Bruce's charity gala would be hosted at Wayne Manor on Sunday, September 20th. On Friday the 18th, Penelope met with Bruce, Joan, Joe Bryant, and Dr. Leslie Thompkins at Joan's apartment to discuss their plan for the gala. The four sat around Joan's dining room table, reviewing copies of the Arkham board profiles that Penelope had put together for Edward. From his seat at the head of the table, Bruce gestured to the documents in front of him and spoke. "The board members I served with have since resigned, so I can't speak much as to how these people think. From what I remember, though, any decisions regarding patient care and the general upkeep of the Asylum need to have a majority approval by the Board." He looked up from his papers and gave Penelope a nod. "Is that still the case, as far as you know?"

"Yes," she answered. She looked at the profiles herself before she spoke again, at the pictures of the people who had allowed her to experiment on Bane. She mentally reviewed their names like a checklist, taking special note of the four senior members who would be present at the gala. Robin Patton, the board chair. Christopher Valenti, the Vice-Chair. Nicole Jefferson, the board secretary. Albert Dodgson, the Treasurer, and the one Edward was personally investigating. She kept that close to the chest, for now. Each of them was, like Bruce and his society friends, a member of the upper crust. Unlike Bruce, however, she suspected that the only reason that they served on the Board at Arkham was that they couldn't get on a board anywhere else. "The Board of Directors at Arkham is a self-perpetuating board," she continued. "They elect their members, mostly from their social circle. Dodgson, in particular, has close ties with Mayor Sharp." Hence Edward zeroing in on him. "None of the current board has any medical or psychiatric training. They tended to defer to the opinions of Sharp when he was the warden. I'm certain they're repeating that pattern with Strange." The less senior members would typically defer to the leadership. If they could move these four, they could get the whole board.

Beside her, Leslie Thompkins hummed. "I assume that they have the same opinions on the patients that Sharp does?"

Penelope nodded. "Yes. Their chief goal is either to cure their patients as quickly as possible or, failing that, to contain them." They had been all too eager to approve her TITAN project, despite the obvious red flags. At the time, Penelope had been too thrilled with the potential of her formula to see the flags or to recognize the fact that the board was far too quick to sign off on a project so inherently risky.

"What's the plan?" Joe Bryant asked. "If they're that tight with Strange and Sharp, they aren't going to disagree with them about patient treatment."

Penelope narrowed her eyes. "No, they won't. We're going to need to give them an incentive to agree with us." Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Joan's expression turn worried, but she paid her no attention. She addressed Bruce. "Can you use your grant as leverage?"

If Bruce was bothered by her tone, he didn't show it. "If the board members are difficult, I'm planning to ask for an audit of how the grant money I gave them was spent. I'm sure they'd rather avoid that embarrassment."

Penelope had to let out a small smirk. Yes, the image-obsessed board would want to avoid that conversation in such a public setting. On Bruce's left, Bryant rubbed his chin. "I just had a crazy idea," he said. "But...I helped out Edward Nigma last year on that Arkham Memorial shooter case, and he made it pretty clear he hates the Mayor. You think maybe he'd help?"

Joan's eyes slightly bulged out and Penelope had to clench her hands to prevent herself from reacting. She could see that Bruce and Dr. Thompkins also had surprised reactions on their faces. "I...I'm not sure that's a good idea," Joan finally said. "Even if he would agree to help, the Mayor could spin him as having undue influence."

"I agree," Penelope forced herself to say. "We need to maintain the appearance of being objective and not risk having our motives called into question. He'd also be a distraction." It hurt her more than anyone at that table, save Joan could know to have to speak so coldly about Edward, but she needed to stay focused.

Bryant huffed. "Yeah, I guess that was a bad idea. Still," he said, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head, "You gotta admit, Nigma being reformed helps us out a lot. All the Mayor's arguments about how criminals are 'irredeemable scum' fall flat when there's a former Rogue out there helping Batman. Hell, Nigma's not even the only one. Ivy's reformed, and Harley Quinn too-"

"Harley and Ivy are not reformed," Penelope cut in, her voice razor-sharp. "Ivy was given a conditional release for helping Batman dispose of the TITAN formula on Arkham Island, and Harley Quinn-"She remembered the look of contempt, the snide words outside of Edward's apartment and she clenched her hands tighter. "She was given a sweetheart deal for turning on her 'puddin'.' She isn't in the same situation as Ed-" she remembered herself and took a quick breath. "As Nigma." She folded her hands in front of her and looked to the other members of the group. Bryant, Thompkins, and Bruce looked expectantly at her, while Joan looked concerned. "Let's move on," Penelope said. They had a lot of work to do.

