Chapter 25

Bruce visits his new friend in prison and does not get the response he was hoping for

Wednesday, early afternoon

He held his breath as he entered the small, windowless room. He was not prepared for the smell of the airless space – exhaled air, staleness and uncleanness – which put him right back in that room where he had first set eyes on her. He had to shake his head, to clear it.

Nor was he prepared for the sight of her. She sat at the small table, restrained by handcuffs that were chained together and to a thick bar on the table. Her hair was lank. She was unkempt and had lost weight: he could see it in her face. Her eyes were downcast, and she didn't look up as he entered.

'Can we take those off?' he asked, pointing to the cuffs.

He wasn't asking the officer in the room: he directed his question to the people watching behind the large mirror on the wall to one side. There was no way she could be a physical threat to him. There was a pause, then the radio on the officer's shoulder crackled to life. She stepped forward and released the cuffs. Only then did Martina raise her eyes to him, rubbing her wrists.

'Martina,' he said gently as he sat down. He put the small box he carried on the table and pushed it towards her. 'I've brought you something.'

She looked at him, puzzled.

'It's vegan,' he said. 'I have no idea what the food's like in here.'

Slowly tears formed in her eyes and started to trickle down her cheeks.

'You have to eat it now,' he said. 'They won't let you take it back to your cell.'

He got a packet of tissues out of his pocket and slid them across the table. The guard was watching closely, but relaxed a little when she saw what the pack was. But he had been through a metal detector, pockets emptied, and had been patted down before he had been allowed into the room.

'It's only a sandwich, I'm afraid. I thought a cake or something might be too rich.'

At last she reached out and took the box and lifted the lid.

'Why are you being nice to me?' she asked, almost in a whisper.

He had to lean forward to hear her.

'You were nice to me. As nice as you could be. You brought me chocolate – do you remember? We shared it.'

She nodded as she started to eat the sandwich.

'You remembered I'm vegan,' she said. 'Thank you. They – they claim they forget, in here. They make me – they make me – '

But she couldn't continue.

'If you are not being treated well, you can always tell Mr Allinson. You're not convicted. In the eyes of the law, you are innocent.'

'Why are you paying for him? He told me, you're paying for him to represent me.'

'Because you looked after me, as best you could. And I think you need looking after now. It didn't go to plan, did it?'

She shook her head.

'You weren't supposed to get arrested, were you?' he continued.

'Are they listening?' she whispered.

'I'm not going to lie to you. Yes, they are. I – we – need your help. We don't know who they are – Allecto, Tisiphone, Megaera.'

She shrank down in the chair.

'I think I saw Megaera outside. I think she was going to approach Mr Allinson, till she saw me. Is she your mother, Martina?'

She burst into tears, hastily grabbing a tissue from the packet. He waited patiently until the sobbing got quieter, eventually stopping apart from an occasional hiccup. He had his answer on that one. He couldn't tell her that he had contacted Gordon, waiting inside the prison, and if her mother hadn't already been arrested, she probably would be shortly.

'Can I speak to her?' she whispered.

'I'm really sorry. I don't know how that could be arranged. She is a person of interest, the police call it. They would trace the call. But if you help us – I'll see what can be done. I can't promise more than that.'

She couldn't see the lie because she wasn't looking at him.

'What do you need to know?'

'Let's start with names. Just names, nothing else. I have half of Allecto's name. Her family name is Crowne – isn't it? It won't hurt to tell me her first name. She knew me when I was a boy.'

'I remember. The story of the rat. Edith. Her name is Edith.'

'Edith. Of course, I only knew her as Miss Crowne.'

He knew there would be activity behind the glass: frantic attempts to trace her.

'She was quite scary,' he said.

'She still is.'

'Tell me about her.'

So she talked about Edith Crowne, the scientist, who had grown up in Boston. Not quite poor, but not quite rich. A passion for science, which she pursued, with the intention of making money.

'From what?'

Martina shrugged. 'Anything that the public would buy. Or medical science.'

'Did she get married?'

She did, but marriage and kids (Aphra and Mercy, she let the names slip) were not allowed to get in the way of her drive to succeed.

'Is she your grandmother? Did she tell you family stories?'

'All the time.'

'What about?'

'Oh, what happened in Gotham a long time ago, why we were poor when by rights we should be rich. She . . . wanted us to understand, me, my mom, my aunt . . . it was up to us to carry on the fight, if she didn't succeed.'

