Huntress
Heroes 
Every hero has a story, not that I'm some kind of hero.
Posts: 47 
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Post by Huntress on Nov 28, 2016 21:50:38 GMT -5
On the positive side of things, Helena now knew the response time of the Gotham City Police, and that they were quite prompt in their arrival. That information would most certainly come in handy in the future, but for now she was sitting in the back of a police car, hands cuffed in front of her rather than behind her back. At least the officer was nice about that, but then again, most people didn’t usually get the call about an upset teenager, possibly a jilted girlfriend, throwing bricks through a storefront window of one of the many Italian businesses that were sprinkled throughout the borough. Helena wasn’t about to contradict the officer’s assumption and decided to further the ruse by cussing in Italian about a random boy. Whether the officer understood her or not, she didn’t care but she was not about to let him know she spoke English. Playing dumb might make it easier to get out of this.
In truth, the reason for the broken window was far more mundane. The business belonged to one of the mafia families that should have been loyal to her own family, that should have informed her father about the forthcoming hit. The anger that rose in her was a natural reaction as she walked by and read the business name, feeling both hurt and betrayed. The fact that Helena had found a loose brick laying nearby could have been considered an act of divine providence, and, after the window had been smashed, she honestly did feel better. Maybe that was why she went quietly to police headquarters after being arrested.
Surprisingly, this was the first time Helena had ever been inside the GCPD. Then again, perhaps it wasn’t surprising, since the last time she was in Gotham, she was only eight years old and no officer in their right mind would arrest someone that young. Even as she was walked onto the main floor, the officer handling her was gentlemanly. Was it due to the fact that she was a woman and dressed as such in a skirt and blouse, or was it something more? Did he recognize her? Helena didn’t think she looked very much like her mother, and she most certainly didn’t resemble her father. She had no identification on her, having left that at where she was staying, just in case this very event happened. Perhaps she was simply over-analyzing all of this. Paranoia was good in small doses, but too much of it at one time was not a good thing.
Upon reaching their destination, a well worn wood desk, the officer gestured to the seat next to it. Once Helena did as he instructed, he left her there as he went to write up his report, presuming that she, being female and likely a foreigner, would simply stay where she was told. Had this the desk been located anywhere else, she likely would have disobeyed immediately, but the vantage point from where she was allowed Helena to get a good view of most of the main floor, its inhabitants, and anything else worth noting. Now all she had to do was figure out when and how to get out of the building without being noticed.
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Post by Batgirl on Nov 28, 2016 22:21:21 GMT -5
Barbara had left her desk to get a cup of coffee when the girl was led in. Imagine the surprise on her face when she saw one of her officers leave the teenager there. This was not an eventuality she was prepared to deal with tonight, but now that it was done, it had to be dealt with.
She trotted up to the officer and offered her coffee to him. "Hey, Phil? Who's that at my desk?"
"Her?" The officer rolled his eyes and shook his head. "She's some kid throwing bricks through windows. I don't speak Italian, but it sounds like she was mad at a boy or something. I dunno. Kids these days." He shook his head again, staring at the empty reports.
Barbara bit her lip and smiled, taking the papers from him. "Let me fill these out. You take the night off. You've been on duty for 19 hours. You need a nap." She put a hand on his shoulder and gently led him toward one of the private offices. "McKean is off this weekend. Nap in his office. I won't tell anyone."
With Phil taken care of, she looked at the reports he had been holding. Damage of private property. Simple enough. But this kid didn't look like a regular delinquent. This kind of behavior was usually second or third offense. Not first. It was interesting enough, she wanted to dig a little deeper.
When she took a seat at her desk, she smiled warmly at the girl in front of her. "Hi there! I'm Barbara. I'll be filling out your report. There were just a couple of questions I had, if you don't mind."
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Huntress
Heroes
Every hero has a story, not that I'm some kind of hero.
Posts: 47
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Post by Huntress on Nov 28, 2016 23:23:17 GMT -5
The last thing Helena had expected was for a woman to sit down in front of her. Where had the male officer gone? She looked around, hoping to see him somewhere. Maybe this woman had simply decided to do some small talk and wasn’t really preparing to try and interrogate her. Seeing both the report file in her hand and the lack of the arresting officer on the floor confirmed Helena’s suspicions. Dissatisfied, she sat back in her chair, and looked over at this new face, trying to assess her.
