Chapter 90

In the GCPD archives, I sit down at the archival computer, typing at the heavy keys and searching up Marsha's name.

"Uhm...Natalie, right? Mr. Nygma's friend?"

I turn around to find Kristen Kringle, clutching a clipboard.

"Yes, hello Ms. Kringle. Or do you prefer Kristen?" I ask.

"Kristen. Only Mr. Nygma calls me Ms. Kringle," she explains, "are you working on a case?"

I nod, "Mhm...Marsha, Queen of Diamonds is back to her old tricks again, and since I wasn't alive when she was active, I thought I'd look up her profile. But I can't seem to find it-"

"Oh, that's because not everything has made it to the digital archive yet. Yeah, the IT guys have been pretty slow about that. Here, I could help you find it," she offers.

"Thank you Kristen. And maybe Ed could help the IT guys with the archive, he's very good with computers-"

"No, trust me, he's already offered his help, and they don't want it," she interrupts.

I raise an eyebrow, "Decline Ed's help? Why?"

"He wanted to overhaul the entire system altogether. Obviously the IT guys didn't want all of their work wasted, so they told him to buzz off."

I follow Kristen through the archive room, as she opens up one of the filing cabinets, "Okay...there should be a file on Marsha right...here!"

She pulls out a moderately filled folder and hands it to me, "Hope that helps."

"Thanks Kristen," I repeat.

"Don't mention it. Just...maybe you could help keep Mr. Nygma off of my back? He sometimes makes very...unappreciated advances."

I press my fingers against my cheek, "Uhm, sure, of course."

She smiles, "Thanks. Oh, and by the way, I'm definitely rooting for you two."

Kristen walks off, leaving me standing with the folder. My slightly confused smile turns into a downtrodden frown. If she's rooting for us, she best hold her breath.

"So, I was wondering if you knew anything about high society dinners. Carmine wants me to help with a gathering he's having tomorrow night," Liza explains, as she sets cloth napkins and silverware around a long mahogany table in Falcone's dining room.

I slowly nod my head, I've hung around Barbara and Veronica enough to at least give her some pointers, "Well, first off, they call it supper, not dinner. They like their gatherings very specific, from the looks of the silverware, he's going for a Victorian styled three course meal."

Liza places down the last set of silverware, "Yeah, he mentioned something about a Victorian...I thought he meant the house. What does a Victorian dinner look like?"

"I'm not entirely sure. But he must have a book on it, let's check the kitchen."

Liza follows me to the kitchen, "I was thinking I could make something with all the eggs we've been getting from Carmine's chickens. He's very fond of them, but at the same time, I now have two dozen eggs and almost nothing to do with them."

We stop right at the doorway when we notice Don Falcone at the breakfast bar, entertaining company.

"Marsha, it's so wonderful to see you again. I'm glad you've decided to return. It's about time," he smiles at the woman in her signature pink cashmere suit.

"Oh, Carmine, you always knew how to treat a lady," she laughs, placing a gloved hand on his.

Oh no, Marsha, Queen of Diamonds saw me at Bamonte's with Oswald and Don Maroni! If she were to see me now-

Before I can duck out of the way, Falcone and Marsha turn around and notice Liza and I in the doorway, "Ah, Liza, Trixie, please, come in."

We slowly step into the kitchen, I'm practically hiding behind Liza, but even though I'm almost a foot shorter than her, there's no way I can escape the rather surprised eyes of Marsha.

"Marsha, this is Liza, my housemaid, and her friend, Trixie. The two of them will be helping with tomorrow night's party."

Liza nods her head and smiles, "It nice to meet you, Ms…?"

"Oh no, it's just Marsha. I prefer my first name over all else," she waves off, a pristine smile plastered on her face.

"Well, Liza will be organizing our little 'welcome back' supper, it's her job to make sure that everything's to your liking," Falcone explains, his hands clasped.

"Really? Well, I like white meat, any kind of bird will do. Also, for the cheese platter, make sure it includes some Winnimere, my personal favorite. I will drink no wine that's not at least half as old as my sainted mother and-..." she stops, and gives Liza a once-over, "I know you're wearing that dress for Carmine, but please, something a little more tasteful for the party, okay?"

Liza nods her head, her movements almost automatic, "Al-alright."

Marsha turns around and walks out of the kitchen, and into the hall, "Come Carmine! We have much to discuss."

Don Falcone nods and smiles at Liza, before following Marsha out of the room. The moment they're out, we both release a sigh, leaning against the breakfast bar. For whatever reason, Marsha chose to spare me, for now. But perhaps she's like Oswald, simply waiting for the right moment to spill my secret.

Liza groans, slamming her hands on the white marble countertop, "God...how am I going to pull this off? I already ordered steak for the dinner, there's no way I could find a wine that old in a day...what the hell is Winnimere anyway?"

"It's a type of cheese, if we leave for the market now we might be able to find some. I have a society friend with a wine cellar, she might have something, as for the steak...put it in the icebox for another day," I tell her.

"But...how are we going to get white meat?" she asks, her voice timid.

I glance out the kitchen door at Don Falcone's chicken coop, sitting partway between the house and the gardens, "...how fond is Falcone of his chickens again?"

