Chapter 21 - Confess

"Harvey, you've been staring at that tape all morning."

Jim watched his partner from his desk. His eyes hadn't left the television screen, Ruby Ventura entering and exiting the frame on a continuous loop. On his own desk were files strewn about from both the Ventura and Murray cases as he organized the best offense to finally take Penguin down.

Harvey paused the tape, jutting a finger at Ruby's ring. "Where have I seen that before!"

"Does it have anything to do with the case?"

"Do you think I'd be sitting here like an idiot if it didn't?" Then Harvey quickly added, "Don't answer that. But seriously, Jim, you've seen that ring before, yeah?" Ruby left the frame with the man, then the tape whirled backward and the man entered the lobby again.

Jim sighed, setting down his pen, and massaged the bridge of his nose. Despite their breakthrough with Penguin, and Lee's comforting presence, sleep had still avoided his racing mind. "Usually it's me that obsesses over the smaller details with you being the one trying to reel me in. Plus, if you keep this up, you're going to ruin the tape."

"Don't remind me. Have you heard from Ed about the DNA from the Ventura scene?" Harvey asked, just as the John entered the lobby again, greeting the receptionist.

"No, I haven't seen him all morning." Jim couldn't help but watch the screen as well, making note of the man being left handed as he wrote inside Ruby's notebook. "He mentioned yesterday that there were a few discrepancies with it, so I'm sure he's working on that. He can't go too long without solving a puzzle."

"He better hurry up so we can convict Penguin already. I think he's the one stinking up the whole place." Harvey mashed the rewind button again. "Speaking of Penguin, have you heard anything from the unis searching his apartment?"

A low growl vibrated in Jim's throat. Ripping off a blank piece from his writing pad, he crumpled it into a ball and threw it at Harvey's head. "So, when I told you, immediately after they called here, that they found weapons and long hair strands, you didn't hear me?"

"What? They didn't call," Harvey scoffed.

"It was probably an hour ago now!"

"Look, if I don't find out where I've seen this ring before, I'm going to lose my mind. And you think I'm difficult to be around now? Just wait, Jimbo."

"Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, it's just a ring? I'm sure there's thousands just like it in Gotham."

Harvey glanced up above Jim's head, then turned his attention back to the screen. "Ed, you better give me some good news."

"Hey, doesn't that look like the same ring taken from the O'Shea apartment?" Ed adjusted his glasses, leaning in for a closer look at the screen, all the while staying at Jim's side. "I wonder…"

Harvey's head snapped up, his face a mixture of surprise and complete hatred.

Stifling a laugh, Jim pursed his lips and glanced back from his partner to Ed, whose cheerful smile began to falter. He began to apologize sincerely, but Harvey only stood in a huff, dropping the television remote on the floor with a thunk, and walked away.

"While you're up, go get the O'Shea box from evidence!" Jim called to him, receiving a middle finger in return.

"I'm sorry, Detective! I–"

"Ed, don't worry about it," Jim chuckled, patting his friend on the back. "He's been trying to place that ring since yesterday. Without you, it probably would've been another a few days until he figured it out. He'll get over it." When Ed's frown didn't lift, Jim patted him again. "Tell me what you've got."

With a meek smile, Ed set several manila folders onto Jim's desk. "We've got quite the doozy on our hands. First off, the discrepancies I talked about yesterday–"

"Here, take a seat," Jim offered, gesturing to Harvey's empty chair.

"Oh, why thank you." Ed swiveled it over and sat, his smile beaming now. "Anyway, there were a few irregularities but after seeing that footage," he nodded toward the television, "it all makes sense now. So, first off, here's the match to the hair found on Ruby Ventura." He picked a folder from the middle of the pile and handed it to Jim, who opened it and, after a few seconds, his eyes widened with amazement.

"It's him," he breathed, then glanced up at the television just as Ruby entered the frame. Jim scrambled over and paused the tape. How lucky could they possibly be? It almost seemed too easy, almost like a dream.

"David Noah White," Ed announced, shuffling back to Jim's side. "He would be almost thirty years old now, but legally he's been dead for five. Police found his car crashed into the river. Never found the body. Apparently, there were accusations that he killed his parents but because of his death, it never made it to court."

