Review or don't. Just enjoy!

(Also, this is my first attempt at an actual mystery type mystery story...so give me a break. Mysteries are freaking hard to write!)

The Shadowbox Caper

Prologue

If they were careful they could get it done in time for the next tour group.

They had to be precise, quick, but as gentle as a soapstone sculptor. For truly, it was a great work of art they were in the midst of creating. Everything would be perfect and chaos would swirl and mingle together to create the finest piece that Gotham City had ever seen.

Just a little more time was needed, but already they could hear the sound of the footsteps falling, echoing like metallic ticking of some damned clock.

"We are now entering the Judge Rita Bayer Wing of the Museum, where all the historical artifacts relevant only to Gotham City are kept," the tour guide said, her voice warbling across the glass cases of the historical museum like the sounds of the dead coming through an old gramophone.

Just a few more seconds and the message would be made clear.

"Now, this is one of my personal favourite wing's in the museum as it houses, not only the parchment of the very first land purchase made for the hamlet of Old Gotham, but it also has one of the most enduring and quirky oddities. We're very lucky to have such a treasure housed here."

There was so much blood, it made the task at hand sticky and slick, but it was the only way to be heard.

Blood spoke louder than a mere voice.

"As you can see, due to a very generous donation from Judge Bayer's daughter Miss Mae Bayer, all the items within this wing are well protected and subject to very thorough around the clock protection." The woman went on, drawing nearer.

Stepping back from the work of art, over the dead body of a guard, they surveyed their work one final time, before fleeing on quiet, shadow-like feet into the dim expanse of the museum.

"Now, this is my favourite piece in the wing, the mummified hand of one of the inhabitants of the Dutch settlement, the only trace of a body that was found after a mysterious disappearing act by the rest of the settlers. The hand is believed to have belonged to Mrs. Van Der Hout, the midwife of the settlement. Some claimed she was a white witch who could only be felled by dark magic. Not much is known of what happened to the rest of the settlers—"

A scream from her group, had the guide turning on the exhibit they were approaching so fast her glasses flew from her face and clattered into a puddled of what looked like dark—

Oh God.

It was blood.

As she absently retrieved her glasses, too in shock to think about crime scenes or contamination, she slipped them on and peered up at the shadowbox which should have held the withered, mummified hand which clutched a bouquet of dried periwinkle, there was only a mangled and bloody fresh hand holding a dagger.

Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

Chapter One

Sitting at his desk, Edward Nygma, somewhat reformed genius rogue, and all around mess of a human being, sat studying his trembling hands and trying in vain to will them with his mind to stop.

The trembling had begun after the incident with Aesop.

He didn't know what was wrong with him, it wasn't like he had never been in a cage, strung up by a madman.

That was a typical Friday night for him.

No. He didn't know what was wrong with him, but whatever it was, it wasn't physical.

It's in your head, Edward. Because you're not right, you never were. You are a broken human with a weak will and you will succumb in the end.

Finishing the last of the Scotch in his little tumbler, he jabbed at the call button on his desk.

"Sophia?" He inquired in a drink roughened tone, too many late nights fueled by coffee, too many early mornings scowling at the rising sun on his way to the office.

"Yes, Mr. Nygma?"

"Did you pick up my prescription at lunch as I asked?"

"Yes, sir."

"I could use them, please."

Presently his curvaceous young secretary popped into the office with his bag of pills and a cheery smile.

"Here you are, sir," she chirped.

Waving his hand in a beckoning manner for her to dispense his pills, he poured himself another round of Scotch.

Sophia handed him his afternoon dose with sombre dark eyes as he held up his tumbler, prepared to down his meds with it.

"Should you really be taking those with—"

He silenced her with a simple look, popping the pills back and downing them with a wash of Scotch.

The girl was awfully young and had no secretarial experience when she came to him after his last one left due to – well – due to being a little tied up with whatever Pamela had secured her with. It had caused a rash that turned nasty fast and it scared the last one off.

