Chapter 3
Meanwhile outside Stonegate Penitentiary, a man exited an old beat-up sedan in the parking lot and entered the massive, architecturally sound prison. Walking down the beige corridors, he held his head high as he stood in front of the admissions window and waited to be recognized.
Seconds passed as an overweight man of about thirty lounged in his chair, his feet on the desk. "Sir?" the man struggled to gain his attention. "Sir?" he tapped the closed window with his cane as the guard looked up.
Opening a small window in a huff, the guard questioned his business.
"Hello, I am here to see a Miss Selena Kyle," the man informed the cop who returned to set in his chair behind the window.
"Let's see your identification," the officer demanded, folding his arms.
"Of course, of course, how silly of me. Now where is it?" he fumbled around in his coat and jeans, looking for his wallet. "Ah, here you go," the odd man replied, placing an unknown object through an opening in the glass.
Suddenly, out of a small, capsule leaked a hazy, green gas. The very same gas used on Charles Vanelli and his men.
Could it be? It was… the Riddler!
With great might, he smashed in the remaining glass with his signature solid brass question mark shaped cane, as the man's body convulsed rapidly behind the enclosure. He quickly jumped through the window as the security guard fell to the floor unconscious, his body bloating and contorting from the toxic substance.
The Riddler undressed the officer and replaced his own trench coat and blue jeans with the police garb. Quickly, the Riddler grabbed the keys to the cellblock and let himself in. He now had to find Selena Kyle's cell. Learning from the papers that she'd been locked up for robbing museums of precious artifacts, he new she was the one that would best suit his fiendish plot. After all, she was Catwoman, the world's greatest thief.
The lanky man skipped down the dimly lit cellblock in an amusing fashion, passing the cells of some of Gotham's most notorious criminals like Temple Fugate alias, the Clock King and Waylon Jones alias Killer Croc.
As he continued down the dark corridor, screams could be heard from the cells of the more disturbed inmates. The Riddler tried hard to ignore them concentrating on the task at hand. As he approached what appeared to be a vacant cell, he noticed in a faintly lit corner a slim and seductive silhouette. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the shapely figure was none other than who he was looking for.
Selina Kyle had always been a thief. An orphan at birth, she found refuge in a foster mother that pampered her, as no mother ever should. As a teenager, with a lust for beautiful objects, she began a career as a small-time thief and financed her excursions through work on the streets in a prostitution ring. Over time, the amateur temptress became renowned among Gotham's lower-level criminals and eventually found work for some of the city's most notorious gangsters as a jewel thief before striking out on her own. She even was involved with the Falcone Crime Family, for a time, but was later cast out due to a suspicious theft of Carmine "The Roman" Falcone's private fortune. Thus, she returned to a life of lone thievery.
"Catwoman, I presume," the Riddler said looking through the rusted prison bars.
At the sound of the man's voice, the shadowy woman moved out of the shade, casting her profile in the swinging fluorescent lights above the hallway.
"Eddie Nigma," she purred, looking the man up and down. "What do you want with me? A girl like me is just a cat in a cage. Useless to someone like you," she declared. "Besides, I thought they put you in isolation at Arkham; something about having cancer?"
"Yes, it was tragic. But," he said on a brighter note, "a cure was found."
"Well, whatever your business is with me, you should hurry. The guard will be here soon," Selina warned, resting on the iron bench chained to the concrete wall.
"The only guard on duty for the main floor is dead. We have plenty of time," he informed her. "Now allow me to get down to business. I propose a pairing. I wish to free you from this dismal life of imprisonment. And in return, you will be an aid. Help me to take over the Vanelli crime family," the Riddler informed her of his plan.
"Crime family? I don't deal with gangsters anymore Eddie. Besides this Vanelli character must be pretty small time. I've never heard of him."
"I assure you Miss Kitty, the Vanelli Empire is high profile. I need someone who knows how the mind of a gangster works. After I take over the empire, you will be handsomely rewarded with cash, jewels and this…" he held out a small trinket to entice Selina.
"The Cat's Eye Emerald! Where did you find it," the imprisoned fanatic inquired with great interest.
"I picked it up at an old five and dime," the Riddler joked, wrinkles showing from around his leering mouth.
"I must have it. You don't know how valuable it is," she exclaimed, returning to the bars to reach for it.
"Then you'll help me?" he asked, holding the jewel out of reach.
Growling, she considered her options. As the emerald twinkled in the light, she cursed her lust, having no other choice. "Yes, I will help you. But things are going to be on my terms," she agreed, saying seconds later, "why would you want to run a high profile gang anyways?"
"It's quite simple my dear, as the leader of a gang I will be able to outsmart everyone in Gotham. After we take over the Vanelli gang, I will be ideally placed to build the empire into Gotham's greatest cartel. Then we can run this city into the ground with puzzling conundrums and problematic enigmas. But, before I let you out, let's have a riddle just for fun."
"Please Eddie, spare me. I don't have time for games," Selina said annoyed, back on the bench where she combed her hair with her fingers.
"Riddle me this Catwoman, what purrs, moves and hunts with great reflex, yet has a weakness that most others can conquer. Not one of my best but it suits you. Now, answer it and you're free to go."
"Let me out you fool," Selina's voice rose in further frustration.
"Maybe you'd like to go back to your days of whoring on the streets. Answer the damn riddle kitten," his temper rose slightly at her refusal.
"My terms Nigma, remember, my terms," she stated, hands on hip, her dark hair bouncing off her shoulder as she cocked her head in irritation. "The answer is a cat, a feline. The weakness you refer to is water. Now let me out you dumb fool."
"Beautiful, the Riddler exclaimed as he unlocked the old fashioned jail cell.
As Selina crept out, she reached for the jewel in the madman's hand.
"Ah ah. Not until you have met our part of the deal," he laughed as loud footsteps echoed around.
"Damn it!" she exclaimed as the noise was heard on the other end of the cellblock. "They're coming. We have to get to the property locker. I have to get my things," she continued exiting the cellblock through the other end.
"You go. I'll hold them off. Meet me in the parking lot in three minutes," the Riddler ordered as he pulled out a couple of small capsules. He threw them to the ground as an approaching guard could be heard bellowing a demanding "Stop!" as the capsules ignited, spewing gas through the air. The Riddler quickly exited through the cellblock and slammed the large steel door behind him, entering the parking lot.
As he made it out to his car, Selina was already there and dressing herself in her trademark, leather cat-suit. The pair entered the dilapidated automobile and sped out of sight.