"Next!" This time, no one stepped up. "Come on boys, I'm just gettin' warmed up!" Scrooge declared, pumping his fist for emphasis. The crowd of prisoners he'd just beaten stared at the duck with looks of awe and trepidation, a few whispering to each other and shaking their heads, before beginning, a few at a time, to turn their backs on him and wander away towards other parts of the gym until Scrooge was left alone at the table.
The rich jailbird breathed a secret sigh of relief. He wasn't as young as he used to be, but at least he was still strong enough to let these thugs know they shouldn't mess with him too much. If he had the strength he'd had fifty years ago as King of the Klondike, he'd have the lot of them cowering in fear like Soapy Slicks goons! He tried not to dwell on how easily he'd once licked armies of claim jumpers, bandits, and brigands with twice as many men under much more dangerous conditions. If these criminals had seen him in action then, they wouldn't dare so much as look at him wrong! But none of that mattered now – it couldn't help him here... nothing could help him...
Scrooge propped his elbow against the table and rested his head on his hand but kept his guard up as he watched the other prisoners. That sense of despair he'd been fighting ever since he heard the word "Guilty!" was creeping up on him again. During the trial, all his confidence had rested on the fact that he knew he was innocent, but if that couldn't save him, what could? How was he ever going to get out of here? Would this really be his life for the next fifteen years? The closest thing he could find to a bright side was that at his age, there was no guarantee he would be in here that long. In that case, when the lads took over the empire he'd willed to them, they'd be forced to carry the legacy of their branded criminal of an uncle's shame forever. He'd promised his family he would restore honor and glory to the name McDuck, and here he was rotting in prison for a pathetic, cowardly crime he hadn't committed! How had this happened to him?
Scrooge's thoughts were interrupted by the gym doors opening and two guards walking in. He snapped to attention; he'd quickly learned that any break in routine around here was hardly ever a good sign. What had happened now?
The guards walked up to Scrooge, and one of them said to him, "You have a visitor, McDuck."
"It's not visiting day," Scrooge mumbled, confused.
"Special circumstances," the other said laconically. "You need to come with us."
What else could he do? Scrooge shrugged and let the guards lead him away, not looking anyone in the face as he walked through the doors and down the hall with an angry scowl on his face; he still hadn't gotten used to the humiliation of being steered around like a horse under bit and bridle.
The guards didn't take him back to his cell where visits were held but to the rooms usually used by prisoners meeting with their lawyers. As Scrooge had dismissed his lawyer weeks ago when the man, obviously believing he had a guilty client, had told him the evidence was too overwhelming and suggested they negotiate a plea, his confusion only deepened. The guards had stopped in front of one room, pushed him inside, and closed the door behind him before he could ask any questions.
Scrooge instantly turned around and banged on the door with his fist. "What's going on here?" he demanded. "What kind of visit is this?"
"If anyone asks, call it your right to confront your accuser." Scrooge clenched both his fists at the first sound of the voice. The very last person in the world he wanted to see! It took more willpower than Scrooge knew he possessed to turn calmly around and face the man across the room; he didn't need a murder charge added to his phony rap sheet. "Surprised to see me, Scroogey?" he asked with a smirk.
"Surprised you didn't bring an army of bodyguards, Flintheart," Scrooge answered, crossing his arms to keep them from doing anything beyond his control.
"What, and let them spoil the fun?" Glomgold said, walking towards his old rival with his arms behind his back. "Nope, it's just you and me now, Scrooge – I made sure of that."
"You don't say?" Scrooge cocked his head and listened closely but could hear no sounds of life in the corridor. He wondered how much money this meeting had cost Glomgold and how high up the chain the bribery had to go to make it happen. It was no news to Scrooge that Glomgold was a poor businessman, but surely there were cheaper ways for him to gloat, not to mention less risky. "What are you up to now?" Scrooge asked, hoping, if the man was stupid enough to come here, he was stupid enough to say something incriminating. "Surely there's nothing left you can do to me..."
"Save your breath, Scrooge – no one's listening, which means nothing we say here will change a thing, but I'll give you points for effort."
Scrooge believed him, but maybe he could, at least, finally confirm what he'd suspected ever since he learned why he'd been arrested. "You'd better be careful, Flinty," Scrooge said in the tone of a professor lecturing a student. "Throw your money away on things like this, and it won't last long."
"It was well worth it," Glomgold assured him. "I've been waiting for this moment for sixty years!"