Red hair and blue eyes, probably Irish or Scottish, and not much older than Helena was. This woman was probably a secretary, file clerk, or the commissioner’s assistant. She was probably sent in to do this interview because of some sort of ‘woman thing’. Maybe the officer assumed that seeing another feminine face would get her to open up and feel horrible about what had happened, essentially wrapping up this bit of case work while he was busy drinking coffee or eating donuts. It didn’t help that this woman seemed to have a full supply of warmth and, what Helena could only assume was perkiness, at her disposal. Still, she was not about to let up on the act. In fact, maybe this could turn out to be a little bit of fun for her.
Helena blinked a few times after Barbara spoke before looking around once more. Acting confused, she finally spoke in Italian, deciding to see how good this girl really was. “You? Where is the officer that brought me in? I’m not about to waste time with some woman who isn’t a real cop. Do you even know what I’m saying, Red?”
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Post by Batgirl on Nov 28, 2016 23:45:25 GMT -5
Barbara blinked. Now she understood why Phil looked so exhausted. Well, that made sense. She shuffled her papers, pretending to try to find any information before looking back up and smiling. "Real cop or not, I'm the one deciding whether you spend a night in jail or not," she said in Italian, her tone sweet. "Your accent gives you away. You're not really from Italy. So, we can do this the easy way in English and I can get you out of here with a warning, or you can yell at me in Italian until we do it the easy way in English a few hours from now."
Her smile widened. She really meant no harm, but she knew how to deal with a rowdy teenager. She'd been one herself not that long ago. Her head bowed back down to her pile of papers and she made some busy work of looking for a pen, giving the girl enough time to make a decision.
"I'm sorry Phil couldn't be the one to do all the paperwork, but the poor guy's been on that beat for 19 hours straight. I thought he could use a nap. A lot of good cops around here run themselves ragged in this city, you know?" Finally finding one that seemed to have enough ink, she sat back up and pulled her chair a little closer to her desk.
"Now, I didn't catch your name. What was it?"
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Huntress
Heroes
Every hero has a story, not that I'm some kind of hero.
Posts: 47
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Post by Huntress on Nov 29, 2016 19:30:51 GMT -5
The surprise on Helena’s face was evident. She had expected the woman to know a few words of Italian, but not this much. It did garner her a small bit of respect, but not very much. “I am closer to being from Italy than you will ever be, having spent much of my life there. But your Italian’s decent, even for an Irish girl. Is your papa on the force? Is that why you’re here?” The question came off partially filled with a bit of snark and part honest curiosity. Having been away from Gotham, it would have been wise to get the lay of the land first, but then again hindsight is twenty-twenty, as they say. As for the comment about her accent, that was a hard jab to take and one she didn’t enjoy being reminded of. Just because she was from an important family in Gotham, that didn’t mean Helena was given the same amount of respect by the other Italian children. They enjoyed reminding her of just how American she actually was.
Helena watched the woman buy time by looking for a pen. She had seen a similar tactic used by nuns trying to persuade bad students into talking and confessing their crimes. Despite her best intentions, a smirk did play on her lips. Smart little redhead. “No, I do not know how the good police of this city run themselves ragged, as you say,” she replied in English, but decided to keep the Italian accent. Not that it was something she could fully get rid of, nor did she want to. She was proud of being Italian, she just hated her family. “I am not very familiar with this city and its police. I assume that they are just a bit different from the ones in Italy? Less likely to take you into a back room and…” she paused, trying to think of how best to word the next phrase so as not to offend the redhead. “Massage a person’s kidneys?”
Helena stopped once again. She was reluctant to give her name, but then again she wanted to make this interview be over with as soon as possible. Biting her lip, she weighed her options before finally giving an answer. “Sofia. Sofia Villani Scicolone.” That was actually the name of a younger girl she knew from school in Europe. She kept saying she was going to be a famous actress when she grew up. Whether that would actually come to pass, Helena wasn’t sure, but she figured the girl wouldn’t mind having her name entered into police files. Maybe it would add a nice bit of scandal to her future, star-studded life. “Care to return the favor and give me yours?” she asked nicely.
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Post by Batgirl on Nov 29, 2016 22:32:38 GMT -5
Barbara stayed quiet at the mention of her father. It was something of a sore spot for her, though her face didn't show it. She loved her father dearly, but she didn't want to accept the fact that no one would have let her work in the police department if it wasn't for him. Instead of answering, she made busy work of filling out a couple of spaces on the report and pretended she didn't understand what was said.