As a rule, Edward thought wandering wife jobs were beneath him. An easy, reliable source of income true, but far from sufficiently intellectually stimulating. There could be bright spots, however. In many cases, access to his clients' personal information was a reward in and of itself. Especially when said client was the treasurer of the Board of Directors at Arkham Asylum.

"As promised, Mr. Dodgson, the evidence of your wife's affairs, plural," Edward announced with a flourish, putting the heavy manilla folder down on his desk. Albert Dodgson, a tall, thin man with greying hair and round glasses, eagerly devoured the contents. Edward watched him with a smirk. Yes, he'd uncovered more than enough evidence that the Treasurer was being cuckolded.

Among other things.

"That little whore," Dodgson seethed as he rifled through the compromising photographs Edward had taken of his wife and her lovers. "I knew it! Thank God I insisted on a prenup! I'll throw her out on her ass with nothing!" Dodgson looked up and gave Edward a grateful nod. "Do yourself a favor Nigma. Never get married. It's more trouble than its worth."

Edward's smirk fell a bit as he thought of a figure with ice blue eyes. "That's...exceedingly unlikely." He cleared his throat. "I believe we agreed on half up front, the other half when the job was completed?"

"Of course, of course," Dodgson said, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a check. Edward took it and smiled wider at the double-digit figure. Wife wandering jobs were lucrative indeed. "I can't tell you how grateful I am for this. And to think, Sharp thinks you're unmanageable! Wait until I tell him at the gala Sunday night!"

Edward fought hard to keep his smile from becoming vindictive. Dodgson had treated him as much as a servant as a private investigator during the case, as so many of his upper-class clients did. It was only the thought of the information that he'd uncovered and what he would do with it that kept Edward's temper at bay. Even now, he thought of the look on the man's face when he walked into GCPD and handed the information to Commissioner Gordon. Not to mention how Penelope would react. Perhaps it would even bring a smile to her face.

"You know what?" Dodgson said. "I had an idea. Why don't you come to the gala with me and tell Sharp yourself?"

Edward was startled out of his thoughts. "Come to the gala?" That had never been part of the plan. As much as he enjoyed hob-knobbing at upscale events, the idea of interacting with Mayor Sharp made his skin crawl. Then again...Commissioner Gordon would be there, as would Penelope and her little brigade. Unmasking Dodgson in front of Mayor Sharp, the other board members, and the highest of the high society snots in Gotham City? It was too tempting to resist. "Why, I'd be honored!"

Dodgson smiled. "Great! I've got a spare ticket I can give you." Dodgson looked critically at Edward's wardrobe and arched an eyebrow. "You do have something to wear that isn't green, right?"

Edward bit back the remark he wanted to make and gave him a strained smile. "I'll manage."

"Great! I'll send you the ticket when I get home. See you on Sunday, Nigma."

Edward gave his client a nod. "I'll see you then." When the man left the office, Edward let out a vindictive laugh. "Moron."

Ellen took a look at the suits on display at the custom shop Edward had dragged her to and let out a whistle. "Geez. These tuxes are more expensive than the car battery Gramma got last week! This isn't gonna set you back too much, is it, Dad?"

Edward shook his head and gave his daughter an indulgent smile. "I'll be keeping the receipt for this and deducting it once tax season comes around, so I'll get the money back for it. And frankly, I'm not sure what that says about your grandmother's mechanic." Edward walked up to the front desk of the shop, Ellen trailing behind him. It was an unassuming clothing shop and haberdashery tucked away in Gotham's Eastside. Edward had been coming here for years to get his suits and hats custom made, and the owner was waiting for him at the desk with a smile. "Afternoon, Anton. How are things?"

Anton was an older gentleman with silver hair, dark eyes, and a sense of style that Edward almost envied at times. "Hello again, Eduardo. Long time no see." He saw Ellen and gave her a friendly wave. "And who is this little lady?"

"May I present my daughter, Miss Ellen Dixon." He let the two exchange pleasantries before he got down to business. "I know it's a bit last minute, but I need a suit for a gala I've been invited to on Sunday."

"Say no more. Let's take you to the back and get your measurements. Will your little girl need anything as well?"

Edward looked over his shoulder at Ellen. "If you were serious about wearing a suit for your prom, go ahead and take a look while I'm in the back. Anton made a few suits for Nina and Deirdre back in the day."

