Chapter 8: Orphanage
Leaning back in his chair, Bruce sighed. "You're nothing like a butler…"
As he spoke, he was about to offer the only chair he was sitting on.
"No need."
Avery stopped him just in time, then snapped his fingers with a sharp "pop." An identical chair appeared right in front of the desk, facing Bruce.
With no other choice, Bruce sat back down, mumbling under his breath, "Fine. Magic…"
He was sure Avery was doing this on purpose.
"So, can we start now? Tell me you're not planning to have a cup of coffee before we begin," Bruce said dryly.
Avery sat down gracefully, crossing his hands over his lap, smiling. "Typically, I prefer tea."
Bruce shook his head. "British…"
Ignoring the comment, Avery dove straight into the matter at hand.
"It's actually quite simple," Avery began. "We all know that reality isn't a crime drama where you have to play mind games with criminals to get to the truth. Finding clues boils down to a few methods—searching, investigating. If you dig deep enough into someone's life, you'll always find something useful."
Bruce nodded in agreement. That was exactly what he had intended to do.
So, when you joked about me going to jail for invading privacy, you had already done your own investigation?
Avery had no way of knowing what thoughts were running through Bruce's expressionless face, and even if he did... well, it wouldn't really change anything.
He continued, "Since there's nothing much to find directly from Hans Cole, I started by looking into the people around him—his parents, wife, neighbors, coworkers. Eventually, I found something suspicious about his wife."
As Avery tapped his fingers on the table, the rhythmic sound seemed to intensify the suspense in the room.
"His wife was an orphan, adopted from the Williams Children's Home."
Williams Children's Home.
Bruce had heard of it. Since returning to Gotham, he'd been considering setting up a charitable organization, so he had taken the time to familiarize himself with the key players in the city's welfare scene.
It was a large orphanage, well-known throughout New Jersey, located in Gotham's Upper East Side. Its headmistress, Margaret Williams, was revered and even called "the mother of all orphans," a title that carried great prestige.
But now, things were beginning to seem off.
"You think the orphanage is suspicious?"
"Very much so. I discovered that about ten years ago, there was an outbreak of influenza. The official report from the orphanage claimed only a few children died, but in reality, over a hundred kids vanished without a trace during that period."
Bruce's brow furrowed, his expression darkening. He hadn't expected the situation to be this severe. After a moment of thought, he asked, "So you're saying the orphanage is involved in child trafficking?"
"Not just that. I suspect they might also be running a prostitution ring. You know how it is in this city—there's no shortage of devils walking among men."
Bruce's face grew grim, anger flickering in his eyes. The sheer horror of the situation, involving the exploitation of children, was enough to enrage him.
At the same time, Bruce was already considering how to resolve the issue. Margaret Williams, to have gotten this far, surely had the backing of some influential capitalists or officials.
The challenge in this case wasn't necessarily uncovering the truth—they already knew part of it. The key was how to gather enough evidence and find witnesses willing to risk coming forward and testify in court.
And most importantly—how to ensure these demons received proper justice.
Otherwise, even if they exposed Margaret's crimes and sent her to trial, she might only spend a few months in prison, enjoying a vacation-like experience before walking free, completely unscathed. This sort of thing wasn't unheard of.
Of course, this was all speculation based on the current information. As more details came to light, there might be further twists to the story.
"Do you need my help?" Avery asked with a smile. "If I use magic, I could easily resolve everything. I might be just a novice wizard, but using hypnosis to make them confess willingly is still within my abilities."
Though, in truth, Avery personally preferred the idea of stringing those scumbags up like slabs of cured meat, hanging their bodies outside the orphanage gates, while displaying the evidence of their crimes for all to see. That way, not only would the truth be revealed, but the root of the problem—the people creating the problem—would also be eradicated.
However, he knew Bruce wouldn't agree with that approach. If he voiced such thoughts, Bruce would only grow increasingly suspicious of him.
Avery was well aware that Bruce harbored doubts about how he'd suddenly learned magic during his time away. Heh, Bruce was a cautious man—despite his excellent acting, it was clear he had his reservations.
As for why Avery chose not to hide his magical abilities… Well, if he kept it a secret, it would only make using magic more inconvenient, forcing him to be unnecessarily restrained in everyday situations. That wasn't something Avery could tolerate. The effort wouldn't be worth the result.
Besides, it didn't matter much whether or not he hid his powers, as long as Bruce didn't go around spreading the word.
At this point, Bruce had already figured out a course of action, naturally ignoring Avery's suggestion. He picked up the newspaper Avery had brought back and pointed to an entire block of text in the lower-right corner, saying, "There's a charity gala the day after tomorrow. I've previously indicated my interest in getting involved in philanthropy, so I'm sure they'll invite me. I'll make contact with this Margaret Williams publicly at that event."
"And privately?" Avery looked at him.
"I'll visit the orphanage tonight," Bruce Wayne replied, already thinking about how he would proceed after dark. As he contemplated his plan, his eyes happened to skim over the headline and another piece of news on the same page.
The headline was, unsurprisingly, about his "drunken" act of setting Wayne Manor on fire the previous night. But that wasn't the focus. What caught his attention was a smaller article in the corner.
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