Twists of Fate - 1 - Alfred Frets
Title Twists of Fate - 1 - Alfred Frets
Author: charlie_bz
Pairing/Characters: Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle, Alfred Pennyworth, Jim Gordon, John Blake
Rating: For mature readers - Later chapters will turn quite dark.
Warnings: see above
Spoilers: Dark Knight Rises
Disclaimer: Dark Knight Rises does not belong to me.
Description: With Selina Kyle by his side, Bruce Wayne returns to Gotham to fulfill his family's legacy. After a brutal crime, he learns that ghosts from Selina's past can no longer be ignored and he must investigate her mysterious past.
Prologue
Chapter 1: Alfred Frets
The afternoon sun shined brightly through the wall of massive windows bathing the spacious Gotham penthouse in a warm glow. The early spring day was the kind of day that signaled the end of winter and the beginning of a new cycle of life. It was the kind of day that was filled with promise and optimism.
Just not for the man who felt like his world would soon be crashing upon him
Alfred Pennyworth fussed about the bright penthouse desperate to fill idle time that was good for absolutely nothing except forcing upon him ample opportunities to nurse his worries. Worries that increased each and every time he compulsively checked his watch.
He walked through the upper level of the penthouse pausing just outside the master bedroom which, despite the comfort of the bed and the fashionable furnishings, seemed to be shunned equally by both Master Bruce and Ms. Kyle. The bed had not been slept in. Again
He shook his head and made his way to the lower level where his search for a task was rewarded when he found one of the cleaning staff scrubbing determinedly at the tricycle tire marks that marred the expensive Italian marble. Even as he instructed Shanti on the proper care of marble, he couldn’t help glancing at his watch again.
Well, the Thief has finally done it. Finally absconded with the thing the master loved most in this world.
His face must have betrayed his emotions as Shanti fearfully apologized in her stilted, heavily accented English. Alfred patted her shoulder assuring her she was doing fine. She smiled shyly, with only the slightest hint of hesitation and fear before returning to her task
After checking the time again, he sighed, unhappiness sweeping over him. This wasn’t what he wanted for Master Bruce, wasn’t at all what he envisioned as he spent three years pondering the life Bruce would lead when he eventually returned to Gotham.
Alfred had scarcely recognized the man who returned after almost four years away. The Bruce Wayne that greeted him at the private airport on the outskirts of Gotham was vastly different in every respect from the man who had closeted himself away from the world pining for a fantasy life. Like the man who returned the first time, he was a man with a plan, not a plan of becoming a symbol to rid Gotham of crime and corruption but a plan to assume the Wayne mantle and live the life Thomas and Martha Wayne had once dreamed for their son.
Alfred could not deny his own happiness and pride at Bruce finally choosing to live up to his illustrious family’s legacy. Ever since that night three years ago when Bruce had contacted him out of the blue, Alfred knew it was inevitable that Bruce Wayne would return to Gotham. How could he resist the pull of six generations of Waynes after the arrival of the newest one?
“Alfred,” Bruce greeted in a soft voice. “How are you?”
“Quite well, sir, despite my heart attack at the suddenness of your call. Don’t worry, though, the paramedics will be arriving shortly.”
Bruce laughed quietly then asked: “How is England?”
Alfred’s racing heart calmed enough so he didn’t have to work so hard at out sounding casual. He knew Bruce knew the truth of it but he liked to put on a show for his wayward ward. “Quite dreary really: cold and rainy. And how is wherever you are? Sunny and warm, I trust?”
“Cold and snowy,” Bruce clarified speaking in the same soft tone. “Look, Alfred, sorry to spring this on you but I need to not be dead anymore.”
“Oh?” Alfred sat down trying to contain his curiosity and concern. Batman had died a spectacular death and he was not interested in seeing him resurrected in any manner. “Ah, so you’ve heard Lucius triumphed over the fraud and had your fortune restored and now you mean to deny me of my inheritance?”
“Sorry to keep doing that to you,” Bruce said quietly but not without humor and Alfred detected something very different and entirely foreign in his voice. “I want this taken care of with no fuss and no publicity, Alfred. Keep it very quiet.”
“Are you returning to Gotham, sir?”
A slight hesitation then a soft, “No.”
“Are you in trouble, sir?”
Bruce laughed, a sincere, heartfelt kind of laugh that Alfred hadn’t heard from him. “Huge trouble, Alfred. Check your email.”
The sender of the new email had a name that was such a jumble of letters and numbers that Alfred would have dismissed it as spam and deleted it without a second thought. There was no subject and no message just an attachment that, when opened, stunned him as little had before.
