***Warning: If any aspect of sex trafficking is upsetting to you, read no further. This chapter goes to some pretty dark places.***
After Midnight in the Underworld of Gotham
Retracing Selina's steps, Bruce descends into Gotham's seedy underworld.
Gotham: The present
Nighttime in a bad area of Gotham; it was a very familiar feeling to Bruce. But instead of perching on top of a tall building using high tech surveillance gadgetry to watch over the city, he was street level, using the most low-tech of surveillance tools. His eyes took in every little detail of the city block - from the newly stained sidewalk in front of the strip club, to the dealers and hustlers ambling from one corner of the block to the other.
Once again, Selina's Camaro blended perfectly with the neighborhood and drew no undue attention. Bruce, however, did attract attention. A small group of prostitutes kept eyeing him. Every few minutes, a different one would wander over to inquire if he was looking for a date. After the fourth such inquiry, the women hanging around the street corner seemed to get the message that he was not buying anything they had to sell.
Feeling their curious eyes upon him, Bruce settled back in the seat, waiting for John Blake and Selina's friend, Bobby, to emerge from The Palace. He allowed Blake to take the lead in the questioning as keeping a low profile was preferable to all involved, including the woman they sought. Everyone else who had made an appearance in the security video found by Detective Massey had met a bad end. Or almost.
With his mind's eye, Bruce replayed the few seconds where the man had held a gun to Selina's head. Over and over, he saw the slight tilt of her chin as stared down the dealer, challenging him. She had put her life in that man's hands. Why? Why hadn't she kicked the gun away as Bruce knew she could easily do? Why the hell was she there? What was she playing at? His anger rose as the image of the gun swirled in his head.
It had also not escaped his attention that the incident had taken place a few short hours before his and Selina's terrible fight. Now he understood why she'd been raw with him. On edge from the harrowing encounter and rattled from Bruce surprising her, Selina had felt backed into a corner. When cornered, she couldn't help but fight like hell. For his part, if he had known then what he knew now, that Selina had been at a dangerous drug dealer's house where one of said dealer's men had pointed a loaded gun at her, Bruce would have been even more furious than he had been.
His phone vibrated. Perfect timing - his temper lightened as he looked at the photo Shanti texted him. Helena was cozy in bed with Shanti's two young children whose ages were on either side of Helena's. His daughter's excited, carefree grin was a balm to his dark mood. She was having a good time, forgetting about her mother's absence. Shanti had been correct that a fun distraction was what she needed. Another photo followed, this one of Mr. Tibbles with a bright green scarf tied around his head, Helena leaning her face next to his as he licked her cheek. Bruce couldn't help but smile as he stared at the happy photo. Until he remembered just how close Helena had come to losing her mother.
Leave it to the police, Alfred had advised. You're too close to this one. But Alfred had not seen the video. Unbidden, the image of the gun to her head came back to Bruce, but this time, the trigger was pulled and Selina crumpled to the floor.
Bruce rubbed his eyes, forcing himself to not imagine Selina dead by gunshot. He returned his attention to the low rise building that housed The Palace. A name that in no way fit the atmosphere of the establishment. The place was an eyesore in every way imaginable and the clientele weren't any better. It wasn't the kind of place guys went to for bachelor parties, or for inane male bonding activities. It was...well, Bruce couldn't figure out why anyone would frequent such a decrepit looking place.
A woman emerged onto the fire escape from a third floor window. Bruce hurriedly exited the Camaro, dodging the light traffic as he darted across the street. By the time the woman jumped down, he was there, blocking her exit out of the dark alley.
"Excuse me," he called out.
She jumped in surprise. Seeing him, she slowly backed away, glancing behind her to figure out where to run.
Bruce then realized how it must look to her. A man, clearly hiding his face, standing between her and her only means of escape.
"Please," he said softly, tilting his face so he didn't seem so suspicious. He got a good look at her, she wasn't the woman from video. "I'm looking for a woman who works here. I only want to ask her a few questions."
"Roxanne ain't stupid," the woman said, edging back to the building. "She knows what's going on."
"Then she knows she's in danger," Bruce said. "Not from me. I can help her."
"Maybe. Maybe not," she scoffed, looking doubtful. "I don't know where she is anyway."
Her lie wasn't very convincing. As Bruce reached into his jeans pocket, she stiffened, her eyes widening in fear. He held up a hand, hoping to reassure her, while he fished out some cash.
"Like I said, I can keep her safe. I know she's in danger." Bruce scribbled the number of his new burner phone on the hundred dollar bill. "Have her call me. The sooner the better."
She took the bill, glanced at the number. "She split as soon as she heard about Mag Mike."
"Was he a friend of hers?"
She gave him an incredulous look. "She was paid to go there." Duh.
"Who paid her?" Bruce asked.
She hesitated, fear coming back into her eyes. She glanced back toward The Palace then shook her head and shrugged her shoulders.
"This guy bothering you, honey?" A female voice from behind Bruce called out.
Bruce turned around to see the small group of prostitutes behind him, blocking his way out of the alley.
"Yeah he is," she said as she shot him a look before she stuffed the hundred in her bra. She scampered past him to stand behind the hookers.
"I don't want any trouble…" Bruce began.
"Neither do we," said the leader. "How about you get out of here?"
