Under Bruce's instruction, Alfred had arrived at City Hall early and whilst it was transformed, with the central hall cleared out and filled with over fifty round tables, each with their own cream table cloth, there was still work to be done. Banners hung from the ceiling to the ground in front of the giant stone columns at the top of the concrete stairs which were covered in a crimson felt carpet for the guests to walk on from their cars.
Inside, the event planner, Nigella Blacksburg stood in the corner away from the staff that continued to set up and despite her hushed tone, her words still rang out loudly. "What do you mean you're running late?"
After four years in college and seven working, Nigella had finally received her break in the form of the Martha Wayne Memorial Charity Auction and she was aghast due to the caterers informing her that due to an accident, they would be running half an hour late. "Mr Wayne took a chance on me and I am not going to screw this evening because of an 'accident', you've got fifteen minutes or the contract is void."
Nigella pressed the end call button on her earpiece, closed her eyes and took in a deep breathe. "Everything is going to be fine."
She opened her eyes turned back to her event and watched as one of the waiters carrying three trays of champagne glasses tripped on a scuff in one of the rugs that lined the wooden floor of the corridor that led to the central hall. While the waiter only stumbled, the contents of the trays that he was carrying were sent to the ground shattering the, what had to be at least, three dozen glasses. Walking like a woman with a purpose, Nigella's heels clicked against the tiled floor as she approached the man while one of his colleagues checked that he was okay. She stopped behind him and folded her arms across her chest.
"What the hell was that?" The man turned, mid-sentence to face his boss.
"I'm very sorry Miss Blacksburg, I tripped and..."
"Why were you carrying three trays? The health and safety regulations say personnel are only prohibited to carry two."
"I know but you wanted us to hurry so we thought..."
She felt her cheeks go red as he freely admitted to disobeying the instructions. Just another thing to go wrong tonight and he was blaming her. "You're saying this mess is my fault?"
"No, of course not..." He stammered to find an answer, desperate to keep his job but the glasses were the last straw pushing her over the edge.
"Just GET OUT! YOU'RE FIRED!" Nigella snapped.
"Please, Miss, I need this job." He pleaded.
"What the hell for, an accident?" A female voice boomed from behind her.
Nigella turned slowly and it was as if her coil tighten to its final stretching point as she looked the woman up and down.
'Barely a woman.' She wished she could say, jealousy teeming in her veins as Selina stepped up to her with a scowl resting on her slightly pink glossed lips.
She was dressed in a long flowing, midnight blue, form-fitting evening dress and a pair of close-toed, black heels. The straps of the dress hung just off of her shoulders, showing just enough skin to be classy but not provocative. Instead of resting against her back, as usual, her hair was brushed and tamed, pushed to one side so that her curls rested over her right shoulder. Other than the lip gloss, Selina had taken from Pam's stash, she had a dark shimmery shadow over her eyelids that somehow made the green in her eyes seem brighter.
"If you don't mind, Miss," Nigella said with a forced smile. "I don't believe that this is any of your business."
"You aren't even gonna give him a chance?" Selina asked, ignoring her.
"Madame, I am going to have to ask you to leave, guests aren't allowed in here for another hour."
"Yeah, I'm here to see our gracious host and I'm pretty sure that he wouldn't be happy with YOU sacking him for an accident."
The waiter stood watching the two women politely and verbally brawl about the fate of his job. "I appreciate it Miss but there's no need, I'm gonna go."
"Well, I am afraid Mr Wayne won't be here for another hour with the other guests so I am going to have to call security unless you leave the premises now." She smiled smugly, her first win of the day.
"I don't think that will be necessary."
"Mr Pennyworth." "Alfred?" Selina and Nigella said simultaneously.
"What's going on here?" Alfred asked the waiter, already knowing the answer.
"Miss Blacksburg fired me." The waiter told him.
"Whatever for?"
"Failure to comply with health and safety standards." Nigella interjected, pleading with her eyes for Alfred to agree with her.
"For a few broken glasses? Go get some more mate and Miss..." He looked the hostess up and down, just as she had Selina. "...Blacksburg'll find someone'a clean this mess up."
"Thank you, sir." Once the waiter left to head back to the storage room, Nigella turned to Alfred.
"Mr Pennyworth, I would appreciate if you wouldn't undermine my authority in front of my staff."
"Your staff, Miss Blacksburg?" He raised an eyebrow while she tried to stutter out a response.
"I uhh..."
"Weren't you going to find someone to clean that mess up?" He asked as she, just as the waiter had moments ago, stuttered for an answer.
"Yes, Sir."
After a few moments of her standing there, Alfred decided to push her on her way. "Well, get to it."
Nigella scurried away, cursing under her breath about this not being in her job description, while Selina turned her scornful gaze towards the older man, not giving him a chance to exchange pleasantries, cutting to the chase.
"Where's Bruce?"
"Good evening to you Miss Kyle, we weren't expecting you. I am afraid that he has to run a few errands and should be arriving later on."