"What do you mean, six-" Scrooge began, knowing the two of them only met a few years ago, but Flintheart didn't let him finish.
"How does it feel, Scroogey?" Glomgold asked, obviously bubbling over with so much joy, he couldn't contain himself. "To be locked up behind bars with nothing to do but watch life in the outside world pass you by? Thinking of all the opportunities you're missing, all the time you're wasting, all the money everyone's making except you? Counting the seconds that stretch on for hours, the days that never end, the weeks that never feel like they're getting any closer to your release? Fantasizing what you'll do to the guy who put you in here, who's out there free as a bird, getting richer and richer while you rot in a cell?"
"You don't want me to answer that question, Flinty..."
"Don't bother – I already know!" Glomgold paused for what struck Scrooge as some highly unwarranted laughter before continuing. "And now it's your turn! You've just begun the worst fifteen years of your life, Scrooge, old boy!"
"When I get out of here, the worst time of your life will begin," Scrooge said icily.
"If you get out of here, by then, you'll be a nobody, and I'll be the richest duck in the world!"
"You really think you can get away with this?"
To Scrooge's surprise, Glomgold's triumphant tone abruptly changed. "Actually, to tell ya' the truth... no, I didn't," he answered with a shrug. "I always wanted to see you behind bars; I never thought I'd get the chance to."
What new game was he playing? "What are you talking about? You're not actually going to deny you're the one who put me in here?!"
Glomgold laughed again. "Of course not! I beat you this time, and you know it! It just worked out better than I ever planned. When I framed you for stealing that painting, I only wanted to cause you some headaches for a few months by tying you up with litigation. I thought it would cause you a lot of trouble, bad publicity, scare away your investors and people from dealing with you, distract you from business, cost you a lot of money. I never expected you'd actually go to jail!"
"Figures you can't even do wrong right," Scrooge said sardonically.
Glomgold sighed and admitted, "Aye, I wish I could take credit for how it turned out, but I know I can't – you ending up in here was all your doing."
"My doing?!" Scrooge knew it was weakness to show such shock and indignation, but it was too strong to repress. "How do you figure that?"
Glomgold calmly explained: "Come on – you're supposedly the richest duck in the world, right? Everyone knows the rich don't go to prison. Once you realized what was going on, I figured you'd do what I'd do in that situation – buy, bribe, and blackmail every witness, judge, and lawyer necessary to get me off the hook. You know as well as I do there's nothing money can't buy, especially justice. You have as much power as I do to make things vanish, people forget, loopholes appear... anything you needed to make that trial work in your favor. But you never thought to use any of it! I should have guessed you'd be too cheap to buy your way out." He shook his head patronizingly. "You're way too naïve, Scroogey. What, did you figure you might as well save a few hundred-grand because you were innocent? Everyone knows it's the innocent who always lose. You want to win, you have to make some sacrifices. You don't have what it takes to play this game. Not by our rules. That's why I beat you! You made it almost too easy..."
That never even occurred to me, Scrooge thought. He knew that men far less wealthy than he was had no qualms about using their money to buy justice – hire lawyers who could twist anything in their favor, buy jurors and even judges, bribe law enforcement to make evidence disappear... all of the above and then some. The courtroom wasn't the only place where money was used as a shortcut around truth, either. He'd discovered long ago that his belief that the only good money was money earned square was the exception and not the rule, that most people who dared to call themselves "businessmen" saw no difference between money earned honestly and money made dishonestly. It was a cutthroat world where one always had to be on the lookout for those who used force and fraud to plunder the worthy of the fruits of their honest labor. But Scrooge McDuck was above all that. He didn't operate that way. Lying, cheating, and bribing were the tactics of the weak; if he had to resort to such methods, he didn't deserve his freedom.
"...wouldn't you say?" Scrooge shook his head and looked up at his enemy. He'd forgotten Glomgold was speaking.
"You're right, Flintheart," Scrooge said aloud. "I never did learn how to cheat, bribe, or blackmail my way to victory like you do. Why would I have? I never needed to cheat to make money."
It was quick, but Scrooge clearly saw Glomgold's beak tremble and his fist shake as it tightly clutched the knob of his cane in suppressed fury, and the sight was extremely satisfying. Glomgold swiftly collected himself, however, and said, "And look where it's got you."
"I'll find a way out of here," Scrooge confidently declared. "And prove that Scrooge McDuck is an honest man."
"Honesty is for the weak."