Gladly. Bruce could see past the women where Blake and Bobby were waiting by the car. Blake looked suspiciously like he was laughing.
"Bitches, this is not your side of the street!"
All of their attention turned to the man who emerged from the strip club's back door. Even though it was night, he wore dark sunglasses with a black fedora pulled low on his forehead. He was thronged by two large henchman.
When the women saw who it was, they quickly retreated to their side of the street.
"What the fuck is goin' on out here?" The man bellowed. "Sandy? Get your ass back in here. Drinks don't serve themselves!"
"I'm not doing anything, Larry!" The woman now identified as Sandy called out, fear plain in her voice. "Just out for a smoke and this guy started bothering me."
Larry turned his attention to Bruce. "You botherin' one of my girls? That costs, you know." As he spoke, he reached out to pull Sandy in front of him, he arm closed around her.
Now Bruce had been in a terrible mood for almost a week. Nothing would make him happier than to beat the everlasting shit out of this man. The impulse intensified as he noticed that Larry had 'bitch slapper' tattooed on the back of his hand. For that alone, he needed to have a boot to the face.
Before Bruce could do anything remotely satisfying, one of Larry's guys whispered into Larry's ear. Even though Bruce couldn't see the man's face clearly, it was apparent he was surprised.
"Yeah. He is, isn't he?" Larry said, looking Bruce over. He laughed humorlessly. "Bruce fucking Wayne in my alley. Imagine that! It's a real privilege and honor to have you here. Why don't you come inside and we'll have a drink?"
"No thanks," Bruce said. He could sense John Blake standing behind him.
"Your friend's been asking questions about one of my girls," Larry said, nodding toward Blake. "Roxie's not here but I got plenty for you two to choose from. My girls know how to obey a man. Them uppity bitches across the street - you don't want that."
Sandy's scared eyes silently pleaded with Bruce to leave. He nodded to her, hoping she would contact her friend before her friend ended up dead like so many involved with this case.
"Thanks for the offer, Larry," Bruce said, his voice dripping with condescension and derision. "Another time."
As he and Blake walked away, John gave Larry and his goons a mocking wave. "What a sleaze! I'm going to figure out a way to run that guy out of town."
They approached the car to find an excited Bobby. "I got something! Something real! A friend just called me and told me he saw Ollie and Selina a few weeks ago. They came in asking a bunch of questions. He knows what's going on!"
It was approaching midnight when Bruce, Bobby and John Blake pulled up to a quiet, narrow building in South Point. The street was already lined with cars forcing them to park up the block. The neighborhood was quiet enough but one could sense there was life about, even at this late hour.
Blake was not unfamiliar with the area. While it wasn't exactly crime infested, some of his investigations had taken him here on more than one occasion. The area was populated by shops, bars, and other businesses favored by people who chose to live on the fringe of society. Not exactly criminals but those that certainly liked to keep a low profile.
"So, this guy, Lax, he owns a bar around here?" Blake asked Bobby as they walked past another palm reading shop.
Bobby seemed more subdued than he had earlier in the day. John had spent his afternoon at the hospital with Bobby, DeeDee, and Jessica, getting a completely different picture of Selina. A picture that seemed to explain Bruce Wayne's strong feelings for her. Blake had always held on to the belief that Selina was an unrepentant thief who almost certainly had a part to play in Bruce's disappearance so many years ago so it was difficult to reconcile his perception of Selina to the woman who was so important to a man he regarded highly.
For her part, Jessica reluctantly agreed to not take part in the evening's investigation. Bobby had assured her that answers would not be forthcoming if questions were posed by cops. Everyone associated with this case was the 'don't talk to cops' type. And even though Blake had not been a cop for some time, Bobby said he still smelled like one. Whatever that meant. Jessica agreed but not before extracting a solemn oath from him to keep her in the loop.
"Oh yeah," Bobby said. "Well...not really a bar but a club."
"Like your club?" John asked.
"Um...no." Bobby turned down a small alley then stopped in front of a side door. The alley was dark and would have been scary for anyone other than them.
He touched the doorbell just to the side of a thick steel door.
"So..guys…" Bobby said, as they waited, his tone indicating he was going to talk business. "Lax's place really is...uh...different."
"How different?" Blake asked. "Dangerous different?"
"No...just weird. It can be a little shocking but don't worry, there's no cameras and no one here has any interest in selling stories to tabloids."
At that, Bruce raised a questioning brow.
A slot in the door opened to reveal a menacing pair of eyes, until honing in on Bobby.
"Bobby!" he greeted, friendlier than expected.
"Hey, Milo," Bobby responded. "Lax is expecting us."
The guy nodded, sliding the little door shut. They heard the sound of the steel door being unlocked then it swung open to reveal Milo in his leather and tattooed glory.
"Your friends know the rules?" Milo asked, casting an assessing look at Bruce and John as he motioned them into the small vestibule.
Bobby nodded. "They're not interested in anything except seeing Lax."
"Remember, fellas, no cameras or I'll kick you out. No matter who you're friends with." Milo opened a second steel door, the steady beats of hardcore electronic music filled the small room. Standing aside to let them pass, Milo gave each of them an amused grin, his gaze pausing on Bruce. "I guess I don't have to worry about you taking photos, Mr. Bruce Wayne. Worry not, my rich friend. People don't come here to get recognized. No one takes photos, people respect privacy here."
