Chapter 69

Somewhere far from the Van Dahl mansion, a phone began to ring. Its shrill cry was ignored for exactly two seconds before concentration was lost...and so was comprehension. After all, only one person had the number to that telephone.

The third ring was interrupted.

"Are you checking up on me?" Edward Nygma asked, befuddlement leaking into the phone's speaker.

"What?" Oswald frowned. "No." He looked around, ensuring that Ruby was not in the nearby area. "Barbara Kean was just here. She's looking for them."

"So?" Edward asked, his tone as blank as a clean sheet.

"So," Oswald echoed with a hint of irritation, "are you finished yet?"

"We've talked about this." Edward chided. "I need to work through my grief, my way."

"Of course, and I support you." Oswald replied. "Any chance you could work through it a smidge faster? I am swamped today."

Clunk!

The receiver was slammed back into place. Oswald stared at the phone, distraught, while Edward turned back to his two guests. Smirking. "Sorry you had to hear that. He can be so self-centered." Placing his hands on his hips, he asked, "What were we talking about?" Bound to two chairs in front of him were nobody else but Butch Gilzean and Tabitha Galavan, both gagged by his newfound tools. Both of them were sweating and disheveled from the ordeal. Well, one should say the 'prologue' of the ordeal. The real action had yet to come. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, indeed.

Butch yelled something at Edward from behind his gag. Edward raised his arms. "Oh! Right, how I found you!" Laughing, he pushed a heavy cart closer towards them. As he did, he coughed at the additional intake of stale air. This place truly was miserable. A forgotten little attic, probably at one point a blacksmith's place, that was now occupied by rusting weapons and dust bunnies. The windows were so thick with grime that there had been no need to add curtains to the already desolate decor.

His new toys were the best thing about the chamber. Well, at least until blood started to flow.

"Well, it wasn't hard." Edward finally reached his destination. He took a moment to stroke the trolley's contents: heavy electric generators, each one powerful enough to keep an apartment lit for days. "The next time you want to disappear, considering taking sabbatical from your favorite restaurant. Your love for Italian food isn't exactly a state secret." He placed a metal ring, its wires leading back to the generators, onto Butch's shaved scalp. "That, and a healthy dose of midazolam to knock you out, a hundred bucks to your delivery boy, who, by the way," Edward leaned forward like a bartender, "I get the feeling been being tipped very well, Butch."

Butch said something, but once again the gag made his words impossible to understand.

Smirking, Edward stepped out from behind the trolley and put his ear in the vicinity of the big man's muffled words. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He un-gagged Butch, who hissed, "You're gonna regret this." His voice deepened with rage. "You touch one hair on her head, I'll kill you."

"Save your strength, big guy." Edward patted the other man's stubbly cheek in an almost affectionate manner. "You're gonna need it." He rose, examining the wires and the generators. Ensuring that everything was ready. Butch, blinded by his anger, spat out, "You tell Penguin he's a coward! If he wants me dead, he should come here and do it like a man!"

All was ready, just as Edward had sensed. Feeling as calm and prepared as a composer about to lead the orchestra into musical ecstasy, he glided his way back to Butch. Pointed at him like a king weeding out a traitor. "This has...nothing to do with Penguin." He leaned towards Butch. Glared down at him. "And you are the coward, killing an innocent woman."

"What?" Butch asked, brow furrowing. "Who?"

His dumb insolence only blackened Edward's rage. Speaking in low growls, the Chief of Staff answered. "Isabella. She was my everything and you took her from me!"

Butch shook his head helplessly. "What in the hell are you talkin' about?"

Edward straightened, his brown eyes never leaving Butch's doughy face. A mad smirk tickled his pink lips. "I was hoping you'd be difficult." He looked down at the gangster like he was a Christmas present that Edward couldn't wait to tear open.

He pushed a button.

Golden sparks flew. Butch screamed. Edward laughed.

The open-air market.

While some may view it as little more than a gypsy's hovel, where cheap, worthless items are sold at absurd prices, those who actually bothered to go knew that there were plenty of valuables lurking beneath the layers of junk. Under a rusty, dull-edged bear's trap was a small eagle cut from jade. Just behind the ugly copper frying pans were African necklaces and bracelets of colored beads and yellowed fangs. Overlooking the cracked ceramic salad bowls were lamps made from hollowed-out chunks of soap. Beauty was everywhere; it just wasn't always evident.

Ruby knew that as well as anyone. She had been a regular visitor for years, ever since the Master had first asked her to tag along. That day, she remembered, he'd bought a rare peregrine falcon (yes, at times even living creatures could be found here) that he'd then given to an animal shelter. Since that fateful occasion, Ruby had come by whenever it took her fancy.

Today was one such day. She certainly needed cheering up, and maybe buying a new trinket would provide.

