Bruce's perspective:
Bruce Wayne and Christie Whitlock were eating at Club Samurai for the second straight week. At one point, Christie said, "Don't take this the wrong way, but you're nothing what I expected when we first met." "Oh?" inquired Bruce.
"A lot of members of the the social elite are egotistical and think they're entitled to the world. But you're not like that at all."
What Christie didn't realize was that Bruce was not your ordinary rich man. He had been forever shaken from the shootings of his parents. That made it much easier to be humble. "Thanks," he said. Bruce kept what Christie had said about other elites in mind. Though The Batman had mostly gone after blue collar criminals so far, there were probably others higher up the ladder who were up to no good.
Bruce had arranged this dinner in the early evening and not without reason. After taking Christie home and driving a few blocks on the way to Wayne Manor, Bruce noticed the light of the newly constructed Batsignal in the night sky. Because dinner hadn't been eaten after dark, Bruce didn't have to make up an excuse. Better yet, Bruce had the foresight to keep a costume in the trunk of his limousine. Like they taught in the scouts, Bruce was almost prepared.
Commissioner Gordon's perspective:
Commissioner James Gordon had activated the Batsignal for the very first time. He had no idea of what to expect from the local mysterious stranger out of an old western. "Yes, Commissioner?" He heard a deep and spooky voice ask behind him. Gordon snapped around in shock to face Batman. "I'm pushing sixty," Gordon complained. "Do you want to give me a heart attack?" "Drink coffee, take deep breaths, and get used to it," suggested Batman. "Because I have to be me. Understand?" "Guess that's as good as this is getting," relented Gordon.
He handed a pair of police reports to Batman. "Jonathan Keeper and Blake Richards of The Cobbling Needle's board of directors are dead," said Gordon. "And you want me to find the killer," figured Batman. "Oh no, we know who the killer is," said Gordon. "His name is Ozwald Cobblepot, though he seems to prefer to be called The Penguin now." "I've heard of him," noted Batman. "But didn't he get tired of the tailoring business he inherited after two weeks on the job and resign? What reason would he have to kill his former employees?"
"That's what we thought," agreed Gordon. "But he was caught in the act so it is what it is. He may look like a short, fat, overweight, freak of nature, But he's really strong, has good aim with an Umbrella Gun, and uses another umbrella with a mini-copter in the shoot of it."
"This is going to be a very corny case," said Batman. Gordon smiled. "I hope a man who dresses like a bat can understand the irony of this." Gordon walked away to turn off the signal. "Keep us..." Batman was now gone. "...Posted." Gordon took deep breaths like Batman had said he should.
Christie's perspective:
Christie had expected the rest of her evening to be TV and bed. A bright light in the sky said otherwise. She had driven to the police station where that light was coming from. "I want to see the Commissioner," she demanded. This was the chance to nail The Batman and expose his secret ID for good. "Sorry," said the employee. "This has to go through the proper channels." "Give me the forms," said a reluctant Christie. She wasn't a fool. She knew this was a delay. She wasn't catching Batman tonight. But she could confront Gordon about how an honorable man had grown so desperate to save a crime-flooded Gotham City that he'd turned to a vigilante who had been caught in the act of murder on at least one occasion.
Eventually, Christie jumped through all of these hoops and found herself in Gordon's office. "You just missed The Batman if that's who you're looking for," Gordon explained. Christie frowned. "Fine. I want to have a word with you, anyway. I don't know what you're thinking but I caught The Dark Blight in the act of murder." "Are you sure you saw what you saw, Ms. Whitlock?" asked Gordon.
Instead of answering, Christie took this conversation in another direction. "Protecting him could be sticky for you," she warned.
"Oh?"
"Mm-hmm. The Dark Blight's always been a polarizing figure in this town. We at Gothic Report did a poll. Forty seven percent favorability rating for him, forty-nine percent unfavorable."