Bobby led the way through the doorway. The music became louder as they descended a flight of stairs. Toward the bottom, the stairwell took on a bright red glow that only became brighter as they entered the club. When they reached the entrance, Bruce and John paused briefly to take in the sight. Bruce's amused gaze met John's. They were the only ones not wearing masks or leather. Everyone else from the customers to the bartenders were clad in leather or shiny black vinyl outfit with their faces hidden behind an assortment of masks, from ones just over the eyes to ones that covered the entire head.
The place was an assault on the senses. The electronicore music was brutally loud, the red lighting weirdly bright with a strobe effect, and smoke from both legal and illegal sources filled the air.
They walked deeper into the club where a few patrons steadily regarded them, giving John the a distinct feeling of outsiderness. Some of the people were leashed, led around like dogs. Others held whips as they stalked the room. One person was down on all fours acting as a coffee table for a group of people engaged in animated shouting conversation.
They soon reached the back of the club where a door cracked open. A hand quickly beckoned them to come inside. No sooner had Bruce closed the door behind them then a tall, thin man rushed to Bobby, embracing him tightly. Bruce and Blake hung back giving the men time and space to mourn their friend.
"It's my fault! It's all my fault!" Lax cried, after a few moments. His distress and tears were at odds with his physical appearance which would have caused many to cross the street to avoid him. His bald head was covered in tattoos that extended to his face which included numerous piercing. Blake suspected the man was not in his usual uniform, his grief over Oliver keeping his thin muscular body in an unthreatening green track suit. "I told them! Goddammit, I told them!"
It took him a few moments to get calm. His hands still shook as he lit his cigarette. He sat down in a chair in a quieter part of the room. "Oh, Jesus, man, I got them killed."
"Selina's not dead and unless you were in that room, none of this is your fault," Bruce said, softly with kindness.
Lax looked up,seeming to realize that there were more people in the room than just him and Bobby. Bobby made introductions. Lax didn't seem to comprehend who Bruce Wayne was.
"Lax," Bruce said, pulling a chair to sit across from him. "Start from the beginning, please."
After a couple of quick drags of his cigarette, Lax took a deep calming breath. "So Ollie calls to talk to me about pornographers."
"When was that?"
Lax took another deep drag as he thought. "Maybe a month ago? He wanted to know about for hire guys. You know, guys that will do specialty stuff. Custom stuff. He's also asking about private parties for men. Very exclusive stuff. I'm, you know, alarmed because…" He looks at Bobby. "...you know. But he won't explain why so I give him a few names ask him if he's staying clean but he wasn't. I could tell."
"What names did you give him?" Blake asks, as he pulls out a small notepad.
"Don't bother. The names were unhelpful because a week after that he and Selina come in. Selina, who I don't really know that well, kinda got into my face. She knew I wasn't giving Ollie what he was really asking for but, man, why the hell would I? After everything he's been through? I'm not throwing him to the wolves."
He and Bobby held a look.
"So Selina demanded to know who to go to to for the real ultra hardcore stuff. Illegal stuff. Stuff that could get you arrested and thrown in prison. She was very persuasive. I warned her that there's bad fucked up shit out there, man, you don't jump in there without it polluting you."
"What did she say to that?" Bruce asked.
"She said that I had no idea how bad some things were. The way she looked at me...I don't know her too good but I could tell she was unnerved. I mean she was edgy as hell and Ollie seemed more shook than usual but they were determined. They were on a mission and so I helped them."
"Names?" John prodded.
"Mag Mike...he's the most connected of pornographers. He's got the setup and the equipment but I heard he's more into the drug scene. More money."
"And?"
"Only one other sleaze I could think of. Larry Pond who runs The Palace. Jesus, that guy's a creep. I mean I know a lot of creeps but him? A whole other level."
"I think we had the pleasure of meeting him earlier," Bruce said. "Charming tattoos on his hand?"
"Bitch slapper? Yeah, that's him."
"Looks like we need to pay another visit to that asshole," Blake commented, not at all liking where this investigation was going. He preferred going after drug dealers or the organized crime that was encroaching back into Gotham. He handed the list of addresses to Lax. "This your handwriting?"
"Yeah."
"I visited each and every one of these addresses and there's nothing remarkable there. What's the significance?"
"Because nothing happens there during the day. My sources tell me it doesn't really get going on until well after dark. The Market, as they call it, moves around between those addresses."
"The Market?"
"Look," Lax said. "I like deviant as much as the next guy but consensual deviant. Things between two adults is great and, obviously, I don't judge anyone's proclivities. My place? It's weird and hardcore as hell but everyone wants to be here. It may seem twisted but no one's hurting anyone. Yeah, there's whips and stuff but there's no torture. People are here to have a good time, live out their fantasies, be with people who have the same kinks. It's all cool, you know?"
He took a few drags of his cigarette.
"But then you get...well, you get the very dark side of the sex trade. These are off the grid places. Horrible, sadistic shit you don't even want to know exists. That is what The Market peddles in. I told them not to go to these places, but they insisted."
"Did they ask you about a young woman?" Bobby asked.
"No, but they did ask about this," Lax went over to his desk, rifled around under he found a drawing that he handed to Bruce. "Ollie sketched this."