"Well, looks like his ghost has been quite busy. I wonder why so suddenly he's been leaving evidence. There was nothing left on the previous victims." Jim played the tape again but in slow motion, watching as Ruby joked with her client.

"People get careless after a while, I guess."

"So, Samantha O'Shea has been living with this guy? He was obviously keeping his past a secret."

"Mm-hmm, I took the liberty of cross checking the DNA from the Ventura scene with what was found at the apartment, since their names matched and I had a hunch. It's definitely him. Though, if you read his family background, he has an identical twin brother," Ed ran his finger through the file, until he found the name, "Roman Benjamin White. He was accused of being his brother's accomplice in the parenticide, but wasn't convicted." Ed scuttled back to the desk, pulling out another folder and handing it to Jim. "That could quite possibly be him since twins share the same DNA. If I had a fingerprint from the brother, however, I could do an analysis. But there aren't any on file for him, for some reason."

Jim opened the folder, sighing. "How convenient that things go missing in this place." Immediately Jim took note of the brother's different colored eyes. He then studied the tape as it played. "You never do get a good look at his eyes in the tape, even if it is in black and white."

Jim and Harvey had seen him as well, but it had only been in passing that day in the club. But Penguin had seen him, spoke to him, spent time with him. He was the only possible witness to claim that Noah White was alive. And he had just been informally charged with the murders of Ruby Ventura, Julia Murray and four other women. With the newest evidence coming to light, Jim knew it was time to have another talk.

Harvey was going to throw a fit.

"Also, on a semi-related note," Ed said, taking another folder from the desk and handing it to Jim. "The blood on the knife found in the O'Shea apartment does belong to a woman. However, I'm not able to find an owner to it since it doesn't belong to any of the victims and there's nothing on file for Ms. O'Shea."

"Of course there isn't," Jim grumbled.

"But Mr. Penguin's prints are definitely on it. There's no mistake about that."

"Yeah, that's what confuses me the most." What reason would Penguin have to work with Noah, especially since it seemed logical that he wouldn't want to harm one of his performers? Penguin may have worked for Falcone, but if he acted the same way he did around Maroni, he was easily intimidated by his boss. Although he backstabbed Fish, Falcone was one with more money, more influence, more power. Would he dare go behind his back?

The business card points to Penguin. The DNA points to Noah. The knife points to Penguin. The video tape points to Noah.

"Thanks, Ed," Jim mumbled, closing the several files in his hand, losing himself in his own mind. Once Harvey was back from the evidence room, they'd talk with Penguin once again. No more secrets, no more holding back. Penguin needed to let go of whatever pride he was still holding onto.

"No, thank you, Detective," Ed emphasized, his smile only growing wider. "Since you asked for these to be expedited, I'll go ahead and analyze the rest of the evidence found at the O'Shea apartment now. The evidence from Mr. Penguin's apartment should be coming in any minute now, so I'll be taking a look at that too." With one shy wave of his hand, he scampered off.

"Thanks again," Jim repeated, ejecting the tape from the VCR. As he turned to sit back at his desk, he glanced over to the row of holding cells. A beef of a man was talking to Penguin. What was his name again? Bill…Bob…Butch! Why was no one stopping him?

Dropping the evidence at his desk, he rushed to them, and they shushed just as Penguin noticed him approaching.

"Hey, no talking to prisoners," Jim growled, his hands firm on his hips.

Butch held up his hands in sarcastic submission. A smug smile was plastered on his face, only fueling Jim's annoyance. "Hey, no harm, no foul. Though, to be fair, if you allowed my boss his one phone call, I wouldn't have to come looking for him."

"Well, you found him, now get out."

"So terse! Alright, alright, I'm leaving." Butch glanced over to Penguin, just for a brief moment and they locked eyes. "I've got things to take care of anyway. See you around."

Jim watched him leave, his stride purposeful but quick, then drew his attention to Penguin. He was clutching the bars of his cage, his lips held tight in a thin line.

"Is there something I can help you with, Jim?"

"Actually, there is. Once Harvey comes back, we're going to have another nice chat." Jim's grin was forced, but only from exhaustion. Despite the fact that several women were dead and a serial killer was still on the loose, he had to admit he'd enjoy listening to Penguin spill his soul. After having to rely on him so many times in the past, it was nice to watch him squirm a bit.