The sight of a well-swaddled baby held snugly in Bruce’s arms shocked him even more than seeing not-dead him across the café in Florence last summer. Alfred’s eyes watered and he had no words for what that picture communicated to him. They both were quiet; Alfred gazing at the picture that Bruce had just snapped and Bruce staring at the real thing.
“Her name is Helena,” Bruce finally said and Alfred now understood that indefinable something that he heard in Bruce’s voice: happiness.
“Well, this is unexpected,” Alfred commented, still reeling and at a loss for words.
“Tell me about it,” Bruce replied and Alfred could hear the smile in his voice.
“How old is she?”
“Eight days. I’ll send over the specifics so you can make sure everything is set for her.”
The orphan in Bruce wanted to leave nothing to chance in case the unthinkable happened. As soon as he hung up, Alfred called the elderly attorney who had served as a trusted advisor to the Wayne family since Bruce’s grandfather’s time. The retired lawyer contacted the firm that still bore his name and everything was set in motion. Trusts were formed, iron-clad wills cemented as well as a barrage of documents, forms and other miscellaneous paperwork ensuring that the newborn was now the indisputable heiress to the Wayne family fortune
And no one found out about it. All papers that were filed with the courts were filed in the most wordy and boring fashion so that anyone with the slightest curiosity would blanch at having to wade through hundreds of pages of legal jargon. One of the senior partners accustomed to Wayne secrecy was dispatched to Russia to secure the necessary signatures and documentation. It was well over four months later when Alfred received a cursory call from the partner confirming that everything had been settled. Alfred later received a call from the nonagenarian attorney joking about the inheritance that seemed to keep slipping through his fingers. Alfred laughed along with the man delighted about the reason he was no longer a billionaire.
So instead of finding a little house in the English countryside and living the life of a retired gentleman as he once thought he might do, Alfred returned to Wayne Manor and bided his time until the not-so-young master returned to Gotham. He didn’t mind though, his duties as caretaker kept him pleasantly busy. Most of the children appreciated the beautiful surroundings of their new home and Alfred enjoyed the vibrancy of their presence after so many years of silence and gloom. Some of the children with authority issues lashed out threatening to be a problem but they soon learned that the ‘Old Man’ was not one to be trifled with and gave the house the respect it deserved. The more difficult of the difficult were parceled to Blake whose kindness and patience only seemed to increase with the angriest of orphans. Blake was always a welcome visitor to the manor not only helping with the children but furtively sealing off all entrances to the underground caverns from the main house.
When Bruce’s call finally came, seven months ago, Alfred happily turned over his manor responsibilities to his trusted assistant and returned to the Gotham penthouse to prepare for Bruce’s arrival. While the penthouse did not have many fond memories for Alfred, the joy that Helena brought did much to dispel Alfred’s initial trepidation over the living arrangements
After they first arrived, Bruce spoke of finding a more suitable place with Ms. Kyle joking that they should just kick the orphans out of Wayne Manor but talk of new residences had vanished as well as the easy rapport that Alfred had observed between Master Wayne and Ms. Kyle. Or, as he was thinking of her lately, The Thief.
Alfred’s gratitude to the woman who seemed to be the root of Bruce’s newfound happiness shifted to suspicion. That distrust led him to take a closer look at what she did when Bruce wasn’t around. Which was becoming more and more frequent
Alfred had seen it before, how Bruce obsessively threw himself into something , his tunnel vision shielding him from unwanted truths. Yet, even as busy as he was at Wayne Enterprises, Bruce always made time for his daughter and, unless he was out of town, made sure he was with her for every breakfast and dinner, staying home until she went to bed then excusing himself to continue working in his office at home. Or, as he was more recently prone to doing, returning to Wayne Enterprises. There always seemed to be some project or an important transcontinental conference call pulling his attention from the woman who restlessly prowled the penthouse.
Something was going on with her, something that Bruce seemed unable or unwilling to face
Three months ago, the first time Bruce travelled away on business, Selina had unexpectedly knocked on Alfred’s door. Handing him a monitor, she told him she had a terrible migraine and was going to take something and would he mind listening just in case Helena woke up in the night? He hadn’t minded in the slightest because, at that point, he couldn’t imagine that the woman would sneak out of the penthouse and not return until the crack of dawn.
Two more nights of migraines, then she had Isha spend the night telling them she was visiting a friend. No other explanation was offered as she avoided Alfred’s questioning gaze
He didn’t know how she was masking her absences from Bruce but when she returned from her twenty-four hour disappearance Alfred confronted her unable to stand the thought of her doing anything to cause Master Wayne pain
ldquo;Are you gonna tell on me?” She asked in a manner that let him know she knew he wouldn’t.