Ellen's face lit up. "Awesome!" She made a beeline for the smaller suits at the front of the shop, much to Edward's amusement. He then followed Anton to the fitting rooms located behind the register.

"I take it you won't be wearing green," Anton said.

"I've been advised against it, unfortunately," Edward quipped. "Though a green tie won't go amiss."

Anton nodded and picked up a tape measurer from an adjacent stool. "Alright then. Let's get your measurements." Edward held out his arms to accommodate the older man. "You haven't grown an inch sideways since I've seen you last. Good! Let me go grab a few suits for you to try."

Twenty minutes later, Edward lowered his glasses to appraise himself in the mirror. "Anton, you've outdone yourself as always." He'd chosen a black three-piece suit, with an emerald green tie providing a splash of color against the white dress shirt. He did a quick turn, delighting in how perfectly fit the suit was.

"Do you think you'll need any alterations?" Anton asked.

"None," Edward said in delight. "I'll take it."

"Excellent! Would you like another pair of cufflinks as well?"

"No," Edward said, taking a quick look at the simple Gold studs Penelope had gotten for him for his birthday. They'd become the only ones he would wear. "Thank you. Do you mind if I go show Ellen?"

"Not at all," Anton said with a sweep of his hand.

Edward walked back out into the shop, finding Ellen looking at the hats on display in the windows. "Well?" he asked. "What do you think?"

Ellen turned at the sound of his voice and her grin almost split her face. "Nice!" Then her face grew mischievous. " I'm sure Doc'll love it!"

Edward ignored the flush that crept up his neck. "Ellen!"

The suit bought and paid for, Edward loaded it and Ellen back into his car and began the drive back to his apartment. No sooner were they down the block did Ellen begin asking questions. "The Mayor's gonna be at this fancy gala thing, right? Are you gonna talk to him?"

"I don't want to, believe me, but it may be unavoidable." He looked out the corner of his eye and saw his daughter had a dark look on her face. No doubt she blamed the mayor for what had happened in August.

"He better not try anything," she growled. "I don't care if he's the Mayor, he sics anyone on you again, I'll beat his ass!"

"You stop that," Edward scolded. "I'm not explaining to your grandmother why you need to be bailed out of jail." Ellen huffed and folded her arms across her chest. "Don't worry," he said in a gentler tone. "If Sharp's stupid enough to try something at the gala, he's only going to make himself look like a fool in front of Gotham's elite. That would be bad publicity for his initiatives."

Ellen seemed to consider this. "That's why you're going to this thing, isn't it? To try to psyche him out?"

"Partially," Edward admitted, stopping at a red light. "Sharp, or more accurately, Strange run on the platform that people like me are inherently dangerous and irredeemable, that there need to be strict protocols in place to keep us 'in line'. The fact that I'll be rubbing elbows with his chief base of support without incident will do more damage to him than any campaign ad could." He chuckled. "And besides, he needs to witness the fall of one of his chief allies for himself."

Ellen smiled then. "Yeah. I hope you rub his face in it, too."

Edward laughed again and put his foot on the gas when the light turned green. "That I will, I promise you that. I'll also see if I can sneak some hors d'oeuvre for you. How's that?"

"Get me some desserts and you got a deal, Old Man."

"Done." Edward's mind wandered to the gala in two nights. It would be the first time since the Memorial last year that he and Sharp met face to face. His grip tightened slightly on the steering wheel. What a fascinating evening it would be.

At Wayne Manor, Bruce held a meeting of his own. He, Leslie, Damian, Tim, and Cassandra sat around the dining room table reviewing their plans for Sunday night, while Alfred stood at his side. At the moment, Bruce needed an opinion from Leslie. "What did you think of Dr. Young at the meeting today?"

Bruce watched as Leslie considered her words carefully. "She seems driven to reform Arkham Asylum. Ruthless even. I believe she's genuine in wanting to change it for the better though." Leslie took a sip of tea and her brow creased in thought. "I couldn't help but notice, however, how tense she got when Edward Nigma was brought up. She's already working with him, isn't she?"

"Yes," Bruce answered. "She has for a year now. I wouldn't be at all surprised if he's been looking into the board's weaknesses for her."

Leslie took a breath, then steepled her hands. "Why? Is this another situation like Harley Quinn? Do we need to be worried that he's using her to strike back at Gotham?"

"I don't think so," Bruce said. He sighed. "While I think he is partly motivated by revenge against Sharp and Strange, I think that he's also been helping her because he's in love with her."

