The couple spent a good three minutes staring angrily at each other. Finally Bruce relented. "I drop the money off with tracking devices fitted. I'll have the Batmobile trailing me at a safe distance. Once the drop's made then I use the Batmobile to follow the money to Alfred. When I know where he is then you contact the police, anonymously
from the cave, then I'll go in and make sure he's safe."
"So you're expecting me to sit here and wait. No way, I am coming with you. If Alfred's hurt you'll need a doctor on hand."
"No way Leslie, Alfred will be furious if I put you in danger. He'll kill me if anything happens to you. I am not willing to take that risk. I need you here monitoring the tracking devices from the main satellite links. It'll be your job to provide me with information if I lose the mobile link and to keep me up to date with what the police are up to. It's what Alfred would be doing if this were any other case. Plus I don't need to be worrying about you as well."
Leslie sighed deeply. "All right, show me what I need to do."
By 5 o'clock Leslie was proficient enough with the radio and satellite navigation system to keep Batman up to date with the information he would need. They both headed toward the kitchen for tea. It was only when they entered the pristine, empty room that both of them were hit by a profound sense of loss. Bruce couldn't ever remember entering the kitchen and not finding Alfred or at least signs that he was around. He remember coming home from school to cosy tea's. As a young boy, sitting on his friend's knee near the fire while Alfred listened to him reading. And more recently the pair of them working on plans for the Batmobile at the kitchen table. He looked across at Leslie, she too seemed to be lost in her own memories of this room and the man who brought it to life. She had taken Alfred apron off the hook next to the door, but instead of putting it on she sat down on Alfred's favourite chair and hugged it to her.
Bruce busied himself making tea and getting cake out of the pantry. As he removed the last slice of fruitcake from the tin he felt a surge of intense rage towards who ever had taken his friend. His vow never to take another life was one he would happily forsake if they had hurt Alfred. This was personal, Alfred was his family and he wasn't going to stand by and let another two-bit lowlife steal his family again. He heard Leslie gasp, looking over his shoulder he saw the woman's horrified face staring at him. Her eyes were focused on his hands. Bruce looked down and saw that the tin he had been holding had been crushed like so much aluminium foil, blood was dripping from a cut on his left palm.
Bruce walked past Leslie, dropped the tin into the trash, and then cleaned the cut under the faucet. Leslie applied a Band-Aid to the cut. "Bruce are you sure you're detached
enough to do this? Maybe it would be better to let the police handle it!"
"I can do this better than any police force Leslie."
She looked at him concerned, but refrained from asking any more questions.
"We need to be heading back to the cave. I want to record the call. Bruce picked up the cups of tea and placed them and the plate of cakes on a tray.
At exactly 18:00 the call came through.
Bruce was seated at the computer with a trace and record subroutine set up. On the second ring Bruce pressed the button to the speakerphone.
"Bruce Wayne." he said using the voice of his public persona.
"Are you willing to pay for the return of your goods, Mr. Wayne? The goods are slightly damaged but not past repair."
Bruce felt Leslie's hand grip his shoulder in a reflex action. "I want to make sure of that for myself."
"Sorry, you'll just have to take my word for it!" was the reply.
"Then the deal's off because your words not good enough." With that Bruce ended the call.
Shocked Leslie pulled Bruce around to face her. "Bruce what did you just do? What if they don't call back. What if they kill him?"
"What if he's already dead?" Bruce asked his eyes full of intense pain. "I need to know now; I cannot stand not knowing."
They stared at each other for a few minutes, each seeing a reflection of their own pain and fear in the others face.
The phone rang again. Bruce pressed the button on the console. "Master Bruce." said a slightly slurred English voice.
"Alfred, are you all right. What have they done to you?" Bruce asked elation at the fact his friend was alive mixed with fear that he sounded ill. He could feel Leslie gripping
his arm.
Another voice broke in, "Your friend just took a bit of a beating when he tried to escape. Nothing serious, just a few slaps."
Bruce's hand convulsively closed on the pen he was holding snapping it in two. He quietly vowed to dish out a few slaps in return.
"Down to business Wayne. You drive to the Westbury Drive Bridge, the one over the railroad. You throw the money over the bridge in garden waste sacks. Then you drive off. No funny stuff otherwise your friend is history. Is that understood."
"When do you let Alfred go." Bruce asked.
"As soon as we're happy that you've done exactly what we asked you to do. You've got your instructions. The ball is now in your court."
Bruce had the money packed to four double strength waste sacks each one containing a tracking device hidden in one of the bundles of notes. He loaded the money into the back of his Red Mustang.
"Bruce are you sure I shouldn't be with you? Alfred didn't sound too good. I could ride along in the Batmobile."
Bruce shook his head. "I need you here Leslie! Just in case I lose the signal. If anything goes wrong you contact the police and give the location from the satellite navigation
system. You're Alfred's insurance."
Leslie looked at the young man as he set off in the Car. "Bruce take care, I want you both back safe and sound!"
As the mustang left the manor gates deep within the Batcave the Batmobile fired into life and using autodrive followed a mile behind Bruce Wayne's car.
The Westbury Drive Bridge was a good choice for paying over the ransom as far, as the kidnappers were concerned. It was dark and secluded. Bruce peered down to the railroad beneath the bridge, but he couldn't see anyone. At exactly 11PM he dropped the bags over the parapet. He waited another couple of minutes then drove off back towards the Manor, as if returning home. Once he was sure he wasn't being followed he stopped the car. Ordered the Batmobile to his location and quickly pulled off his outer clothing to revealed his Batsuite. Removing his cape and cowl from the seat of the Batmobile he completed his transformation into Batman.
Climbing into the Batmobile he contacted Leslie.
