EPISODE 10: Tracey Buxton
The next morning, Bruce found himself driving into Gotham again. The trees whirled past him as he quickly moved through every contour of the winding roads around Wayne Manor. He had scheduled an appointment with Oswald Cobblepot's secretary Tracey Buxton to go over some of the utility options that Wayne Industries could outfit onto the Cobblepot Shoe Factory. As Oswald Cobblepot's personal secretary, she would have to be aware of the secret operations of the Cobblepot Shoe Company. Bruce knew he was going to have to work hard in order to get her to crack, but he was ready for such a scenario. He was always ready.
Bruce parked his small, blue sports car in a garage by the Cobblepot Shoe Factory. He lifted himself out of the vehicle and strode towards the front door of the factory. He heard the sound of his shoes clicking against the stone floor of the lobby as he strode towards a skinny young woman sitting at a large brown reception desk. He gave her a smile and told her of his business.
"Hello, I'm Bruce Wayne and I'm here to see Tracey Buxton. We have an appointment to discuss a new utilities service package for the factory." Bruce said politely. The woman eyed him up and down. Bruce was wearing a fine grey suit with a black tie. She thought he was quite handsome and Bruce could tell.
"Yes. I'll let her know that you're here." She said smiling. Bruce returned the gesture before gazing up at the ornate ceiling of the lobby. Despite this place being a factory for shoes, this reminded Bruce very much of the parties and galas he was invited to. There were high, arched ceilings, crown molding as well as a giant gawdy chandelier in the center of the room. Large portraits of generations of the Cobblepot family were all around Bruce. There were four in total and he studied them closely. The first appeared to be of Oswald's great grandparents. The man was tall and powerful and the woman was slim and pretty. They had seven kids orbiting around them, each looking happily at Bruce. The next painting was of Oswald's grand-parents. This time the man was a little shorter and the woman was a little more made up than her mother. Her hair sat unnaturally atop her head and the scarlet hue of her lipstick stood out to anyone who saw the portrait. Three kids stood in front of the pretentious parents this time, each with a glum expression. The third painting was even more startling than the last. The man was considerably wider than his father and wrinkles caused by stress stretched across his forehead. The wife was likewise heavier than the woman before and she too wore a face of longing. Hidden beneath the layers and bright colors of her makeup was a face that wished for a simpler life. This time there was only one child. He was a small, round boy who Bruce recognized right away as Oswald. He could very clearly see why the nickname of the "penguin' attached itself to him. His nose shot out in front of him and his stride was unusually wide. The final portrait was of a full grown Oswald, looking much like the man Bruce had seen through the vents, with a few creative touches to make him look younger and more fierce. Oswald's wife was even more artificial looking than his mother, if that was even possible. Bruce stared at her provocative face that was surrounded by fine jewelry and a flashy pink dress. Bruce was shaken from his study of the Cobblepot family when he heard the receptionist in the background.
"She'll be down shortly, Mr. Wayne." The receptionist said, turning to Bruce.
"Thank you." Bruce said with a slight bow. The two sat in silence for a moment.
"You know, that portrait of Oswald is new. It seems they're always changing that one. I've heard it's the third one they've put in here. Crazy, right?" She said.
"That is interesting." Bruce said, watching his words carefully. He was unsure of how far this operation ran.
"You know—". The receptionist started to speak when a ding was heard from the elevator. The golden doors slowly slid open revealing Tracey Buxton. She locked eyes with Bruce and smiled. She strode over to him, her hips swaying. She was in a form fitting black dress and her blonde hair slowly cascaded down her shoulders.
"Hello, Mr. Wayne. Come with me and we can get started with the utilities meeting." She said politely.
"That's a swell idea." Bruce said. The two walked into the elevator and disappeared from view as the doors slid together.
The two stood quietly for a moment before Bruce broke the silence.
"How do you do, today?" Bruce asked with a smile.
"I'm well. How about yourself?" Tracey replied returning the smile. She was quite a few inches shorter than Bruce as the top of her head barely reached Bruce's shoulders. He was a towering figure next to her. After some more friendly small talk, the elevator made a ding indicating that the two had reached the executive level of the factory. The two walked into a smaller lobby than the first, but it shared the same extravagant design philosophy as the one Bruce was in before.
"We'll head to the conference room here." Tracey said motioning to a brown door that stood out on the maroon colored walls of the lobby. Their two pairs of shoes clicked and clacked on the marble floor beneath until they arrived in the conference room. Tracey walked to the head of a large wooden table with what appeared to be ten chairs on each side. Bruce sat down next to Tracey on the side closest to the back wall. The room was the same maroon color as the lobby and light trickled in from the ceiling lamp above and two windows on the wall that Bruce's back was facing. Bruce lifted the brief case he had brought with him and placed it on the chocolate colored table with a gentle click.
"So. Shall we get down to business?" Bruce said. Tracey nodded with a smile as she took out a note pad and uncapped her pen to track some of the details of the conversation.
After twenty minutes of the Wayne Industries Utilities pitch, Tracey's note pad was filled with prices, services and figures. She and Bruce were laughing frequently throughout their conversation. A joke here, a smile there and Tracey really began to enjoy the conversation that she was having with Gotham's most eligible bachelor.
"Oh, Mr. Wayne, what-ever did you do after you lost your water skis?" She asked hardly containing her laughter.
"Please, do call me Bruce, we've known each other long enough now to stop with the formalities," Bruce said and Tracey nodded. "And…well, I made do with what I had and skied barefoot." Bruce said chuckling.
