Bruce Wayne surveyed the sea of faces looking for anyone he really liked or for that matter knew. This was a 24th Birthday and a belated welcome home party for him. But
in the whole of the crowed, he could only pick out the faces of two people he wanted to be with. One was Leslie Thompkins, who was director of the Thomas Wayne Memorial Clinic, the other was his butler Alfred. Everyone else in the room was just a name. All be it a prominent name, in Gotham social circles, but none of them were his friends.
Bruce had been travelling the world for the last ten years, learning new skills to enable him to keep his vow to fight crime in Gotham. When he had been younger he had been accompanied by his butler come guardian Alfred Pennyworth, but in the last few years he had travelled alone, honing his fighting skills. Learning from the masters of the many Martial Arts from across the world.
Since returning home Bruce had become Batman, the vigilante who was now striking fear into the hearts of Gotham's criminal classes. But tonight, instead of being out on
the streets stopping crime he had to put up with entertaining these people. It had taken Alfred weeks to convince his employer to host this party. He had only succeeded when he pointed out how advantageous it could be to Batman to have an understanding of Gotham society. Also it would be an opportunity to camouflage his identities. Just in case anyone put together the appearance of Batman on the streets with the return of Bruce Wayne. So Bruce was now giving the performance of his life as the amiable, rich, simpleton.
Bruce's act along with the allure of his wealth meant that hangers on and society debutantes, trying to gain a rich husband, quickly surrounded him. All claiming long lost,
non-existent friendship with the boy billionaire.
Alfred kept Bruce supplied with small glasses of ginger ale. To the casual observer it appeared as if Mr. Wayne had a liking for whiskey.
"Smile sir, you are supposed to be a party animal." Alfred muttered into his ear as he handed Bruce a fresh drink.
Bruce just glared at the man, "Look at them Alfred, Gotham's young elite, it's no wonder this city is in such a mess. Most of them are just, rich, spoilt brats."
"I must admit, I did my best never to spoil you, sir!"
Alfred patted his master on the back as he choked on the fact his butler had just implied that he was a rich brat.
Bruce saw an amused twinkle in the older mans eyes, but his face never lost its serious expression.
"No you old fraud, you never spoiled me with materialistic things, but you were always there for me." Bruce said.
"Dr Leslie and I did our best sir, and I don't think you have been a disappointment to either of us."
Alfred had walked away before Bruce became too embarrassed.
Bruce went over to join Leslie. "Happy Birthday darling." the woman said smiling the first genuine smile Bruce had seen all night.
He hugged the woman tight, "It's only happy, because you came!" Bruce exclaimed.
"Why the hell Alfred talk me into having this party I'll never know."
"Because he want's Bruce Wayne to be happy and to have friends." Leslie said. "Oh Bruce, that's all he's ever wanted for you, it's all either of us ever wanted."
"I know," Bruce muttered, "and I am happy, in my own way."
Leslie looked at the young man who was the nearest thing she had to a son with sad eyes. "I wish that were true Bruce."
As the party progressed Bruce saw a group of young men becoming drunk and more troublesome. Peter Purvis seemed to be the leader of the group. Bruce remembered him from school, rich and totally arrogant as a child and it would appear he hadn't changed as he had got older. They were giving a young maid a rough ride. Bruce saw Alfred approach the group. He quietly spoke to the men and Bruce saw two of them hang their heads in shame at his friend's words.
As Bruce watched Alfred helped the young maid collect the glasses and he escorted her away from the group. Suddenly Purvis grabbed the butler by his arm and spun him around. Before Alfred could react Purvis punched him hard, knocking him down. "Wayne may let his staff tell him what to do, but servants don't talk to me like that!" the man snarled.
Shocked, Bruce ran over and grabbed Purvis as he was about to hit Alfred again. Dodging a punch Bruce wrestled the man out of the French windows. His blood was boiling, how dare this piece of excrement strike Alfred. Bruce was about to hit Purvis so hard he would knock him into next week when he was stopped by a crisp English voice.
"Master Bruce, it is not good manners to strike your guests! I trust I brought you up better than that."
Bruce looked at his friend in amazement. "You also taught me that a gentleman should respect those who serve him? This piece of slime needs to learn that lesson."
"Teaching this ..gentleman manners are not my concern! Thank goodness. A lack of manners reflects a father's inability to teach his son properly. Please, let him be sir."
Alfred was lent heavily against the door. Bruce went to the man's aid, as he started to walk away Purvis threw a punch. Bruce ducked underneath the blow and watched as the momentum of the man's movements caused him to fall into the pool. A group of guests were stood around the pool laughing at the man stood spluttering in the water.
"I want you and your uncouth friends off of my property, Purvis. No one treats my staff the way you think you can." Bruce saw Leslie helping Alfred towards the kitchen. "For
all your money you're not fit to clean the shoes of the man you just attacked. Alfred was born a gentleman, it's taken you twenty-four years for you to progress to just above
the caveman level. It's not your fault, it's probably in your genes!"
The crowd were laughing at Bruce's words, many of the more drunken party goes were muttering "Ugh, Ugh." to the man in the pool.
