Tut the Magnificent…
Summary: A little reimagining of supervillain King Tut. A young genius, protégé of Gotham's prime benefactor, Bruce Wayne, distraught at the suffering in a place his hero Batman never deigns to frequent, has decided to help his people help themselves.
Part XI...
Thirteen years previous…
Hamilton Central Police Station…
Alfred, opening the rear door of the car to let young Henry Tuthill out, looked a bit grimly around the battered street. Downtown Hamilton, such as it was, a collection of boarded up, burnt-out, or barely occupied, older office buildings, a motley collection of homeless wandering about, even to the steps of the police station, a large, grimly gray concrete building at the head of the once rather elegant now battered and garbage-strewn central plaza, with rather poorly maintained statue of city namesake Alexander Hamilton in center. Wayne emerging from his side in front, likewise looking round.
"Doesn't look like the best place to park a Lexus…" he wryly noted. "But…"
"There's a parking garage over there. I'll pull the car in while you take young Master Henry in."
"Maybe we oughta go with you, Alfred." Bruce winced at the sight of two homeless men fighting across the street. A cop watching them, amused at the sight…
"I'll be quite all right. I'm sure Master Henry wants to see his sister and mother as soon as possible."
Henry eyeing Bruce, shaking head…
"I think we can go together Alfred." Bruce urged.
"Gentlemen. I may be an older man, but I assure you both…" Alfred smiled at Henry… "I can handle myself for two blocks. Now, please…Go in and I'll be with you shortly."
"It'll be ok, Henry. Lets go." Bruce nodded.
Henry reluctantly taking his hand, they crossed the street.
"He'll be fine. Alfred's a tough old bird. I pity anyone who tries to tangle with him." Bruce noted, with wry smile, as Henry looked back to the car now pulling out. "He's an old soldier, my dad hired him as our security chief and estate manager mainly because of his military record."
Henry nodded. Another nervous look back…
"My granddad was pretty tough, too… He was in the Navy, a long time ago."
"I am sorry, Henry. But Alfred's very experienced and ready for any surprises, I promise you."
"Ok…Will they let us see Pam?" anxious look at the large ornate wood and glass door at the top of the stairs before them. The beauty of the door marred by the various paints splattered on the antique glass and the heavy dents and scrapings years of violent attacks on the door had left on the carved wooden frame…
"Ms. Redman's in there now in back with the police, getting some things done, she'll bring us to her."
They walked up the stairs…Henry pausing…
"She said they'd keep her, tonight." He eyed Bruce.
"It might be the best thing for her, but lets see…"
"I don't want her to be alone…Or with bad people…"
"She won't be, we'll make sure someone's with her and that she's safe in a good place."
"Thanks."
"Sure." They entered a large reception hall with several desks, some occupied, others empty…A few civilians seated on benches and several cops scattered about eyeing them with interest. Wayne leading Henry to a desk where a seated officer had waved him over.
"Bruce Wayne, I'm supposed to meet the family services director here…Iris Redman?" he addressed a desk officer regarding him.
"She's in back, talking with the Chief." The officer, a woman in her forties, told him, glancing at Henry beside him. "Have a seat and I'll have her paged."
"Thanks…Come on, Henry." Wayne led him over as the officer spoke into a phone. The same cops who'd eyed them on arrival still watching them as they sat. One grinning to another, poking him slightly.
Wayne frowning as a large, well-built older man in casual, but clearly expensive, sweater and slacks, clothes strode over to them from the other side of the room where he'd stood, making a cell call.
The spitting image of Dean Wormer of "Animal House" as always, Bruce thought, straightening to meet the approaching Jackson Jensen, Sr. head on.
"Wayne…Slumming tonight, I see." Jensen, offering a large hand which Wayne shook coolly.
"Jensen. Just bringing my friend Henry here to see his sister."
"Yes." Jensen eyed Henry briefly. "The girl's brother."
"Archibald Tuthill's grandson." Bruce noted quietly.
"Of course. How are you, son?" Jensen addressed Henry, fake hearty tone, offering hand which Henry took reluctantly.
"It's a damned shame about your grandfather…But I'll take care of everything, don't worry." Jensen insisted. "Wayne, a moment? Son, I need to speak with Mr. Wayne, could you wait here?" he indicated a bench.
"I don't want to leave…" Wayne began, Henry looking at him anxiously, as Alfred suddenly entered, calmly regarding them all, immediately sensing a confrontation and moving to support.
"Master Bruce, all's secure. Master Henry?" Alfred a bit startled as Henry ran to him, hugging. "It's all right, dear boy." He patted Henry gently on shoulder.