“I don’t know what you’re playing at but I needn’t remind you who you’re dealing with,” Alfred said.
Her gaze remained steady and inscrutable. “Maybe he needs to remember who he’s dealing with.”
He wanted to rage at her, this slip of a woman who had too much power over Bruce and, consequently, over him. Why the man couldn’t find a sweet, uncomplicated woman with no checkered past was beyond him
His bluff was called; Alfred hadn’t forgotten the last time he had delivered an unpleasant truth to Bruce and he had to be certain of the facts before he approached that territory again. So he waved off his cowardly behavior, telling himself that the master would soon discover her shenanigans on his own. Weeks passed and the only thing that changed was the ever widening distance between them
It was a vicious circle that Alfred could no longer watch. The woman was making a fool of Bruce, he was sure of it, and that was, quite simply, unacceptable. So he hemmed and hawed, watching for the right opportunity which never seemed to present itself. Until Monday morning when Bruce said he was going to Washington, D.C. for a few days and Alfred knew he could keep quiet no longer.
“Can’t you do your work from here?” Alfred asked as Bruce prepared for his trip.
“I could but I want to meet this investor in person.” Bruce was far more cautious about who he did business with than he had in the past. Potential business allies and partners were subject to more vetting than top level CIA operatives. “I can’t ignore the rumors about Mr. Gupta but -”
“But you are ignoring other matters, sir,” Alfred interrupted.
ldquo;Such as?” Bruce looked confused and Alfred marveled that sometimes Bruce could be the dumbest genius he had ever met.
“Such as the woman who used to share your bed.” Alfred’s frustration caused him to be more blunt than he intended. He waved his hand as an apology.
“I know you don’t like her, Alfred,” Bruce replied, his tone one of exasperation mixed with a bit of warning. “What do you want me to do? Arrange a therapy session between you two?”
ldquo;No, sir. I want you to open your eyes.” Alfred braced himself for the worst part absolutely hating having to be the bearer of ugly truths but he had a painful lesson on the price of evading them which is why he squared his shoulders and plunged on. “You both spent the last few years living the ideal life as besotted new parents, travelling the world. You know Selina the mother, the lover, the traveler, but what do you know about Selina Kyle of Gotham? The woman who once had an extensive criminal record?”
Bruce didn’t answer so Alfred pressed on. “I want you to ask Ms. Kyle where she is spending her nights when you are away.”
Bruce stared at him in shock before defensive anger settled over his features. “Where are you getting this? She wouldn’t leave ‘Lena. You’re letting your dislike of her get the better of you.”
“Isha spends a lot of nights here when you are away,” Alfred replied. “The last time you were away, Ms. Kyle left every night you were gone and did not return until early in the morning.”
ruce turned away. “I’ll deal with this when I get back on Thursday,” he said, quietly
Alfred handed him his garment bag. Without looking back at him, Bruce left but returned a few moments later to assure Alfred he wasn’t angry with him. That was yesterday.
This morning, less than twenty-four hours after their discussion, Alfred had not been terribly surprised to see Bruce back at home. He carried Helena down the staircase, holding her upside down and tickling her like it was a normal morning. Alfred followed them to the kitchen where Bruce sat Helena on the expansive granite counter while he got her something to eat. The mood was light until Ms. Kyle walked in and though there was no outward change in Bruce’s demeanor Alfred felt the mood shift instantly
Selina was all smiles and kisses for Helena but neither Bruce nor Selina looked at each other once. They put on a good show for their daughter who, at three years of age, should be and was oblivious to parental strife.
When Bruce prepared to leave for the office, he carried Helena to the elevator for their customary goodbye routine then as she reached for her mother, Bruce and Selina’s eyes met, Bruce’s darkening as if facing a threat, a warning clear in his expression.
“What are you doing?” Alfred asked Selina less than fifteen minutes later as she gathered Helena and Isha, ushering them to the elevator.
“Taking Isha home. Is that ok with you?” She looked tired and tense and Alfred realized she’d worn that same look for months. “We’ll be back by naptime.”
Naptime was hours ago and that look that he observed between Bruce and Selina haunted him. The expression on Bruce’s face was one he hoped never to see again. He looked down at his watch and winced to see that it was now almost three
hanti appeared, shyly handing him the wastebasket from the master bedroom, averting her eyes. Inside was the shattered remains of Selina’s cell phone. Alfred thought again of the hostile look that had passed between Bruce and Selina and wondered if the broken phone was a message from Ms. Kyle.