Now it was Scrooge's turn to laugh. "You wouldn't understand, Flinty – only the strongest and the sharpest don't need to cheat to win."
"Excuse me if I don't take advice on winning from the guy who lost."
"The game's not over yet."
"It been over! Don't you get it, McDuck? I've won! And you let me win! You can ramble all you want about how you play fair and square, but that won't get you out of here! What good is your pride and honesty gonna do you here? All the money in the world can't help you now if you don't know how to use it!"
Scrooge glared fiercely at Glomgold but didn't say anything. He couldn't say anything because what he was thinking was that... he was right! He'd vowed when he was ten-years-old that he would make a fortune someday, and that he would only make it square, by being smart enough and tough enough to deserve it. He'd made some mistakes since then, but he'd learned his lesson, and he prided himself on earning every cent in his money bin and in his banks and businesses honestly and fairly, by being a superior businessman and not a superior cheater. But now he'd found himself in a game that by definition couldn't be won fairly! The game was completely dishonest in and of itself. How could he beat someone who played by different rules? They weren't fairly matched, but the only thing handicapping Scrooge was his own set of scruples. If he just abandoned them and played the game the way everyone else did... he could be out of here if he pulled the right strings... by the end of the week, at the latest... he didn't deserve to be in here, anyway – what was dishonest about undoing a gross miscarriage of justice, whatever the means?
Scrooge didn't like the way Glomgold raised his eyebrow or the look that came into his eyes. Glomgold seemed to study him for a minute before smiling contentedly and saying, "Like I said, Scrooge, we both know I've won, but I never expected you to let it go this far. Why don't you drop the act and go ahead and get yourself out of here? I won't try to stop you."
"What?" Scrooge gasped, dumbfounded.
"I've already gotten more than I bargained for – as far as the world's concerned, Scrooge McDuck is a common thief, Flintheart Glomgold is an innocent victim, and you've got no proof to the contrary. Why should I leave you to rot in here for fifteen years when I could be beating you on the stock exchange?"
"Does that mean you plan to let me out of here?" Scrooge asked, positive that was not the case.
"Why should I waste my money to help you?" Glomgold asked back. "Put your money where your sentence is, and do what you need to do."
"You mean, buy my way out of here so you can come up with some new charges to pin on me?"
Glomgold waved his hand. "No new charges, no protest, no getting sympathy from the press, no nothing. As far as I'm concerned, you're free to go. However you do it, you won't get any trouble from me. "
"How noble of you," Scrooge growled.
Glomgold shrugged again. "Fine – if you don't want to try to beat me, that's your problem. Go ahead – give up."
Scrooge finally snapped. "Scrooge McDuck never gives up! Why, if I wanted to, I could... I could..." His voice trailed off.
"Prove it," Glomgold sneered.
I will! Scrooge thought. Just give him a few days, and they'd see who was laughing then! He'd have his freedom back, his record clear, his reputation stronger than ever, another cubic foot of gold in his money bin, and Glomgold pacing his own cell in here faster than you could say, "Frame up!" Before the end of the week, he'd have the press and the law in his pocket! Before the end of the month, he'd see Glomgold Industries collapse and its owner powerless to save it! He thought he could beat Scrooge McDuck so easily! He thought he could keep him trapped in here? Hah! Once he got out of here, he'd make Glomgold wish he'd never heard of Scrooge McDuck! Money was power, and they both knew which of them was the more powerful of the two. No trumped up charges or phony evidence, not the best, most conniving lawyer money could buy could keep him in here... because he'd have it all on his side! He was entitled to it, after all. It wasn't his fault if the judge and police were stupid enough to fall for Glomgold's schemes. Why should he have to suffer for something he didn't do when he had the power to escape? Why should Flintheart get away scot free? Why shouldn't he use his money the way anyone else would in this situation? Why was he letting all his power go to waste? What good was having a fortune if you didn't use it when you needed it?! He needed to get out of here, by any means necessary, and he had the means! It was time to stop holding back and start fighting back! He'd show Glomgold he could fight just as dirty as he could...
Scrooge's train of thought came to a screeching halt. His rage slowly transformed into horror as he realized what he was planning. He was back in the African jungle, at a village on the Congo River... Was he really capable of sinking that low again? Had he changed so little in all those years? He remembered the ten-year-old boy who swore he would be better than cheating bums like the one who paid him with a worthless, foreign coin. If he stooped to that level, he was no better than any of them, including the man facing him now.