"The money has started moving Bru..Batman. It's moving at walking pace towards the road at the side of the railroad track. All signals coming in strong."
Bruce adjusted the mobile tracking unit and was soon watching the reassuring signals overlaid on a map of the area. They were moving south towards the old dock area of
the city. "Looks like they've transferred the money to a vehicle and they're heading east. Keep watching Doc."
The streets around the old docks were covered in litter. The buildings were in the last stages of terminal decay. This once thriving area of Gotham was now a ghost town,
inhabited only by vermin of both the two and four-legged verity. The gentle roar of the Batmobile's powerful engine disturbed both types of rats sending them scurrying for
cover.
Batman had kept a safe distance behind the target vehicle. "They seem to have stopped. The signals now moving at a much slower pace." Leslie informed him. "This can't be right it's stopped in the water."
"Boat." Batman muttered as he parked the Batmobile behind an old warehouse. "There's lot's of old abandoned boats along here. I've activated my homing signal, have you got it on your screen," when he was sure Leslie had he continued, "let me know when my signal lines up with that of the money."
Batman stealthily crept down the side of the wharf. Several times he disturbed rats feeding on the rubbish that littered the rotting boards. The squeaked uneasily and scuttled away.
"Batman, you're level with the other signals," Leslie whispered.
Bruce surveyed the old freighter in front of him. Seeing no one on the deck he moved with catlike steps towards the light coming from the hatch leading to the forward
cabins. No one was on guard outside. Bruce could hear the rumblings of an argument. As he got closer he could make out the words.
"We've got the money, we hand him back. No one said anything to me about killing anyone."
"What if he's recognised us a deeper voice asked. He nearly had my mask off."
"But he didn't. We're not murderers! All we've done is rob a few rich guys, just for kicks. Ok so we've just done Wayne out of a few million but he can afford the loss. But I
draw the line at cold-blooded murder. I don't intend killing anyone or being an accessory to murder."
The man stood in the far corner suddenly stepped into the light. He wasn't wearing a mask, Batman was stood looking at Peter Purvis. "You're already accessories to murder, remember the guy who died in the fire, well that's down to us! Or had you forgotten?"
The four other men in the room turned towards Purvis. "That was an accident, you said it was an accident!"
"He saw me without my mask! We couldn't let him go. So I cut the fuel line and tossed in a match."
The other four men looked on in horror." Look it doesn't matter if it's one murder or two the punishments just the same. I want this guy dead, he had not right to talk to me
like he did and besides what better way to make Wayne suffer than to kill his friend."
Batman moved his position slightly. He could now see a figure slumped in a chair. He was held there by ropes and looked pretty badly beaten. Purvis drew a knife from his
belt, and headed towards Alfred.
Batman fingered the smoke pellets in his hand. Kicking the door open he tossed them into the middle of the group of men. As the cloud of smoke enveloped them Batman set to work. With a series of swift kicks he disabled two of the men. Two more fled the scene. Batman let them go. He knew exactly who they were and where to find them. He wanted Purvis. He wanted to hurt him so bad.
Batman position himself between Alfred and Purvis. With lightening quick slashes of the wicked looking knife, the man tried to intimidate Batman. Narrowing his eyes Batman
watched the man's movements. With a swift kick he sent the knife flying out of Purvis' hand. Two more kicks and the man was sprawled on the floor. Grabbing the man by his shirtfront Batman repeatedly pounded his fist into the man's face. He took great satisfaction in feeling the man's nose break as he struck another blow.
"No, this is not what Batman stands for!" a slurred voice muttered, "For Goodness sake son, don't become as low as them."
Bruce whirled around, his gauntlet bloodied and his eyes wild. As he stared at the barely conscious man in the chair his eyes lost their wild look.
He let go of his victim and quickly untied his friend. Gently he helped him over to an unmade cot. Helping him to lie down Batman checked him over.
"It's nothing just a couple of cracked ribs and bruising. I may just take a couple of days in bed though to get over it. If my employer will agree. He doesn't tend to take this
kind of injury seriously." the older man said in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Bruce tied up his captives then contacted Leslie.
"We need police and an ambulance at this location a.s.a.p. Doc."
"Our mutual friend is in need of some TLC but otherwise he's ok."
"You're going to have to wait for the police Alfred, I can't stay because within minutes of them getting here I expect Gordon will be wanting to know why he wasn't informed
of the ransom demand. I'll be close by until the police arrive."
The man on the cot gave a half smile, "Understood Batman and thank you for everything young man."
Hidden in the shadows Bruce watched as the kidnappers were led away. Purvis left in the ambulance under police escort. Bruce watched as the money was loaded into a security van and as Captain Gordon escorted Alfred to a waiting car.
Once satisfied his friend was safe he headed home.
Leslie was stood waiting for him on the front steps of Wayne Manor. Bruce had changed clothes and cars and was once again his public persona.
They had just enough time to put the Mustang away before the police cars could be seen heading up the drive.
Leslie helped Alfred to his room and checked him over. While Captain Gordon and Sargent Bullock interviewed Bruce Wayne.
After a tens twenty minutes both men left. Gordon's parting words still ringing in Bruce's ears. "We're the law in Gotham Mr. Wayne, not some costumed freak and don't you
forget it. If I catch you holding out on me again I'll arrest you for conspiracy to pervert the cause of justice is that understood!"
Bruce just nodded. "Tell Alfred I'll take a fuller statement tomorrow afternoon." With that Gordon left slamming the door behind him.
Bruce headed for Alfred's room. Leslie was sat next to his bed talking to her friend. But why would five rich young men need to commit robberies? Peter Purvis' parents will
be devastated, they are nice people Bruce. How come someone who has so much turns out so bad."
"Your guess is as good as mine, Leslie." Bruce muttered.
Idle Hands -- Part 2