Shanti’s eyes widened and with a respectful nod quickly disappeared. Alfred took a moment to compose himself before he turned to face Bruce whom he knew was approaching.
“Where’s Selina?” Bruce asked tersely, the anger showing on his face the reason for Shanti’s quick exit. He started up the staircase to Helena’s room which, if she were here, is where she would be napping or playing at this time of day. “Her car’s not downstairs.”
ldquo;I don’t know, sir,” Alfred responded. “Helena’s not here either.”
That stopped Bruce. He turned to face Alfred giving him a grim look.
“They haven’t been here all day. I spoke with Isha and she confirmed they dropped her off this morning around eight. I checked for accidents and there’s nothing…” He shrugged his shoulders in a helpless gesture.
Bruce stared at him for a few moments, his deepening anger evident in the narrowing of his eyes. He reached for his phone.
“I’ve been calling but…” Alfred showed him the smashed phone.
Bruce sighed, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “I forgot about that.”
“Beg pardon, sir?”
“I did that,” he responded quietly and Alfred wondered again what had happened the night before. Whatever it was, he feared it was bad enough that Bruce was under the impression Selina may have taken the child and left.
“For what it’s worth, and I may not be Ms. Kyle’s biggest supporter, she wouldn’t just take her and leave you forever.” Whatever Alfred felt for Ms. Kyle, he could not deny her consuming love for her daughter and, up to now, he never considered that she would do anything to remove the child from the love and safety of her father.
“Wouldn’t she?” Bruce asked. “As you reminded me earlier, I really don’t know anything about her other than she is a thief.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.&rdquo
The doorman signaled from the lobby announcing they had guests.
“I’ll take care of it, sir,” Alfred said unnecessarily as he walked to the monitor to see who dared show up at this very inopportune time.
nervous looking young blonde woman appeared on the screen. Then Helena’s face appeared and Alfred quickly summoned them to come up, calling out to Bruce.
When the elevator doors opened, Helena rushed to her father, her face and hands sticky with the remains of chocolate ice cream.
“And you are…?” Alfred asked the young woman who looked around the foyer with awe.
“Jenn, right?” Bruce said, holding Helena tightly unmindful of her sticky hands on his clothes.
“Yes. Hello,” she said without smiling, and gave them a look, indicating she wanted to speak but not in front of Helena.
Bruce called out for Shanti, asking in Hindi for her to get Helena cleaned up. He handed his daughter to Shanti with a kiss and another tight hug.
“Where is she?” Bruce demanded as soon as Helena was out of earshot.
“I don’t know.” Jenn looked at him helplessly. “She was supposed to be back hours ago. I’m worried. I’ve been calling her and calling her but… So after the kid woke up from her nap, I came here.”
“Where was she going?”
“I don’t know. She doesn’t tell me.”
“Doesn’t? This isn’t the first time?”
“I’ve been watching Helena a couple mornings a week.”
“And you don’t know where she goes?”
Jenn shrugged. “She just said not to concern myself with it.”
Bruce stared at her for a few moments before asking, “Who is she with?”
She averted her gaze from him, looking guilty. “No one,” she said unconvincingly
Bruce pressed her, looking angry and dangerous.
“I don’t know! I swear! She drops Helena off at my place then leaves. I gotta go. Tell her to call me when she gets in, ok?”
She started to leave then paused and said to Alfred: “She usually gives me something for watching Helena. It’s not like I’m charging but…it’s helpful.”
Alfred gave her the only cash he had: a fifty
After she left, he turned to see Bruce scrolling through his phone.
ldquo;What is it?” Alfred asked when Bruce became still, his face losing all expression.
Bruce checked his watch. “A text from three hours ago from an anonymous phone: ‘352 Riverside. Help!’ ”
The address was in the warehouse district across the river outside of central Gotham.
“With afternoon traffic, it’ll be 45 minutes. If you’re lucky,” Alfred called out as Bruce played voice mail messages on his speaker phone, deleting the inconsequential calls he often received.
The fourth message stopped him cold. When Selina’s weak, defeated voice came through, Bruce looked up and met Alfred’s distressed gaze.
“Bruce…I’m sorry…I didn’t…They killed him…I’m so sorry…Tell Helena…” Her voice trailed off then silence. The last sound on the message was the clatter of the phone falling.
On his way out, Bruce hung up then made a call and when that one wasn’t answered, quickly made another. As the doors to the elevator closed, he told Alfred to find Jim Gordon.