The girl hesitated before giving a name. That much was clear that perhaps she wasn't willing to fully cooperate. Sofia, huh? Barbara searched her memory and seemed to remember a Sofia Scicolone coming through earlier as a witness to an assault. This wasn't Sofia. She wrote down the thought on a separate piece of paper and filled in the name she was given.
"Alright, Miss Scicolone, I'm Barbara." she said, eyes scanning through the rest of the paper. "You'd actually be surprised what the police here like to do sometimes. I've had to clean the interrogation rooms when the janitors were off duty. A couple of the officers here get their kicks mopping the floor with their suspects' faces. Really not pleasant."
She smiled and glanced back down at the paper. "Okay, the arresting officer told me you threw a brick through a window. Would you mind telling me why?"
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Huntress
Heroes
Every hero has a story, not that I'm some kind of hero.
Posts: 47
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Post by Huntress on Nov 30, 2016 7:19:01 GMT -5
Huh, no answer about her father being a police officer. That meant she had either hit the bullseye and she was here just because of her father, or, she had gone against her parents’ wishes and decided to become one. Helena pondered those two options for a moment before finally settling on the second choice. From what she knew of the Gotham police and their methods, Helena couldn’t see this girl following in her father’s footsteps. She likely would have washed out within the first few weeks, denied enrollment, or given the most menial jobs until she decided to quit. Instead, here was this girl playing detective and seemingly enjoying it. Then again, maybe she was brand new. It could be a whole list of possible answers.
“Very nice to meet you, Barbara. I would shake your hand, but as you can see…” she held up her cuffed wrists as if pointing out a joke, and smiled. “The last thing I would want to do is scare everyone else here because a bound prisoner touched a guard without warning.” Her wording was intentional, keeping up the impression that, while not native to Italy, she had spent more time there than in the States and therefore her choice of English words was just a bit off. “I am sure that we could trade stories about what law enforcers do here and in Italy. Violence against people happens, because of the needing to get information, but I do not think that your people just disappear or stay in jail for years because of a minor crime.” This small talk was interesting, and though they both seemed to give tidbits of information freely, it was just that; tidbits. Each were being guarded about what was said.
Helena looked away when the question about the broken window came up. She rocked a bit, as if thinking of how to best answer. “You and I are not so different in age, yes? So you have had boyfriends? I… there was a boy who I was seeing for a few months. Sweet, handsome, very… very good. He could cook, and he loved his mother. That was how I was told to know if they were any good. If they loved their mother,” she said with a brief smile; one that only lasted until her next sentence began. “Then I find out he also loved another girl besides me. He did not tell me this, I had to find out behind his back. So I am angry, mad. He says that it is not anything to worry for. I say he is a liar and I leave. He does not even try to stop me or apologize. That was a few weeks ago. Tonight I saw them walking together hand in hand. They did not see me and, on my way back home, I go past where he works. Again I had anger and there was the brick and where he worked. The store was closed, no one there. Better than hitting him with the brick, yes?” In truth, had Helena encountered anyone she knew from the Mafia, they likely would have been writing her up for assault as well as property damage.
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Post by Batgirl on Nov 30, 2016 13:30:49 GMT -5
Barbara smiled and nodded in understanding. If it was up to her, she'd have the handcuffs removed, but this kind of crime demanded they leave them on during interrogation. She couldn't be promoted to officer if she broke protocol now. Not that it was really going to stop her from letting the girl off with a warning. Throwing a brick through a window is a petty crime that there wasn't really much they could do anyway but report it.
"You're right there," she replied with a smile. "People don't often disappear here for minor crimes, but sometimes they do spend years in jail for practically nothing. It's a fault of the system, I'm afraid. Gotham is a dangerous place, and sometimes spending that time in jail is safest. Crime has only been getting worse and worse lately." And it was true. When she first moved to Gotham after her parents died, it was already dangerous to be out after dark. Lately, though, the mafia had extended control over their turf and put some officers on their payroll. Now the Families could get away with a lot more without police action, and it was sickening.
As the girl began to tell the story, there was very little of it that Barbara could believe. It was all very plain, the way she was telling it. Not the way someone that was in love would speak. The story seemed to be well scripted, though. She'd probably had a chance to think about all of the details on the ride over to the station. But, just like her name, Barbara was going to write down what she was told. No need to make this all more difficult than it needed to be. Besides, she could look into it more on her personal time.