Dressed in one of Oswald's midnight-blue overcoats (he had so many of them, and all of hers had been in the washing machine), Ruby drifted through the market like a ghost. She bought a small bag of dried strawberries from one stand. They were small, reddish-pink gummies that would have put any candy to shame. As she popped them into her mouth, one by one, Ruby sailed by the second-hand books. One book cost a nickel; two were a quarter. She ended up walking away with three: The Girl in the Red Coat, His Bloody Project, and The Heart is a Lonely Hunter. She could definitely agree with the final novel's title.

Already feeling slightly elevated, Ruby sought out one final item. An object guaranteed to grant her joy. Too bad that the stands selling them were so few.

At last, a table laid out with carefully-labelled gems caught Ruby's attention. She quickly positioned herself before it, eyeing the jewels hungrily. The man behind the stand paid her no heed, never looking up from the newspaper in his hands. That suited Ruby just fine. She could never make a calculated selection if someone was watching her, silently begging her to buy the most expensive item.

Ruby's hope dwindled, however, when she realized that she'd already collected members of most of these gem types. She was about to take wing when one gem caught her eye. It was small, no larger than a shard of glass, yet what it lacked in size it made up for in brilliance. Ruby picked up the little box in which the stone was being held. Written along the inside, carefully avoiding the stone, was the word 'Ammolite'. For a moment, Ruby didn't recognize it. Then, a memory clicked into place. She grinned. Admired the scaly surface, the divine sheen of red and green. Thin veins of yellow linked the colors together. Mesmerizing. Ruby was so entranced by the gem that she didn't notice the stand's owner finally giving her some attention.

"That there's the Ammolite." He said in a dry, raspy voice. "It's-"

"-Actually formed from a fossilized sea creature." Ruby finished without even looking up. Taking the piece between her forefinger and thumb, she held the stone up to the pale light. "It's believed that these fossils were formed 65 million years ago, and they're common in Canada. Most Ammolite will be found as a cabochon with a very flat top because of the raw material. The patterns are formed on the seams and lobes on the surface, which diffracts the light and creates rainbow colors." Ruby brought the piece closer to her eye, before nodding and turning back to the man. "It's real. Not bad. I've heard these pieces can be worth anything from ten to a thousand dollars."

The man simply stared at her, stunned. Ruby, in turn, eyed him. He was in his early fifties, she guessed, with a few wispy strands of hair combed over his balding scalp. His jaw wasn't having better luck at cultivating hair: his beard grew in cottony patches, with hairless spots in between. But other than that, she supposed, he wasn't bad looking. The man had a comely face and a strong build, evidently from years of digging up pieces of valuable stones. His skin was the color of milky coffee, and his eyes were a gentle blue. He wore a dirty, checkered shirt and ripped jeans. Indeed, this did not look like a man from the city.

He cleared his throat. "Uh, sorry, I didn't realize I was dealing with a fellow geologist."

Ruby held her hands up. "I'm actually not." She dropped them. "I'm actually the first deputy mayor. Ruby Sinclair."

"Oh, nice." He acted as though she'd just told him that she owned a pawn shop two streets away. Ruby decided that she liked his reaction. The man held his hand out. "Name's Horace." Ruby shook his hand. It was as coarse and rough as sand. Horace continued. "My, uh, my brother owns a geology shop. That's where a lot of these pieces come from."

Ruby nodded. "Yeah, they look well-kept." After a moment, she held up the box containing the Ammolite specimen. "How much does this cost?"

"Well, that's a small piece," Horace answered, "so we're pitching it at twelve bucks."

"Sounds legit." She reached into her wallet and extracted the dollar bills. As she handed them to Horace, who in turn gave her the box's lid, he spoke again. "Say, uh..."

Ruby eyed him as she pocketed the box.

"Does, er, your job require lots of time?"

Ruby quirked a brow at the question, then decided that - for now - there was no harm in asking. "Somewhat. Why?"

"Ah," Horace's brawny shoulders slumped. "That's a shame. See, the shop's been fallin' on rough times lately. People, they ain't interested in buyin' gems unless they're all strung up, ready to be worn. Or shiny. We don't sell neither of these things. So, we don't get that much action. My brother asks me to come out here every few days, just to help pay the bills. And that snot-nosed son of his..." Horace shook his head in disgust. "A no-good slacker, if I ever saw one. He's your age...how old are you, miss? Twenty-seven?"

"And a half." Ruby nodded.

"Yeah, that. And he ain't got no car, no job other than to watch the store, no house of his own, and no college degree. He ain't got no interest in stones, and so he sucks at getting the customers interested. Honestly..." Horace's eyes widened. He waved a hand. "Sorry, I just started blabbing...guess all I wanted to say is if you need a job," his hand appeared before her, a card perched between his dusty fingers, "we could use the help."

Ruby carefully accepted the card. Reading its contents. Finally, she gave a small smile as she pocketed it. "Okay, thanks."