"You did not!" Tracey said, her mouth agape. "I haven't heard of anyone water skiing in the San Francisco bay, much less without any water skis!" She was laughing loudly again. Bruce mirrored the gesture until there was a knock at the door. The two stopped for a moment as Tracey rose to her feet to answer it. She was suppressing her laughter between each step. She opened the door to reveal Oswald Cobblepot standing in the doorway with a slight smile on his face.
"Mr. Cobblepot! How are you?" Tracey asked with a palpable sense of surprise in her voice.
"I'm just checking in to see how this meeting is going. And looking for an excuse to meet with Mr. Bruce Wayne!" Oswald said with a laugh as he strode towards Bruce's end of the table. Bruce stood enthusiastically as the man waddled in his direction.
"It's a pleasure, Mr. Cobblepot." Bruce said giving Oswald a firm handshake.
"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Wayne." Oswald said as he tightly grasped Bruce's right hand.
"Tracey is quite the secretary, she's taken excellent notes that will be very useful for you to make your decision on whether to go with Wayne Industries for this factory's utilities." Bruce said confidently.
"Yes, yes. That is why I've hired her. I appreciate that you've come all of the way here to pitch this yourself. Don't you have a sales staff?" Oswald asked with a curious face.
"We do. But sometimes I like to do the work myself. I like to keep the personal feeling with the company even though we're such a large operation now." Bruce said. Oswald nodded.
"I respect that, Mr. Wayne. I take up a similar philosophy and I hope that comes through in our work here." Oswald said. "Well, Mr. Wayne. It has been an absolute pleasure, but I must be on my way. I hope to be seeing you again soon. Tracey, try not to fall in love with him, okay?" Oswald said with a laugh as he exited the room. The two returned to their seats again.
"Try not to fall in love with me." Bruce said with a chuckle. Tracey's eyes shot to the ground bashfully.
"Mr. Cobblepot loves to joke around, it's part of the fun of working here." She replied.
"What's it like working for him? He seems like a rather interesting fellow." Bruce asked, with his right index finger on his temple.
"Oh, interesting is quite the word. Oswald gets here early and stays here very late. So that means I have to be right there with him. Even if it's until three in the morning." She said with a sigh. Bruce clicked a small personal tape recorder that was in his suit jacket pocket.
"What could he possibly be doing that's work related at three in the morning?" Bruce asked. Tracey's face froze. She had said too much.
"Uhm…Mr. Cobblepot is really busy trying to make sure all of his employees are taken care of during these times. I really admire the fact that I work for a man that is so dedicated to his employees." She said as if she were trying to convince herself.
"But didn't the company lose a number of its employees because of the depression?" Bruce asked inquisitively. Tracey was stumped. Her face showed her confusion and desperation for answers.
"He's looking into ways to keep his old employees afloat too." She stammered.
"Interesting. I can really admire that. I know myself that it's been difficult to keep workers recently." Bruce said. Tracey sighed out of relief.
"What has he been doing to keep his people working? It can't be making shoes at three in the morning." Bruce asked. Tracey's stomach dropped again.
"Bruce, if you don't mind, could we bring the conversation back to utilities?" Tracey forced these words out of her mouth. Bruce nodded politely.
"My apologies. A lot of good people who worked for Wayne Industries have been put out of work because of the depression and I was looking to help them out. But we can go back to utilities if you'd like." Bruce said. Tracey shot him a look of guilt.
"Yes. Let's do that. It's not like what Mr. Cobblepot is doing is anything that you'd want to get involved with." Tracey said.
"Nothing illegal I hope." Bruce said sarcastically. Tracey looked surprised.
"It isn't actually illegal, is it?" Bruce asked, his face turning deathly serious. Tracey came in close to Bruce.
"Don't tell anyone that I told you this. But that Penguin fellow that we've been hearing about, that's Mr. Cobblepot. He's the Penguin. He's been running a weapons business out of this factory for months now to keep revenue up since shoe production is way down. I've wanted to tell the police, but I cannot lose this job. I don't know what I'd do." She said nervously. Bruce sat in silence with a stunned look on his face. He did his best to hide his excitement since she told him exactly what he needed to hear to get Oswald arrested.
"I'm so sorry to hear that." Bruce said. "I can't imagine how difficult this is for you." Despite Bruce's serious demeanor, he was overjoyed at what Tracey had told him.
"Everything is going to be okay, Tracey." Bruce said with a calm look on his face.
"I sure hope so. Can we get back to talking about utilities now?" Tracey said with a forced laugh.
"Absolutely." said Bruce as he clicked the recorder off.
Tracey and Bruce continued to discuss the details of the utilities deal at length so that Tracey had enough information to hand off to Oswald to make the final decision. Such a big investment on the end of the company would need approval from Oswald himself. At the end of their meeting, Tracey walked Bruce to the golden elevator that the two came in earlier. They took the golden box down to the lobby and Tracey and Bruce said their goodbyes. As Bruce was leaving, he heard the familiar voice of the receptionist bidding him farewell too. He smiled and waved back to the reception desk returning the gesture.
Bruce made it back to his car and plopped himself in the front seat. He pulled open his suit jacket to reveal an experimental personal recording device that he had built himself. He had modified the magnetic tape technology that had been invented in Germany a few years ago so that it would fit in a portable tape recorder. It took him and Alfred months to get the device working properly and he had no doubt that it captured everything that Tracey had said about her manipulative boss. Feeling satisfied at not only the day's interrogation, but also with the prospect of bringing in a huge client to Wayne Industries, Bruce started his car and hearing the gentle purr of the engine, drove back to Wayne Manor.