He pulled up the in the mint green Cadillac and glanced at the hotels neon lit sign with a smirk.
Gotham Colosseum
It had the best casino in Gotham, well, there wasn't much competition really. The closest casino in style and grace was owned by the Falcone's, meaning half the city were either too scared or to go there or banned from entering.
Slicking his hair back into place, he studied his features in the rear view mirror; rugged but young, well young enough for a 50 year old. He fixed his tie once more before exiting his car with a joyful bounce, throwing his car to the valet. He was travelling light, a small handheld suitcase at his side as he strode meaningfully onto the hotels marble flooring. With each step his waxed brogues clipped against the floor.
Making a beeline for the reception, his eyes locked with a blonde receptionist. White smile, red lips, blue eyes, the receptionist spoke with a British accent. "Hello Sir, welcome to the Gotham Colosseum."
"Hi, Darling. I have a reservation under Fylde." He smirked, pulling out his card.
He watched as the blonde typed in a few details, her long fingernails hitting against the keys with a click.
"Yes, Mr Fylde, we have the Blackgate suite on the tenth floor, ready for you with a complimentary bottle of champagne." The blonde receptionist took the Mr Fylde's card and swiped it. "If you require any assistance call down to reception, room service runs between the hours of 7am and 11pm, and I hope you enjoy your stay." With another eye watering white smile the receptionist handed Mr Fylde his card, the key to his room and a leaflet to the casino.
"Thank you Miss.."
"Mrs. Davenport." She smiled, accented.
He smirked. "MRS Davenport.. well your husband is a lucky man." Mr Fylde winked at the receptionist, tucking the cards in the inside of his jacket pocket before walking away.
Joker sat in the back of the van, checking the several Rolex watches that took up his left arm and gave a growl of annoyance. He was getting impatient. "Where the fuck is Vin!" His foot stamping down against the van's floor.
No one flinched in the back and remained steel faced, accustomed to their boss' abrupt aggression. Accept for the driver in the front, whose dampened top lip gave away his nervousness.
Frost inwardly sighed, answering his boss. "He said he'd be here at 6, boss." Simultaneously giving the driver a napkin for the sweat.
"What time is it now?" Joker snapped. He could've looked at his own watch, the several he had, but why would he when he had people to do that for him?
"Five to, boss."
The Joker growled, red lips curled up. "Well he better hurry up otherwise I'll kill him!" He snarled, leg bouncing. "And that goes for all y'all too!" Joker shouted, addressing his henchman. "You fuck this up, and I'll mow you and your families down!" He ran a hand through his hair and smirked manically to his henchmen, knowing underneath those masks they were cowering.
The driver closed his eyes, hoping that didn't include him. His shoulders hunched over as he cowered in his seat, hands gripping tightly at the steering wheel.
Unfortunately for him, the Joker was watching, he was always watching. "Jerry! Man, don't be nervous! I wouldn't hurt you!" The driver eased up but was still intimidated, he could taste the teasing tone Joker had, it frightened him. "But I would hurt ya pretty lil wife."
Jerry's eyes widened, and stuttered 'Sir' in fear.
Frost chuckled next to Jerry as the Jokers manic laugh runs round the van's interior. "I'm joking Jerry, take a joke." He chuckled, loving to wind people up. Soon after though the laugh fell silent and Joker became serious. "Just don't piss me off otherwise I'll use you as bullet cover."
Joker laughed again, grill shining into Jerry's eye as he caught sight of him in the rear view mirror. Just then there was a knock at the back door. The van fell quiet as Joker opened the door, coming face to face with Vinny.
"You're late." He snarled, looking Vinny up and down.
Vinny frowned and checked his watch; by him he was on time but this was the Joker. "It's a bit hard to smuggle a safecracker around with me when the cops are on every block."
Joker rolled his eyes and showed his grill, annoyed with his chat back. "Whatever, just gimme it." He clicked his fingers expectantly.
Vinny sighed, throwing a heavy duffle bag into the back of the van. Joker took a look at it, immediately complaining. "It's that big!?" Vinny nodded. "What happened to small and compact?!"
"It's the smallest I could get on such short notice Joker." Vinny uneasily responded.
Joker growled, green hair falling in his face as he launched forward to grab Vinny. "When I ask for small Vin my man, I get small, ya understand." His grilled teeth on show. Vinny nodded, eyes bulging and lip quivering. He could smell the alcohol on Jokers breath.
"I-I'm s-sorry boss, I'll do better next time." Vinny stuttered, legs close to collapsing under the terror he felt.
Then all of a sudden, Jokers snarl turned into a smile as the criminal let go of his supposed adviser, letting him down to the ground. He hummed, smile curling up further on his pale white skin.
Jerry, the driver, watch on through the mirror, heart palpating, top lip wet as the Joker took his gun from his holster and put a bullet straight between this guys eyes.
The shot rang around the empty parking lot as Joker joked. "Mhm yeah you will." The Joker cackled as the body hit the back of the van and fell to the ground, in a pool of blood. His henchman and Frost sat still, unaffected by their boss' cold bloodedness as he turned to them with a demented smile. "Suit up boys, we gotta job to do!"