The drawing showed several views of an ominous looking full head dark red, almost black, leather mask. The bigger drawing revealed the front view showing a small zippered opening for the mouth, two small eye holes, and two tiny slits for the nose. The smaller drawing showed the back view, only a long zipper. The side views showed a design stitched in black.
"Where did he see this?"
"I don't know but it freaked him out. He asked me to look into who may have made it."
"Did you find out anything?" Bruce asked.
"Oh, yeah. As you can tell, I have a lot of resources into the world of bondage wear. The design here is a Chimera. From what I can tell it's Italian. Not cheap, man, not cheap at all. That's as far as I've gotten. It's tough getting info from people who don't know me. Someone this good won't give customer info for no good reason."
"Mind if we take this?" Bruce asked.
"Yeah, go ahead but I'd like it back. Because, you know, the last thing he drew for me. I know it's morbid but…"
Bobby patted his arm. "No need to explain."
"Do you think The Market's open now?" Blake asked.
"I don't know why it wouldn't be. Don't know where they are tonight but one of those addresses should do the trick."
"Up for it?" Blake asked Bobby, He already knew Bruce was chomping at the bit to get over there.
"You ever been?" Bobby asked Lax.
"Nah. I'm a fan of off the grid sex shops but my sense is that The Market is a pretty horrific place."
Bobby looked at Blake then Bruce, clearly not wanting to go but if he could do something, anything, to help find who killed Ollie, he had to do it.. "If Ollie had to go, I'm in."
"Ollie was a monumental fuck up," Lax said. "But he was the kind of guy who'd do anything for his friends. I'll go, too. Besides, I'm not sure they'd let any of you in."
The men split up to search the addresses on the list. Before Lax and Bobby took off on Lax's motorcycle, Lax told them not to go in without him as he was almost positive Bruce and John would be turned away.
"So what should we focus on? The woman in the picture? Pornographers? What?" John asked as they drove to the first of the addresses they would check out.
"We ask about a woman asking questions. I doubt many women go to those kind of places at all."
"So someone should remember her," Blake commented.
"Yeah." Bruce replied absently. Selina's erratic behavior in the last few months was starting to make sense. If she had descended into Gotham's darkness, exploring the illicit sex trade, it was no wonder she had zero interest in him. Their alienation hadn't been just emotional, the physical estrangement had been bewildering and, Bruce conceded, her rejection had stung which further exacerbated the increasing tension. For the millionth time, he wondered why hadn't she told him about all this?
John's phone buzzed with a text notification. "They found it, 17th street," he told Bruce who then made a quick, illegal u-turn in the middle of the empty street.
He parked the car some distance away, not wanting anyone to notice the vehicle. He and John walked the few blocks to the back entrance of an old office building. There were a few men loitering in the shadows. If one was driving by, the men would not be noticed, but Bruce certainly noticed them. Noticed the outline of a gun under their coats. His dread increased.
After noticing Bruce and John's arrival, Lax and Bobby approached the guards. Lax did the talking and whatever he said worked, as one of the men beckoned to them to follow him inside. They walked through a maze of concrete hallways, then down a flight of stairs until they reached another guard standing watch in front of a locked door. As they neared, they heard a knock from the other side of the door. The guard opened the door to let a man out. The man avoided looking at them, as he tightened his hold onto whatever he kept under his coat.
The guard nodded at them to go in then locked the door behind them. They found themselves in a large room which gave the impression that it was usually empty except for this night when it was filled with about a dozen or so vendors sitting at makeshift tables selling their wares. The lighting was drab, the only sounds in the room were the turning of pages and the quiet shuffling of footsteps. It was one of the most depressing rooms Bruce had been in.
Bruce took the lead, approaching the vendor nearest to the door. On the square folding table, he took in the selection of videos, dvds, books and magazines and thought of Rha's Al Ghul, remembering their first meeting. At this moment, he would love to see what Rha's would do with this crowd. He shook off his memories and addressed the small man who regarded him with boredom.
"What's your pleasure, mister?"
Bruce refused to look back down to what was being sold. He held up a fifty.
"A woman and man were in here a few weeks ago asking questions. Remember them?"
"Maybe," the man said, reaching for the bill.
Bruce held it out of reach.
"They was looking for exotic stuff."
"Like what?"
Bruce could see the man trying to think of an answer that would get him that fifty. He knew nothing.
They moved on to the next table. When Bobby got a look at what was being sold, he shook his head and went to wait by the door. With a grimace, Lax followed him.
Bruce and John shared a look. Both wanting to get out of the hellhole they'd found themselves in. Seemy and vile, this place was an aspect of Gotham Bruce couldn't believe he hadn't been familiar with. It hadn't entered his mind to look into something like this, that a place such as this even existed in his city.
They continued questioning the various vendors. No one remembered her until one woman knitting a hat remembered them both.
"Yeah" she said, pocketing the fifty, "They were asking if I knew a girl from a photo. Blonde girl."
"Do you?"
"Never saw her before. She looked like she may have been one of the girls Pond picks up at the bus station."
"What do you mean?" Bruce asked, adding another fifty to the one he offered.
"Larry from The Palace is known to pick up his girls from the station. He's sends a roper out to find the pretty runaways who have nowhere to go. She looks like she may be one of those."
