distracted by his encounter

that he had lost concentration on Bruce and all he could think about was what Jerome had said to him. Son-in-law.

Harvey's strong grip on Jim's shoulder snapped him away from his worries, and he was brought quickly back into reality.

"We'd better follow them," he said, patting Jim on the back.

"Of course, right," Jim responded. He slowly started to make for his car, his head still spinning from the attack. He fumbled trying to get his keys. Harvey caught onto this and gently took them from Jim.

"I think I'll drive."

#

Jerome had spread out the blueprints over a large dinner table. There were three blue prints, one of Uptown Gotham, one of Mid-town and Downtown Gotham. All of Wayne Enterprises properties were marked on there, from skyscraper to factory.

Surrounding him was Scarecrow, Tetch and Oswald. They were sitting in the warehouse which Jerome had taken over, the room that they were sitting in was damp and dimly lit with graffiti and mould covering its walls. Oswald seemed nervous as he set eyes on the blueprints, trying to work out what Jerome was planning to do with them. Why the blueprints of all things?

Jerome sat back down at the head of table, stretched out his hands in front of him and rolled his neck. It looked as if he was preparing for a physical fight.

"Gentlemen," he started as he relaxed in his chair, "in front of you is the entire layout of Wayne Enterprises. This is our golden tickets, gents. This is how we bring down the city." He paused, smoothing out the plans. He was smirking.

"I-I'm sorry, Jerome, but how are these plans going to help destroy Gotham?" Oswald chimed in, his grip on his cane tightening. Despite his own criminal background, the current company which he kept made him unbelievably nervous. Perhaps it was their unpredictability which set him on edge.

"I'm glad you asked, Oswald," Jerome smiled, leaning back into his chair.

"Wayne Enterprises will allow us to hold Gotham in the palm of our hand. With Johnny boy's new potion and Tetch's persuasive skills we will be able to destroy this city through the corporation that is trying to save it. All we need is one final piece to complete this puzzle." Jerome said with a mischievous glimmer in his eye.

"What is the final piece?" Oswald said timidly.

"My brother."