"I'm looking forward to it." Penguin smiled politely but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Partner," came Harvey's voice in Jim's ear.

Jim jumped in his shoes before turning around and coming face to face with another photo in an evidence bag. He exhaled a chuckle, taking the bag and examining it closer. He glanced back at Penguin, still staring at him, then gestured Harvey to walk back to the desks.

"Where did you get this?" Jim asked once they were out of earshot.

"Got stopped by a uni on my way to the Evidence Room. A patrolman found Julia Murray's car parked near a club in uptown. That was in the glove box. Look on the back. I think Penguin left another little note."

The black and white photo seemed almost amusing as Penguin and Noah stared each other down at a table at the Iceberg Lounge. A wad of cash was in Penguin's hand. Noah's hand was balled into a fist. Jim turned the photo over, reading the address there. The street name felt familiar somehow.

"The address is the O'Shea place," Harvey said, taking the O'Shea file from Jim's desk and double checking. "So, why would a photo of Penguin and White be in a dead hooker's car?"

"We need to talk to Penguin again. The evidence Ed handed over after you left rips this case wide open. I hate to admit it, and it may be too early to even think about it, but the possibility of Penguin being our guy is now… slightly less plausible."

Harvey growled, slapping the file down on the desk. "But Christmas, Jim! I said it was going to be Christmas! Where's your holiday cheer?"

"I want to put him away just as much as you do, but there's very, very strong evidence that he," Jim slammed his finger down on Noah's black and white face, "is it. Photos and notes can't compete with DNA, Harv. And his DNA, or his twin brother's, is all over Ruby Ventura." Jim nodded at Harvey's gawk. "Yeah, we're dealing with twins here." Sifting through the mountain of files on his desk, he handed over Roman's file.

"You don't know, maybe she didn't shower after he visited her at the brothel," Harvey speculated, not taking his eyes off the file.

"And what's the likelihood of that, honestly? Especially since she had a fiancée."

"Yeah about that… That was the second thing I was going to tell you." Harvey sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Another uni stopped me, because I'm just so damn popular. Juan Martinez was found across town. He'd been staying with a friend. Friend went out for a while and came back to Juan in the tub, needles in his arms. He left a note, saying he couldn't go on without her."

Jim was silent for a moment. He shook his head, closed his eyes. "Whether it's Penguin or Noah, we need to stop whoever has done all this. He's ruining more lives than he thinks. We need to go talk to Penguin again."

"After you," Harvey offered, collecting the folders from the desk, still reading through them as he walked.

Jim trudged back down to the holding cells. Penguin was sitting on the bench, leaned over with his hands on his face. Jim clicked the handcuffs on the metal bars to gain his attention. Penguin jumped.

"Are those still necessary?" Penguin asked, gestured to the handcuffs. "They're very uncomfortable and we both know my physicality is not exactly intimidating."

"Police protocol," was all Jim said, unlocking the door.

Penguin stepped forward, his wrists limp out in front of him and winced as the metal tightened around his bones. The smell creeping from him was growing unbearable and Jim hurried him from the cage, pushing him forward to the interrogation room, but still aware of his bad knee. Penguin may have been a sociopathic murderer, but Jim wasn't one to take advantage of others' disabilities.

As before, each man took their place at the cold table, the snapping of the handcuffs echoing off the bare walls. No drink was offered; no witty banter was made. The manila folders for Ruby Ventura, Julia Murray, Noah White and Roman White were laid out nicely in front of the detectives. Jim spoke first.

"There's been a few developments since we last talked, Penguin."

"I'm sure none of it is good news." Penguin's back was straight, his clear eyes boring deep into Jim, making him wonder if Penguin still considered them to be friends.

"Our goal for today," Harvey began, a smile creeping to the surface, "is for you to spill the beans on everything if you want the chance to ever get out of this place."

"I've already told you everything I know, aside from personal information that I'd rather keep private."

"Sorry, no can do." Harvey gestured to the Julia Murray file and Jim opened it, unclipping the black and white surveillance photo from the Iceberg Lounge and slid it in front of Penguin. The color noticeably left the underboss's face.