"I can't imagine," she said sympathetically. "I've been too busy for a boyfriend, so I can't say I know what you're going through. But clearly he made a mistake in betraying you like that." She offered a kind smile and began to fill in some more of the paperwork. "It might be a good thing one of our officers was there. From where you were picked up, that's a dangerous thing to do. That restaurant is a front for one of the most powerful mafia families." Okay, so she didn't have to share that she knew, but she could judge the girl's reaction at the news. If her story had an ounce of truth, there would be some level of surprise on the girl's face. If not ... Well, she'd interviewed enough liars to be able to tell the difference.
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Huntress
Heroes
Every hero has a story, not that I'm some kind of hero.
Posts: 47
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Post by Huntress on Nov 30, 2016 21:47:15 GMT -5
“People want to be in jail?” Helena asked, not sure if she properly understood Barbara or not. “How can you say that it is safest in there? You are surrounded by criminals and murderers. How is that best? And how is it that crime is on the rise?” In truth, Helena knew the answer already. Corrupt officers paid to turn a blind eye on what the Mafia was doing. She wondered how many of the people in this room were already on the payroll of some of the other families. She also then wondered if any of them would report the fact that some Italian girl had done a bit of damage to one of their properties. Would they know it was her? For the officers it was unlikely since the last time anyone here had seen her, she was a terrified and crying eight year old girl. She had certainly changed since then. But would the Mafia think anything of it?
Helena snorted as Barbara tried to offer her sympathy. “A mistake? He was a pig and I hope he catches a disease that makes his dick rot away,” she answered, the anger in her voice a bit unexpected. Perhaps she was thinking far too hard about the future plans she had for the various families that betrayed her. That must have been the case since Helena looked up in shock upon hearing Barbara mention, in such a casual manner that the restaurant was a front. Why would she say that and in the open too, where anyone could hear her. Her cheeks momentarily paled as a bout of fear hit Helena. Had this all been a set up? Did this woman know who she really was? Was she one of those corrupt officers? She could almost hear the sound of a handgun being cocked and aimed right at the back of her head. Oh god, had all of this been a mistake?
Mentally crossing herself and saying a small, silent prayer, Helena finally spoke. “A front for the Mafia? Are you sure? How can you tell? He never told me any of this.” The questions were more for feeling out exactly which side Barbara was on, but the fear she was enduring was not faked in the least. “You do not think they will retaliate against me, do you? It was a moment of passion, no disrespect intended, I swear. I will never do it again.”
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Post by Batgirl on Nov 30, 2016 22:27:31 GMT -5
"People don't want to be in jail," Barbara clarified. "They just know there's an extra lock and a few armed security guards between them and the people that want them dead. It's not ideal, but some people have to do what they can to survive." She hated admitting it, but sometimes she wished her father would spend a night in one of the maximum security cells just so she could know he'd be alive the next morning.
When she saw the reaction on the girl's face, she recognized it. It wasn't the kind of fear of someone that found out how bad their mistake had hit them, but the fear of someone that knew she was in danger and thought she'd outsmarted it. What was she doing at that restaurant, and why did she throw a brick through the window? This wasn't about a boy at all. The more questions she asked, the more questions went unanswered.
"Miss Scicolone, take a breath," she said, recognizing the panic. "Please, lower your voice. I only mentioned it to warn you." Some of the officers here were on the payroll for various mafia families. It was impossible to keep track, and impossible to weed them out. "I don't think they will retaliate against you. It was a window, and it was in a bad part of town. As far as anyone is concerned, you've been apprehended. The worst they might do is expect you to pay for a replacement. They might be mafia, but they recognize petty crime when they see it."
She examined the girl's reactions and thought quickly, finally setting her pen down and pushing the paperwork to the side. "Let me level with you. I don't buy your story, but I buy your fear. I want to help. I won't write down any information you don't want me to, and I won't tell anyone who you really are. I just need you to be honest with me. How much do you know about the Cosa Nostra?"
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Huntress
Heroes
Every hero has a story, not that I'm some kind of hero.
Posts: 47
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Post by Huntress on Nov 30, 2016 23:22:30 GMT -5
“You think they are safe in jail. An extra lock and guards do nothing for protection if you are in the same cell with the people that want you dead. You think prisoners behave in jail? That they all obey the rules? How many people did your Al Capone have killed while behind bars? Even he was attacked by another inmate. Two types of people do that sort of thing; the stupid and foolish and those that know they will be stopped only when it is too late,” Helena countered. “Even solitary confinement guarantees nothing.”
