Chapter 14 - Favor Still Owed

"Ha! See, Jim? Maybe you should start trusting the ole instincts once in a while. Could be saving us a lot of time if you did."

"Don't hold your breath."

Harvey had taken one look at the corpse on the table, a white sheet covering her torso, seeing the fine slices of flesh missing from her shoulders and neck. The saturation of the exposed muscles had dulled. Faded purple marks stained her neck. Staples had embedded themselves into the Y incision in her chest.

"I told you there was a relation with her and the other girls." Harvey smiled smugly.

"It does seem that way," Lee said, closing the report in her hands and setting it on her desk. "There are several contusions around her neck, indicating she was strangled to death. There are fractures on the back of the skull. A few scrapes on her hands and knees. There are lacerations, one on each shoulder at about a centimeter deep and three inches long. The cut made on her neck," she turned the victim's head to the side to show the exposed tendons, "was made post-mortem, and definitely not as clean as the others. Looks like it may have been a last minute decision. There was also signs of intercourse, though whether she was alive or not when it happened is inconclusive."

Jim sighed. "Other than the cut on the neck, it does look like she's victim number five," "Last I heard, Forensics is still working on the hair and fibers found on her clothes." He told Ed to expedite the results in fear of more victims in the close future. Bodies were popping up at an alarming rate and it was only a matter of time before another one came out of the woodwork. Mayor James and Commissioner Asshat were already shoving threats down their throats to catch the killer. If there was ever a way to keep them both away, at least for a while, solving this case was it.

Ruby Ventura had just graduated college with a Bachelor's Degree in Forensic Science. She had been valedictorian at her graduation. She wanted to work for the GCPD one day, her mother said, seemingly oblivious of her daughter's profession. She wanted to make Gotham a safer place. And now she was a victim of the city's rotten core. The irony was almost too painful.

"But there was this." Lee picked up a small plastic sample jar from her desk. Inside was a wad of moist black matter, no bigger than the face of a watch. "I found that in her mouth. I'll be handing it off to Ed to identify it."

"Chewing tobacco?" Harvey guessed, taking the jar. "Any signs of it in her teeth?"

"None that I saw. I swabbed her cheeks so, we'll know along with the rest of the results."

Jim took the jar next, examining it against the light. Was there something there, hidden in the darkness of the material? He could vaguely see the line of a lighter color but for all he knew it could've been his exhausted eyes playing tricks on him. Whether he had tried to sleep or not, it evaded him almost insistently. His mind couldn't stop spinning around the case, being nominated for President of the Policeman's Union and whatever favor Penguin would eventually be asking for.

"Oh, also," Lee began, lifting the sheet to reveal Ruby's left hand. She held it up for the detectives, singling out the ring finger. The remnants of a pale line circled around the digit. "She could've been married, or at least engaged. The ring had some sort of stone."

"A ring wasn't recovered from the scene," Jim noted. "They wiped that area clean." He had scoured the crime scene report over and over. He would've remembered something as important as a ring.

Harvey leaned forward, taking a closer look at the finger. "There's still an APB out for Juan Martinez but I haven't heard anything yet. Could be a husband or fiancée instead of boyfriend like her work file said."

"We may need to do some grunt work on this one, partner."

Harvey's face lit up in false realization. "Or Alvarez could do it for us. I'm sure Essen would let us recruit him for the case."

Knuckles rapped on the plastic window of the door. A shadow waited on the other end. Harvey opened the door and an officer poked his head in, a manila folder in his hand.

"Gordon, do you have a minute? A perp was brought in just now. He's," the officer sighed exasperatedly, "demanding to speak with you immediately. Says it's an emergency."

"Who is it?" Jim frowned and looked to Harvey.

"I bet I know who it is," Harvey worried quietly before the officer could respond.

The officer opened the folder. "Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot." His eyes widened for a moment at the unusual name. "The quicker you talk to him the quieter the station will be."