Next Chapter
Author: charlie_bz
Pairing/Characters: Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle, Alfred Pennyworth, Jim Gordon, John Blake
Rating: For mature readers - Later chapters will turn quite dark.
Warnings: see above
Spoilers: Dark Knight Rises
Disclaimer: Dark Knight Rises does not belong to me.
Description: With Selina Kyle by his side, Bruce Wayne returns to Gotham to fulfill his family's legacy. After a brutal crime, he learns that ghosts from Selina's past can no longer be ignored and he must investigate her mysterious past.
Prologue
Chapter 1: Alfred Frets
The afternoon sun shined brightly through the wall of massive windows bathing the spacious Gotham penthouse in a warm glow. The early spring day was the kind of day that signaled the end of winter and the beginning of a new cycle of life. It was the kind of day that was filled with promise and optimism.
Just not for the man who felt like his world would soon be crashing upon him
Alfred Pennyworth fussed about the bright penthouse desperate to fill idle time that was good for absolutely nothing except forcing upon him ample opportunities to nurse his worries. Worries that increased each and every time he compulsively checked his watch.
He walked through the upper level of the penthouse pausing just outside the master bedroom which, despite the comfort of the bed and the fashionable furnishings, seemed to be shunned equally by both Master Bruce and Ms. Kyle. The bed had not been slept in. Again
He shook his head and made his way to the lower level where his search for a task was rewarded when he found one of the cleaning staff scrubbing determinedly at the tricycle tire marks that marred the expensive Italian marble. Even as he instructed Shanti on the proper care of marble, he couldn’t help glancing at his watch again.
Well, the Thief has finally done it. Finally absconded with the thing the master loved most in this world.
His face must have betrayed his emotions as Shanti fearfully apologized in her stilted, heavily accented English. Alfred patted her shoulder assuring her she was doing fine. She smiled shyly, with only the slightest hint of hesitation and fear before returning to her task
After checking the time again, he sighed, unhappiness sweeping over him. This wasn’t what he wanted for Master Bruce, wasn’t at all what he envisioned as he spent three years pondering the life Bruce would lead when he eventually returned to Gotham.
Alfred had scarcely recognized the man who returned after almost four years away. The Bruce Wayne that greeted him at the private airport on the outskirts of Gotham was vastly different in every respect from the man who had closeted himself away from the world pining for a fantasy life. Like the man who returned the first time, he was a man with a plan, not a plan of becoming a symbol to rid Gotham of crime and corruption but a plan to assume the Wayne mantle and live the life Thomas and Martha Wayne had once dreamed for their son.
Alfred could not deny his own happiness and pride at Bruce finally choosing to live up to his illustrious family’s legacy. Ever since that night three years ago when Bruce had contacted him out of the blue, Alfred knew it was inevitable that Bruce Wayne would return to Gotham. How could he resist the pull of six generations of Waynes after the arrival of the newest one?
“Alfred,” Bruce greeted in a soft voice. “How are you?”
“Quite well, sir, despite my heart attack at the suddenness of your call. Don’t worry, though, the paramedics will be arriving shortly.”
Bruce laughed quietly then asked: “How is England?”
Alfred’s racing heart calmed enough so he didn’t have to work so hard at out sounding casual. He knew Bruce knew the truth of it but he liked to put on a show for his wayward ward. “Quite dreary really: cold and rainy. And how is wherever you are? Sunny and warm, I trust?”
“Cold and snowy,” Bruce clarified speaking in the same soft tone. “Look, Alfred, sorry to spring this on you but I need to not be dead anymore.”
“Oh?” Alfred sat down trying to contain his curiosity and concern. Batman had died a spectacular death and he was not interested in seeing him resurrected in any manner. “Ah, so you’ve heard Lucius triumphed over the fraud and had your fortune restored and now you mean to deny me of my inheritance?”
“Sorry to keep doing that to you,” Bruce said quietly but not without humor and Alfred detected something very different and entirely foreign in his voice. “I want this taken care of with no fuss and no publicity, Alfred. Keep it very quiet.”
“Are you returning to Gotham, sir?”
A slight hesitation then a soft, “No.”
“Are you in trouble, sir?”
Bruce laughed, a sincere, heartfelt kind of laugh that Alfred hadn’t heard from him. “Huge trouble, Alfred. Check your email.”
The sender of the new email had a name that was such a jumble of letters and numbers that Alfred would have dismissed it as spam and deleted it without a second thought. There was no subject and no message just an attachment that, when opened, stunned him as little had before.
