Tabitha had left Barbara at the nearest hospital and walked away. The final shred of kindness that she would afford to her former partner. As promised, Oswald had started renovations on his new club, with a glass enclosure center-piece with base freezing units for where the block of ice that encased Edward Nygma would be set.
Even though Oswald had promised Tabitha with management of his new club, Tabitha remained restless. Perhaps the bulk of time both Selina and Tabitha found themselves with during the ongoing renovations might've contributed to the sense of unease that Cobblepot might not hold up his end of the deal.
"I think we should look into a side business," Tabitha told Selina over drinks at a bar that they'd begun frequenting since the shooting.
"You don't think Penguin is going to think you're conspiring against him like Barbara did?" Selina replied as she spun her glass of whiskey around in her fingers. Technically, she was still under the legal age limit to drink, but Tabitha held some sway with the sleazier side of Gotham, and so certain bartenders would intentionally look the other way. All in all, Selina was pretty much enjoying the privilege of hanging out with Tabitha, and the fact that the association lent to her in some way. The fences weren't as dismissive of her as before, not especially after news had spread about what'd happened to Barbara.
"That was different," assured Tabitha. "There's nothing wrong to have some cash on the side. Even Oswald would understand that."
"So what're we talking about?" asked Selina. The idea of a 'side business' only brought Ivy's proposed plant shop to mind, but she doubted Tabitha would be the least interested in investing in plants. Knowing Tabby, she'd probably had much larger dreams than Ivy could even conjure up.
"Remember that drug that was circulating the market sometime ago that would give its user an adrenaline rush, so powerful it'd triple his strength threefold?"
Selina planted her cheek on the palm of her hand. "Didn't it also kill people?"
"It did," replied Tabitha. "But I've heard whispers about someone that goes by nothing more than a code name, who's perfecting the drug. Claims to be able to take away the defects, leaving only a temporary sense of euphoria and empowerment. Let me tell you that if we manage to control that drug, we'd be rich beyond our wildest dreams. We might even be able to buy over the Iceberg Lounge."
Selina narrowed her eyes. "So this is what it is about, isn't it?"
"Well... yes and no." Tabitha leaned back in her seat. "It's about being independent. You want that too, don't you?"
With a casual shrug, Selina replied, "Yea, of course I do."
"So are we doing this?"
"As long as it doesn't involve killing. I don't necessarily have the stomach for it."
Tabitha smiled. "If it comes down to that, you can leave those particular tasks to me."
Night had fallen, and Bruce kept within the shadows as he scaled the home of Katherine Monroe's, right to the rooftop. Decked completely in black, together with a dark ski mask to conceal his identity, Bruce took every effort not to be spotted by the Court of Owls nor their associates - if spending six months in a prison in Tibet hadn't been enough to teach him that.
"Are you doing alright, Master Bruce?" came Alfred's voice over the discreet little spy radio sitting in his ear.
"I'm fine," he whispered back, hoping that Alfred wouldn't be talking throughout the mission. It was hard enough to convince him to let him do this - the only way Alfred would simmer down about it was a promise on his part to have that radio ready and active at all times.
"Do take care of that shoulder will ya?"
Bruce couldn't deny that he appreciated the concern. Yet there was a proper time and place for such things. It concerned him that replying to Alfred's every worry might put him in more serious trouble, so Bruce decided not to respond at all. He felt bad to do that to Alfred, but he supposed he'd just make it up to him later.
Crouching right above one of the upper bedroom windows, Bruce peered in as Alfred went on, "I know you're probably not replying me because you can't. That's fine with me. You should be keeping your eye on the ball..."
What really stood out to him was that the bedroom was mostly empty. Aside from the few pieces of furniture in the room, there was nothing to identify who that room belonged to. Not a framed picture, not a trinket, not a stray piece of clothing. Opening that window carefully, he slid his way into the room.
And that radio receiver continued speaking in his ear, "Wait... did you just go into the house? Do be very careful. You don't know who's roaming about in there. Remember what happened that last time with the Talon..."
Bruce sighed quietly. He didn't want to say anything about Alfred incessant talking being a distraction - in fact he had half a mind to turn off the radio, but he had promised to keep it on. Moving across the room, he dragged open a drawer at his chest level. It was completely empty. He moved on to the one beneath the first. It was empty as well. His mind was already firing pistons about what was going on, but he wouldn't know for sure till he'd gone through more rooms.
The cloth shoes he'd put on for this mission helped in a great way to minimize the sound of his movements. He'd practiced with them endlessly in Nanda Parbat, and as much as he didn't want to dwell too much on his time in captivity, he could see that several of the skills he had picked up there were starting to come in handy here.
"To think all these dangerous associations are all connected. If Thomas Wayne were alive today, and to know what they did with you..."
The hallway was silent, empty like the previous room. The room next to it... pretty much the same way, and the room after that. After the fourth room, Bruce could conclusively state that Katherine Monroe wasn't about, and that no one else was. Not even a Talon remained behind to guard the property. Truth be told, he wasn't sure how he'd do against a Talon, even with the skills he'd gained in Tibet. The thought of it being an empty house was in part a relief.
He became a little bolder in his attempts to search for signs of where Katherine had gone to; opening wardrobes and cupboards with greater quickness, less silence. He found it odd how she'd not removed a piece of furniture, though all their contents had been claimed... or stolen. Then again - no thief would have the time to leave every drawer in its original position, nor would he swipe the seemingly less important items. No. Someone had been through the house and intentionally removed every single item.
There were just two possibilities for this - Katherine had been forcibly removed by someone more powerful than her, or she had already gone into hiding in anticipation of the quake. Either possibility spelled trouble.
No comments:
Post a Comment