Sophia, however, seemed to be made of a little sturdier stuff.

"New skirt?" He inquired as she moved about his office, tidying things here and there, filing paperwork he couldn't be bothered to file.

"Yes," she exclaimed proudly, spinning to show it off to him. "Do you like it?"

"I wouldn't know, the yellow colour is blinding me."

"Don't be mean just because you're a victim of fashion, sir," she returned sharply, heading for the doorway.

"Don't you have a job to do?" He growled.

"Lay off the Scotch," she sing-songed on her way out.

"Lay off the yellow," he called after her.

Still, he tucked his bottle away, downing the last tumbler he'd have for the day and returning to eyeing his shaking hands.

God, he really needed a case. Something that would stretch his brilliant mind, give it a good run for its money. It had been weeks.

Weeks and he was left high and dry like Noah's Ark left up on that mountaintop after the great flood.

Just leave. Go back to how it was. Fit back into that hole, you square peg. You're not this man. You're not this creature.

Inhaling deeply, he thrust his trembling hands through his hair and ruffled it, the movement bumping his mouse and kicking his computer back into life from its sleeping state.

He had to find something to do, to keep this urge tamped down. He would be the better man, he had to be. Edward Nygma was stronger than this.

Clicking around on the internet, he made his way to the Gotham Now website and checked on the recent events, small things that The Bat would have no time to take care of.

Judge Bayer's Daughter Missing: Slaughtered Security Guard and Ominous Warning

The headline caught his attention and he clicked on the article.

Judge Bayer's Daughter Missing: Slaughtered Security Guard and Ominous Warning

Gotham City Historical Society was shocked Tuesday morning during a guided tour, when the deceased body of an unnamed security guard was found under the vandalized case of the hand of Mrs. Van Der Hout, one of the museum's most prized possessions. While considered unrelated by the Gotham City Police Department, the museum's benefactor Judge Rita Bayer's daughter, the wealthy heiress Mae Bayer, has gone missing with no word yet. Suspicious circumstances surrounding the vandalizing of the case has led reports to believe the two cases may be connected, but no confirmation yet from the GCPD.

Edward pushed back from his desk and moved to his window.

That sounded interesting, but he had to be careful, GCPD didn't really like ex-cons solving their cases and making them look like the buffoons they were. He didn't need to be harassed by them on top of everything else.

But the case was curious and that crummy report made by some blog monkey left a lot to the imagination.

"Mr. Nygma?" His call box buzzed. "Selina Kyle here to see you."

Edward's heart froze in his chest and he immediately tensed.

She was the last person he wanted to see right now.

The last time he saw her, her and those other femme fatales had used him as bait. They had played on his soft spot for the lot of them.

Well. Maybe not Pamela. She could get root rot for all he cared.

Moving to his desk, he hesitated, before touching a shaking finger to the button.

"I can't see her right now, Sophia, I have a case," he said.

The box was silent for a moment, before Selina's seductive purr came through.

"Too busy for me, Eddie?" She asked.

He eyed the call box.

The woman was already entering his office by the time he thought of a convincing lie and he tensed up, steeling himself for her, hardening his already battered spirit.

She looked so effortlessly beautiful in a grey knitted oversized sweater and black leggings tucked into leather boots. Her hair had grown a little longer since last he saw it and she had it bobbed in an old flapper style.

"Avoiding me?" She asked softly, taking a seat across his desk from him.

He hid his shaking hands by crossing his arms against his chest. "What do you want, Selina?"

If his hard tone hurt her, she didn't show it, only blinked at him. "I came for a visit."

He scoffed. "Somehow I don't believe you just walked here for a chat."

"You look like hell, Eddie."

"Contrary to what you believe," he began roughly, knowing full well how he looked. It had been a couple of days since he had the energy to shave. "I am quite busy, Selina. Please, get to your point."

"You're still mad?" She asked.