Bruce headed for the kitchen where he found Leslie checking Alfred over. "You'll probably have one hell of a black eye in the morning, you don't feel any dizziness or nausea?" Leslie asked. When he shook his head she smiled. "That's good. I really think you should call the police, Alfred. That was an unprovoked attack, he shouldn't be allowed to get away with it." Leslie handed the man an ice pack.
"Making an enemy of Mr. Purvis will not be to anyone's advantage." Alfred said. "Considering the path Master Bruce has chose he doesn't need to make enemies. Anyway there's no serious damage done, I'd best be getting back to check on the caters." Alfred said.
"Sit down!" Bruce ordered, his voice low with anger. "You're going to bed, to rest, no arguments."
Alfred raised an eyebrow and looked at his young employer sternly. "As I recall, Sir, the last time we had this argument, the boot was, so to speak, on the other foot. I am
sure the information you gave me was that mere bruising was no reason for a grown man to take to his bed. That it was just a mild inconvenience. Now knowing how my employer feels about such a minor ailment, it would not look good if I were to take to my bed, now would it!" With that he carefully put the ice pack down and strolled out of the kitchen.
"He's got you there Bruce." Leslie smiled sadly at the young man. "I think that's what Alfred terms 'What's good for the goose is good for the gander.' In other words you're both as bad as each other."
Bruce watched as Alfred handed a thoroughly soaked Peter Purvis his coat. The man just snatched it out of the butler's hand and stormed out of the house with his friends
following. Bruce's scowl lifted as he heard the jokes and comments being made at Purvis' expense.
He found the rest of the party quite enjoyable seeing as most people considered him something of a hero for the way he tackled the young thug.
Bruce woke to the sound of the shower running. Alfred drew back the bedroom curtains and then wished his master a cheerful good morning before placing his breakfast tray on the bed.
Bruce blinked trying to focus on his friend face, but the man remained standing with light behind him.
"How are you this morning, Alfred?"
"Just fine Sir. I will lay your clothes out, then if you have no objection sir I will get off to the clinic as Thursday is my day to help out there."
"That's fine Alfred, will you be back for lunch or are you taking Leslie out?"
"I think sir, we may come back to the Manor for lunch today."
Bruce caught sight of Alfred's heavily bruised face, and winced.
"I don't think it would do Leslie's reputation any good, to be seen out with someone who looks like he's been in a pub brawl." Alfred commented.
"You're sure you're OK Alfred?"
"In the pink, ..purple, blue and yellow it would seem sir! But quite fit I assure you."
Bruce half smiled at his friend's black humour. "Ok Alfred, if you're sure you're all right. I've got some business reports to read, then I may just workout in the cave for the
rest of the morning."
"Very good sir, I will call you when lunch is ready."
By eleven o'clock Bruce had completed reading the business reports. He was about to head off to the cave when the phone rang.
"Wayne Manor!" Bruce said.
"Bruce darling is that you?" asked the fairly harassed voice off Leslie Thompkins. "I was wondering if I could speak to Alfred? I was a little surprised that he didn't call to let
me know he wouldn't be in today! I quite understand that he may not feel up to helping, but a phone call would have been nice." It was obvious from her tone that she was quite annoyed at her friend's lack of consideration.
"But I don't understand Leslie, Alfred should be there with you. He left for the clinic over two hours ago." Bruce said puzzled.
Bruce heard Leslie speak to her assistant. After a moment she was back on the line. "His cars not here Bruce. May be he's broken down."
"Hardly likely, he can fix most faults in ten minutes flat and anyway he has that new cell phone on him." Bruce's face lit up. "I'll give him a call and see where he is."
"Let me know as soon as you have any news Bruce." Leslie sounded worried.
"Bruce auto-dialled Alfred's number, the phone was switched on but no one answered. Bruce was beginning to worry." He called Leslie back at the clinic, she too must be worried because she answered the phone on the first ring.
"He's not answering his phone!" Bruce said trying, but not succeeding, in keeping the concern out of his voice.
"Was he all right when he left you? No dizziness, slurred speech or headaches? Could he walk in a straight line?" Leslie asked.
Bruce had to admit he wasn't sure as he'd still been in bed when Alfred left. He heard Leslie sigh angrily, "He seemed ok, he'd made breakfast and he'd cleaned up before he left." Bruce defended himself.
"I'm sorry dear, I am just a little worried." Leslie whispered "What with him getting hit like that. I should have stayed at the Manor last night and made sure he was ok."
"Look, I'll drive over to the clinic, that way I can make sure he hasn't broken down or been in a minor accident." Bruce said.
The road from Wayne Manor to Gotham passed through some of the most scenic areas in the county. Several places along the route had lay by and picnic areas. Bruce pulled into each one to check if Alfred was there. It was in one of these areas that Bruce found the burnt out remains of Alfred's car.
At first Bruce was sat as if glued to his seat. All he could do was stare at the smouldering wreckage unable to believe what he was seeing. Eventually he managed, to get out of his own car and approach the drivers side of the wreck. As he got nearer he felt a surge of relief when he failed to see a body in the car.