"Anything else?"
"Yeah," she said, waiting for more money. Bruce presented another fifty. "There was a real ruckus at Ernie's stand. The man who was with your woman became very angry at something then ran out. I think they shot their way out. I couldn't see clearly but it was a big scene. We don't get too many of those over here."
"Is Ernie here?" John asked.
She nodded. Bruce hated funding this vile woman who sold things that nauseated him to his core but he needed the information. Besides, she would be going down real soon.
She pointed to a stand that they had already visited. The stand was now empty.
He presented two hundred dollar bills. "Back door?"
"Over there," she said, nodding her head in the direction. Sensing that the interview was over, she sat back down resuming her knitting.
John texted Bobby to get Lax out while distracting the guards and meet them at the street. He and Bruce waited as Lax picked a realish looking fight with Bobby which drew the attention of the guards as they escorted both men out.
Bruce and John exited through the back door unnoticed by anyone except the knitting woman.
They found themselves back in the maze of concrete corridors. No trail to follow and no way back inside. The back door had automatically locked and nothing other than brute force would get it open again. Ten minutes later, they made their way back up to the door they had first entered.
Bobby and Lax were waiting for them by Lax's motorcycle. "What did you learn?"
"That scum Larry's name came up again," John said. "We should pay him another visit tonight." He looked at his watch. "This morning," he corrected.
"Hey, Lax," Bruce said. "Those guards know you? Anyone there know you?"
Lax shook his head. "Nope."
"Good," he said, giving John a look.
John nodded. "I'm calling it in now." He walked off to make a call.
"Who's he calling?" Bobby asked.
"His friends at the police department," Bruce replied. "That place is getting shut down tonight."
"Yeah, so I don't think I want to be here for that, ok?" Lax said, sliding on his helmet. "Let me know what's going on, would you, Bobby?"
"Absolutely," Bobby answered. "I'll also let you know when we set up a memorial service for him. I want to wait for Selina before getting that going."
After Lax sped off, the three men walked back toward the car. As they passed an alley, they were met by a group of men who indicated with their guns that Bruce, John, and Bobby should proceed directly into the dark alley.
"It's okay, Bobby," Bruce assured him, not feeling the slightest fear of the men. He only wanted answers and if he got to punch his way to answers, so much the better.
His eyes met John's. They were in perfect agreement.
The leader of the group stepped forward.
"Ernie, I presume," Bruce said as he unobtrusively took count of the number of men and guns. "We were looking for you."
"So, I heard you were looking for that bitch that stole my son."
"Excuse me?" Bruce couldn't help but be surprised.
Ernie gestured for the biggest of his guys to stand close to Bruce to intimidate him. When the man glared down at Bruce, Ernie said: "That stupid bitch and that fucking dipshit stole my boy! Now, where are they so I can get him back. He's probably really scared."
Bruce turned his attention from the very large man standing in front of him to Ernie. "Did you call the police?"
"Uh, not yet. We was just about to when you came in."
"Well, let's call them right now, shall we?" Bruce said, reaching into his pocket.
"Hey now," the large man said, taking a step back. "Easy there, let's see your gun."
Bruce smiled, "Don't have one. Never had the need."
The large man didn't see the punch coming. A quick jab to the windpipe and the man dropped his gun. Holding his throat he backed up knocking another guy off balance. John took care of the other two while Bobby grabbed the guns that fell to the ground. It was over in less than ten seconds.
Bruce walked over to Ernie who turned and ran as fast as he could. Bruce thought of giving chase but realized the man had no information worth the effort.
"Can we get our guns back?" One of them sheepishly asked.
"You've got to be kidding," John said. "Scram, you worthless idiots!"
Watching the last one run around the corner and out of sight, Bobby said, "We should go before they come back. What do I do with these?" He held out the guns he had collected.
"I'll take them," John said, stuffing them in his pockets and in the waistband of his jeans. "I know a good way to get rid of them."
They hurried back to their car only to find it gone.
"You've got to be kidding," John said again, looking around to confirm they were in the right spot.
Bruce stared at the spot wondering what else was going to happen. His temper simmered below the surface.
"I saw someone take your car," a quiet voice called out from behind a dumpster.
"Why didn't you do anything about it?" John asked.
A young man emerged from his hiding spot. Clearly he was not capable of fighting off car thieves. He was thin and cagey, more suited for hiding than fighting.
He approached them, standing closest to Bobby who seemed the least threatening.
"That kid Ernie's talking about is not his son. Know what I mean?"
Bobby nodded. "Yeah. Do you know what happened?"
The young man was fearful, looking around trying to see if anyone was watching him. "It was cool what they did. Them two run out of there, the guying holding that kid like a hero. It was cool as shit. But I thought the woman got shot. Did she?"
"No," Bruce said. "There was a gunfight?"
"Yeah, she was shooting, they were shooting. It was crazy. Never seen anything like that before."
"When was this?"
"Like a week ago?" He looked around again. "I have to go, can't be seen talking to you. But it was real good them saved that kid. They did a real good thing for sure. Wish someone had been there for me like that…"
He starts off but is stopped by Bobby.
"You don't have to do this," Bobby said. "I got a place, 'The Sly Dog.' It's a legitimate place. You come by and I've got a job for you. A real job so you don't have to do anything you don't want to."