"Aren't I at seventy-three percent?" rebutted Gordon. "Sixty-two percent," updated Christie. "Turns out that doing something controversial hurts your popularity. Could only be the beginning. In time people might tie your support for him in with the numerous brutal and/or paid-off officers under your command."
"I think you're out of line talking to me like that," said Gordon. "Arrests and discharges of these officers are up two hundred twenty seven percent since my promotion." He's on the defensive. Foot on the gas. "I know," Christie said. "I'm not threatening. I'm saying that I don't want anyone to see a big mistake on your part as more than a mistake. You help me expose him and I'll credit you on our site."
"You may leave," said Gordon, motioning to the door. Time for the coup de grace. "I'm getting rid of The Dark Blight," promised Christie. "Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, but someday. You don't want to be on the wrong side of history."
Gordon wasn't answering. Christie had begun to believe that she was soon to be given Batman when Gordon said, "It was nice talking to you." Christie walked out of the office. So Close.
Batman's perspective:
Batman thought about how to approach this case. Cobblepot, Penguin, or whatever he wanted to call himself had been smart enough to not leave any clues. Sure he'd been seen but following someone who had a little flying machine wasn't easy. Without any data on where to find Cobblepot, it might be better to find out who his next target was and protect that person instead.
Upon returning to the Batmobile, Batman read over the police reports. Sometimes it pays to read the fine print. Cobblepot was apparently very particular about which of the new leaders of The Cobbling Needle he chose to kill. His victims had been Jonathan Keeper and Blake Richards, the #5 and #4 men in the company. Based on this pattern, Batman suspected that the #3 person was next. Not #3 man for her name was Sharmyn McCall, a forty-three-year-old businesswoman and the first in the history of The Cobbling Needle's board. Batman spent the next two and a half hours watching Sharmyn's office and following her home. He stayed awhile longer until it became clear Cobblepot wasn't coming. A listen to the Batmobile's police radio... nothing about Cobblepot going after anyone else.
Batman picked up his car phone. "I'm coming home," he called Alfred. "Dinner has been ready for some time, sir," said Alfred. But food was the last thing on Batman's mind. "Tell the company tomorrow morning that Bruce Wayne is sick," directed Batman. "In the meantime, feel free to eat without me. I won't be offended." "I had no idea that Batman worked in the day," said Alfred. "He does now," said Batman. "Goodbye."
The next morning, Batman had found a shadowy part of a rooftop to hide and watch Sharmyn in. This felt very unusual. Because Bruce's mother and father had raised him strictly, he had always had an early bedtime until he donned his Batman costume. And yet it felt strange to be out in daylight in costume.
Batman's thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a short, overweight man Umbrella Coptering to Sharmyn's office. A skillful shot of the Batgrapple and hard swing of it had Cobblepot dropping on top of the same building as Batman.
"Surrender, Cobblepot," threatened Batman. "You've mistaken me for a dead man, good fellow," said Cobblepot. "Allow me to introduce you to The Penguin." With that, the self-proclaimed Penguin pointed his still active Umbrella Copter at Batman. Penguin turned off the Umbrella Copter just in time to use the momentum to shoulder bash Batman off the edge. Batman grabbed onto said edge and retracted his Batgrapple to get The Penguin off as well. No luck. Penguin had gotten his foot out of the cable so the hook came back into the Batgrapple by itself.
As he advanced towards a Batman who was literally on the edge, Penguin pointed the umbrella in his other hand at Batman's head. Had to be the Umbrella Gun Gordon warned him about. "How ironic," said The Penguin. "You seem to want to become a freak because you think it's cool. I, on the other hand lost my rightful company because I actually am a freak. Want to trade?" It was of course a joke but Batman still made it clear that "I don't trade with murdering scum." "I know you," observed Penguin. "One of those self-righteous members of the so-called 'working class.' Think those ethics make up for your failure at life." That was one hundred percent wrong. But it did reveal much about Penguin. He was the spoiled kind of wealthy person that Christie had told Bruce that his class was full of. "You may look like a freak," said Batman. " But what you are is an abomination!"