On the stairway to my apartment, the sound of high heels clacks against the aging wood echoes from just above. Creening my head to the side, I catch a glimpse of a pink cashmere suit. Marsha, Queen of Diamonds? What's she doing here?

I was just planning on making a quick stop to change into my Sydney disguise before heading out to meet Zsasz. Guess I might be a little late.

Keeping my feet light, I follow Marsha up the stairs. She stops just a floor below mine, at the Cobblepot's apartment. What does she want with them?

She knocks on her the door, but no one answers, guess Mrs. Cobblepot's out. That's probably for the best, at least for her.

Marsha gets out an old, rusty bronze key. It snaps into the lock immediately, and she opens the door to his apartment. Making sure one of my knives is hidden under my pencil skirt, I follow her into the apartment.

"You know, if there's one lasting stamp I'll leave on this city, it's the building deal I organized with Mayor Wilson Klass during his term. Hundreds of low-cost apartment buildings, all built in the same style, by one company, in three years time," she muses, her back turned to me.

"All of these cheap, identical apartments, it's very convenient, don't you think? Especially so when you have…" she turns around, holding up her bronze rusty key, "the master key."

My eyes widen, although I'm not sure why I should be so surprised, that she caught me trailing her to Oswald's apartment or that she has a master key to half of the apartments in Gotham.

"But you, you have quite the setup for yourself, don't you? A place at both Maroni and Falcone's table. Sure the roles may be small, inconsequential even. But those are the best parts, those are the ones they never see coming."

Marsha sits down in Mrs. Cobblepot's living room chair, examining the china tea set on the table, "You ever wonder how such a...poor family came by such an elegant tea set?" She glances around the apartment, and points to the various paintings on the walls, "How much do you think that oil painting is worth?"

I shrug, "I'd always assumed it was some cheap knockoff, the kind you'd find at the Flea. But now that you mention it, whoever furnished this place had a strange sense of style."

"No, no, no, that's the problem with you street kids, no eye for detail," she tsks, before standing.

Marsha walks over to Mrs. Cobblepot's end table, consisting of dozens of framed pictures, most of them of Oswald. She picks out one in particular, a family photo faded almost completely from years of age. Even though the picture gives only the thinnest outlines of the people in the photo, she smiles immediately.

"Ah...there you are Theodore. So there is a connection."

I raise an eyebrow, "...Theodore?"

She whips around, her expression no nonsense, "What? Don't tell me you didn't know. You mean to tell me you shacked up with that wannabe Carnegie on his charms alone? Ha...I overestimated you."

There's something different about her mannerisms now. She's much more...frank, and concise. Gone is the elegant, flamboyant way of speaking she employed around Don Falcone and Don Maroni. Nevertheless, there's still an air of danger to this woman, I need to be careful.

"Hmph, well, while the name 'Penguin' means nothing to me, the name Cobblepot does. It was well before your time but Theodore Cobblepot was Gotham City's longest running mayor. He was also Gotham's top mob boss, although back then we didn't call them that. I'm not sure anyone remembers him now...but I do," she sighs, putting down the picture.

"I'm not sure if he's a direct descendent, or if he's a descendent of Theodore's...extended family back in Europe. Although I'll bet he and his yenta mother came here thinking they'd find the Cobblepot family still in power...no such luck, I made sure of that."

"I'm sorry, but, why are you telling me all this?" I ask, keeping my distance from her.

Marsha chuckles, "Of course, you wouldn't want to hear the ramblings of an old woman like me. What I mean to say is...you remind me a lot of myself. The crime world needs women like us, those who aren't afraid to work both sides, pitting them against each other before snatching their power from right out of their grasp."

That actually sounds a lot like Oswald, I never considered myself similar to him in that fashion, but now that I think about it, I guess we are similar in that sense.

"You have potential child, both you and your cohort. But all the same, stay out of my way. We'll be out of each other's hair soon enough."

Marsha walks out the door, leaving me in the Cobblepot's apartment. Well, that was strange. I feel like I should be surprised at Oswald's family ties to an old mob branch, but considering his behavior, I'm not shocked in the least.

I glance around, I need to meet Zsasz in a couple of hours, but, while I'm here, I might as well take back all of my stolen clothes. Where would Oswald hide them…?

Author's Note:

Erik-is-my-angel1234: Thanks, using Marsha was definitely a risk, but I'm glad you like her

davinaxo: I know there's a lot of people who want to see Natalie and Ed together, and there might be something small coming down for them in the pipeline soon ;)

sky-fei: No problem, and yeah, 25th Annual is so much fun, hope you have fun with the show! :)

Guest: Thanks, and I'm glad you like Pixie (their ship name, I love it to bits). But OswaldxNataliexEdward? Realistically, I'd think that Natalie, Barbara, and Renee would have a threesome before they would, but you'll be happy to know that there'll be a little OswaldxNataliexEdward coming soon

Langley21: Lol, it's cool that you recognized the character, although you'll notice I definitely changed Marsha in contrast to her '66 incarnation. Archer and Bookworm are also notable '66 villains you might recognize

Thanks :)