"About what?" He inquired. "I could care less how you and your friend's treat me, Selina. I'm a grown man, my feelings remain intact."

"Eddie, you know we wouldn't have let anything happen to you," she said. "Despite what you think, Harley and I kind of like you."

"Kind of," he replied. "It's fine, Selina. You can clear your conscience. I absolve you of your sins, if that's what you're seeking here."

Reaching across his desk, she picked up his tumbler and sniffed it.

Edward scowled deeper.

"No one's seen or heard from you in months," she said, putting his tumbler back. "I'm just here to check on you."

"Look at me," he returned, pushing to his feet. "I'm still alive."

Grabbing his fedora from the hook by his door, he pulled it on low over his eyes and said, "you can tell everyone that I'm not dead yet."

At the door he practically collapsed on a small, fierce eyed woman, who stood before a flurried looking Sophia with a look of utter determination.

"You are Edward Nygma, are you not?" The woman demanded, her hard grey eyes looking him up and down.

"Depends on who's asking," he returned, quirking his brow at this austere woman who dared barge into his office.

"I'm Rita Bayer," the woman said. "Judge Rita Bayer."

Raising his eyes to Sophia, he tilted his head to wordlessly tell her it was fine.

"What can I do for you, Judge Bayer?" He asked, moving back to his desk, ignoring the fact that Selina had moved during his interaction with the woman to perch on the corner of his desktop. "Please, take a seat." He motioned the woman to sit as he took his own seat behind his desk once more.

The woman refused with a shake of her head. "I'm told you're the best private detective in Gotham City. Despite your sordid past," she added with a slight sneer.

"I…suppose," he replied cautiously. "But we're heavily encouraged to call ourselves private investigators now. Red tape laws, you understand."

The woman sniffed. "My daughter is missing."

"So I've heard."

"I will pay you to find her and return her to me safely."

Edward glanced over at Selina, wondering why she was lingering. No one had said anything, so he figured if Judge Bayer didn't care, he didn't.

"I don't know, Your Honour," he stated, easing back in his chair and setting his legs up on his desk. "I have quite a few cases going right now."

"One hundred thousand for her safe return, plus an additional fifty thousand if you can keep the press from making a mess of this whole affair." The woman stated.

Touching a hand to his tie and smoothing it down to keep it from curling at those numbers, Edward dropped his legs again and leaned in across his desk. "You have no faith in the GCPD?"

"I'm willing to do anything to get my only child back," the Judge said. "They are dragging their heels too much for my liking."

"Okay, Your Honour, you have my attention. Tell me everything."

At this point the woman finally acknowledged Selina, eyes darting to her.

After an awkward moment of silence where no one said anything, Edward sighed as Selina smiled a little and adjusted her position on the desk.

"She's my associate," he explained, knowing it would be harder to get rid of a stubborn Selina Kyle then explain her persistent presence. "Anything you tell us, will remain confidential throughout the case. I have a legal form we can sign if it worries you."

"It's a very delicate matter, I'm afraid," the woman said, her iron will suddenly rusting a little.

"Tell us everything from the beginning," Selina said gently, in a tone almost foreign to her.

Edward frowned, but said nothing, eyes on the Judge.

"Mae had problems," the Judge began, suddenly eyes on her hands clasped in her lap. "She was my little girl and…I did my best, but I was a single mother working to make ends meet in the early days. She wasn't an evil girl, you must understand, but…"

"She was a thief," Selina said.

Edward quirked a brow at this as the Judge raised her head and eyed Selina sharply.

"I know things," Selina said with a shrug.

"It wasn't just the petty theft," Judge Bayer spat angrily. "She was just bad! She rebelled against everything. If I said it was day, she'd say it was night. In high school she fell in with the wrong group of girls…I thought private schools sieved out the public chafe. But, if there was wickedness, Mae would find it and she did. Cocaine, alcohol, men, women, she didn't care one bit for her reputation! And there I was, trying to keep my job on the bench, cleaning up behind her. And then two years ago she dragged home this…I guess you could call him a man, named Bo…Bo Hendrickson. She called him Bo-Rude. I'm sure he was a drug dealer or a pimp or something sleazy. He had that stink about him."