"Alfred, could you stay with Henry just a minute? The officer there's called Iris Redman, she should be here shortly. Jack here and I need to speak a moment." Bruce eyed Alfred, careful look as Jensen eyed both men.
"Of course. Henry, why don't we sit and await Ms. Redman over by the desk? Perhaps she'll choose to call there first." Alfred suggested, Henry eagerly nodding. They went off to the duty desk, Henry holding Alfred's firm hand.
"Jack?"
"Why are you here, Wayne?" Jensen, sternly. "With that boy?"
"I told you, I'm bringing Henry in to see his sister. I might ask the same of you."
"I'll take charge of these children…You can leave the boy with me."
"And why would I do that?"
"Wayne. This involves my son, as I'm sure you know. If you have something in mind here…"
"Just to see these kids are safe, Jack."
"Then…Mission Accomplished. Have a good evening." Jensen, slight sneer.
"I'm not leaving these kids in your hands, Jensen. The only witnesses to what your son did…"
"Jack did not kill that old man!" Jensen hissed, tersely…Some heat in his voice.
"The police think different."
"That tramp of a daughter…" Jensen sputtered. Wayne, coldly insistent look, leading him farther from the center of the room, to a quieter corner. Henry and Alfred now seated on bench next to the duty desk.
"Your son's girl…Mistress? Though it's news to me to hear you speaking of having a son. You've never mentioned him that I know of."
"You're cute, Wayne." Jensen, grimly. "What is this? Blackmail? Lets be upfront here."
"It's about two kids who just witnessed a horrible thing and have no one…"
"I'll take charge of them. Jack was concerned with their mother for some time, yes…Hell, he could be their father for all I know…"
"No, he wasn't. Their father died in prison in California a few years ago. Listen, Jack…I couldn't care less about you or your son whatever you think but I won't let these kids suffer, particularly at your hands just because they witnessed your son acting like an animal…"
Jensen flushing angrily…
"The boy says he didn't harm the man! If these brats are claiming he did….Probably to protect that tramp…That addict…"
"Whom your son lived with for some time…During his less than illustrious career…" Wayne, calmly. "Jack, I mean what I said. I don't care about you or your son…That's for the police. But these kids…"
"They'll be fine in my care, Wayne. What, you think I'd harm them?"
"Terrorize to give whatever testimony you want, yes."
"I ought to punch you right in the mouth, you effete son of a bitch!" Jensen glared, tensing.
"Bad place to do it…"
"Actually…" Jensen sneered, looking round. "This stinkhole of a town is probably the best place…"
"Maybe…" Wayne tensed… "But I have better PR and more money to buy more lawyers." He noted.
Jensen eyed him…Calming…
"All I want is to see these kids safe, Jack. That's all. This is no ploy against you or Jensen, Inc."
"So you say…" Jensen looked at him. "Fine, the great liberal do-gooder Bruce Wayne wants to save the…Children. Very nice…Looks good on the front page. Where are the reporters to document your philanthropy, by the way?"
"Frankly, I'm surprised they're not here, interviewing you and Jack Jr."
"I have a few friends in the media…And the police here are easily bought to keep quiet. As are the mayor, city council, most of the social services…" mocking smile. "Unless you want a bidding war…I'd back off. Jensen does have a footprint here and I can offer an expansion fairly quickly. Jobs and tax revenue long term are sure to appeal to the greedy leeches here."
"If the publicity's all that matters to you…And I can see why you'd want to keep this quiet for Jen as well as Jensen, Inc…Let me get the kids settled and you'll find it a lot easier…"
"And what about my boy?" Jensen, grimly. Eyeing Wayne carefully… "I see. You think this is all about the publicity. The damage to my business. And of course to Jen, which does matter to me… Well, Bruce." Grim smile. "Screw the fucking publicity. If it'll save my boy, I'll gladly have every reporter in Gotham down here tonight."
Wayne stared…
"Surprised, eh? I kept my son hidden, like a secret shame…That what you think?"
Bruce sighed… "Honestly, Jack. I don't know what to think."
"His mother, the Tee-Vee star…" Jensen sneered. "Was no good, of course…She took all she could and got out after I made it clear I wanted a wife and a mother for my children, not a trophy and model to display part-time. But she couldn't be satisfied with taking all she could financially, she wanted the boy too. Not for any reason except so that she could forever use him to go on milking me, you can be sure. I managed to keep partial custody, and despite all she'd gotten to agree to that, she decided to do everything she could to make him hate me. And believe I'd rejected him rather than done all I could to keep him mine. Vindictive as well as greedy, charming combination…"
Sigh…
"He hated me, understandably…Not only for what she'd done to poison him for me, but I was hard with him. Because I wanted him to be my son…To take over one day. So I was hard with him. You have no children, or so I've always heard?" careful stare.