"Where did you get that?" Penguin asked, his eyes not able to leave the photo.

"You tell us. Where do you think we found it?"

Penguin was silent for well over a minute, his eyes darting as he seemingly thought of a good answer, most likely one that was the least embarrassing. His hands flexed in and out of fists. He nibbled nervously on his bottom lip.

"Just tell the truth," Jim said, softer than he meant, but he needed that information circling around and around in his mind. "That's all we want. People are being killed out there. I know that's not necessarily a problem for you but–"

"Jim, let me make one thing quite clear. I am not a monster. Things don't happen just for the sake of… being done. There are reasons for everything. I have no reason to kill these women. In fact…" Penguin's voice trailed off, his lips barely moving as he mumbled the rest of his sentence.

"Speak up!" Harvey snapped.

Penguin rolled his eyes, exhaling deeply. "Yes, I lied, alright? I knew her."

"There's no big surprise there."

"She told me her name was Tawny Jones. I hired her for a job." Penguin slid the photo back to Jim, obviously uncomfortable having it so close to him. "No, I did no sleep with her. Just being inside the room made me itchy."

"Don't knock it until you try it," Harvey teased. "What'd you hire her for?"

"To seduce Noah White. I had no idea she would be dead, seemingly by his hand, just days later. If I had known, I certainly wouldn't have asked her."

The words seemed so matter-of-fact, Jim could've sworn he heard him wrong. "To seduce him?"

Harvey's eyes squinted as he also tried to make sense of it. "Is this like some sort of buddy bachelor party game?"

The bridge of Penguin's nose was turning pink, his lips puckered in annoyance. "It's… complicated."

"No, no, no," Harvey chuckled, jabbing a finger in his prisoner's direction. "You don't get to say that anymore."

"Oswald," Jim started, the name feeling too bizarre for his tongue. But reaching to Penguin's softer side was the only way to get him to talk. If he thought they were best friends, then he'd be his best friend for the remainder of the interrogation if need be. He'd do it for all the other Ruby Venturas and Julia Murrays out there that were at risk of meeting a similar fate. "Please. We need to know. Just tell the truth. We won't judge, right, Harv?" His elbow nudged into his partner's side.

Harvey hesitated, but managed to force out, "Yeah, no judgement."

The freckles speckled across Penguin's nose popped as blush engulfed his face, before he bowed his head. His hands balled into shaking fists. He was so tense, his strained muscles seen through the layers of his clothing. He mumbled again, too soft to hear.

"Please," Harvey growled.

"I wanted their relationship to end." Penguin's head snapped up, tears teasing the corners of his eyes. "There, I feel completely foolish now. Are you happy? I hired her to seduce Noah White in the hopes that Samantha would find out and dump him. If I had known all of this would happen, I would've just killed him myself."

Jim wiped his callused fingers up and down the line of his jaw, massaging away a knowing smile. Things were finally starting to make sense. He knew the reason for helping out Samantha O'Shea wasn't just because she was a good performer. He knew Penguin's reaction to her when she entered the Lounge that day was a nervous kind of infatuation that only someone as awkward as Penguin could muster. Now that he was finally telling the truth, things were starting to connect. Jim wouldn't push Penguin much further on the subject if he didn't want him to clam up from embarrassment again. Harvey, on the other hand…

"If you love her so much, why are your fingerprints on the bloody knife in her apartment?" Harvey blurted, obviously enjoying watching Penguin squirm. He smiled at Jim, who glared and dug his elbow into his side in return.

Penguin stammered, starting a sentence then abandoning it, starting another only to abandon it as well. "It's… Well, I… Um."

"How about start from the beginning?" Jim offered. "Start from here." He lifted the photo of the two men glaring at each other from opposite sides of the black and white table. "We won't interrupt anymore, right, Harv?" He eyed his partner, suddenly feeling like an old married couple trying to discipline their child. His stomach turned.

With an exasperated sigh, Harvey agreed.

Penguin's lips turned into a frustrated pout and he sat silent for another few moments until his mouth relaxed. His body slumped in his chair and he sighed. "After you two left, we talked for a while. Samantha had forgotten her payment from her performance the night before…"