She rolled her eyes. "I came here to tell him to leave me alone, I don't want him or his drama and neediness anywhere near me."
"Right, well, that makes perfect sense, you came here tonight dressed to the nines to tell him that you want nothing more to do with him. Is that the kind of jist of it?"
Alfred was pushing her buttons because he understood her, what she knew this really was, deep down. He'd met many women like her in his time, untrusting, shallow, alone. They'd strike out when threatened to avoid getting hurt and he was right because she wanted to shout at him but managed to bite her tongue. "I'm not gonna let anyone judge me for what I do, not Bruce, his butler."
She spat the words like poison while he continued pushing her, with his calm demeanour, acting as though he already knew the outcome. "What exactly is that? Master Bruce failed to fill me in with the details."
"Of Course he didn't." She rolled her eyes sarcastically, why would he bother when he is the one in the wrong? Wouldn't want the butler looking down on him. Selina knew that he was more than that but the anger and need to start fresh got the better of her.
"You know, I do feel as though this is something you may want to tell him yourself, after all, he's become quite fond of you."
"He needs to stay away." She brushed past his shoulder, having the last word. That was all she needed to say, she could go now and move on with her life without the complications brought on by Bruce.
With Maroni's trial about to start, Jim had placed a small army of officers on Harvey twenty-four seven to ensure his safety but Bruce still wasn't sure that it was required. It had taken him three days, but he had managed to hack past the firewall to access the CCTV footage saved to the hard drives Bruce knew were stored in, what was now, Harvey's panic room. While the footage from the DA's death had been deleted, whether it was by the police, Maroni's people or Harvey himself, Bruce was unsure, but he did manage to find something worthy of suspicion after watching footage inside the house for two days. The night before the murder, Harvey had gone out to the gardens with something hidden in his jacket at 23:07, returning at 23:13 without it.
The only reason that Bruce was here, climbing the fence in his tuxedo as the charity auction was supposed to be starting because of the chance it might mean something and he'd come prepared, activating the short-ranged signal jammer, that he'd asked Lucius to build, in the car so whilst he was looking around he didn't need to worry about the camera's catching a glimpse of him. He'd been waiting for Harvey to leave for an hour, watching the live feed from the security cameras and once he had, Bruce easily slipped passed the GCPD officers patrolling the perimeter. The inside of the fence was lined with a dense hedge that ran the perimeter of the grounds, keeping him hidden from prying eyes, allowing him to avoid difficult questions.
He was here to head out to where Harvey stashed or dumped whatever he had and as he headed around the back of the mansion, he tried to convince himself that it was just an empty bottle of bourbon he'd taken from his father and Harvey had just gone out to dispose of it where his he wouldn't find it, but really he had no idea what he was going to find, so he was surprised when he found the immediate garden leading up to the greenhouses overgrown, meaning it was likely overgrown behind them with the exception of a path of pink flowers, Bruce recognised as amaryllis, and while flowers wouldn't typically look unsettling, it looked as though they had grown in the steps that Harvey had walk, only that was impossible in the middle of winter.
Following the impossible flowers past the fountain, all the way through the greenhouses and then across the lawn to find that they stopped right before some overgrown bushes and as he got closer, he saw why. The grass and the underside of the bush were burned brown and yellow as opposed their authentic green and crouching down Bruce found a smashed glass bottle on the mud inside the remnants of a paper bag that it had been inside of. Acid. Hydroantimonic acid he was sure the tests would prove.
"What have you done Harvey?" He said to himself when an object, behind the bush, caught his eye.
As he pushed through the shrubbery, Bruce's Oxford shoes sunk sightly in the damp mud but it became clear he had found the source of the flowers and was looking at a five-foot-long oval plant pod but it was decaying, turning black with rot as it began to collapse in on itself. He'd come here looking for evidence and had found something he couldn't have imagined in his wildest dreams. Carefully, Bruce pulled at one of the partings, with the exception of a sweet-smelling transparent liquid that soaked his shoes, he found it hollow, already open from the underside. Whatever had been growing here had been gone for a long time and it should smell of death but didn't, like the flowers blooming in the middle of winter, it just seemed wrong.
That is when it hit him, it reminded him of the stasis pods Lucius had been developing which would hopefully allow accelerated healing from what would potentially be life-threatening images, only natural, no technology, just a plant. As he stared into the pod, his phone rang, surprising him, his hand flung to his breast pocket and he answered it without looking to silence the ringtone, expecting to hear Alfred's voice.
"Hello?" He spoke quietly, only hearing breathing
"Bruce..."
"Selina?" She was breathing heavily, panting like she'd been running.
"...You need to get here..." Bruce noticed her loud personality was gone, replaced by fear. He could hear her voice trembling.
"Where? Why are you whispering?" He could have sworn he heard a woman scream.
"...City hall it's..." She didn't get to finish explaining, as the sound of smashing glass cut her off.
Screaming, clearer now, closer to the phone.
A loud crash.
Then the line went dead.