"Shop's closed," a man buffing the floor said to Bruce as he walked into Madame Twyla's empty shop. "Oh..."
The man removed his headphones and looked at Bruce.
"You're Bruce Wayne," the man said and smiled.
"Yes, and you are?" Bruce asked.
"I'm Martin Scofield," the man told Bruce. "My boss is sold the building, so I'm just polishing things up."
"Twyla is your boss," Bruce said.
"Yes. Are you looking for her?" the man asked.
"I am," Bruce said to the man.
"She lives a couple blocks from here," Martin said. "I'll get you the address."
The man would not have given Twyla's address, Bruce was sure, if he wasn't talking to a well known billionaire. He probably assumed that Bruce was a potential buyer.
Bruce thanked the man before leaving with Twyla's address. Her home was close enough for him to walk, so he did.
He knocked on her front door and waited. Twyla opened the door with a smile, saying nothing while stepping to the side to let him in. She was wearing a long peach colored dress and her hair was long and loose.
"Shoes," she said.
"What?" he asked and looked down at the shoes by the door.
"I don't allow shoes in my house," Twyla said and left Bruce in the foyer.
Bruce shook his head before removing his Tom Ford leather shoes. Twyla's home was beautiful and the smell of roses was faint in the air. He found her in the living room sitting on the couch in her long dress with her feet on the couch beside her.
"Have a seat," she said to Bruce.
He walked over and sat on the smaller sofa across from her. Bruce was sure that the deep pink colored couches were vintage from the 1950's, the upholstery and woodwork looked meticulously maintained.
"Can I get you something to drink?" she offered.
"No, thank you," Bruce said. This was the nicest she had ever been.
"So, handsome, what brings you to my door?" she asked.
Bruce cleared his throat.
"You need something, then just ask," Twyla said impatiently.
"I'm not exactly sure what I need," he said.
"Aww," Twyla said. "You poor, confused, beautiful boy."
Bruce said nothing and looked at the window.
"This was a mistake," he said. "I should go-"
"Tell me," Twyla said. "Or else you have wasted my time."
"I've been here 60 seconds," Bruce said, seeing that she was being dramatic.
"All that time and you could have told me what you needed," Twyla said.
She stood up and walked across to Bruce and sat beside him. She sat on her knees with both of them touching his thigh. He felt her hand on his shoulder and his entire body tensed up and he couldn't move.
"Look at me," she whispered.
Bruce turned his head slowly to face her.
"What a nice suit," she said and rubbed his shoulder. "Armani?"
He sighed and looked ahead again. Her home was impossibly soothing and relaxing but she was bothersome, although she was beautiful.
"This is about the death," Twyla said.
Bruce looked at her again.
"You look so guilty," Twyla said. "No one's died. I would have sensed the balance restored. So far nothing. So...is someone dying? On life support?"
"No," Bruce said. "Someone was close to dying but I saved him."
He watched Twyla's seductive energy disappear in a flash.
"You stupid, foolish," Twyla said in a deep and monotone voice. "Mindless, thoughtless, pretty boy."
"I need to fix it," he said.
"It will fix itself," Twyla said.
"Who will die?" he asked, even though he knew that she wouldn't know.
"You will see when it happens," Twyla shrugged.
"Adriana will be safe though? Won't she?" Bruce asked.
"Your interference may put her in danger," Twyla said. "It could be her. It could be anyone."
"I need it to be someone in particular," Bruce said. "But I don't know where he is."
"Then you have a big problem don't you?" Twyla let out a dry laugh. "Your energy is best spend making sure nothing happens to you or your loved ones. Freak accidents are likely."
"No," Bruce said firmly. "That's not how this is going to conclude."
"And you think you have control?" Twyla laughed again and Bruce turned and grabbed her with both hands.
"This is not funny," he said to her.
"Mmm.." Twyla said and her free hand began to slide up his chest as he gripped her arms. "Maybe I can help you."
"How?" he demanded.
"We will have to brainstorm," she said with a smile.
"It seems that seeking your help only makes things worse," Bruce said. "How can I even trust you?"
"What a nice question," Twyla said. "You demand my help and the next second say you can't trust me."
"You helped me to bring back Adriana," Bruce said.
"I did," Twyla said. "And now you're asking me to help you kill. That is a tall order."
"I don't need you to help me kill," Bruce clarified. "I simply need you to help me find this man as soon as possible."
"You want access to him to kill him," Twyla said. "And you want me to give you access. That makes me an accomplice."
Bruce pressed his lips together.
"What do you want?" he asked. "Money? More money?"
"I'll tell you what I want later," she said and pinched his cheek.
"What do I have to do?" Bruce asked.
"You have no personal belonging of his, and no blood of an immediate family member," she clarified.
"I can't supply you with either," he told her.
"Hm..." Twyla said and stood up. "There are other ways."
"Okay, I'm listening," he said quickly. "There are a couple of people who know his whereabouts. Maybe there's something you can give me to encourage them to share with me-"
"You want to affect their free will," Twyla said. "No. Not possible."
Bruce swallowed, felling frustrated.
"Fly on the wall could help again," Twyla said. "If you knew a previous location. Perhaps you could follow him."
"I..." Bruce said. "I do actually."
"It will be different than it was for seeing your wife's past," Twyla said. "The potion was tweaked to allow you to see things regarding your wife without a specific time. It was easier because she is your wife, you love her, there is a simple and straightforward bond."
Twyla paused.
"I'm assuming you have a strong hatred for whoever this man is," she said. "However hatred is not as strong as love. Not as clear cut or direct."
"Okay," Bruce said, trying to understand.
"Do you know the exact time he was wherever you're going to go? When he left?" she asked.
"No. I mean I have an idea...but," he started.
"Useless," she said. "You will see everyone else who was there, and more useless things."
"Barely anyone was there and I'm sure of it," Bruce said. "I just need to see any and all activity in this location."
Twyla frowned. "Unless he was alone in a cardboard box for ages, this will not work."
"It will," Bruce said.
Twyla squinted. "Okay then. I can give you the plain formula then."
"Excellent," Bruce perked up.
"However each vial only lasts one hour," she said. "You may need several. Using too many at once can have side effects."
"Such as?" he wanted to know.
"I gave your wife a similar formula," she laughed. "One that heightens visions and clarity. She went overboard and destroyed by first shop. One of the side effects is dramatic and impulsive behavior. You may do regrettable things. Takes a while to wear off too."
"I can control myself," Bruce assured her.
"If you have to use several bottles, I doubt that," she laughed.
"Give me what you have," he told her. "Please."
She sighed. "As you wish."
Bruce watched her leave the room. She was gone for a while. Bruce watched the color of the sky turn golden. He told Adriana he would try to be home early but he was very late. His foot tapped on the floor as he waited.
Twyla returned thirty minutes later with a small white box. Bruce looked inside. There were small compartments with six of the small bottles arranged neatly.
"Six hours," he said.
"You do know that another person may die before you can even get through these," she said. "And find whoever it is you are looking for."
"I need to at least try," he said.
He wanted to see the Joker, the team that retrieved him, and what happened. Maybe one of them mentioned where he would be moved to. He needed to know. He needed to end this.