Chapter Sixty-One: A Plot Thick As Mud
Author's Note: Hello, my Lovelies! Here's another chapter! We're almost, if not already, into Season 3B! Can you imagine? In the next chapter, things get really spicy between Ed and Sylvia *
Barbara found Tabitha.
She also found Butch.
She also found Nygma just moments after Tabitha's hand was chopped off by a guillotine. While Nygma only recommended for the decapitated hand to be iced on the way to the hospital, Barbara acted quickly, untying both Butch and Tabitha and getting them all into a car so they could head to the hospital.
While Butch transported Tabitha in a wheelchair through the hall, Barbara carried the hand.
"Do you think she'll be okay?" Butch asked worriedly, glancing down at Tabitha, who was lumbering between sleep and wakefulness. "Do you think they'll be able to reattach the hand?"
"Please. She's tough as nails; she should be fine."
"You know this is war, right? Nygma, Penguin, anyone that stands with them. They're all dead!"
"This Isabella," said Barbara curiously. "Nygma said she was a librarian. Who kills a librarian? I mean, what's the motive?"
They turned the next corridor where a bunch of orderlies and nurses were gathered for the change of shift. One was about to object to their sudden intrusion until Barbara shoved the bag of ice (with a hand in it) into her face; immediately, the tone changed and Tabitha was being instantly escorted to the surgery room for reattachment of her missing appendage.
"Maybe someone had an overdue book and things got out of hand," Butch offered after Tabitha was wheeled on a gurney to the Emergency Room. He looked at Barbara, who seemed more puzzled about the ordeal and why it happened rather than what or who it happened to.
"You lull someone to a bridge, alone at night," thought Barbara aloud, earning a curious look from Butch. "You get them to meet you on a bridge, with no weapons. No armed guards, no extra body to witness anything. Isabella would have had to know them."
"Penguin?" asked Butch.
"Nygma said a homeless man named Tabitha," Barbara reminded.
"She wasn't there!"
"I know that, you idiot!"
"So what?"
"So, that means there was a woman there, who called herself 'Tabitha'. Used Tabitha's name as an alias, likely thinking that Isabella would've walked out of that meeting alive. The enemy in her mind would've been named 'Tabitha'; if she had a violent bone in her body, she'd be after her." Barbara contemplated.
"Okay…?"
Barbara gestured to him, saying, "What woman do we know would try to get Isabella out of the way—we don't know. But we do know a woman whohates Tabitha with every fiber of her being. And who is also a close friend to Nygma."
Butch stared at her and shook his head: "No."
"Yes." Barbara breathed. "But it's not just her."
"That sounds like enough motivation to me," Butch assured unhappily. "Sylvia, though. Why would she—"
"Why wouldn't she, is more like."
"I don't get it."
"Sylvia doesn't kill people just for the hell of it," Barbara stated. "Normally, she's either pissed off or vengeful…or…."
"Or?"
"Carrying out the orders of the only person she really ever listens to."
Butch said skeptically, "Who?"
"The same person who is in love with Nygma and doesn't want to share him," Barbara said mischievously.
"Okay. One woman in love with that psychotic bean pole defies explanation, but two?"
"Whoever said it was a woman?" Barbara giggled. She added seriously, "I am tired of sitting at the kids' table. If I'm right, we can have way more than vengeance. We can have it all. We don't need to go to war. All we need to do is start one!"
"But who is it?"
"That's really all you can—fine. It's Penguin."
"Penguin is in love with Nygma?" asked Butch incredulously.
"Mayor and his Chief-of-Staff."
"But what about Sylvia—"
"She's supportive!" Barbara exclaimed, grinning widely. "From what I hear, she and Nygma have had at least one night together."
"So, the Mayor, his Chief-of-Staff, and the First Lady of Gotham—"
"—Ah, I really wouldn't think too hard on it, big guy. Where Sylvia and Nygma are concerned, it doesn't sound too serious, but ya never know."
"So, they're friends with benefits…" Butch groaned.
"It sounds like it."
"That's…"
"I know." Barbara agreed.
"Why would Sylvia kill someone that Nygma loves?" Butch asked.
They sat in Tabitha's room within Gotham General. She was still asleep—the doctor gave her some heavy sedatives to dull down the pain of her attached hand.
Barbara sat on the other side of Tabitha's bed. She hooked her ankles together, mindful of their quiet conversation. Luckily, the door was closed—and they were the only occupants in the room, currently.
"Because Penguin told her to."
"But emotion and all that," Butch reminded.
"She probably got the order, but Sylvia isn't a cold-blooded killer. I think what happened was that she tried to talk Isabella into leaving town for Oswald's sake, try to go about it in a less bloody way. Things got out of hand, and Isabella went bye-bye and over the bridge."
"Nygma mentioned a gun."
"Isabella was shot," Barbara explained, eying him pointedly. "But Sylvia wouldn't carry a gun if she thought the situation would have been handled bloodless. I think someone else was there."
"Penguin?"
"No. He wouldn't do the dirty work himself. You're using him as your go-to, I get it, but still. Kind of annoying, really."
Butch growled, "We'll make them pay for it."
"For now, we'd leave Sylvia out of it."
"She killed the librarian."
"Yes, she did," Barbara agreed. "But I think Penguin manipulated her into killing her."
"Why?"
