The next day
As I rode in one of Ozzie's cars, being driven by one of his drivers; I was debating on whether I should tell him about the flowers that Dr. Strange had given me. Seeing them this morning as I was leaving the apartment, I was reminded of the unusual feeling that the gesture gave me. But then remembering Ozzie's temper, I decided to not mention it. I looked at the sky as we reached the driveway of the mansion, noting that clouds were beginning to gather in the distance that were quite menacing. I should have brought my umbrella I thought when the car stopped. I walked around the second car in front of the mansion and reached the front door. I was about to knock, when the door suddenly opened; and Detective Gordon almost ran into me as he was exiting.
"Oh! Detective Gordon! How nice to…" He seemed quite agitated as he interrupted, "I'm not a detective anymore." He paused a moment and then continued, "You're…you're Ms. James, aren't you?" "Well, yes, it's wonderful to see you again, sir." I backed up, allowing him to cross the threshold and close the door behind him. "What are you doing here?" he asked in a low, gravely voice. "I'm here to see Oswald, we have lunch together." His eyes flashed in anger and he grabbed my arm firmly, "He's dangerous. You need to leave, and never come back; do you understand me?" I know, the cynical part of my mind agreed. I looked down at his hand, and he released me impulsively. "We…we have an understanding, Mr. Gordon…" I said with as firm a tone as I could muster, to show him that I was aware of my situation. "Thank you for your concern. May I ask, how are you doing? Why are you…?" I was going to ask him why he wasn't detective anymore, but he must have interpreted my question as something else, because he responded, "Cobblepot asked me to…never mind. Please, just…do what I tell you and leave."
As Mr. Gordon pulled out of the driveway, I disregarded his warning and went inside. I saw Ozzie seated at the long dining room table in the large antique looking wooden chair just in front of the fireplace. One thing that I liked most about the mansion was the number of candelabras that were lit all around the room, giving the impression of a medieval castle. Butch was holding a leather bag in his hands and was leaving the room, nodding to me as he said, "Ms. James…" "Oh, Butch…How are you? Are your headaches still causing you issues?" "Butch!" I heard Ozzie yell from the end of the room, "Stop bothering Ms. James and get that bag to the office! Now!" Butch twitched his head and muttered an apology as he left the room. "Fee!" Ozzie shouted in a friendly manner, "I'm so…sorry for not being there last night…" he got up from his seat as I approached, "business got in the way…"
I couldn't control my tongue any longer, "Ozzie, it isn't right…." His face was confused, "What is?..." "I've been made aware of Butch's situation, how he was…programmed…to follow your orders." The longer I spoke, Ozzie's face melted from contentment to sternness. Suddenly he snapped a fake smile over his lips as he replied, "He's just a loyal associate, that's all…" "Ozzie…." I said with a serious tone, "That isn't true is it? It's horrible to hold someone captive, especially in their own mind. Please, let him get some help. I'm sure that he would be grateful." "That is out of the question!" he yelled as he slapped the table. This caused me to jump and he immediately tried to reign in his outburst. "Fee…" he rounded the corner of the table to walk slowly toward me. "You don't…understand, how things are in Gotham. Things are…very different from when we were children." He took my hand and looked into my eyes. "Fee, I have to…do some difficult things… in order to maintain my position. I need allies to do so." I snatched my hand away from his, one thing I hated was to be patronized. "He isn't an ally though, is he? He's a slave." I could see a spark of anger in his eyes, but I couldn't back down now. I turned my back to him and asked, "And are your allies required to do things for you, to stay in your good graces?" "Well…it's quid pro quo. They do things and receive compensation in return." The moment had come. There was a thought that had been culminating for a while now. It was now coming to a head, now was the time that I would ask about his involvement with the deaths of Ethan and the stranger that attacked me. So, I spun around and snapped, "And do those things include murder?" His face was flabbergasted and he struggled to find words as I continued, "Tell me the truth," I couldn't help but bring this nagging suspicion to light, "did you have the man that attacked me and my ex-fiancé killed last month? Don't…lie to me." I looked deep into his eyes, waiting.
"Fine!" he snapped sarcastically, "I admit it. I had them killed for what they did to you." He came close and placed his hand on my cheek where my scar was. "I did it for you. And don't think I'll let Maroni's man stay safe in prison for long. He will regret what he did to you, mark my words." His intense gaze brought terror into my heart, I could feel tears fighting to escape my eyes and I struggled to keep from sobbing right in front of him. I held my breath for a moment, and my anger urged me to speak. "You promised…" I whispered. "What?" he said quietly with confusion. "You promised me!" I yelled as I swatted his hand away from me. The tears started flowing and my voice rang around the stone walls as I backed away from him, "You promised me that you wouldn't put a hand on him! He was a monster, but he should have been arrested, not murdered! And worse than that…you played with my words, didn't you! 'I won't lay a hand on him', isn't that what you said?!" He was about to speak, but I knew exactly what he was going to say, so I said it first, "But you didn't lay a hand on them did you? You had your men do it didn't you?! Was it Butch? Did he have a say in the matter, or was it an order?" My last words felt like venom when they left my mouth.
"As a matter of fact, it was an order. And I would do it again in a heartbeat!" he seemed to hiss. "You think you're better than me, don't you? You…the angel of light, and me, a demon of the dark. Well, guess what, Fee…this is Gotham! And in Gotham, the demons come out on top, and the angels have their wings clipped, if they're lucky. Everything I've done was to protect…you!" at this point he was yelling, throwing his arms around to extenuate his points. He brought his face next to my ear and whispered, "In this town, friends are few and far between. I must rule with discipline, or the city will run into chaos. If I show any sign of weakness, then these men will not hesitate to stab me in the back. I have relied on my own wits to get here, and I will not apologize for it." His last words made me shiver, not only with the subtle acidity, but also with his breath tickling my skin.
"But…Ozzie…" I pleaded as he withdrew his face, "It's one thing to work for you for wages, but Butch needs help. Please…" He limped back toward his chair, "Gabe!" he yelled as he sat down again. I heard the large man behind me, "Yeah boss?" "Please take Ms. James home, she won't be joining me for lunch, after all." I didn't hear a response, but I imagined him nodding. I didn't want to leave yet, but I could tell that Ozzie wouldn't hear another word about the subject. "Ozzie, I will go. But I hope you'll at least think about what I said." I turned to leave; but before exiting the room, I turned to face him again and concluded with, "And you're wrong. I know that you are not a demon, and I am certainly not an angel." His face looked down in contemplation, and I left before he could respond.
