"I called Northwestern today as you asked, Master Bruce," Alfred said as he pressed the ice pack to his ward's arm.
"And?"
"Ms. Kyle was indeed a former student, graduated with distinction two years ago," he finished.
Bruce sighed and fixed his gaze on the grandfather clock behind his butler. "Still, something's not right about her."
Selina was stalking Crime Alley for reasons unknown. These were not the expected actions of a socialite in Gotham. What investment could a woman who had everything have in the Lower East Side?
"You're right," Alfred continued, unperturbed. "I also called Ms. Kyle's alma mater for her undergraduate. Gotham University has no record of a Selina Kyle graduating within the last 15 years."
Bruce sat up straighter and waited for his butler to finish.
"After a little persuasion, and ensuring a Wayne Enterprises donation would be coming their way, I asked the registrar to do some digging for alumni who proceeded to Northwestern, and this revealed that a Selina Graves attended their institution until 2001."
Bruce stood decidedly and proceeded to the piano to call up the elevator to the Cave. "Time to do some digging on Ms. Graves."
At the new computer system he had relocated from the downtown hideout, he began by going through state birth records. Selina had no reason to lie about her beginnings in the city, so he took it on good faith that she was indeed "Gotham born and raised". In fact, he wasn't even sure if her name change was an attempt to evade or obscure a shady past, as sometimes was the case.
"Let's start at the beginning," he said quietly, to no one in particular.
Selina Graves was born in the Lower East End, 33 years prior, to Brian Graves and Maria Kyle. The birth certificate revealed the parents were unmarried at the time of Selina's birth. On a hunch, Bruce ran the parents' names through the citizen database to find Maria Kyle had been institutionalized several times before and after the birth of her daughter for manic-depressiveness, while the father had been in and out of county jail for everything from minor battery charges to petty theft. The charges ended abruptly in 1992, which Bruce investigated further.
"Oh my," came Alfred's hushed voice.
Murder-Suicide on Lower East End, read the excerpt of the Gotham Post reel that was illuminated brightly on the LCD screen in front of them.
Brian Donald Graves, unemployed, was found deceased after sustaining a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. It has determined Graves took his own life after gunning down his girlfriend, Maria Kyle, aged 30, in their shared apartment off 142nd street. Neighbours say the couple was known for having loud and sometimes violent altercations. Their daughter, age 13, has been handed over to child services...
"Selina," he breathed quietly as he stood, shaken. He began making his way back upstairs, deciding he had had enough of the night.
Alfred strode quickly after him, and put a hand on his back to stop him. However, he remained quiet, knowing Bruce all too well.
"A blurb in one newspaper, Alfred," he said, defeated. "And what happened to her after that?"
His butler squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "Don't feel guilty, Master Bruce..."
"Seems not everyone is lucky enough to be born a Wayne," Bruce said, defeated, echoing the words of the women he was just beginning to know.
Selina threw her clutch to her couch and leaned against the island in the kitchen, fuming. No matter which social ladders she seemed to climb, it was seemingly never enough. She had been denied entry into Club V, and Selina was not accustomed to being refused. She had pulled all the stops, worn a low cut teal cocktail dress that showed off the curves and legs and skin, but the bouncers were not having any of it. The guest list was especially exclusive that night since it was some rich heiress' birthday party. Just to irk her further, she found out the brat, set to inherit the Hayes Chemical fortune, had reserved the club every night for a week to celebrate her 30th.
Now more than ever, she felt the black sheep in the crowd of wealthy socialites.
For a moment, Selina considered prowling. A late night excursion would do her some good, since she had been cooped up in her apartment after Holly had arrived. Finally, she had moved the girl into a mid-range hotel several blocks from her place, and had gotten her a volunteer position at GMAM, tending to the records department. She told her it might eventually lead to a paid position as a clerk.
As attractive as the option of donning the cat suit was, she knew another night passed was another night wasted, and this lead was her only chance in proceeding further in the case. With some contemplation, she grabbed her cell phone. After calling Darcy briefly, she had the information she needed, and dialled a second number.
"Bruce? It's Selina," she said, giving herself a once over in the hallway mirror.
A pause, unexpected. "How are you, Selina?"
After some self-examination, she tossed her tousled hair behind her shoulder. "Lonely, actually," she replied lightly.
"Oh," came the less than enthusiastic reply. "Sorry to hear that."
What had gotten into him? The man usually seemed eager to garner her attention and was incredibly flirtatious company. Perhaps their last encounter had been a little lacklustre, and she immediately regretted her subdued demeanour.
"Listen, I'm sorry about what happened in Metropolis and I was hoping to make it up to you," she continued evenly. "Please say you'll give a girl some company tonight."
"What did you have in mind?" he asked, his voice edged with hesitation.
"How does Club V sound?"
Selina exited the Lamborghini, and was nearly blinded by the onslaught of paparazzi flashes in the rotunda in front of the club.
Bruce's hand rested lightly on her waist as he guided her to the front of the line, which had become exponentially larger since Selina's visit two hours prior. She did not envy the patrons at the back of the queue. She shot a smug look at the gargantuan bouncer who had denied her earlier, and the man stepped back begrudgingly as Bruce slipped past the entrance enclave easily.