"No. Though Dick Grayson was a son to me."
"Then you may be able to understand…I love that boy, whatever he may think, but I lost him…Partly to his mother, partly to my own efforts to make him my son. He broke from me and lived, as he has. I supported him, against my own principles, and not in the style to which he'd become accustomed, but I couldn't abandon him." Jensen shook head. "I always hoped, once he'd got it out of his system…If I could have another chance… But, he sank lower and lower, probably in reaction to me, and in the end I couldn't do anything to get him back. I turned to Jen as my successor. She'd always wanted it anyway, though I'd tried to leave a place for Jack." Sigh… "She's all I could hope for in a son…And something of a monster as a daughter… But now…After I'd convinced myself I'd cut him loose, that I'd never see him again, never lift another finger to help him outside the little I'd seen he'd get, to keep him alive…" shaking head. "Here I am…And all I know is, my boy is in danger…And I have to save him." An anxious look, under the grim stare…
"I'm sorry, Jack." Wayne eyed him. "But you can't protect him by silencing the kids."
"I wouldn't hurt them, whatever you think of me, Wayne. The mother, perhaps…She's a tramp and help lead my boy to this…" Almost pleading look now. "He swears he didn't kill Tuthill, he was dead when he arrived, he just picked up the knife in his confusion and tried to move the body…Bruce. I believe him. And I won't let him fry for that woman."
"You think Anna killed Tuthill." Bruce eyed him.
"I don't really care. But yes, very likely. She was an addict, a whore, whom yes, Jack pimped round, and fought with Tuthill before. Charming daughter, eh? Made to order, far as I'm concerned." His face no longer angry red but suddenly ashen…
"You find it hard to believe that I'd try to save a son like that…A pimp, a drug dealer…?" cold smile. "Not exactly the image the world has of me, eh?"
"I've no idea what I'd do in the same situation…If it were my son…" Wayne regarded him.
"All right, suppose we come to terms…" Jensen waved a hand. "The children probably aren't Jack's as you say so I've no great desire to them, only that they not condemn him to save their mother. You say you want to help them. Well, to help them you'll have to help my boy." Jensen, firmly.
"And just what 'help' did you have in mind? I can't get him off a murder charge…"
"It won't be murder if there are no witnesses." Jensen noted, sharp-eyed stare. "If the children say they saw nothing…Well, the mother is an addict, there's no direct proof. The court will be lenient…Manslaughter at worse. Jack will only say what he knows…Tit for tat."
"And if the boy did kill Professor Tuthill?"
"I said I believe him." Jensen, firmly. "Jack's many things but not a murderer. It's far more likely the mother, she hated the man, from what Jack says and what I've dug up on her. Well?"
"Henry says he didn't see his grandfather murdered…" Bruce paused.
"Excellent. That only leaves the girl, another addict."
"Barely a teen, hooked by your son, Henry says. To get her out on the street."
"You say you want to help these children. Why, your business…" Jensen, calmly. "But if you want to avoid exposing them to scandal…Not to mention life with me and my daughter, which you no doubt would consider a grim fate…"
"Your son says nothing that would incriminate Ms. Tuthill…"
"He saw nothing, like your boy…" shrug. "Fine by me. The Sherlocks here will no doubt finger her on circumstantial evidence. Given the extent of her addiction and the sort of lawyers you and I can afford…I'm quite willing to go halves here…We should probably be able to get her off with a light sentence, perhaps just a rehab detention."
"I speak to Jack first." Bruce insisted.
Jensen, slight sneering chuckle. "Saint Bruce needs but look into the eyes and can tell the sinner from victim."
"Jack's no victim regardless. But I want to meet him."
"Just what good would that do? Ease your conscience?" Jensen regarded him.
"Yes, if I find myself believing him…" Bruce nodded. "You want me to help save your boy. That's my price. That and no interference with the Tuthill children, from you or Jack, now and in the future. And I'll take care of the mother, see that she gets legal help and rehab."
"Fine." Jensen agreed. "But I expect a deal even if you don't agree with me about the boy, Wayne."
"You'll have one." Bruce nodded.
"Really? Even if you have doubts?"
"There's no hard evidence but the knife and Jack's presence. The lawyers you could hire would get him off. But they'd make life hell for the children. And it's already been and will be enough hell for them."
"All right then. I'll have us taken in to the boy." Jensen nodded. "Thanks."
…..