The Penguin was angered by that verbal shot. "You're one of the only ones to look past my bad looks," he said, cocking his gun. Batman dropped off before he would have been shelled and fired his Batgrapple to the windowsill above Sharmyn McCall's office. Batman then retracted the Batgrapple so he would be lifted in position to swing into that very office.
"What is the meaning of this?" asked Sharmyn. "You're in danger," explained Batman, moving close to Sharmyn and turning to the window. Sure enough, The Penguin Umbrella Coptered in and landed in front of Sharmyn's desk. He pointed his Umbrella Gun at Sharmyn. Batman dived on Sharmyn to get her out of the way of the shot at the last second, then sprung up and Bataranged the Umbrella Gun out of Penguin's hand. "Damn," said Penguin, retrieving the gun and flying back out.
Batman looked back out the window. The Penguin had gotten too far ahead. He was lost again. Batman pounded his right palm on Sharmyn's desk, then faced her. "Thanks," she said. Instead of accepting that, Batman asked, "Why is he after you people?" "Because he's like every employee I've ever had to fire," said Sharmyn. "He blames everyone but himself." "Wrong answer," Batman confronted her. "He's still out there. I need to know." "Well, I did think deposing him when business was up was strange but..." Sharmyn realized that Batman still wasn't satisfied. "Don't look at me like that. That's all I know for a fact."
"What other then facts?"
Sharmyn lowered her voice to a whisper. "I've heard rumors that our CEO, Gabriel Boile, wanted him gone because he's short and ugly. Now will you please get out before you get me in trouble?"
Batman had gotten into the windowsill when he heard an explosion behind him. He turned around to see Sharmyn laying dead and her desk in pieces. The Penguin must have left a bomb under the desk without Batman noticing. Batman pounded the wood to his right. It hurt. Because Batman felt that he deserved it. Should have checked for the bomb before asking any questions.
Batman couldn't fly. He moved extra fast to reach the office of the Vice President of The Cobbling Needle, Ken Bweek. He saw a sign on the desk that read, "Gone to a charity." Had to find that charity fast! He hurried back to the Batmobile and called Alfred on his phone. "Cobbling Needle Vice President Ken Bweek's in danger. Find a charity of his that's doing something big today and make it snappy." Two minutes later, he got a reply. "He's making a speech on Drowsy Avenue for Bweek Cares, sir." "Good work Alfred," complimented Batman, flooring the accelerator.
Tough shit for The Penguin. He may have had a head start, but the Batmobile could do 300 MPH. Batman arrived on the scene of Bweek's speech soon enough and got out. He used his Batgrapple to get on a higher perch and drop down to where Bweek was speaking. "What is the meaning of this," asked an aloof Bweek as Batman grabbed Bweek from behind and Batgrappled both Bweek and Batman to a good ways up a building. "You're not safe," said Batman as he Batgrappled a higher spot.
Upon reaching the roof, Batman explained, "Ozwald Cobblepot is after you." Bweek started laughing. "That loser? I don't care what leads the police have. He's nothing. There is no way he could have killed..." Bweek froze. Batman looked where Bweek was looking to see The Penguin Umbrella Coptering towards them. "Get behind me," commanded Batman. But he could hear a panicking Bweek running away from Batman's side. "Bweek, no!" Batman called out, but it was too late. An Umbrella Gun shot struck Bweek and he fell dead as a doorknob. "Some hero," taunted The Penguin, flying away.
On the high-speed drive back to The Cobbling Needle, Batman realized that this had not been his best mission. Two people had died because he had underestimated that vengeful little worm. The Penguin may not have been good-looking or in shape, but he was very clever and skilled.
Christie Whitlock, lover of Bruce Wayne, hunter of Batman's mask, would have a field day at Gothic Report with this. And for once, Batman felt he would deserve it. But he couldn't change his mistakes. All he could do was stop The Penguin from killing his next target: CEO Gabriel Boile.