Edward cackled as static flew from Butch's metallic crown. Drool ran down the large man's chin, his eyes rolling back. Tabitha grunted, struggled against her bonds, as the scent of burnt meat filled the room. Edward finally let go of the button, not wanting to invite death before he got his answers. Panting, Butch looked up at him with feverish eyes. "How many times...do I have to tell you? I've never...even heard of this woman."

With one last quick shock sent Butch's way, Edward lowered his arm. Strutting towards Tabitha, he said, "Well, then I guess I've have to direct my attention elsewhere."

Tabitha glared at him.

"No. No!" Butch shook his head drowsily. "Leave her outta this."

"I'm afraid I can't do that." Edward replied, sounding almost genuinely sorry about it. "She is an integral part of your penance." Suddenly lightening his tone, he exclaimed, "It was such a pleasant surprise when I discovered that the two of you were together!" He laughed in a way that may have been good-natured, had his surroundings been different. "You know, after the initial gag reflex."

Butch glowered. His anger granted him courage. Speaking in a stronger voice than he had since arriving, he stated, "You know, I bet this gal doesn't even exist. I mean, come on. Who would fall in love with a freakshow like you?" He spat the word out as though it were poisonous.

Edward's expression was unreadable. He was silent.

"Oh, wait!" Butch laughed. "Let me guess! I bet she's got a certificate too, huh?"

His answer was a skull full of electricity.

Tabitha said something almost comprehensible through the gag. Edward release his hold on the button - for the moment - before freeing the woman of her burden. Glaring at him, she demanded, "Tell me what you want."

When was the last time someone had asked him that? Edward shrugged off his thoughts and answered. "I want to break Butch's heart before I end his life. You know, kind of an 'eye for an eye' thing. But in this case..." His lips broke into a wide smile. "I'll take a hand."

A light rainfall forced Ruby to take temporary refuge in a coffee shop. Aside from a few odd looks from those who remembered her from the video, it was a relatively peaceful time. The first deputy mayor combed through His Bloody Project, her reading interrupted only by the occasional sip of cinnamon-orange tea. When at last the drops stopped falling, she paid for her drink, gathered the day's acquisitions, and headed out. The air smelled cleaner than usual, cleansed of the usual smog and fumes. It wouldn't last.

Ruby had taken a single step beyond the door when a body rammed into hers full-force. The impact sent Ruby stumbling, splashing her sneakers in a nearby oily puddle. Growling, she spun around and was about to yell...when a halo of blonde hair caught her eye. Ruby's mouth went dry. "Barbara?"

The woman, still draped in a black fur coat, looked disoriented for a second. A map was crumpled in her gloved fist. When she saw Ruby, her jaw set. Before Ruby could react, Barbara seized a fistful of her gray sweater. Yanked forward until their noses were almost touching. Up close, Ruby could see that Barbara was wearing foundation. "Where's my friend?!" Barbara demanded. "What did you do to her?!"

Ruby groaned. "This again? I don't know!"

"Bullshit!" Barbara spat in her face. "Your maid Olga told me Nygma bought stuff at Stocks and Bondage. I went there, and all that stuff was sent to a warehouse!" She shook Ruby like a doll. "If she's hurt, I swear-"

Suddenly she wasn't holding a cashmere sweater but sticky, eerily warm clay. Gasping, she watched Ruby's form melt before her eyes. The clay slid away from her fingers, instead sliding over her shoulders. At a moment's notice, the roles of victim and assaulter had reversed. Arms wrapped tightly around Barbara's throat, lifting her off the ground. A cold voice chilled her ear. "First off," Ruby growled, "you'd better calm down. I get that you're worried, but tackling me won't help. Second, no, I haven't seen her. I have no idea where Tabitha is. I'll admit, that Edward told us he wanted vengeance for his murdered girlfriend-"

"I knew it!" Barbara tried to struggle, but it was like attempting to free herself from heavy chains.

"But he didn't tell me that he'd actually carried it out." Ruby added. "From what I'd been told, the plan wouldn't go about for weeks."

"So you were just gonna let him kill Butch? Is that it?" Barbara laughed. "Even for a girl like me, that's cold! And here I thought you two were friends."

A stab of guilt passed through Ruby's heart. "Well, yeah. But he killed Ed's girlfriend. He needs to pay for that, as sorry as I am to say it."

Barbara shook her head. Impressive, considering Ruby was keeping an iron grip on her curly hair. "You've got it all wrong. Butch hasn't killed women in a long time. Whatever Ed says Butch did, he's wrong."

Ruby stopped. Was motionless for a moment. Doubt pricked her like a thorn. For the first time, she considered the idea that someone else had orchestrated Isabella's death. But who? And why? Why kill someone who shelves and cares for books?

She knew.

Ruby closed her eyes. But that didn't make the truth less visible. She'd always known. She had just hoped that her fears would be proved unfounded.

She sighed. Released Barbara. "Come on. Let's go."

Barbara stared at Ruby like she was a painting whose type she couldn't quite place. "What?"

Ruby jerked her weak chin at the sidewalk. "Lead the way."