Gotham's Discontent
Chapter Twelve: A Politician's Arrangement
His voice was a low drawl of soothing intention, and it circled her as she sat down in what felt—and smelled—like a table set for dinner time. She remained blindfolded, feeling stiff during the drive to Galvan's mansion; and she didn't relax even though the man hadn't touched her or raised his voice, nor did she hear anything threatening come from his mouth. He spoke as if delivering good tidings, as if they were long, old friends.
"Good evening, Deedee. That's the name you want to go by, isn't it? I've been warned understandably for using the name your parents gave you. A sensitive subject, no doubt. My apologies for the blind fold, I like to be discreet."
"You don't plan on fucking me, do you?" Deedee replied coldly, unsure of how to register him without seeing him. His voice had the edge of a hard-playing politician, but his words were of a reasonable gentleman. She had seen both parties in her audience while performing on stage in Haley's Circus, and neither had acted as professional as they claimed.
He laughed good-heartedly, as if she had delivered a clever joke.
"Tabitha, would you?" he said, as he was clearly speaking to whomever was in the room with him.
Deedee froze when gentle fingers lifted the blindfold from her eyes. She was met face-to-face with a very pretty, dark-skinned woman—as pretty as they come—Deedee couldn't see a single flaw in her face. The woman named Tabitha gave a smile which broke through her cheeks like a Cheshire cat, met with even, white teeth.
So pretty.
Deedee turned her gaze toward the only man in the room. All right, Deedee thought, so he's a blend of politician and gentleman. He was dressed in a tie, button-up long sleeve shirt, dark pants, and shiny shoes. With another glance at the woman named Tabitha, a bit staggered by the smile on her pretty face, Deedee cleared her throat and looked up at Galavan from the dinner table.
He had presented a meal before her as if she were the guest he had been waiting on. Galavan's hands were pushed into his pockets comfortably with no fear of being threatened.
"Deedee," he said, "My name is Theo. I hope my men treated you all right."
"Uh-huh," said Deedee. "Can't really ask much, can you, from a couple of thugs?"
Galavan gave a small smile. "I suppose you're curious as to why I brought you here."
"Suppose we ought to start there," said Deedee.
Galavan gave her a look, though she wasn't sure exactly what he was thinking. Deedee glanced at Tabitha, who wore an amused expression on her face. Deedee only had one impression from the two of them: Galavan must have been the brains of the outfit; Tabitha was the femme fatale. Compared to her, Deedee felt a sudden pang of insecurity in her stomach, aware that her hair was a mess, her feet were dirty on the clean floor, and her black and white state-issued prison dress was ripped and unkempt—
"Deedee," said Tabitha, "My brother—"
"Your brother?" Deedee said suddenly, staring at the two of them. "You're siblings?"
Galavan grinned and sat down at the dinner table in front of her. "Yes. Speaking of siblings, I understand that Dr. Strange had left you wanting; he didn't let you say goodbye to Jerome. You should know that you won't have to wait long until you see him again. The bond that you two have is admirable, though of course, Tabby and I aren't that close." He gave another chuckle.
"I'm glad you find it entertaining," Deedee heard the sarcastic note in her voice. "When can I see him again?"
"Well, you aren't going to be visiting him at Arkham. He'll come to you." Galavan said. "In the mean time—"
"When?" Deedee said. "If you're breaking him out of Arkham—"
"What makes you think that I would commit that sort of crime?" Galavan asked curiously.
"Uh, hello." Deedee indicated herself and the mansion. "You had a whacky doctor sign my certificate of sanity even though he knows I'm—"
"A sociopath?" Galavan said.
"Dangerous," Deedee corrected him. "I'm not crazy. I'm free."
Tabitha said, "I imagine you have to say that quite a lot, don't you?"
Deedee felt patronized. "I'm starting to think no one is taking me seriously. I killed a prison guard in Arkham, I—"
"Easy, easy now," Galavan waved a hand at her when she began to rise out of her seat. Deedee felt her face flush. "I brought you here because you feel that way. Dr. Strange even gave me his own opinion about you; and I don't agree with him. There's a real killer in you—"
"A real killer?" Deedee said, and she stared at him in disbelief. "I shoved a baton down a pervert's throat. What do you mean a real killer—?"