'What fight?'

She looked at him then, like he was stupid. She frowned.

'To get the money back, of course.'

'Is that what all this has been about?'

She shrugged. 'Sort of. I don't know.'

'What do you think it's been about?'

'Partly about the money. Well, for them, anyway. Partly about testing the seeds. Partly about animal rights, and getting Wayne BioTech shut down. That's why I did it – got involved. For the animals.'

'I know. You're very – kind-hearted – about animals.'

'They suffer, you know? And now we won't be able to save them.'

He saw the tears spring up.

'Wayne BioTech is moving away from animal testing as much as possible. There might be mice, but.'

'Don't try to justify it. You can't.'

A sudden flash of righteous anger.

'Did your grandmother . . . ever talk about my father, Thomas Wayne?'

'Yeah, she did.'

'Did they – have an argument? A falling out? I know she left the company, and it wasn't pretty.'

She met his gaze then, defiantly.

'He stole from her.'

'Stole what?' He forced himself to remain quiet and calm, to not react.

'The seeds. The seeds were hers, her invention. Something to do with Matilda, she called it. But he took them, took credit for them.'

'But that was – what? – minimum thirteen years ago? Wayne BioTech have made no money from them. They can't get them to work properly.'

'That's because they're hers. They should be hers alone. She'll make them work. She invented them. Your people are too stupid.'

Another flash of anger. She wasn't as fragile as he had thought. She had bought her grandmother's whole line. He took a breath. He couldn't get side-tracked into an argument about intellectual property rights or the quality of the researchers at Wayne BioTech. And he certainly couldn't get into an argument about whether or not his father was a thief, stealing the ideas of better scientists.

'I'm sorry. I'm sorry you think that. When she gets them to work, what is your grandmother planning to do with them? What does she want to make happen?'

'You don't know, do you? They don't know, either, do they?' She waved a hand at the mirror. 'That's really why you're here. Not because you're concerned about me.'

'That's not true. I was concerned about you. But I see now I was mistaken. But I am also concerned about what your grandmother has planned. If people die, she may well get the death penalty. If you help us – you can maybe make sure that doesn't happen.'

He had no idea of the truth of what he was saying, but he guessed that she wouldn't, either.

Turning to the guard, she said:

'We're done here. Take me back now, please.'

'People are dying anyway,' he said as she reached the door. The prison officer kept it closed, forcing her to listen. 'The seeds don't work. They can't be switched off. People are going to die. And your grandmother, your mother, your aunt – you – are responsible.'

'Better people than animals.'

Then she was led out.

'Are you regretting getting Allinson in to represent her?' Gordon asked as the observers came out of the room and joined him in the corridor.

'Not sure on that one. It was the right thing to do at the time.'

'What if your man here gets her off, or a suspended sentence?'

Allinson smiled modestly.

'She's not the brains behind it. Edith Crowne has spun her a line and she has fallen for it. I'm sorry, that didn't work.'

'You did your best.' Gordon patted his shoulder and started to escort him and Allinson out. 'You got more out of her than we managed. Hopefully we can track down this Edith Crowne. She can't be completely invisible.'

'I wouldn't bet on it.'

'Aphra and Mercy – real Pilgrim Father names.'

'The Crownes go back a long way – so I understand.'

'You gotta ask where the menfolk are in all this.'

Bruce didn't like to comment on that: did Gordon think the menfolk should be keeping their women under better control? The women were more subtle, less violent in their crimes, he was learning. Softer, somehow.

'Well, hell hath no fury,' he said.

'All coming your way, then, if they want to take down Wayne BioTech. Let the local precinct know if you receive any threats, got any concerns. I'll put them on standby.'

'Thank you.'

Outside, there was a wait of a few minutes for the car service vehicle.

'Did she incriminate herself?' Bruce asked.

'Probably not. She just provided a motive for Edith Crowne, but she didn't really admit to anything,' Allinson said.

'Is any of it admissible?'

'Possibly. There was no deception. You couldn't read her her rights, because you are not a serving police officer. She knew what was happening.'

'She's more devious than I thought.'

'The zealous ones often are.'

'Be careful.'

'I will. And no, I can't tell you anything she tells me.'

'I wouldn't ask.'

Allinson nodded his approval. The car arrived, they got in.