Oh, crap. Jim massaged his forehead. "Alright, I'll be right out. Thank you."

With a nod of his head, the officer left, closing the door behind him.

"It looks like he might be asking for that favor faster than we thought," Harvey whispered softly, keeping Lee in the dark.

And I must be a psychic.

"That name sounds familiar…" Lee commented, covering Ruby with the sheet.

Jim forced himself to smile. "He's just a lowlife criminal. I'll go see what he wants just to shut him up." He walked to her quickly and she kissed the corner of his mouth. "I'll see you tonight." Just like with Barbara, he'd keep Lee in the dark as long as possible. Although Lee was much more adventurous and understanding of the life of a cop, there were just some things that needed to stay unsaid.

"Don't be late," she teased and hugged his arm before he left.

"You want me to come with?" Harvey offered, right on Jim's heels.

Jim stopped as the hallway ended, suddenly exposed to the openness of the GCPD headquarters. From the across the room, he could see Penguin and his bodyguard in the first cell. He could make out the icy stare, the intensity deep inside it. Jim couldn't help but picture him down that dark hallway, prostitute in hand, ready to enter one of the room. Perhaps he'd keep that bit of information to himself until he found it useful, but he grimaced just at the thought of whatever kinky thing Penguin was into.

"You might as well," Jim sighed. "I'm going to have a migraine after all this." Hesitantly walking across the room, he stopped at the cell, folding his arms. "What'd you do this time, Penguin?" He expected him to smile, play his friendly, submissive role to slime his way free from his cage, but his hardened stare didn't falter and no smile formed on his lips. His grip was tight on the bars between them.

"I need to speak with you privately," he said. Sweat was gathering on his upper lip. "Now. Time is of the essence."

Harvey scoffed. "You aren't exactly in the best position to be barking orders."

Penguin didn't take his eyes off Jim. "Please, Jim. It's a matter of life and death. Not for me, for a friend. She's in danger."

She? Other than his mother and Fish Mooney, Jim never thought Penguin was capable of having a 'she' in his life, at least not one he pleaded for. He grimaced again; could he be talking about the prostitute? Had Evelyn given her a hard time and now he was begging for help?

True love, indeed.

But then he remembered his last visit to the Iceberg Lounge, moments after finishing their conversation, when the man and woman interrupted. Penguin's reaction to the woman had been unusual: his set jaw, his wide eyes, the stumble he took just trying to get out of his seat. He hadn't thought much about it then but he didn't need to be a cop to know what was going on. At least he hoped it was her and not the prostitute.

"What kind of danger?" Jim asked.

"Privately," Penguin insisted, glancing around.

With a sigh, Jim asked Harvey, "Hey, see if there are any free interrogation rooms." Harvey left reluctantly, obviously suspicious of their prisoner.

With a swift click of the cuffs, Penguin was secured to the table. He didn't struggle or complain as he sat there, but his fists were tight in its shackles. Jim and Harvey sat on the opposite side.

"So, I hear you were caught breaking and entering," Jim said, folding his hands in front of him on the table.

"This isn't why I need to speak with you," Penguin blurted, panic rising in his voice. "Time is not on our side! We need to act now."

"Hold your horses!" Harvey yelled, raising his hands for silence. "Let us get our business out of the way and then you can speak. That's how the justice system works."

Penguin slammed his hands on the table, the pound echoing off the walls. He was losing his composure quickly. "P-Please, detectives." His eyes glistened with tears. "You have no idea how important this is."

"Alright," Jim finally said despite Harvey's protest. "Talk."

With a sniffle and a wipe of his eye, Penguin began. "Tonight, I was expecting a singer at the Lounge. She never showed. I went to her apartment. The door was opened ajar so I went in, making myself known, of course. No one was there but the place felt fishy so I… We took a look around. I was inside when the officers arrested me, yes, but I was there because…" He paused, his mouth staggering as he thought his words carefully. But he sighed, rolling his eyes. "She started at the Lounge about a week ago. Since Tuesday, I believe, I've been suspicious of her involvement in an abusive relationship with her boyfriend. I thought the worst when she didn't show up for work so I went to do my own investigation."