"Sweetie…" Tabitha began. Deedee turned to her when she heard the soft pitch in her voice. "We're not trying to cut you down. We want to build you up. My brother and I know that there is potential in you, an investment as Theo would call it. You didn't get the chance to show just how dangerous you really are. You helped Jerome kill your mother and then you were sent to Arkham. That's a crime in itself."
"A waste." Galavan agreed.
Deedee stared. She gave a small chuckle with realization, "Hold on. What exactly do you want from me?"
Galavan indicated the table between them. "I know you're probably tired of eating that gruel that they call 'food' in Arkham. I took the time to do some catering. You can start eating whenever you want; there's a bottle of wine there if you'd fancy a drink. Are you 21?"
Deedee snorted through her nose. He wants me to start killing people and he's worried about my age?
"I'm 19."
"Eh, close enough." Galavan said dismissively. "So that makes you the eldest Valeska, doesn't it? Lots of responsibility falls to the eldest. I imagine that must have been—"
"No," said Deedee seriously, frowning. "Nope. I'm not talking about that."
"Still stings," Tabitha said to Galavan with a small nod. "Sensitive subject."
"Pretty damn sensitive," Deedee breathed, and she felt her upper lip twitch.
Galavan nodded, "My apologies."
Deedee stared at him. "Mr. Galavan—"
"Theo."
"Theo," Deedee said, "What exactly am I doing here? You look like a politician; you act like a politician." A pause. And then casually, "Are you trying to take over Gotham?"
"Straight shooter, huh?" Galavan gave an amused laugh. "Deedee, I want you to periodically"—he also gave the sense that her new freedom wasn't going to be exactly unrestricted— "go out into the streets of Gotham, do whatever makes your heart beat like a drum, and then come back to my place where you'll be fed, sleep in a soft bed, and await further instructions." He held out his hands in finality. "That is what I want from you."
Tabitha leaned forward, "We want you to prove Strange wrong."
"So, you do want me to go murdering people." Deedee said with a wide grin, a strong family resemblance.
"When the time comes, I know that you can be persuasive," said Galavan. "You have a connection with some outlaws and notorious criminals inside Gotham. I'd like you to use your relationships to win their hearts to join my team."
"The team for what?"
"A reckoning," said Galavan; and for the first time since Deedee met him, she saw a sinister smirk. There he is. "A beautiful reckoning."
He poured himself a glass of wine and sipped from it.
"Think of this place as your home," he said. "Tabitha and I will be around; of course, I have business meetings to attend to, and I won't be here all the time."
"Suppose I escape?" Deedee asked curiously. "What makes you think that I wouldn't try?"
"The only place you have to go is Haley's Circus," said Galavan confidently. "And they're out of town. Nomads. Though, considering your current reputation, I doubt that they'd want a felon to be part of their act. Don't they try to keep things inside the tent?"
"They try," said Deedee bitterly. "Unless, of course, a deadbeat dad interferes and throws his daughter under the bus to save his son. Nope," she said quickly, holding a hand up when Galavan opened his mouth, "Still not talking about it."
Galavan nodded. "As we are not talking about it, I would ask of you to not go after your father."
"Oh, come on." Deedee complained, "That's who popped in my head!"
"Mr. Cicero is part of my plan, and I would ask you from the bottom of my heart to not harm him…yet."
Deedee uttered a mildly frustrated groan, however consented. "Fine. Anyone else?"
"Detective Gordon," said Galavan.
"Seriously?" Deedee said, her eyes widening. "I ain't going after a cop."
"You? No," said Galavan. "But he is also part of my plan and I do not want him harmed."
"Laura Greenburg." Deedee listed off hopefully.
"Who?" Galavan remarked.
Deedee smirked, "So you don't know who that is. So, I can kill her?"
"That officer's daughter," Tabitha reminded her brother with an impish grin. "The pervert with the baton down his throat."
"Yeah, I have an axe to grind with her," said Deedee darkly.
Galavan shrugged. "I don't know her, and she's not important to my endeavors, so, yes. I suppose that should be your next move. What do you think, Tabby? Sound good to you?"
"Come on, brother," Tabitha drawled with delicious intent. "It's what I live for. Female empowerment and all."
Galavan nodded as if they came to a business deal. "Remember, my dear," he said to Deedee. "You will seek out Laura Greenburg, find her, kill her in any way you deem necessary to sate your blood lust, then you will come back. When you return, feel free to take a shower, sleep, whatever: as long as you remain inside the house. Clear?"
"Crystal." Deedee said.
"Good girl."