This redhead had balls. “Lower my voice? You are the one saying what businesses are and aren’t fronts for the Mafia and in front of everyone too,” she hissed. “So either you are very self-confident and believe they will not go after you, or you are in their pocket. Which is it?” she demanded, keeping her voice low and level, though there was clear and obvious intent in her blue eyes; something that said Helena was not about to be fooled so easily.
But when Barbara spoke for a third time, Helena’s demeanor broke again. This time it was mainly due to the term she uttered. Helena’s expression was a mix of shock, anger, and stunned disbelief, as if Barbara had just done something incredibly blasphemous, and in a way she had. Cosa Nostra was the true name of the Sicilian Mafia. Simply put, it meant ‘Our Thing’ and for a non-member to use that term was unheard of, at least to Helena. “You… you do not have to right to speak those words,” she told her flatly, it being obvious that she felt insulted and was honor-bound to correct this mistake. Even despite her history with the Mafia, and having learned the truth about what her father did, she was still very protective of her heritage. “You are not a member. If I were not shackled, I would backhand you and teach you some respect for what you just said.” Helena’s voice was even and normal, having lost most of the deliberate Italian accent in favor of her lighter, natural one. But what had replaced it was a sense of danger and promise of violence should Barbara overstep her boundaries any further. This was now the girl who would actively seek out fights just to prove her worth.
“You tread on dangerous ground, Barbara. It would have been best if you had just let this Sofia girl off with a warning. You don’t know what you’ve caught. Check the records from ten years ago regarding a hit on a family. I won’t say anything more. Not here. Not now,” she told her in Italian. Having finished, Helena sat back in her chair, her face impassive as she waited for Barbara to decide what to do next.
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Post by Batgirl on Dec 1, 2016 21:52:38 GMT -5
Barbara was never good with dealing with a frantic suspect, and this was certainly the worst time to experiment and find out if she could manage it. There were a lot of things that were being hissed at her and it was getting more and more dangerous that someone would over hear. Not particularly because of the volume, but because of the obvious anger in the Italian's voice.
After all was said, it took her a moment to take a breath so she didn't completely explode. Instead, she spoke through gritted teeth, coldly even. "The last time I checked, I'm the one filing the report and you're the one in handcuffs, so you're going to shut up, sit there, and answer my questions," she hissed. "If you must know, everyone here knows about that front. Even the cop with the top dollar put in his pocket wouldn't turn someone into the mafia just for talking about a single restaurant, just like you didn't get handed over for putting a brick through their property. And around here, I'm just a dumb secretary, so the worst the mafia could do to me is give me a scare so I don't talk again, and I'm not easy to scare."
She stood up and leaned over the desk, possibly in a show of dominance, so close to the girl's face, there could have been real danger there. "Now you listen to me. Even I don't know which cops in here are dirty or clean, so I have to work off the books for everyone's safety. I'm not part of the family. You're right. But I might be the only one around here interested in putting them out of business. Now, since you seem to have known that front was for one of the Sicilian families, I'm asking how much you know so I can keep your ass out of jail and out of the harbor. Now you're going to cooperate. I don't care if you give me half answers, but I expect answers. Is that understood?" She spoke in Italian, just in case there were other people listening in. At least this looked more like she was talking to a petulant teenager. "And as far as you're concerned, I'm Miss Gordon."
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Huntress
Heroes
Every hero has a story, not that I'm some kind of hero.
Posts: 47
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Post by Huntress on Dec 1, 2016 23:58:08 GMT -5
Helena closed her eyes and took a couple of breaths, wanting to keep her own anger in check because clearly this woman, though she knew some things about the Mafia, didn’t understand it in its entirety. Upon opening her eyes, she felt her anger swell once more, so again Helena closed her eyes, this time bowing her head a little and reciting a barely audible prayer in Italian asking for strength and wisdom. When her eyes open this time, she was in control of her emotions. “People might not do anything because of the act, but they might do something because of who caused it.” Why did Barbara not understand what she was trying to say without saying it directly? Was she really that blind? Was she… a secretary? She was being interviewed by a GCPD secretary? But then why the hell did she have the case report and was making notes? No wonder the Mafia was able to do so much against the police; the entire force was under-qualified.