The sight of a well-swaddled baby held snugly in Bruce’s arms shocked him even more than seeing not-dead him across the café in Florence last summer. Alfred’s eyes watered and he had no words for what that picture communicated to him. They both were quiet; Alfred gazing at the picture that Bruce had just snapped and Bruce staring at the real thing.
“Her name is Helena,” Bruce finally said and Alfred now understood that indefinable something that he heard in Bruce’s voice: happiness.
“Well, this is unexpected,” Alfred commented, still reeling and at a loss for words.
“Tell me about it,” Bruce replied and Alfred could hear the smile in his voice.
“How old is she?”
“Eight days. I’ll send over the specifics so you can make sure everything is set for her.”
The orphan in Bruce wanted to leave nothing to chance in case the unthinkable happened. As soon as he hung up, Alfred called the elderly attorney who had served as a trusted advisor to the Wayne family since Bruce’s grandfather’s time. The retired lawyer contacted the firm that still bore his name and everything was set in motion. Trusts were formed, iron-clad wills cemented as well as a barrage of documents, forms and other miscellaneous paperwork ensuring that the newborn was now the indisputable heiress to the Wayne family fortune
And no one found out about it. All papers that were filed with the courts were filed in the most wordy and boring fashion so that anyone with the slightest curiosity would blanch at having to wade through hundreds of pages of legal jargon. One of the senior partners accustomed to Wayne secrecy was dispatched to Russia to secure the necessary signatures and documentation. It was well over four months later when Alfred received a cursory call from the partner confirming that everything had been settled. Alfred later received a call from the nonagenarian attorney joking about the inheritance that seemed to keep slipping through his fingers. Alfred laughed along with the man delighted about the reason he was no longer a billionaire.
So instead of finding a little house in the English countryside and living the life of a retired gentleman as he once thought he might do, Alfred returned to Wayne Manor and bided his time until the not-so-young master returned to Gotham. He didn’t mind though, his duties as caretaker kept him pleasantly busy. Most of the children appreciated the beautiful surroundings of their new home and Alfred enjoyed the vibrancy of their presence after so many years of silence and gloom. Some of the children with authority issues lashed out threatening to be a problem but they soon learned that the ‘Old Man’ was not one to be trifled with and gave the house the respect it deserved. The more difficult of the difficult were parceled to Blake whose kindness and patience only seemed to increase with the angriest of orphans. Blake was always a welcome visitor to the manor not only helping with the children but furtively sealing off all entrances to the underground caverns from the main house.
When Bruce’s call finally came, seven months ago, Alfred happily turned over his manor responsibilities to his trusted assistant and returned to the Gotham penthouse to prepare for Bruce’s arrival. While the penthouse did not have many fond memories for Alfred, the joy that Helena brought did much to dispel Alfred’s initial trepidation over the living arrangements
After they first arrived, Bruce spoke of finding a more suitable place with Ms. Kyle joking that they should just kick the orphans out of Wayne Manor but talk of new residences had vanished as well as the easy rapport that Alfred had observed between Master Wayne and Ms. Kyle. Or, as he was thinking of her lately, The Thief.
Alfred’s gratitude to the woman who seemed to be the root of Bruce’s newfound happiness shifted to suspicion. That distrust led him to take a closer look at what she did when Bruce wasn’t around. Which was becoming more and more frequent
Alfred had seen it before, how Bruce obsessively threw himself into something , his tunnel vision shielding him from unwanted truths. Yet, even as busy as he was at Wayne Enterprises, Bruce always made time for his daughter and, unless he was out of town, made sure he was with her for every breakfast and dinner, staying home until she went to bed then excusing himself to continue working in his office at home. Or, as he was more recently prone to doing, returning to Wayne Enterprises. There always seemed to be some project or an important transcontinental conference call pulling his attention from the woman who restlessly prowled the penthouse.
Something was going on with her, something that Bruce seemed unable or unwilling to face
Three months ago, the first time Bruce travelled away on business, Selina had unexpectedly knocked on Alfred’s door. Handing him a monitor, she told him she had a terrible migraine and was going to take something and would he mind listening just in case Helena woke up in the night? He hadn’t minded in the slightest because, at that point, he couldn’t imagine that the woman would sneak out of the penthouse and not return until the crack of dawn.
Two more nights of migraines, then she had Isha spend the night telling them she was visiting a friend. No other explanation was offered as she avoided Alfred’s questioning gaze
He didn’t know how she was masking her absences from Bruce but when she returned from her twenty-four hour disappearance Alfred confronted her unable to stand the thought of her doing anything to cause Master Wayne pain
ldquo;Are you gonna tell on me?” She asked in a manner that let him know she knew he wouldn’t.
