6 | Foliage

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Over twenty-four hours had passed, and yet Officer Bard was still nowhere to be found. The GCPD had searched his apartment but turned up nothing that would lead them to his current whereabouts. No bank statements, no letters, no suspicious packages. Nothing. It was as if the officer had vanished with the evening fog.

Not even the patrol car he had been driving had turned up under a bridge somewhere with its windows smashed to pieces and the inside looted down to its bare bones. In a city like Gotham, that was most unusual.

As far as Barbara knew, the Isley mansion had also been searched because of the report made about a "suspicious smell." Turned out that it was because of a skinned deer left in the bathtub. The GCPD had written it off as the work of some delinquents or a deranged hobo that had taken refuge in the mansion.

But Barbara knew better. From what she could squeeze out of her dad, the deer had been skinned only recently, probably the same day it was found. What she had smelled had been rotting in that tub much longer.

So the investigation shifted away from the mansion and to any ties between the mob and Officer Bard. Of course, it was all bullshit. Jason was arguably the cleanest cop on the force, something that couldn't be said for the rest of them. The GCPD was wasting their time, trying to find any dirt on him. They'd be lucky if they found even a speck.

Seeing that the GCPD wasn't going to investigate the mansion any further, Barbara decided it was up to her now. She had vowed she wouldn't let Jason's disappearance go unsolved, and she intended to keep that promise.

Somehow, she had convinced her dad to let her go to the library, promising she would only go there for work. She had appealed to his predictable nature, knowing he would hate for her to be lounging around at home like a bum. Ever the believer in hard work and discipline, he had allowed her to go.

But not without ensuring he would make periodic calls to the library.

"She really has you whipped, Dad," Barbara muttered as she rolled between the large stacks of books. Hoping to find something-anything-that would lead back to the mansion, Barbara thought it would be best to start with the Isley family themselves. And what better way to start than with The Five Founding Families of Gotham?

With the calling card she had gotten from Mrs. Kringle clutched in her hand, she scanned each row of the worn, faded spines until her eyes spotted the title she had been looking for.

Pulling the book out, she blew over its dust-coated cover until the title engraved in blood-red letters could be read at the front. The book was much thicker than she expected because honestly, who would have thought there'd be this much information on a couple of spoiled snobs?

Unable to continue balancing the book in one hand, Barbara was forced to place it on her lap and read from there.

"My God," she groaned as she felt its weight press down on her thighs. This thing really was heavy. "What else did these people do besides squabble with each other and get drunk at parties?"

She was careful not to tear the crinkled yellow pages as she flipped through them towards the table of contents. Using her finger, Barbara skimmed through each name that served as a chapter title. Wayne. Elliot. Kane. St. Cloud.

"Isley." Barbara smiled to herself as she read the last heading out loud. Quickly turning to the end of the book, her eyes immediately started searching for the mention of a "Pamela." She skimmed through the self-indulgent ramblings that traced the Isley lineage from the beginning, not having to look far before her eyes came to an abrupt stop. As did the rest of the chapter.

Pamela Lillian Isley, the only child of Marc and Rose Isley, was born May 2nd, 1902. Being a beautiful and affluent woman, she was expected to marry the renowned doctor, Thomas Wayne. Their engagement had been arranged by both families but was suddenly retracted by Thomas after a scandal came to light. Embarrassed by both the scandal and break-up, the Isleys quickly married their daughter off to a celebrated professor and botanist, Jason Woodrue, in 1930. Shortly after, the couple moved to Seattle, Washington, where Professor Woodrue was conducting research at the University of Washington. Two years later, a mysterious fire broke out in Marc and Rose's bedroom and they were tragically killed. Nothing else was heard on Pamela and her husband, and it is assumed they remained in Seattle for the remainder of their lives.

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