BATMAN: GOTHAM CAMPAIGN OF CRIME

By Bruce Wayne

Batman created by Bob Kane and Bill Finger

DISCLAIMER: Most of the characters portrayed in this story are copyright by DC Comics, an AOL/Time/Warner company. They are used without permission for entertainment without profit by the author.

CHAPTER 9

Edmond Hamilton sat behind his desk in city hall, staring in disgust at the sheet of paper in his hand, the results of the latest poll. Three lines were drawn on a graph, showing the up-to-the-minute status of each of the three primary hopefuls in the upcoming election. Dan Foster was in the lead with a healthy fifty-eight percent of the people polled, followed by the incumbent Hamilton with nineteen percent and the other candidate with fifteen percent. The rest were undecided.

"Did you see this, Gordon?!" the mayor asked his police commissioner who had stopped by for his weekly meeting.

Jim Gordon walked across the desk-lined room, looking at two large posters standing up against a table. "Yes, I did, Mister Mayor."

Hamilton flipped the single sheet of paper across his desk to Gordon. "Do they call this thing a poll, Gordon?" he demanded.

Gordon had seen the figures earlier in the day in the newspaper and knew his boss would react just as he was now. "The numbers don't lie, sir."

"No, but maybe that blasted pollster that was used does!"

"Brubaker, McDaniel and Associates is the best there is, Mister Mayor. They've predicted nine out of the last ten elections in Gotham City to within one percent of the actual vote."

Hamilton clamped his teeth around a cigar, scowling.

Gordon pointed to the posters that he saw. "What've you got here?" he asked.

"The art department just sent these up," the mayor said as he picked them up and propped them up before another desk as he considered them. Both bore the slogan: "It Shouldn't Cost An Arm And A Leg To Live In The City That Heads The Nation. Vote Hamilton For Mayor."

"Catchy slogan," Gordon lied.

One showed a close-up of Hamilton, smiling his toothy, shark-faced smile into the camera. The other, a more realistic view of the man, bore a photograph of him staring out of the poster with his usual sour-faced scowl.

The mayor's young election assistant came into the office and saw that Hamilton was studying the two posters.

"I think we'd better get these out on the streets as soon as possible," Walters said. "Which one do you like, sir?"

Hamilton pushed the cigar around in his mouth for several seconds as he continued to stare at the posters. Finally, he pointed to the one bearing his smiling face. "That's the one, Walters," he declared. "I think it shows a man concerned with the business of running a city, but not so much that he ignores the voters. The suckers will eat it up!"

"You're the boss, Mister Mayor." Walters said.

Commissioner Gordon stood there knowing that Hamilton's chances of winning were nonexistent, especially against a man of Dan Foster's caliber.

^^V^^ ^^V^^ ^^V^^

The coin was the ultimate arbitrator.

The two-headed silver one dollar piece was scarred on one side as Harvey Dent examined it in his hand. Sitting in his Lower East Side hideout, the master criminal known as Two-Face felt he was truly where he belonged. It was the coin that decided who lived and who died. Whether a crime was committed or it wasn't. He liked the smooth, cool feel of it, the almost starlight luster it possessed. He always had the coin in his possession. He had stolen and even murdered to gain more of whatever he already had.

Indeed, Harvey Dent wanted more. He was no longer satisfied with controlling just a piece of Gotham City. He now wanted it all. One of the things that stood in his way was a little man called the Penguin.

Caressing the coin in his hand, he liked the feeling of tranquility it gave him as he sat behind his two-tone colored desk. The coin brought a sense of ease to his mind, allowing his thoughts to fall into the proper, logical sequences and his plans to take form. For, of all the places in the large hideout, this was the one room that was truly his, and none were allowed to enter unbidden.

The last man who tried had died by Two-Face's own hand.

But the crime boss' thoughts were not on that now. Rather, he contemplated the growing division between himself and his rival, the Penguin. The fat man could not be overthrown by force -- of that Dent was certain. He was far too powerful in Gotham City and had too many supporters in the criminal community. If Two-Face wished to usurp the other's throne, it must be through guile. And ensuring the failure of the Penguin's current plans was by far the simplest route.

The red-and-black telephone on the desk buzzed softly for several moments before the hideously scarred criminal heard it. "Yes," he answered tersely.

"There's a guy here to see you, boss."

"We're busy. Send him away."

"It's Dan Foster, Two-Face. Says he's got to talk with you."

"Foster?"

How the devil did the veteran newsman ever find him? And what could he want from Two-Face? No matter, the crime boss thought as an evil smile spread across the unscarred side of his hellish features, it merely saves us the trouble of bringing him to us!

"Send him in," Dent replaced the receiver in the cradle. He assumed a pose of calm indifference behind his desk, staring over steepled fingertips at the door as it opened, and Dan Foster hesitantly entered.

The candidate walked toward the desk, his hand outstretched in greeting. "Dent" -- he smiled in his best television smile -- "I'm ..."

"We know who you are."

Foster nodded as he lowered his hand uncertainly to his side. "Yes, you would, wouldn't you?" He looked about the den, waiting to be offered a seat, but, when he saw no such offer was forthcoming, he continued quickly. "You're not an easy man to locate, Dent."

"We should be impossible to find, Foster."

"You very nearly were, but luckily I still have a few underworld contacts left from my days as a newsman." He laughed nervously. "Hard to believe that was only two weeks ago ..."