Was sacrificing his honesty and honor his only hope for getting out of here? Did he really have to make a choice between his pride and his freedom? If he ignored all the options open to him and just let Glomgold keep him locked up in here... Scrooge turned aside and stood facing the wall with his head bowed so that he wouldn't have to look at him. That was the one thought he couldn't bear – giving into his enemy without fighting back. He'd tried fighting back honestly and lost; there was logically only one other way he could fight back now. Whether he accepted defeat or tried to win, he'd lost his honor. Well, if that was how things stood, why did it matter?
Everything has a price, Scrooge told himself. Hesitation was a sign of weakness. He should stop wasting time wavering and make the most objective, materially profitable choice, like he always did. He wanted out of here. He didn't deserve to be in here. He would hurt no one... except himself. So, was he going to be a coward, afraid to act? No... "Smarter than the smarties, tougher than the toughies..." he said weakly, to remind himself he was smart enough to see what needed to be done and strong enough to do it. And he might very well have followed through if he hadn't heard Flintheart triumphantly chuckle behind him, "Not anymore."
Without turning to look, Scrooge could clearly picture Glomgold shaking his head in amusement as he said more smugly than Scrooge had ever heard him speak, "Look at the great Scrooge McDuck now. You see why no one plays it square any more, Scrooge? Because it doesn't work. You get it now, don't you? All that gibberish you're always preaching about honesty and honor and hard work means nothing. That big fuss you're always making about integrity and perseverance and self-respect... pointless! You used to prance down the street like you were on top of the world, acting like you're so much better than the rest of us because 'you made it square,' but the truth is you were just afraid to go all in. Now you see what happens to those who are too weak to do what needs to be done? They get trampled like the worthless trash they are! If you're not smart enough to see that, you do belong in here! How much longer are you gonna keep this up? You can't deny it anymore, Scrooge. There's no reason to keep pretending you're some poster-boy for honor and integrity and all that other rubbish – look where it got you! You know you can't afford to be such a coward anymore. You know what it takes to survive in this world just as much as I do. You've always known; deep down, you never believed in any of that nonsense. Haven't you always hated it – seeing all that money you let slip away, all those opportunities you didn't take, all those scoundrels you let beat you, all the deals you missed out on? You know you have. You're no better than the rest of us – you never were. So come on, drop the act – you know you want to..."
Want to... want to... want to... Some alarm sounded in Scrooge's mind as he snapped his head upright. He remembered the context of this conversation and realized some things didn't add up. If Glomgold had really gotten what he wanted, like he claimed (and he certainly had very good grounds for saying so), why was he here suggesting Scrooge fight back and defeat him? If he wanted Scrooge locked up, why did he come here to suggest he buy his way out? What was his motive? Scrooge turned around and crossed his arms.
"What are you after, Flintheart?" Scrooge asked.
Glomgold seemed taken aback by the question, but he recovered quickly and answered perfectly calmly, "I already got what I was after."
"Me in prison," Scrooge elaborated. "So why are you suddenly so eager for me to try to get out? When did you become so concerned about me?"
"What's it to you?" Glomgold snapped. He seemed to be getting frustrated. "You either want out of here, or you don't! What's it matter to you what I want?"
"If that shouldn't matter, then why should I listen to you?"
It was clear that Glomgold was on the verge of losing his temper now, although Scrooge still had no idea why. "Because I'm the one who's making sense! There's no reason for the richest duck in the world to sit in prison, guilty or not! You just don't get it!"
"Get what?" Scrooge asked flatly.
"You're doing it all wrong! You were supposed to... supposed to..." Whatever he'd been about to say, he caught himself.
Scrooge could deduce the rest of the sentence. "Supposed to handle it the way you would have? Play by your rules? Prove I'm no different than you? That I've got no right to 'prance around' like I'm 'better than the rest of you?' "
"YOU'RE NOT!" Glomgold insisted in a tone that confirmed he was. "I beat you, remember? I put you in here!"
"As I recall," Scrooge said, taking his own turn to be smug now, "that was never your goal. You expected to cause a lot of trouble for me, sure, but not to be able to take it this far. That's no mystery, of course; you knew, if I wanted, I could have stopped that Guilty verdict from ever becoming a possibility. But I didn't, and you can't stand it now, can you?"