"Mae still lived at home?" Edward asked.

The Judge nodded. "I didn't mind. I love my little girl, I do. And when she isn't being a wicked girl, we get along well and the company is pleasant. I just wished she would keep her riff raff out of my home."

"Tell us about the disappearance," Selina urged, still using that gentle tone of hers.

"Three days ago I noticed Mae's car in our garage, but when I searched our home I couldn't find her. I didn't think much of it then, she could have gotten a ride from one of her friends or…sometimes she jogs along the bay. After what happened at the museum yesterday," the woman paused and suddenly a choked sob escaped her and she dropped her head.

Selina slipped off the desk and approached her, kneeling by the woman's side and taking her hands.

"I thought…maybe they had Mae."

"Who's they?" Edward asked.

"The ones who left the message at the museum, that…hand."

"A hand?" Selina asked.

"Maybe you should tell us about this incident at the museum too," Edward said. "I heard speculation that it could be related to your daughter's disappearance."

Judge Bayer bit her bottom lip hard. "My daughter was a patron of the museum, I have no real knowledge about the incident there. I'm not the curator. I only know that the incident occurred in my wing and I know it was a message for me. The GCPD said they were looking in to it."

"Even for a Judge like you?" Edward asked.

Judge Bayer frowned a little. "I indicted a few of their ranks last year for helping themselves to the evidence lock up. Let's just say the GCPD isn't really fond of me at the moment."

"An honest Judge locking up crooked cops," Selina mused. "This case just keeps getting better and better."

Edward shot her a warning look. She was most definitely not going to get too invested in this case.

"I worked hard to get where I am," the woman said. "I fought sexism and corruption and I won't uphold the unspoken rule of 'the boys club'."

"Commendable," Edward said. "But one thing is left unanswered by you."

"Which is?" The Judge demanded.

"Where is Mae's father?"

The woman scowled. "I don't see how—"

"Just humour me," he broke in. "Every little bit helps."

"He was never in the picture."

"And his name?"

"It doesn't matter," the woman growled, seemingly growing agitated. "He got me pregnant, he probably doesn't even know he has a nineteen year old daughter."

"Time matters in a case like this," Edward stated firmly. "Tell me now or I'll have to waste precious hours finding out on my own."

"I was young," the Judge said.

"You're what? Forty now? Fifty?" Selina asked.

How old are you, Edward? Too old to be playing nice. You're not made for being the good guy.

Sighing, Edward touched a finger to his temple and rubbed it hard.

"Forty." The woman sighed. "I met him in law school."

"His name, Your Honour," Edward insisted.

"Temple Fugate," she stated, raising her chin and levelling him with a stony, challenging gaze.

Edward managed to keep a straight face, but he couldn't resist saying, "time really is of the utmost importance here. Isn't it?"

The Judge must have known exactly what he meant as she actually flushed. "Well…we all make mistakes."

"But you got a daughter out of it," Selina said.

Sweeping to his feet, Edward beamed. "We'll be in contact when this case is solved, Your Honour." He assured her.

"That's it?" The Judge asked.

"That's all I need. I may want to look around your daughter's room, if possible, maybe see if I can find some clues at your home?"

"That will be fine," the Judge said. "And I'd like you to sign that confidentiality agreement, if possible."

"Of course," Edward said, leading the woman to the door and out into his waiting room to finish up with the Judge. He'd return to admonish Selina afterwards, give Catwoman the official heave-ho from his case.

"Both of you," the Judge added sternly.

Frowning, Edward turned to Selina who smiled serenely and accompanied them.

"You're not helping out," he growled lowly to her as she passed him.

"We'll see," she murmured.