“I don’t know what you’re playing at but I needn’t remind you who you’re dealing with,” Alfred said.
Her gaze remained steady and inscrutable. “Maybe he needs to remember who he’s dealing with.”
He wanted to rage at her, this slip of a woman who had too much power over Bruce and, consequently, over him. Why the man couldn’t find a sweet, uncomplicated woman with no checkered past was beyond him
His bluff was called; Alfred hadn’t forgotten the last time he had delivered an unpleasant truth to Bruce and he had to be certain of the facts before he approached that territory again. So he waved off his cowardly behavior, telling himself that the master would soon discover her shenanigans on his own. Weeks passed and the only thing that changed was the ever widening distance between them
It was a vicious circle that Alfred could no longer watch. The woman was making a fool of Bruce, he was sure of it, and that was, quite simply, unacceptable. So he hemmed and hawed, watching for the right opportunity which never seemed to present itself. Until Monday morning when Bruce said he was going to Washington, D.C. for a few days and Alfred knew he could keep quiet no longer.
“Can’t you do your work from here?” Alfred asked as Bruce prepared for his trip.
“I could but I want to meet this investor in person.” Bruce was far more cautious about who he did business with than he had in the past. Potential business allies and partners were subject to more vetting than top level CIA operatives. “I can’t ignore the rumors about Mr. Gupta but -”
“But you are ignoring other matters, sir,” Alfred interrupted.
ldquo;Such as?” Bruce looked confused and Alfred marveled that sometimes Bruce could be the dumbest genius he had ever met.
“Such as the woman who used to share your bed.” Alfred’s frustration caused him to be more blunt than he intended. He waved his hand as an apology.
“I know you don’t like her, Alfred,” Bruce replied, his tone one of exasperation mixed with a bit of warning. “What do you want me to do? Arrange a therapy session between you two?”
ldquo;No, sir. I want you to open your eyes.” Alfred braced himself for the worst part absolutely hating having to be the bearer of ugly truths but he had a painful lesson on the price of evading them which is why he squared his shoulders and plunged on. “You both spent the last few years living the ideal life as besotted new parents, travelling the world. You know Selina the mother, the lover, the traveler, but what do you know about Selina Kyle of Gotham? The woman who once had an extensive criminal record?”
Bruce didn’t answer so Alfred pressed on. “I want you to ask Ms. Kyle where she is spending her nights when you are away.”
Bruce stared at him in shock before defensive anger settled over his features. “Where are you getting this? She wouldn’t leave ‘Lena. You’re letting your dislike of her get the better of you.”
“Isha spends a lot of nights here when you are away,” Alfred replied. “The last time you were away, Ms. Kyle left every night you were gone and did not return until early in the morning.”
ruce turned away. “I’ll deal with this when I get back on Thursday,” he said, quietly
Alfred handed him his garment bag. Without looking back at him, Bruce left but returned a few moments later to assure Alfred he wasn’t angry with him. That was yesterday.
This morning, less than twenty-four hours after their discussion, Alfred had not been terribly surprised to see Bruce back at home. He carried Helena down the staircase, holding her upside down and tickling her like it was a normal morning. Alfred followed them to the kitchen where Bruce sat Helena on the expansive granite counter while he got her something to eat. The mood was light until Ms. Kyle walked in and though there was no outward change in Bruce’s demeanor Alfred felt the mood shift instantly
Selina was all smiles and kisses for Helena but neither Bruce nor Selina looked at each other once. They put on a good show for their daughter who, at three years of age, should be and was oblivious to parental strife.
When Bruce prepared to leave for the office, he carried Helena to the elevator for their customary goodbye routine then as she reached for her mother, Bruce and Selina’s eyes met, Bruce’s darkening as if facing a threat, a warning clear in his expression.
“What are you doing?” Alfred asked Selina less than fifteen minutes later as she gathered Helena and Isha, ushering them to the elevator.
“Taking Isha home. Is that ok with you?” She looked tired and tense and Alfred realized she’d worn that same look for months. “We’ll be back by naptime.”
Naptime was hours ago and that look that he observed between Bruce and Selina haunted him. The expression on Bruce’s face was one he hoped never to see again. He looked down at his watch and winced to see that it was now almost three
hanti appeared, shyly handing him the wastebasket from the master bedroom, averting her eyes. Inside was the shattered remains of Selina’s cell phone. Alfred thought again of the hostile look that had passed between Bruce and Selina and wondered if the broken phone was a message from Ms. Kyle.