"Are you alright?" he asked before they went into the large lounge beyond. She could feel the bass of the music reverberate through her bones even before the entered.
"Lucky I'm not epileptic," she laughed gently, looping her arm through his. "I'd ask if you wanted a drink, but, you know..."
Bruce smiled wearily as they entered the dimly lit room beyond. "Don't let me stop you."
The glass walls glowed an array of colours to the beat of the steady dance music, and it smelled of sweet perfume and booze, which covered the underlying scent of the writhing bodies on the dance floor. They went to a private booth in the corner, while several heads turned in their direction to catch a glimpse of Bruce.
"I really am sorry about last time," she decided to begin, raising her voice slightly over the din of the music and chatter around them.
A man dressed in full white came by to take their bottle service orders, and Selina ordered a mid-priced bottle of wine, for propriety's sake, she told herself.
"You never told me what happened," Bruce replied, draping his arm across the back of their booth as he inched towards her.
"It really doesn't matter," she smirked, evading the topic. Their drinks arrived, and Selina took a sip from her glass, despite her partner's abstinence. "Ah, pinot, my biggest vice. I don't know how you do it, Bruce."
"Sometimes I ask myself the same question," he replied, watching her steadily, his eyes unnervingly penetrating.
She shifted to face him fully, uncomfortable by his shifting demeanour. "Are you alright?"
Then came the practiced grin, and he let his hand rest on her knee steadily. "Yeah, of course."
She narrowed her eyes for a moment, leaning in close to his ear to be heard above the new, louder music. "Just making sure, handsome. I'll be right back."
Selina went the long way to the lady's room, taking her time to pass the bar where several solitary patrons were sipping at their drinks. Club V was so exclusive that nearly all the customers were regulars, at least to some extent. She tried to match several of the men as the plausible suspect, based upon what Holly had told her about the man's build and demeanour. Twice, she was approached by high-rollers looking for some company, and when she finally did emerge from the ladies room, a particularly forceful gentlemen looped his hand around her wrist and yanked her to the side of the dance floor.
She spun around to berate the newcomer, and was surprised to see Bruce had slipped behind her. She needed more time alone, and wished again that she could have gotten into the club herself. Before she could open her mouth to spew out another lie and traipse away, he led her by the arm off the dance floor.
"Wanting to leave so soon?" she asked.
"Someone's watching you," Bruce said. "We should go."
"Everyone's watching us," she waved him off, though her eyes scanned the room around them, interest peaked.
"No," Bruce asserted. "He's been watching since you left the booth, that's why I followed you."
And Selina saw him, at the bar adjacent, sipping on a gin and tonic. He was rather short, 5'8" maybe, slim build, bald. He was wearing newly pressed grey slacks, and smart collared shirt. Entirely indistinguishable from the crowd in Club V. His eyes were dark, and his skin was a pale, almost translucent, white.
"Do you know him?" she asked, certain she didn't recognize him from Gotham's social elite.
"No."
"Bruce!" Jennifer the model had appeared from nowhere, brows furrowed as she glanced at Selina.
"You never called," she began, placing an arm on Bruce's shoulder, ignoring Selina pointedly.
Bruce opened his mouth to reply, trying to push past the woman, but Selina thanked the good fortune and took the opportunity to slip away and approached the bar, hoping to disappear behind the crowd. Bruce Wayne would have to wait for now.
She kept an eye on the bald man through the corner of her eye, and suddenly, he melted into the crowd. Selina tried to follow him, but the continuously shifting bodies made it impossible to know which way he had gone. She made rounds to try to catch him again, but was disappointed to find him nowhere. Instead, she exited the lounge and found herself facing the bouncer once more.
"Excuse me," she greeted confidently, placing a hand on her hip. "I'm an event coordinator for Wayne enterprises, and they're about to engage in a rather strategic corporate move with Hayes Chemical. I was asked to take a look at the guest list, you know, for future reference."
The bouncer stared at her and adjusted the sunglasses on his face. "Guest list is confidential."
She laughed, feigning nonchalance. "I'm not sure you understand, Mr. Wayne himself-"
"I don't care if the Queen of England asks for the guest list, lady. Confidential," he said, adjusted his suit as he turned away.
Selina stalked away, but spotted the "employees only" room and slipped in, hoping no one had spotted her. She checked out two of the back rooms, one of which was a broom closet, and the other an office, complete with the closed circuit security footage of the club. She first palmed the disc that sat in the security footage tray and then began to peruse the large desktop on the side. It was unlocked, and she smiled, grateful for whichever lazy caretaker had done this.
Cleaning schedules, overnight events and bookings, and finally, guest lists. She quickly printed off the lists for the last two weeks, rolled the papers up and exited hastily. She ran headlong into Bruce as she closed the employee door behind her.
He had his hands in his pockets, characteristically casual, it seemed. "Selina?"
She grabbed his hand and pulled him bodily out of the club. "I've had enough . Can you give me a ride?"
"Yeah, of course," he said, eyeing the papers in her fist.
Selina began to lead him out of the building. The bouncer who she had antagonized twice now eyed her with brazen suspicion, but she paid him no regard as they left.
TBC