"We assume," Two-Face said quietly, "that you didn't come here to discuss your life story, Foster."

"In a way, I did. Only it's not the past so much as the future that worries me."

"Your future's been all neatly mapped out for you. You're going to be Gotham City's next mayor."

"You mean puppet, don't you, Dent? With the Penguin pulling the strings!"

Two-Face said nothing. Dan Foster had come to him. It was still his move.

Foster leaned across the desk, resting his hands on the surface. He appeared not to notice Harvey Dent's slight flicker of distaste at this move. "Look, Dent," he said earnestly, "it's no secret that you and the Penguin are the two biggest rivals for control of Gotham City's organized-crime families. Hell, man, he hates you. You hate him as much, if not more. And frankly, I doubt that he's planning anything but killing you at the first chance he gets." He paused, looking for a reaction from the disfigured-faced man.

"Go on," Two-Face said, his voice betraying nothing.

"Normally, I couldn't give a damn if you both killed each other. Neither of you means anything to me." Foster's voice turned hard with suppressed anger. "But the Penguin took my daughter away from me, Dent. He's involved my little girl in things that she neither knows nor understands, and he's threatened the lives of the rest of my family. Yes, very suddenly, he's become a threat to me and my family. And maybe there's nothing I can personally do to him to make certain he can never carry out his threats. But you can, Two-Face!"

The master criminal was interested in the candidate's words, for Dan Foster, he knew, was leading up to the very thing Two-Face had planned. But let Foster think it was his idea. "Penguin and I are allies in this, you know," he said impassively. "He's the one with the hold over you, not us."

"That could change."

"How? You don't dare step out of line while Penguin has your daughter as a hostage."

"What if he no longer had her? I wouldn't be beholden to him then, would I?"

Two-Face waved this aside. "Pure speculation, Foster. The Penguin does have your daughter, and only he knows where she's being held."

"You could kidnap her away from him, bring her back to me!"

For the first time since Foster had entered his office, Two-Face displayed some emotion. He laughed heartily. "What do you expect us to do, Foster? Pull her out of a top hat like a rabbit? We told you, only the Penguin knows where she is, and that's the one aspect of this operation you can be sure he's not going to tell anybody about, especially us."

Foster looked into the criminal's one good eye, his own steel-gray eyes flashing. "He's got her somewhere in the city," he said.

"We suppose he's told you, eh?"

"No. But I'm just sure he must be holding her close by."

"So?" Let's even assume you're right, we'd say that certainly narrows it down then, Foster," Two-Face replied in a dry voice. "We assume that since you're going to be it's next mayor that you know Gotham's a fairly huge city. Where do you propose we start looking for her? At the Dixon Docks and work our way up?"

"Don't tell me a man with your resources can't find one girl, Dent! I don't believe it!"

"All right, Foster." Two-Face nodded. "Suppose we could find your daughter and get her away from Penguin. Then what? He would've lost his hold on you and so would we, if we returned her to you as you ask. As far as we can tell, you're the only one who wins in that situation."

"You'd win, Two-Face. If you could get my daughter back to me, I'd owe you an awful lot. And I'd deliver the whole damned city right into your hands the minute I'm inaugurated!"

Two-Face stroked his chin thoughtfully. What was Foster up to? Was he sincere, or was this merely a ploy to play the two criminal leaders against one another in the very definite hope that they would destroy each other, thereby freeing the candidate from any obligation to either man? Harvey Dent decided it was most probably the latter. But could he afford to pass up this chance to have Foster under his control?

The master criminal picked up his infamous coin and showed it to Foster. "You know what this is?"

"It looks like an old, large coin to me," came the answer.

"Ah, but it's not just any ordinary coin. This coin is going to decide your fate, Foster." Two-Face gave Foster a closer look of the coin. "This is the good side. If it wins when we flip it, we will help get your daughter back." He turned the coin over. "If the scarred side comes up, it's adios, amigo!" He laughed.

Two-Face then flipped the coin high into the air. It spun and dropped into Harvey Dent's hand.

The crime boss looked at the coin and announced, "Very well, Foster," he said at length. "We'll find your daughter for you."

The look of relief was visible on Dan Foster's face. "Y-you will, Two-Face?"

"The coin has decided," he replied coolly.

"Thank you," Foster said quickly. "T-these past weeks have been hell for my wife and me. I can't believe that it'll be over so soon."

Two-Face rose from his seat, signaling the end of the conversation. "We'll be in touch, Foster."

Dan Foster hurried to the door, his heart pounding like a jackhammer in his chest. He found it even harder to believe, but he had done it! He had actually managed to snow Two-Face!

Of course, compared to Penguin, Two-Face was a street-corner punk, and Foster knew he could handle him. Hadn't he just proved that by convincing the other to go along with his plan? Harvey Dent would undoubtedly have to kill Penguin to get Amy Foster away from him, but that was all right. Two-Face would not hesitate to slay the Penguin, and the fat, little man deserved no better. Afterward, when Amy was safely back home, the authorities could take care of matters from there. In all likelihood, Two-Face would wind up as dead as the Penguin before this was over, but that fact did not bother Foster, either, as long as the horrible-looking man remained oblivious to it until it was too late.

Unfortunately, Two-Face was not as stupid as Dan Foster thought.

To be continued ...

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