But to go with that under qualification, they apparently had little fear and did not like to be pissed off. Or at least this redhead didn’t like it. But then again, she was also apparently deaf and blind when it came to understanding what Helena was saying. “I am trying to give you answers, just in a roundabout way. I speak names, no matter what language, and people will hear. They will then put two and two together and the mistake that was made ten years ago will be fixed in very short order,” she told her as calmly and cooperatively as she could. But when Barbara mentioned her last name, Helena paused. “Gordon? As in the Commissioner? You’re his daughter?” Though she had only been in Gotham for a short while, it was hard to ignore what James Gordon had been doing for the city. He was perhaps one of the few, if not the only name she could trust.
Leaning forward, Helena grabbed Barbara’s pen and notepad and, after a brief internal debate about consequences, she began to write:
1937, Gotham City, Franco and Maria Panessa, husband and wife, their daughter shouldn’t be sitting here, but she is
Helena figured that using her mother’s maiden name would allow some sense of secrecy and safety, but she was not about to write the family name of Bertinelli, nor was she about to say it. “There is your half answer. Those names. I suggest you start with that and look in the obituaries, Miss Gordon. I’m sure you’ll find the remainder once you do. If you want more specifics… the family that runs the restaurant? They should have been loyal. They were, just to the wrong people. That’s why I threw the brick.”
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Post by Batgirl on Dec 3, 2016 0:49:39 GMT -5
Barbara took a deep breath and sat back down, choosing to ignore her realization that the Commissioner was her father. She kept forgetting that Gordon wasn't a common surname in this department, and people were likely to make the connection sometime. She'd let her anger get the better of her and let it slip, and now she wouldn't be taken as seriously. Perfect.
Just as she was about to throw in the towel and send this girl on her way, her notepad disappeared from her peripheral and reappeared a few moments later. She examined the writing and ... Wait. 1937. Double homicide, maybe? Missing daughter? It rang and unpleasant bell. She'd cross reference the information she was just given, but she was almost sure she knew where it was going to lead. It was a cold case her father had obsessed over for years. One that never added up.
This was more information than she'd ever have dreamed of landing in her lap.
She looked at the girl and offered an awkward smile. "And, in case I have more off the record questions, how can I contact you outside the station?" she asked in Italian. She knew, if her hunch was right, this really was the time for discretion. She understood the anger directed at her when she so freely mentioned the mafia, and she felt bashful for not considering it.
God, if she could solve this case, they'd have to let her be an officer. She'd be more than proving her value to the force, and her father knew her well enough to know she couldn't be corrupted like the other detectives. It was reaching a little high, but she was willing to take the gamble. She had to, if she could find a way to help this girl get closure.
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Huntress
Heroes
Every hero has a story, not that I'm some kind of hero.
Posts: 47
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Post by Huntress on Dec 3, 2016 13:11:41 GMT -5
The look of realization on Barbara’s face was almost a relief to Helena. She finally got it. She finally understood what the hell she was trying to say, and that made all the difference. The knowledge that this woman wasn’t an entire idiot made her relax in her seat a little, but not overly much. She was still in the lion’s den, after all. Just because she might have befriended one person, that didn’t mean she would be able to befriend more.
However, when Barbara asked her where and when they could meet up outside of the station, Helena froze. No, she was not about to do that. She was not suppose to have an ongoing relationship with any of the police. This should have been a one time thing between them; give the woman a half answer and then be on her way. Helena just looked at Barbara, eyes slightly wide, and shook her head a little in answer before answering quietly in Italian. “No. No outside talk. We are done here. I gave you what you wanted.”
But, as soon as she said that, Helena remembered that she was still in handcuffs and Barbara still held those keys, and likely she would keep her here until she got her answers and was satisfied with them. Truthfully, there was no place in Gotham Helena could trust. She had been away for so long, the dynamics of everything had changed, and though she remembered names from her childhood, they were only known in passing since she was kept oblivious of the family business. She didn’t know anyone, anywhere, or anything that could help. Feeling defeated, Helena looked up and around the building and by chance a spire outside the window caught her eye. Churches. They were sanctuary and no member of the Mafia would dare defile anything on those grounds. Off those grounds was another story, but at least inside the building, she might be safe.
St. Swithun’s was where their family had attended mass, it being the oldest Catholic church in Gotham, but unless Gordon herself attended there, it was not a place she would step foot in until everything was finished. Mafia families attended there as well, and it would be one thing, if she weren’t a redhead, but that hair color made Barbara stand out even more. There were a few other churches she could look to; smaller and not as old, but just the same, they were holy ground and, should they be run by nuns it was quite possibly Helena could gain more grace and favor in their eyes than from any parish run by a male priest. “A personal question, Miss Gordon, but are you Catholic? If so, what church do you attend?”
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