Wayne of Gotham Read Online Free PDF Page A

personal assistant. Those were the titles that I gave you with the raise. You seemed pleased enough at the time, remember?”
    â€œYes, sir, I remember it well,” Alfred replied with a sniff. “Although I do still seem to be making your meals and dusting the banister.”
    â€œExactly.” Bruce held up the horrific gangster dummy with the card attached to its hand as he walked quickly past Alfred up toward the main investigation platform. “I, on the other hand, have got to do my job and fathom why the Spellbinder was herself spellbound by the Ventriloquist’s Scarface dummy and the meaning of this strange invitation.”
    â€œBut I already have one, sir.” Alfred shrugged.
    â€œWhat are you talking about?” Bruce said, setting the dummy down on the testing bench.
    â€œThis invitation,” Alfred replied, pulling an identical card out of the breast pocket of his jacket.
    Bruce frowned. “Where did you get that?”
    â€œWhere did anyone get them?” Alfred shrugged, turning the card over in his hand. “Everyone in Gotham and the surrounding municipalities received one today. It’s taken over the news reports.”
    â€œEveryone?” Bruce asked. He moved to the Batsuit locker as Alfred spoke, pressing the release points on the new Batsuit as he moved. The arms’ exomusculature released from the attachment points at the shoulders, unsealed, and pulled free down both arms. The shoulder segment released next from the torso manifold, taking the cape with it over his head. He quickly placed each in its supporting rack position.
    â€œThey say there was a computer error at the Gotham Powerball Lottery offices that generated the mailing of these defective cards to everyone in the city. There is one on the foyer mail table addressed to you as well.”
    â€œThat’s no computer error,” Bruce said, sitting down on the bench next to the locker, releasing his boots, and then pulling them free. The Utility Belt—a power supply for the Batsuit—he set into the charging station built into the locker. “It’s a cover story and a rather hastily baked one at that.”
    Bruce stood up. Still wearing the long microtube garment that kept him cool beneath the powered armor, he stepped back to consider his latest incarnation of the Batsuit.
    It’s a good design. Not perfect. It will be better next time.
    â€œMaster Bruce?”
    Bruce reached over and snatched the invitation out of Alfred’s hand. “I’ve got work to do, Alfred. That will be all.”
    Alfred’s eyebrow seemed to pull his nose into the air as he started climbing the stairs. There was a secured elevator that would take him up to the Manor but not until after another two-story climb up into the darkness of the cavern. “Of course, sir. Will you be expecting breakfast?”
    Bruce sat down on a stool at the lab bench and switched on the light of his large magnifying glass. He turned the card over and over beneath it. The card appeared to be common except for the printing. There was something strange about the ink …
    Bruce looked up.
    â€œAlfred, did you say something?”
    â€œJust asking if you wanted your breakfast, sir.”
    There was a plaintive quality in Alfred’s voice that Bruce could not remember having heard before. “Yes, I would. Thank you, Alfred.”
    Alfred nodded and began again to climb the stairs.
    Bruce tried to look closer at the card but was suddenly distracted by a smell that connected in his memory. It was a warm, musty smell of autumn leaves and green grass. It reminded him of laughter.
    â€œAlfred?”
    The old man stopped on the stairs. “Yes, sir?”
    â€œWhat is it like outside?”
    A second silence stretched between them filled with thought.
    â€œIt is the promise of a beautiful day, Master Br—It is a beautiful day, sir,” Alfred responded as he looked down on the circle of