Upon reaching the office, Batman realized that Boile wasn't there. Must have been in the meeting. But Batman had done enough checking to know where the meeting room was.
Batman reached a window leading to that meeting room. He waited a few minutes outside before The Penguin barged into the room through the door. Must have realized Batman would've been waiting for him outside. Batman immediately broke through the window. He ducked two shots aimed for his head as he charged, leaped over, and finally, snatched away Penguin's special umbrellas. Tossing them out the window, Batman challenged, "Let's see how you do without your lame weapons." But Batman's punch at Penguin's face was dodged and caught in Penguin's hands. Batman was swung around by the arm and launched into a wall, hard!
"Not so badly," assured Penguin. "So sorry to disappoint." The Penguin advanced towards Batman and punched him in the ribs. Even through the kevlar, he felt that. Uh-oh. This man was stronger than he looked. Batman was felled by an uppercut to the chin but pulled up by the wrists. Penguin locked his hands together between Batman's back and cape and pulled the arms back pushed the gut forward. There was now tremendous pressure on Batman's gut.
"Had enough?" asked The Penguin. Batman's answer to that was a headbutt that broke Penguin's long nose and forced him to break the hold and back away. "You'll pay for that," The Penguin promised, enraged. He swung at Batman but Batman dodged. Batman seized Penguin by the broken nose with both hands and twisted. Penguin yelled out in anguish. Getting closer. A few knee strikes to The Penguin's gut had him down on all fours. Some Batrope to tie him up and this fight was over.
"Well done, good sir," Said Gabriel Boile, clapping. Oh, no. This case wasn't over yet. "Shut up," rejected Batman "You're also in trouble." "Oh?" asked Boile. Batman pulled out his Batrecorder that he always kept around, just in case. Again, his preparations had paid off. Everyone in the room heard the voice of the late Sharmyn McCall: "I've heard rumors that our CEO, Gabriel Boile, wanted him gone because he's short and ugly. Now will you please get out before you get me in trouble?"
Boile laughed uncontrollably. "I'm an important man. Do you seek to bring me down with a rumor?" "You have equally important competitors," warned Batman. "Lawsuit opportunities are knocking. And they have a witness." He motioned at The Penguin, who nodded. "Not to mention the grieving survivors of Sharmyn McCall and Ken Bweek. They can now sue you for wrongful death."
"Enough comedy," said a no longer amused Boile." Take your collar and go." But Batman wasn't done. "Best case scenario," he was now speaking to Boile's board. "Business badly suffers for years. This company could very well be destroyed. Your only chance to avoid this is to depose Boile and tell the country that he deceived you about why this was done to The Penguin."
"I say we vote on it now," suggested one member of the board. All but three nodded in agreement. "WHAT?!" screamed Boile in shock. "Please return to your office... Gabriel," said another member. Nobody objected to the non-use of the word "Mr." Boile gasped, realizing that this was really happening. "All my money is in stocks," pleaded Boile. "If I'm run out, I'll have nothing." Nobody seemed at all sympathetic.
"Why," noted The Penguin. "You look positively terrified, Boile! You should be. Your career's going down in flames." Penguin paused to laugh. "You're going to prison, fat boy," Boile reminded him. "You're going to something much worse," declared Penguin. "You need another job now. I'm not the only one you've swindled. Whatever you do now to make a living, you'll be doing it among the people you've been cheating. My revenge is complete after all!" The Penguin returned to laughing as Boile began shivering in terror.
That evening, Bruce Wayne was practicing his moves in the Batcave when he heard Alfred say, "Master Bruce, your training schedule has elapsed." Bruce didn't care. "I need more training," he explained. "Two people died today." "You did your best to save them," Alfred assured him. "It wasn't enough," Bruce pointed out. "This isn't chess. Lives were at stake. Lives that I failed." Realizing that he couldn't cheer Bruce up, Alfred walked away.