Popping the champagne, Mr Fylde poured a flute full, pocketing the wire and cork, and took a refreshing sip. He smirked and wandered over to the window, studying the skyline. Tonight was going to be a good night, great in fact, if his luck was in and something told him it would be.
He out the flute down after he'd drunk it and grabbed the leaflet the receptionist had gave him, opening it and immediately surveying the inside. It was listed with the hotels restaurants and casino games; slots, blackjack, poker, roulette, baccarat. All the usual suspects. But the one that was circled with a red marker was Craps.
Mr Fylde hummed, Craps it was then.
Heading to his bed, Mr Fylde slipped off his shoes and led himself on the bed, grabbing the room service menu from the side table. He was feeling slightly peckish and fancied a bite to eat before gambling tonight.
Grabbing the phone, he phoned down to concierge to place his order. "Hello, concierge desk, how can I help." A thick accented man answered.
"Hi, yeah, could I have room service to the blackgate suite please."
"Certainly, sir, what would you like?"
Mr Flyde hummed, eyes scanning over the exoctic menu. "I'll take duck pancakes, pork belly, chicken steamed gyoza's and lemon sparkling water with a shot of tequila."
Amelia rushed into the back entrance of the hotel ficing her uniform as she did. She straightened out her hairpins, giving a smiling glance as she passed a couple of other workers. She went straight to her port of call; the kitchens.
"Room service, blackgate suite!" The chef called out as the room attendant places everything onto a tray. "Duck pancakes, pork belly, chicken steamed gyoza's, lemon tequila sparkling water."
Bingo.
She smiled, heading towards the room attendant. "I got this Hugh, go take ya break." Hugh thankfully nodded, letting Amelia control the cart. Quickly exiting the kitchen, she made her way to the blackgate suite.
Che soon came to a holt outside it and stopped to fix her outfit and hair before knocking twice. "Room service." She called out and waited. The door opened within seconds showing a buff looking old man with nothing but a towel around her waist. Amelia took a deep breath as the man smirked at her, getting out of the way for his food to be delivered.
Amelia proceeded to uncover the food as the man in the towel clicked the door shut. He hummed, sauntering over. "Mhm that looks delicious." Though his eyes weren't on the food but her.
Amelia raised her eyebrow. "Watch it Frank." She said in a teasing tone, smelling his strong cologne as he got closer.
"Please, Amelia, it's Mr Fylde. A suave businessman with a passion for gambling." Frank smirked, grabbing one of the gyoza's and popping it in his mouth.
Amelia scoffed sarcastically. "Suave businessman? Please."
Frank nodded, licking the sauce from his fingers. "And one that has a taste for sexy room attendants." Amelia just rose her eyebrow, unimpressed with him. They had a job to be doing, so she tried to focus his mind back on that.
"You go the cork?" Amelia asked, hand outstretched. Frank nodded and dug it out from the pocket of his pants, giving it to her with a kiss to the cheek. "How's Nikola doing?"
Frank rounded Amelia and wrapped his arms around her waist as he spoke. "Mhm great, she's adopted a British accent and apparently she's married now."
Amelia chuckled. "Our daughter married?" Frank hummed, tenderly kissing Amelia's neck. "Well at least she can dream I guess…"
"Yeah… well at least she's not being witty and sarcastic." Frank said with a thankful tone. Their daughter was synonymous for ending up in fights with her sarcastic attitude.
"She'd get fired if she did." Amelia mused. "And that's the last thing we need right now."
Frank unwrapped himself and headed to pour two glasses of champagne. "She'll do a good job we know that." He passed one to Amelia. "The twins in place?"
"Thanks, yeah." She took a sip, walking over to check out the view from the hotel suite. "Casey's in position and Shannon should be on the table soon enough."
"Okay and you now what to do? Your timings?" He followed her, making sure everything was ready. This needed to go well, otherwise it could end up with them in jail.
With a sigh, Amelia glanced up to Frank, unimpressed. "Honey, how long have we been in this game?" Frank screwed his face. "Years. I'm a pro, if anyone's gonna fuck up it'll be the twins."
Frank couldn't argue with that. "Yeah… I don't know why we bring them on these things sometimes, they argue more amongst themselves than doing the job." He sighed, they really were a handful sometimes. "Another?"
"I'm working." Amelia refused.
"C'mon, one won't hurt darling." Though Frank was still in one of his mischievous moods. "We could even get a little frisky before everything happens aye?" He went to wrap his arms around Amelia but she pulled away, giving his arm a slap.
"Manos fuera, señor Fylde, es poco profesional." She told him in her mother tongue before tutting. "We have a job to do."
"A lil' fun doesn't hurt though." He pouted, stringed in his advances. "Anyway, here's to tonight, the Illinois', Gotham's worst."
"Gotham's richest." Amelia winked.
"Gotham's richest." They both smiled, clinking their glasses together.