"And what exactly was fishy about the place?" He couldn't describe how happy he was that it had nothing to do with a prostitute.

"The place reeked of bleach, and you know just as well as I do what that could mean."

"So, someone spilled something and needed to clean it up," Harvey shrugged. "Doesn't necessarily mean something."

"It does when you go into the bedroom and see bloody clothes. Or go into the bathroom and find a bloodied knife. Or go into the kitchen and blatantly read…" Penguin trailed off. He sighed, bowing his head for a moment in defeat.

"And read what, Penguin?" Harvey teased.

"I may have had a small outburst," he admitted. "But if you look on the kitchen floor, you'll find a torn up card from the boyfriend basically confessing that he hurt her. There's broken glass there too… And maybe some flowers I may have stomped on." He straightened his shoulders.

A smothered smile crept across Harvey's lips, not doubt thinking of Penguin throwing a hissy fit. "What are their names?"

"Samantha O'Shea and Noah White. You two met them briefly at the Lounge just after we spoke about the farm."

Jim mentally pat himself on the back. "And what made you come to the conclusion of the abuse before you broke into the apartment?" Although the conversation at hand was important, he wasn't about to let Penguin forget his crime.

"Her fear of him. The way she was weary around him." His jaw set again, a snarl forming on his upper lip. "The way he snatched away her paycheck the moment I gave it to her. Her defensiveness when I asked her about it."

Harvey leaned forward. "And you didn't tell this to a cop beforehand because…?"

"It's complicated."

Bruised nails picked at the chain connecting Penguin to the table. He was thinking, watching his fingers. Something about this Samantha girl… Jim could tell there was something different about her. She wasn't just a random woman he was infatuated with, oh no.

"Penguin," Jim began cautiously. "You're not exactly the type to ask us for help finding someone. You have you own connections through Falcone, so why come to us? What is it about her that you don't want Falcone to know about?"

"That's none of your concern, Jim Gordon… Plus you're here, Falcone's men are not. It's convenient." Penguin snapped. "Are you going to help me find her or not? If you don't, her blood could be on your hands."

Harvey stood from his chair, jutting a finger at Penguin. "No, it'll be on your hands. If you were suspicious about anything, you should've told someone sooner."

"I said it's complicated!"

Jim raised his hands for order. Despite Penguin's secrets, there was still a woman in potential danger. It was worth looking into. "Do you know where she could be?"

"Other than the Lounge, I'm not personally aware of her whereabouts. She performs at other clubs and bars around Gotham but I don't know the names. Butch found her at a bar uptown but that was all he said. I'll call him tonight once I'm released to get you the information." The sentence was so matter-of-factly, almost humorously so.

"You're not being released tonight," Jim grumbled, also standing. He spoke before Penguin could protest. "We'll look into where Samantha could be, but you still broke and entered into her apartment. Until we can gather all the facts, you're staying here."

"N-no, we all have to be looking for her!" He stood as well, hunched over from his short leash. "Please, Jim. I'm begging you. I'm afraid she could be in serious trouble. I'll pay the bail money right away. Just, please!" Then, in a soft hiss, he said, "You owe me a favor."

"I can't. You're now part of an ongoing investigation. Until we get the facts." Jim spoke slowly, emphasizing every word. He swallowed down his fear for the inevitable retribution coming for him in the near future for denying the favor. He had seen Penguin in a panic before, but it was never for something trivial. It was possible his alarm was fueled by whatever sort of feelings he had for Samantha, but it worried Jim nonetheless. If police protocol didn't specifically say, and if his trust in Penguin didn't rise and fall so often, he would've at least thought about letting him go.

With steady hands, he unshackled the handcuffs from the table. He led Penguin out of the room, a firm grasp on his shoulder to steer him back into the cell.