Shanti’s eyes widened and with a respectful nod quickly disappeared. Alfred took a moment to compose himself before he turned to face Bruce whom he knew was approaching.
“Where’s Selina?” Bruce asked tersely, the anger showing on his face the reason for Shanti’s quick exit. He started up the staircase to Helena’s room which, if she were here, is where she would be napping or playing at this time of day. “Her car’s not downstairs.”
ldquo;I don’t know, sir,” Alfred responded. “Helena’s not here either.”
That stopped Bruce. He turned to face Alfred giving him a grim look.
“They haven’t been here all day. I spoke with Isha and she confirmed they dropped her off this morning around eight. I checked for accidents and there’s nothing…” He shrugged his shoulders in a helpless gesture.
Bruce stared at him for a few moments, his deepening anger evident in the narrowing of his eyes. He reached for his phone.
“I’ve been calling but…” Alfred showed him the smashed phone.
Bruce sighed, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “I forgot about that.”
“Beg pardon, sir?”
“I did that,” he responded quietly and Alfred wondered again what had happened the night before. Whatever it was, he feared it was bad enough that Bruce was under the impression Selina may have taken the child and left.
“For what it’s worth, and I may not be Ms. Kyle’s biggest supporter, she wouldn’t just take her and leave you forever.” Whatever Alfred felt for Ms. Kyle, he could not deny her consuming love for her daughter and, up to now, he never considered that she would do anything to remove the child from the love and safety of her father.
“Wouldn’t she?” Bruce asked. “As you reminded me earlier, I really don’t know anything about her other than she is a thief.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.&rdquo
The doorman signaled from the lobby announcing they had guests.
“I’ll take care of it, sir,” Alfred said unnecessarily as he walked to the monitor to see who dared show up at this very inopportune time.
nervous looking young blonde woman appeared on the screen. Then Helena’s face appeared and Alfred quickly summoned them to come up, calling out to Bruce.
When the elevator doors opened, Helena rushed to her father, her face and hands sticky with the remains of chocolate ice cream.
“And you are…?” Alfred asked the young woman who looked around the foyer with awe.
“Jenn, right?” Bruce said, holding Helena tightly unmindful of her sticky hands on his clothes.
“Yes. Hello,” she said without smiling, and gave them a look, indicating she wanted to speak but not in front of Helena.
Bruce called out for Shanti, asking in Hindi for her to get Helena cleaned up. He handed his daughter to Shanti with a kiss and another tight hug.
“Where is she?” Bruce demanded as soon as Helena was out of earshot.
“I don’t know.” Jenn looked at him helplessly. “She was supposed to be back hours ago. I’m worried. I’ve been calling her and calling her but… So after the kid woke up from her nap, I came here.”
“Where was she going?”
“I don’t know. She doesn’t tell me.”
“Doesn’t? This isn’t the first time?”
“I’ve been watching Helena a couple mornings a week.”
“And you don’t know where she goes?”
Jenn shrugged. “She just said not to concern myself with it.”
Bruce stared at her for a few moments before asking, “Who is she with?”
She averted her gaze from him, looking guilty. “No one,” she said unconvincingly
Bruce pressed her, looking angry and dangerous.
“I don’t know! I swear! She drops Helena off at my place then leaves. I gotta go. Tell her to call me when she gets in, ok?”
She started to leave then paused and said to Alfred: “She usually gives me something for watching Helena. It’s not like I’m charging but…it’s helpful.”
Alfred gave her the only cash he had: a fifty
After she left, he turned to see Bruce scrolling through his phone.
ldquo;What is it?” Alfred asked when Bruce became still, his face losing all expression.
Bruce checked his watch. “A text from three hours ago from an anonymous phone: ‘352 Riverside. Help!’ ”
The address was in the warehouse district across the river outside of central Gotham.
“With afternoon traffic, it’ll be 45 minutes. If you’re lucky,” Alfred called out as Bruce played voice mail messages on his speaker phone, deleting the inconsequential calls he often received.
The fourth message stopped him cold. When Selina’s weak, defeated voice came through, Bruce looked up and met Alfred’s distressed gaze.
“Bruce…I’m sorry…I didn’t…They killed him…I’m so sorry…Tell Helena…” Her voice trailed off then silence. The last sound on the message was the clatter of the phone falling.
On his way out, Bruce hung up then made a call and when that one wasn’t answered, quickly made another. As the doors to the elevator closed, he told Alfred to find Jim Gordon.
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