Holding cell within the station's small jail…
"Bruce Wayne?" I move in rarified circles these days…" cynical look from the tall, slim man, aged about thirty, eyeing him.
"Jack."
"Jackson, Mr. Wayne…As in, son of Jack. I'm the Crown Prince, you know." Jack, Jr., wan grin. "Eh, Dad?" he eyed Jensen standing next to Wayne outside the cell.
"Don't talk nonsense, boy." Jensen frowned, but some anxiety in tone. "Wayne's agreed to help me get you out of this."
"There's nothing to get me 'out' of, 'Dad'…" Jack Jr. frowned. "I didn't kill that ole fool."
"So your father tells me…" Wayne regarded him calmly.
"Dear ole 'Dad', always there for me." Jack Jr. nodded. "Is Anna ok?"
"It's better if you stop asking about her, son." Jensen, rather surprisingly gently.
"The hell with you…" Jack Jr. glared. "Is she ok?" he addressed Wayne.
"About what you'd expect…" Wayne noted. "Strung out, hysterical, so far as I know though getting decent care…You're lucky. She can barely manage a coherent sentence. You're sure to have no problem pinning this on her."
"Wayne…You son of a bitch." Jensen, grimly, turning on him.
"She couldn't have done it." Jack Jr insisted… "She could barely get out of bed these last two days."
"Someone did…" Bruce, coldly. "Unless you're insisting he fell on his own knife."
"I didn't. And I doubt she did. What more do you want me to say…Bruce?" sneer.
"That's enough. It'll do." Wayne nodded. "You're either a very good liar or you're actually trying to protect her, a little…A very little… All right, Jensen…" he turned to Jensen, Sr. "I'll do what I can, so long as you keep up your end. And neither of you ever sees the Tuthill children."
"Fine…Jack? You agree?" Jensen eyed his son.
"I've no great interest in Anna's rats…" Jack Jr. smiled. "But I need to hear that Anna will be ok?" he eyed both men.
"I mean, I might wanna make her legit one day…Eh, Dad?" grin.
…
Wayne emerged from the cell area to the main reception hall alone to find Iris Redman with Alfred and Henry…
"Mr. Wayne…" she nodded to him.
"Understand you've met Mr. Jensen, Jr….And Sr." sardonic look.
"Hmmn-hmmn. How's Pamela? And Mrs. Tuthill?"
"Both well as can be expected." Ms. Redman nodded.
"Can I see Pam?" Henry asked.
"I don't think so, not tonight, Henry." Ms. Redman shook head. "She's sleeping. But she's in a hospital room and she's being well looked after. Your mom too. I swear." She beamed.
He nodded…Then looked at Bruce…
"Any chance we could just look in on her…The sister…Just for a moment?" Wayne tried.
Ms. Redman sighed. Stepping back a bit, clearly intending for Wayne to follow which he did.
"It's a safe place but not really a place for the boy to see…At least on the night shift." she hissed. "She's got her own room but they've handcuffed her."
"She's not a suspect?" Wayne asked.
"Routine procedure for this sort of situation, my husband says." She shrugged. "I think I can get her out tomorrow, to any place you can find but tonight it's probably for the best. She'll be all right. The mother's there too…She'll be charged, tomorrow, as I told you."
He nodded and stepped back to where Henry waited with Alfred.
"Henry, the doctors prefer to keep Pam and your mom sleeping. I think we'd better see them tomorrow. Ok?"
"Ok." He sighed. "But tomorrow?"
"Soon as they open…Ms. Redman?" Wayne turned to Iris who smiled and nodded.
"Sure. I'll arrange it. Well, Henry…" she eyed the boy. "You want to stay with Mr. Wayne tonight? I can take you to my house if you prefer?"
"No. Thank you." Henry shook head. "I'd like to stay with Mr. Wayne and Mr. Alfred."
"Ok, then. Well…I'm going to find my husband and get on home. I'll call you tomorrow, Mr. Wayne." Ms. Redman nodded to Wayne.
"Thanks for everything…" he smiled, offering a hand which she shook.
"We may yet regret this…" she grinned. "Still…What the hell…Henry, you have a good night and get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Good night." Henry nodded, she waving as she headed back through to the rear of the station.
"Well, lets be off…You two both should be in bed." Alfred insisted.
"Sounds good. Henry, you hungry? I know a take-out place where we can pick up a burger on our way." Wayne suggested.
"Better if I prepare something…" Alfred shook head. "Far too late for fat and salt with a little protein."
"No better time, this…" Wayne grinned. "And you're off duty…Come on, Alfred. You like their milkshakes…Lets go, guys."