Bruce looks him in the eye as he gives him cash. "Use it for a fresh start. Take him up on his offer, you can come with us now if you want."
The young man took the money. "I got people I can't just abandon but I'll think about it."
He walked away then stopped. "Hey, did they find anything out about that girl?"
"What do you know about that?" John asked.
"Just that they were trying to find out if anyone knew anything about her," he said. Then with a quick wave, he disappeared into the shadows.
Bobby watched the kid disappear feeling depressed. The young man was so familiar. He was him. He was Ollie. He hoped like hell he would take the lifeline offered to him.
"I'll call an Uber," he said. "Though I'm not sure anyone will come around here this time of night."
"Forget it," John said. "The cops are on the way and I've arranged for a friend to pick us up."
Bruce looked at him questioningly.
"Jess," John said with a shrug.
"Jesus, I can't believe someone stole Selina's Camaro," Bobby said. "She's gonna be so pissed! She's had that car forever. Got it from her granny."
"A grandmother had that car?" Bruce asked.
"Yeah, weird, huh? It used to be a total wreck but Selina had a mechanic boyfriend that was more than happy to fix it up with her." Bobby remembered who he was talking to. "Uh, sorry."
Bruce gave a gesture indicating he didn't care about stories of old boyfriends.
"We drove across country in that thing. Twice. That was our Vegas car and she treated us well. Spent a few nights in it. As great a car as it is, I have to confess it's not the most comfortable to sleep in."
"I bet not," John remarked. "Looks like there's a crap all night diner not too far off. Let's wait for Jess there. I need coffee."
The three men headed to the diner. Bruce asked Bobby about living in Vegas with Selina.
"She speaks of living there fondly."
"Yeah, it was great. I'm learning my thing. She's learning hers. She was the best roommate I ever had until she got popped."
Again with the oversharing, Bobby cursed at himself.
"Don't worry, Bobby," John said. "Her history is not unknown to us."
"Whatever you saw in a file, that doesn't paint the right picture of her. She never took from someone that didn't deserve it. Never, never from someone who was regular working types. She beat up a few johns that gave me trouble. Yeah, Vegas was a good time. And she was fun, you know, but there was definitely a dangerous edge to her. She was fearless."
"Still is," Bruce said.
"Always," Bobby replied. "She wouldn't have gotten popped if she hadn't been working with a bunch of jerks. She was working with a crew, they got caught. Selina was the only one who kept her mouth shut which earned her a year in prison. When she got out, rather than report to a PO, she hightailed it out of there. Went to Detroit, I think. Never worked with a crew again."
They soon reached the diner finding it surprisingly busy for three a.m. A tired waitress led them to a booth in the back. They sank into the red booth and ordered coffee that turned out to be quite good.
"What do you think they did with the boy?" Blake asked.
Bruce shrugged. "Took him someplace safe. Maybe back to his parents?"
"Sometimes parents aren't the safest place to be," Bobby said which earned two confounded looks from John and Bruce. It took him a moment to remember that Bruce had been orphaned at a young age. "There's a guy that takes in kids like that. It's a shelter but not public. He doesn't want any attention because the pimps will try to get the kids back."
"How does he do that? I mean, how does he afford to do that?" Bruce asked.
"Man, he does it on his own. He works his job, and just does it. I give him what I can as do others who know about him. He's a goddamn bona fide hero is what he is. You need someone to give your money to, he's a good candidate."
"I'll look into that," Bruce said and Bobby knew he would.
They fell quiet again. The events of the evening zapping away the effort it took to make light conversation.
"I can't believe Ollie didn't have a nervous breakdown in that place," Bobby said before thinking. He hadn't meant to keep talking about the past but that awful place dredged bad memories. Memories he had thought had no more power over him.
Bruce and John regarded him steadily, interested in what he had to say.
"Ollie and I met very young," he explained. "We had the same sadistic pimp and when that pimp...got killed. We were on our own but still turning tricks to feed a habit. It was not a good time in my life."
Bobby looked up expecting to see judgement on Bruce Wayne's face but he only found compassion.
"As bad as it was for me it was worse for Ollie. I had parents that were determined to beat the gay out of me so I ran away from home at seventeen. Thinking I would become an actor or a dancer or something like that, I made my way to Gotham. It doesn't take long for people like Larry Pond to find you. They prey on these kids, kids running away from home who are vulnerable and scared. Damaged. I know because fifteen years ago that was me. But Ollie…"
He looked away, his gaze on the window. Only the reflection from the inside was visible.
"Ollie grew up with Selina and Darryl, right?" Bruce asked, prodding for more information. "Do you know Darryl?"
"Yeah, we're not great friends or anything but, back in the day, we knew each other. Because of Ollie. He would help out Ollie when he could which also meant helping me out."
Bobby took a sip of his coffee. "Darryl and Selina were super protective of Ollie when they were growing up but there's only so much kids can do. Ollie's parents were junkies. Hardcore junkies. And Ollie was...well, Ollie was a beautiful little boy. Selina said he looked like an angel. Blonde curly hair, blue eyes. A kid like that should not have parents like he had."
"Christ," John muttered, shaking his head. "I don't understand how a person could do that to any kid, let alone their own."