Looking closely at the scene Bruce realised that this had all the hallmarks of several recent robberies in the area. In each case the victims had been locked in the trunk of
their cars. On the last occasion the car had been found burnt out with the body of the driver in the trunk. Bruce swallowed the lump in his throat. He removed a tire iron
from his own car and feeling a sense of overwhelming dread forced the car's trunk open. Recoiling back from the expected sight of his dead friend, he collapsed with a
mixture of shock and relief to discover the car's trunk to be empty.
Bruce could hear a phone ringing. Looking around he spotted a phone booth near the restroom. Sprinting over to it he answered the call.
"Hello, Mr. Wayne" a muffled voice said. "Not been able to find what you were looking for? That could be because we are keeping your goods safe. It seems you're rather attached to your servants, particularly your butler. More like a father than an employee isn't he? Well how much is his safe return worth to you? We thought five million would be a suitable sum. We'll contact you at 18:00 hours with delivery instructions. In the meantime get the money organised, used bills, low denominations." Bruce was look around, whoever was making the call had to be able to see him. It was likely that they were using Alfred's cell phone.
"How do I know Alfred's all right?" Bruce asked, anger and fear waging war inside him.
"You'll just have to take my word as a gentleman for it."
Bruce heard voices laughing. Then the receiver was slammed down.
Shaking from a mixture of anger and fear Bruce headed back to the car. He removed a small case from the trunk and using the content of his forensic kit he combed the area for clues. He found fresh tyre track and traces of blood. He photographed each and took a sample of the blood. When he was sure the site could give him no more clues he headed down to central Gotham first of all to arrange for the five million ransom, then to tell Leslie that their friend had been kidnapped.
Bruce was holding a tearful Leslie close. "But why Alfred, the other people who were robbed were rich? Why pick on Alfred, he hasn't got a lot of money and he wasn't driving a flash car, was he?"
Bruce considered her words. No Alfred had been driving his old Ford. All the other robbery victims had been driving large expensive cars. So why had they chosen Alfred for
a victim and how would robbers know that he was more to Bruce than a simple employee. Then there was the question why would Alfred have left the highway so close to
home.
"He'll be OK, won't he Bruce? You will pay the ransom?"
"Of course I'll pay Leslie, the moneys not the problem. But there's no guarantee that they won't just kill him as soon as we pay up. He could be dead already." Bruce said
quietly. He regretted his words as soon as he'd spoken them when he felt Leslie start to tremble.
"He's not dead Bruce, he can't be I feel sure he's alive. He's got to be."
Bruce contacted Captain Jim Gordon of the Gotham Police and reported the disappearance of his butler. It was two hours later that Gordon appeared at the door of Wayne Manor to report the fact that Alfred's burnt out car had been found and that there were signs of a struggle and blood at the scene. But as to what had happened to Alfred they weren't sure. They were unsure whose blood it was so the young man shouldn't panic. Bruce already knew that the blood was Alfred's. Bruce and Leslie gave their statements to the police. Then Bruce solicited Gordon's opinion on what may have happened. As he hoped for he was given details of the previous cases.
"All of those questioned reported that they had been forced to stop by a Highway Patrol officer. Once they had stopped masked men armed with guns had entered the car and forced the driver to drive to a secluded spot. There they would be robbed and forced into the trunk of the car. The last victim had died when the car caught fire. The official police line was the fire had been an accident." Gordon told them.
"Accident" Sargent Bullock muttered sarcastically. "The guy recognised his assailant and they killed him. You need to pray that's not what's happened to you butler, otherwise you'll need to be looking for new help. And good help's not easy to find now days or so they say."
Gordon saw Bruce's jaw tense and tear form in Leslie's eyes. "Thank you Sargent, why don't you radio in and check if there's any fresh news." Bullock left the house. "I am
sorry, I know how much Alfred means to you both." Gordon said taking Leslie's hand. He looked across at Bruce. "Is there anything else you know that may help us?"
Bruce shook his head.
"You must have some idea who you're looking for!" Bruce said.
"Statement indicate that five men are involved, all medium height, medium build no distinguishing marks, young, early to late twenties. All well spoken. That's all we have
Bruce, as soon as we know more we'll be in touch. In the mean time if you think of anything that may help us let us know." With that Gordon left.
"Why didn't you tell him about the ransom demand!" Leslie asked, her anger clear in her voice.
"Because I don't want anyone blundering around, getting Alfred killed. I can take care of this!"
"Who will be saving Alfred, Bruce Wayne or Batman?"
"Both!" Bruce muttered.
"And if, God forbid, the worst happens and we lose Alfred, who will be taking the blame. Will Bruce Wayne be able survive that eventuality?"
"We won't lose him, I won't let anything happen to Alfred!"
Leslie followed Bruce down to the cave. "Well how do we go about finding Alfred?"
"We, there's no we, in this Leslie I'll find Alfred, I don't want you involved."
"I am involved Bruce, and if you try and stop me helping I'll be on the phone to Captain Gordon to tell him Bruce Wayne is holding out on him!"