Bruce heard Damian make a disgusted noise, while Leslie's eyes widened in shock and Tim shook his head. Only Cassandra showed no reaction. Leslie sighed. "Judging by her behavior today, I'm guessing it's requited. I don't think I need to tell you how potentially volatile this situation is though. If it got out that they're romantically involved, it would impact her credibility."

"I know," Bruce said. "As far as I know, they aren't." Not yet at any least. "I'll keep an eye on it. In the meantime, we should go over our plan for the gala."

Damian rolled his eyes. "I don't see why I need to be at this, father. You know I find these events tedious."

"I know," Bruce drawled. "You've said so repeatedly. With Dick in Bludhaven though, I need as many eyes and ears as I can get Sunday night."

Damian huffed but said nothing else. Tim leaned forward in his seat. "I've got the listening devices and hidden cameras set up in the main ground floors of the manor. The second story will be blocked off, as will the study."

"Good," Bruce nodded. He turned his attention to Cassandra. "Cass, I need you to shadow the Mayor and his handlers when they arrive. I want them to be kept as far away from the Board members as possible until my group has a chance to speak with them." Cassandra nodded, ad Bruce turned to Leslie. "When the Board members get here, Dr. Leland and Dr. Young will lead off with their concerns regarding patient care, then I'll step in about my grant. You and Joe Bryant can join in to help keep the pressure on the board."

"After we're done with the Board, I have a few questions of my own for Mayor Sharp regarding his 'beautification' program," Leslie added, her gaze darkening. "How can he claim that his programs help reduce crime in this city when they're pushing an already vulnerable population to the brink?"

That was a good question. "I'll want to sit in on that conversation." Bruce turned his attention back to Tim. "Did you get a chance to start the audit?"

"I finished it, actually," Tim said with a crooked smile. His face grew serious. "It's just like you thought. Most of your grant money did go towards renovating The Medical Wing and a few amenities, but another large chunk went towards Strange's research. What exactly it entails, I haven't been able to figure out. Yet. Also, there's $250k unaccounted for."

Bruce's eyes narrowed. "Have you checked the Board treasurer's account?"

"Accounts, plural. And yeah, I have. I found the money, what's left of it after Dodgson and his wife got to it." Tim drummed his fingers on the table. "I also found two checks Dodgson wrote out to Edward Nigma this week. I'm assuming he's a recent client."

A client? More likely a target. So that was Edward and Dr. Young's strategy. He was using his position to uncover incriminating information about the Board members and take them out, one by one. "Oh dear," Bruce heard Alfred mutter. "Shall we inform Commissioner Gordon of Mr. Dodgson's malfeasance, or should we assume Mr. Nigma already has?"

"No he hasn't," Bruce murmured, folding his hands. "I know him. He'll want to expose Dodgson in a much more public way."

Tim sat straight up. "Nigma's coming to the gala."

Bruce nodded. "I'd bet on it."

"Tt!" Damian spat out. "If he does, I'll toss him out myself!"

"No," Bruce said firmly. "If Nigma comes, keep an eye on him, but don't accost him. Keep him away from the study. Make sure he doesn't get into a scene with Mayor Sharp."

"And if he tries to expose Dodgson?" Tim asked.

Bruce took a long moment to consider this. Edward's showboating often did as much harm as good. It could potentially turn volatile, but public exposure of Dodgson's crime would sway the board and damage Sharp's credibility. At the very least, it would raise serious questions about how Arkham was run, questions that the Mayor couldn't sweep under the rug. He remembered what Selina and Dr. Young had said. Maybe, it was time to give Edward a little leeway. Finally, he spoke. "Let him do it."

Sunday, September 20th.

Edward stood in his bathroom, taking one last appraising look at himself in the mirror. He was wearing the three-piece suit that still fit him perfectly. He took a critical look at his auburn hair, slicked back with not a strand out of place. He had decided to forego his glasses for the evening, instead, he counted on the lights in Wayne Manor being dim enough to avoid aggravating him. He took one last look at himself in the mirror and smirked. He'd been an awkward-looking child, but there was nothing like a well-tailored suit to show the world what a good-looking man he'd grown up to be. He adjusted his cufflinks one last time before checking his watch. 5:45 pm. The gala started at 6:30, and it would take him about forty-five minutes to make the drive to Wayne Manor, providing traffic was cooperative. Well, even if it wasn't, nothing like being fashionably late. Edward stepped out of the bathroom and walked down the hall towards his front door. "Well," he said to himself as he opened the door. "Off to the lion's den." Time to give Dodgson, Sharp, Wayne, and their hoity-toity friends a night they would never forget.