"There's evil in this world, that's for certain," Bruce said. "I think Selina and Ollie were chasing that evil. After hearing about his history, I can't imagine what it would take for Ollie to dip his toe back in that world but he did. It had to have been for a good goddamn reason."
A pair of headlights penetrated the window.
"Jessie's here," John said.
"How do you know Detective Massey?" Bobby asked.
"The police academy," Blake answered. "There's a group of us that have kept close since we were rookies. Our group got a bit smaller after…you know."
Bobby nodded. Bane's occupation of Gotham had not been kind to police officers. Bobby, never a fan of the police, even felt sorry for them during that time.
"So you and her?" Bobby asked.
"It's not like that." Blake shook his head, looking embarrassed. "She doesn't like cops."
"You're not a cop," Bruce reminded him.
"Yeah, tell that to her," John said, rising as Jess approached the table.
"You boys been busy, I see," Jess sat down in the empty spot next to Bruce. "I heard there was a helluva raid on an underground sex operation. That was you?"
"Yeah," John said. "You should thank me to eternity for not bringing you to that shithole."
"That bad?"
"Worse. I want to go home and take a shower in bleach."
"Did you learn anything helpful? About Ms. Kyle?"
"Only that she and Ollie were gathering information about the woman," Bruce said. "After seeing the kind of things that were sold at that place, I'm worried for her."
"What do you mean?"
"Jess, it was hardcore secret vile stuff," John said. "From what I could tell from the few covers I looked at, the actresses don't seem exactly consenting, if you know what I mean."
"Rape films? That could be staged."
"I don't know," Bobby said. "After being in that place, seeing the people who were there, there's just something bad going on."
Jess nodded. "What do we do next? How do we help find her? Between the woman in the picture and the stripper on the video, I get the feeling they need to be found sooner rather than later."
"We have a lead we're going to follow up on later tonight," Bruce said. "We'll let you know if anything pans out."
"I have news of my own," Jess said.
"Anything about Selina?" Bruce asked, alarmed.
"A few hours ago, hospital security reported someone skulking around the hospital. I checked with your security guys, Mr. Wayne, but they're focused on her room and didn't observe outside activity. The hospital security gave chase but didn't catch the man. In the stairwell, outside of Ms. Kyle's floor, they found some flowers with Ms. Kyle's name on it."
The waitress brought her coffee and refilled the other cups. Jess nodded thanks then continued.
"Since flower delivery companies don't usually operate in the middle of the night, it was suspicious."
She sipped her coffee, smiling slightly in appreciation. "Even more suspicious was that the flowers appear to have been lifted from a cemetery."
"A cemetery. Like funeral flowers?" Bruce asked.
"Exactly," Jess replied. "So I'm thinking it's a message?"
"Weird message to send when you already sent a hitman..." John said. "Excuse me, hitwoman to do the job."
"Yeah," Jess said. "That makes no sense."
"Maybe since no flower shops are open in the middle of the night, someone had to improvise," Bruce said. "They probably weren't expecting a security detail."
A loud unfamiliar ring tone interrupted them. It took a moment for Bruce to remember his new burner phone.
"Yes?" he answered.
Everyone waited in silence, watching him as he listened to the caller. We'll be there in twenty minutes...Alone, yes….Yes, I've got cash."
He ended the call.
"We need to go. Now." He tossed a fifty on the table. "Detective, if we could trouble you for a ride?"
"Of course, but I should interview her."
"She only agreed to talk to me. She sounded scared so I'm worried she'll run if anyone else shows up to the meeting. Though, John, I want you for back-up in case she does run."
Bruce and John walked off, discussing their strategy.
"They tell me everything I need to know?" Jess asked Bobby as they followed behind.
"Yes, everything you need to know," he said with a look that indicated there was more that he couldn't tell her. He'd spent the afternoon with Massey, liked her more than he thought he would like a cop. She seemed to sincerely care about Ollie and that meant a lot to him. "We need to find that woman in Selina's photo."
He opened the door for her, remembering another crucial bit of information. "They're also looking into someone who makes illicit pornography. Someone who may make private movies only to be viewed by a very select few."
"God, this case is gross."
She didn't even know that half of it.
On her way to taking Bobby home, Jessica dropped off Bruce and John near the appointed place. They were a few minutes early, enough time for John to get in position at the other end of the alley to keep Roxanne from running off before they got all the information they needed from her.
She was, Blake thought, someone who might have actual helpful information instead of providing more questions. Roxanne had given Selina that address that led her and Ollie down that fateful path. She probably had been sent to hang out at Mag Mike's just waiting for Selina to show up. Someone knew the path Selina would follow and had trapped her perfectly.
From his hiding place, John studied Bruce who paced the alley waiting for Roxanne to show. Bruce kept himself together pretty well but John suspected the man was boiling below the surface. As for Ms. Kyle, the more John learned about her the more he understood what Wayne saw in her. He feared for her, something told him someone with power and influence wanted her dead.
As he waited, he stretched relieving his tired muscles. He was used to the late nights. Bruce not so much but the man did nothing to let on that he probably hadn't slept in twenty four hours. John grinned, remembered Alfred's words to him before he left to take the late night shift of sitting by Selina's bedside.
