Chapter Text
It was an ordinary morning, all things considered. Elijah Van Dahl took breakfast as he was wont to do, idly nibbling on toast spread with marmalade as he read the paper.
He idly glanced through the society pages, the business section, the tidbits about sports, before he found himself gazing at the obituaries.
Most of the people featured were older than he by some ten or twenty years, so Elijah didn't necessarily feel his mortality (even if his doctor made dire predictions about the state of his heart if he didn't exercise more caution concerning his diet). So, he couldn't explain why he was looking at the section with the strangest feeling of dread until he saw the announcement.
Gertrud Kapelput was dead.
She had been a vision, Elijah remembered wistfully. Beautiful, an excellent cook, and the most delightful companion to while away the hours. Mother and Father might have thought Elijah had fancied himself in love with her when he had begged them to allow them to marry. But what they hadn't realized (and what Elijah had) was the instant connection, the feeling of absolute rightness with the world whenever he gazed upon her face, heard her soft laughter, felt her hands in his when he held her close.
There had been no other woman like her, before or since, much to his parents' consternation.
To see her death notice in the paper... Elijah wondered if his heart had weakened just a little more because of the depths of his sadness.
As he looked over the announcement, he stopped. And read it again.
In Gotham, Ms. Gertrud Kapelput, beloved mother, aged 50.
Gertrud had had a child. There were no details, of course, it being a death notice and not the full obituary Gertrud deserved, but Elijah couldn't help a feeling of astonishment.
Gertrud had had a child.
Elijah had not been able to share his life with his beloved Gertrud, but he could do what he could to ensure that her child never wanted. Well, as much as he was able, depending on how old the child was in question.
Elijah had no notion of who this young person could be or where they might be found, but he knew just the man to seek them out.
***
Elijah remembered quite vividly why he hadn't attended parties in several years since he'd been apprised of the condition of his heart. Still, he could brave whatever crush of people he needed in order to find his old friend.
Luckily, his old friend had no trouble finding him.
James Gordon -- who had been knighted within the past year, according to the papers -- made his way through the assemblage, smiling and nodding to various attendees with whom he was familiar. When he reached Elijah, he beamed openly.
"Sir Gordon," Elijah offered, bowing cautiously.
"Enough of that," James chided before vigorously shaking Elijah's hand to the surprise of some bystanders. "We've known each other too long to stand on ceremony, though I'm surprised to find you here. I thought you had retired to your estate?"
Elijah nodded. "I did indeed, but I have a matter that I wanted to speak with you about directly."
"Say no more," James said, directing Elijah to a small room off of the main ballroom. "Here, we can speak privately away from the crowd."
When the door closed behind James, Elijah took a deep breath. "Gordon, I wish to hire you."
"Hire me?” James's eyebrows rose sharply. “My days of bounty-hunting are finished, my friend. You know that."
"That may be, but there is no one else I would trust with this task," Elijah said firmly. "It must be done with some speed..."
"And some discretion, I take it," James finished for him with a knowing smile.
Elijah removed the slip of newspaper from the inside pocket of his jacket and offered it to him. "My Gertrud is gone."
James accepted the slip, but only stared at his friend uncomprehendingly. "Van Dahl, I'm so sorry."
Elijah breathed deeply and accepted his friend's confused sympathy with a tight nod. "I had resigned myself long ago to the idea that I might never see her again, so this is not wholly unexpected."
"But there's something else?" James prompted gently.
Elijah smiled wryly. "As quick as ever, I see. Yes, it appears Gertrud had a child."
James finally looked the slip of paper in his hand. “ 'Beloved mother'?" He glanced up at his friend with a worried frown. "Do you think that this child might be yours?"
Elijah blinked, momentarily too shocked at the notion. "I... must admit I hadn't considered the idea. I'm sure that Gertrud would've told me if she'd been with child when we parted."
James gave him an almost pitying look. "It's a sad but common story, Van Dahl. Especially if the couple can’t wed due to circumstances."
Elijah set his jaw. "Then it's all the more imperative that this child be found. If he or she is my blood..."
James nodded, clapping a firm hand on Elijah's shoulder. "I'll find them, no matter where they are."
Elijah reached up to cover James's hand with his. "Thank you, my friend."
"Before I begin the search, may I share the details with a friend of mine? I think his help would be invaluable in tracking this person down."
“You mean Detective Bullock? I’m astonished you have to ask.” Elijah waved away the concern. "This isn't a dirty secret to hide from prying eyes, Gordon. It is a tragedy that, I hope, will have a happy conclusion by the end of your search."