Glomgold didn't answer. Scrooge hadn't expected him to; every ounce of his energy was obviously being used to restrain himself from beaning Scrooge over the head with his cane. That settled it – Scrooge was right about his motive for coming here. It had never entered the equation when he planned this frame job, it hadn't even been a side-issue, but once Scrooge let them throw him in prison, defying everything he'd expected to happen, he couldn't let it go. "You really need to get a hobby, Flintheart," Scrooge said gently. "Obsessing over things like this can't be healthy for you."
Glomgold raised his cane, and Scrooge darted to the table next to them and picked up one of the chairs. Please do it, Scrooge silently begged him. But his enemy backed up and lowered his weapon – oddly, not like someone coming to their senses and realizing such a move wasn't in their best interest, but as if, Scrooge thought, in genuine fear of physical violence. He must be mistaken – why would he scare Glomgold so much... so much that the old duck didn't even care if Scrooge saw how much?
Glomgold threw Scrooge one last glare of hatred before heading for the door. "Make all the jokes you want," he said without turning around. Once he reached the door, he pulled out a key (Scrooge didn't even want to think about how much getting someone to hand over that had cost!) and then turned to face Scrooge. "You're still in here, and you're never getting out if I can help it!"
"We'll see about that," Scrooge said defiantly.
Glomgold put his key in the lock and turned it. Scrooge briefly contemplated running for him but knew it was irrational before the thought was fully formed. "Don't act so cocky, Scrooge! You're not the Terror of the Transvaal you used to be. You're just a poor old jailbird who's lost his freedom, his home, his family, his business, his reputation... you have nothing to be cocky about now! Hah, I take that back – you have nothing!"
"Nothing except my self-respect – something you'll never have." Unsurprisingly, Glomgold stormed out and slammed the door behind him. The action somehow wore out the last of Scrooge's restraint. He ran to the small window in the door and grabbed the bars in both hands. "I'll get you for this, Glomgold!" he shouted, not caring who heard him. "Just wait 'til I get out of here..."
Glomgold had been stomping away, but he suddenly spun around and, once again, laughed at something Scrooge was helpless to identify or explain. "You'll never get out of here, sonny!" he said, with an equally inexplicable relish. "No matter how much money you might have, it won't mean shucks unless you use it right, the way I do! Hah! How does it feel when you're the one in the cage, McDuck?"
"What's that supposed to mean?!" Scrooge demanded, but Glomgold was already walking away, and this time, he didn't look back. Scrooge waited at the window for a while, expecting guards to come escort him back to his cell or wherever he was supposed to be right now. When no one appeared, he slipped down and sat on the floor with his back against the door.
It was strange – his situation was as hopeless as ever, nothing had changed, but the helplessness and despair that had threatened to overcome him earlier had faded. Scrooge felt freer than he had for days, and he realized that it was because he knew that if he sacrificed his honor and his pride to get out of here, he would never be free again. Scrooge McDuck surrendered to no one! He had survived the hardships of the frozen Yukon wilderness on his own strength and wits, without stooping to the level of all the deadbeats and criminals too weak to succeed on their own. He would survive this the same way. He had no idea how long it would last, but he didn't feel as daunted by the prospect any longer. Oddly, for someone in his position, he felt… triumphant. It was the same sense of exhilaration he experienced when he sealed a great deal or discovered a valuable treasure or saw a huge profit on his books. This victory had cost him dearly, but it was well worth it, as Glomgold put it.
Glomgold! That no-good, low-down, dirty-dealing liar! Scrooge silently thanked him for their little chat today; his visit had left Scrooge with so much rage and disgust that he had no room for despair now. Scrooge forgot about his immediate problems and began plotting how he would get his revenge once he proved he was innocent. He wanted the punishment to serve as a constant reminder of Glomgold's defeat; a painting would be appropriate, since he'd framed him for stealing a painting… He couldn't give Glomgold the chance to weasel his own way out of prison, either... Scrooge decided he would pull whatever strings he needed to pull then – to make sure Glomgold was pardoned from a prison sentence in exchange for a unique, "merciful" punishment he would persuade the governor to impose.
Scrooge would make sure Glomgold never forgot this failure. He needed to remember which of them was superior and how he'd proved it. Let him see how smug he was after a few weeks of being forced to look at a painting of the richest duck in the world, whom he knew was better than him and would always be better than him at everything in every way! He could use a reminder of that. Of all the enemies Scrooge had made in his lifetime, he loathed none of them as much as Flintheart Glomgold! He hadn't met anyone so despicable and pathetic since that double-crosser who robbed him and left him to starve to death out on the Rand sixty years ago...