"Would you mind terribly getting Master Wayne home at a decent hour?" He had politely requested of John. Somehow John suspected that 5 a.m. was not what Alfred had had in mind.
A woman walked quickly past him. She looked behind her as if to make sure she wasn't followed. She did not see him as he quietly followed her. His plan was to stay in the shadows but close enough so she wouldn't run off.
"I know who you are," she said to Bruce.. "I bet people would be interested to know the kind of places Mr. Bruce Wayne likes to go. The kind of women he keeps company with."
John rolled his eyes. Lady, he thought, you are all kind of stupid.
"Are you here to blackmail me?" Bruce asked. "I thought you were going to give me information. Believe me, giving me information is the better deal for you."
"Yeah, okay, I was at Mag Mike's. I saw her there. Her and her boyfriend."
"You gave her something?"
At that, she was surprised. She backed up. "I don't know what you're talking about. I was there, I saw her. What else do you want to know?"
"I want to know," Bruce said, taking a few steps closer to her. "Why you gave her this piece of paper with this address?" He held up the scrap of paper with 352 Riverside scrawled in girlish handwriting.
Again, she looked behind her. John knows she's about to run so he steps out from the shadows. He holds his hands up. "We're not going to hurt you. We only want to know who gave you that address."
"Nobody did!"
Since his time away from the force, John had picked up a few habits that were not allowed for police officers but sure was handy for a guy fighting crime on his own. As she backed up closer to him, he quickly reached into her purse, tossing the phone to Bruce.
"Hey, that's my private property! Don't you dare look at my texts!"
Bruce ignored her as he accessed her phone. It was an older model that did not require any passwords.
"Let's check your deleted items, shall we?" He scrolled for a few moments then held up the phone for John to see. In the dark, John can clearly see a text from 'Boss' that read "Good girl. give them 352 riverside." The date stamp was Monday, just after midnight.
John and Bruce's gazes met. They knew exactly who Boss was. Everything in the last few hours pointed to Larry Pond.
The alley grew quiet. Very quiet as Bruce stared at Roxanne. "You sent them to die, you know," he said.
"I didn't know! I didn't know that! I wouldn't do that!"
Bruce turned around, scrolling more through her phone. He found the text she sent just before receiving the response from Boss on Monday. He held up the phone which showed a photo she'd taken of Selina and Ollie along with a text 'asking about stuff."
Suddenly angry, he lashes out. "Who is this? Why is he after them?"
"I don't know!" She's scared, so very scared. She insists that she doesn't know the name but they all know she's lying.
"I know what happened to everyone at Mag Mike's! I just need some money then I'll get out of here. Forever."
"I'll give you enough to get out of town. You just need to calm down and answer my goddamn questions."
"Fine!" She spat out. "Make it quick!"
"Who is Boss?"
"Larry. Larry Pond."
"Why is he after them?"
"I have no idea! You think he tells me shit? I had to stay at Mike's for like a week waiting for those two to show up. They showed up, I let Larry know. End of story!"
That wasn't even close to the end of the story but Blake knew they had gotten everything they were going to get out of her. John reached out his hand to Bruce who put a small stack of cash on his palm.
"This money is to keep you alive. To do that, you need to get the hell out of town, you got that?" John said, holding the cash out of her reach. "You don't go anywhere but to get a cab to take you out of town. Out of town, you get a train, a bus, a plane, a boat, anything that takes you as far away from here as you can. You're a loose end. They're killing their loose ends."
"As if I don't know that!" Roxanne snatched the cash from his hand then ran off.
"Think The Palace is closed by now?" Bruce asked, looking at his watch.
"Good time to go snooping before we head home."
The Palace wasn't too far to walk to. By the time they reached it, it was nearing dawn but still dark. They climbed the fire escape, Bruce jimmied the window, climbing in with John not far behind.
The place was still, indicating to them that everyone had gone home for the night. They explored the second story soon finding a locked door labelled PRIVATE. The lock was trickier than expected but wasn't any match for either of their skills.
The office was cluttered in an organized sort of way. There were stacks of files with payroll info, invoices and other things that held no interest for them. They soon came across stacks of photos of naked women.
"Oh, God," John said as he realized he had to go through them. There was nothing sexy or inviting about any of the photos but he looked hoping to find the missing woman.
"Find her?" Bruce asked. He was looking through a different stack of photos. Larry Pond was a disgusting sleaze who really did have his hands deep in all manner of sex trades.
"Nothing," John called out. "I found no more photos. Thank God."
"Look for an address book, anything with a list of names and numbers," Bruce said, rifling through the desk drawers. "This guy can not be in charge. He doesn't have the money to hire the quality of hitwoman that tried to kill Selina. He's taking orders from someone."
"Agreed," John said as he picked the lock on metal file cabinet. The last drawer proved to be the winner. "What have we here?"
He held up a battered laptop. Shining his phone flashlight on it, he could discern specks of blood on it. "Check it out."
"That's it, Blake," Bruce said. "Let's get the hell out of here."
"Good, cause I can't take much more of this shit." John had worked plenty of cases both on the force and off, but this one was a whole other level. One that we would rather not ever re-visit but knew he would. Now that he knew this world existed, how could he ignore it?
They made their way back outside. As they emerged from the alley, the first rays of daylight filtered through the tall buildings.