"She's in love with Penguin more than she's in love with herself. Self-preservation isn't her strongest suit; but making him happy is. Even if it is at the expense of hurting a friend, no matter what the benefit is," Barbara said coolly. She brushed a hand through her hair, adding, "As passionate as our Lark is, she really is too much of a Penguin-pleaser."
Butch stood from his chair, looking at Barbara: "You like her, don't you?"
"Of course, I like her," Barbara said shamelessly. "What is there not to like?"
"She's complicit in this whole thing!" He gestured to Tabitha. "She's basically the reason Nygma came after her!"
"It's her fault but it's not her fault. She's literally following orders."
"She could have chosen not to follow those orders."
"Maybe. But if Tabitha told you to kill someone, wouldn't you do it?"
Butch neither agreed nor disagreed. And because of his lack of response, Barbara knew she'd proven her point.
"So, what do we do?" asked Butch.
"We make them turn on each other."
"Easier said than done. There's no way you're going to make Sylvia turn on Penguin if she's willing to kill Nygma's girlfriend all in the name of making her husband happy."
Barbara snickered, "We just need to put our chess pieces on the board, and they'll move on their own."
Butch sat back down, leaning forward. He gingerly held Tabitha's arm in his hands, stroking it with the pad of his thumb. Barbara did something similar, although she massaged Tabitha's head, lightly lacing her fingers through her hair.
"I tell Nygma about Penguin's love for him," Barbara plotted. "That comes first. He'll obviously deny it. But after a small confrontation with Penguin, he'll figure out what I said was the truth. Then, he'll come to us."
"I'm not working with that freak."
"You might have to if we want more than just vengeance. Gotham is in my blood; I think it's time we took it for ourselves," said Barbara lucratively. She brushed her hand over Tabitha's cheek, adding, "We deserve that much, and so much more."
"Once he finds out that Sylvia killed Isabella, Nygma might kill her first. That'll really put a wrench in things."
"He won't." Barbara said assuredly.
"What makes you so certain?"
"They have history. Nygma may be pissed off later that Sylvia killed her, but he knows—just like I do—how great of an influence Penguin has over her."
"How does a guy like Penguin have that much control over someone like Sylvia though?" Butch said irritably. "She can literally have any guy or woman. She had Gotham on its knees at one point. Why follow him?"
"I know you're angry, baby," Barbara mused. "But you're always missing the whole point. They don't just love each other. They need each other. When one falls, the other isn't too far behind. And they have history—They've been through more together than what normal married couples have to endure, even by Gotham's standards. You and Tabitha were integral in that."
Butch winced, thinking of how Galavan had followed through with killing Oswald's mother, and how Tabitha had really done the deed.
"So, if we kill Sylvia first, we take down Penguin after."
"No. We can't kill her."
"But you just said—"
"—If we kill her, both Nygma and Penguin will be coming for us!" Barbara hissed. She tapped the bed lining, adding, "When I said we need to plan this carefully, I meant it! Like a game of chess. To break a barrier like the trust and love Sylvia and Penguin have for each other requires more than just a killing."
She pondered for a moment, then smiled.
"Why do bridges collapse over time?" She asked arbitrarily.
Butch stared at her, saying, "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Stress," Barbara answered her own question eagerly, leaning forward with a wide smile. "Bridges collapse because of stress over time, and weight. Now…" She stood, pacing slowly around the room. "I've seen the two of them—Penguin and Sylvia. Nygma is grieving so Penguin's had to pick up the slack where Nygma normally would be operative, also handling the affairs that come with being Mayor, while also doing what he does with the Underworld."
She stopped in place, turning to Butch.
"Sylvia has been getting more involved with her performances, her work as a First Lady of Gotham, taking on Paddock's old role as a gang leader, and I bet the Penguin-Isabella-Nygma triangle hasn't been granting her any reprieve either," Barbara continued. "All of that stress, plus a few little things we're about to introduce…Stress can make or break a marriage. We can use that."
Butch frowned: "It's like you said though. They've been through a lot. And they've come out stronger."
"I know."
"They lost a baby together."
"I know that too."
"So how would this whole thing even break the surface of what they've got going on?" Butch asked, frustrated.
Barbara smirked: "Put tons of weight on a bridge, and it won't crack. Add a single bookend, and suddenly, the whole thing is in the damn water. Oswald's empire, the mayoral reputation, his subordinates, all of that can be crippled."
"And Sylvia? With her beside him, he'll still have power."
"Not if we can get her out of the way."
"By killing her?"
"No. For a moment, get murder off your mind," Barbara chastised.
"So, if not murder, what then!" Butch snapped, throwing his hands up in the air.
"We separate them. Not physically, obviously. Emotionally."
"What, a break-up?"
Barbara nodded: "More than that. To get Penguin alone, to kill him properly, we would need to make sure that Sylvia is no where near him. She needs to get angry enough, hateful enough, spiteful enough to really leave. At least for a couple of days, maybe even four."
"That's impossible."
"Not if you know her well enough."
"Who'd know her that well enough to know what would tear them apart?"
Barbara moved forward and patted Butch's head saying smartly, "The one person you really don't want to work with."
"Nygma?"
"That's riiiight," Barbara sang. "And he'd know Sylvia and Oswald's worst scraps in the past. Oswald loves him; Sylvia confides in him. He'd know the sore spot to prod, to get them apart."
"That sounds like a brilliant plan," Butch whispered with a large grin.
Barbara grinned back and said with a beautiful smile, "Did you expect anything different from me?"