Humiliation and Triumph

The fiasco at the toy store ended with Fidget succeeding in spiriting away the girl, but he left behind a list of vital importance, leading me to the Rat Trap later that evening. Dawson accompanied me, but it was painfully obvious that he had never before spent an evening in disguise. He acted most uncomfortable in his striped shirt and eye patch.

Less than two minutes after we entered the pub, I realized I had made a mistake inviting Dawson to join me. After years of visiting bars to gain information and plan the liberation of anyone working for Ratigan by force rather than choice, I knew how to make myself appear to be no different than the other customers. Dawson obviously had no experience in the matter. Every motion and gesture made him look utterly gauche.

"What's your pleasure, mates?" a barmaid asked.

"I'll have a dry sherry with…oh, perhaps a twist of…"

I quickly placed a hand over Dawson's mouth before he could say anything to ruin our cover.

I used the latest accent I had been practicing. "Two pints for me and my shipmate. Oh, by the way, we just got into port. We're looking for an old friend of mine."

The last statement held more than a trace of veracity. I was indeed looking for Ratigan, and he truly had been a friend once.

"Maybe you know him," I continued. "Goes by the name of Ratigan."

From they way everyone gasped, I could tell they knew him. They feared him; thus anyone trying to find Ratigan was cause for suspicion. If I were Ratigan's spy, they wished to dispose of me before I reported information that could end their lives. On the other hand, if I were an investigator, Ratigan would be incensed to know I had taken the liberty of visiting his favorite pub. Either way, I was a threat. Their reaction had told me as much, assuring me that I had chosen the ideal location to begin searching for my adversary.

"I never heard of him," the barmaid replied.

As the next act began on stage, I observed the bartender pouring a sort of mixture into our drinks. He had no doubt had years of practice drugging unwelcome visitors. I wondered what happened to those foolish enough to drink the tampered liquor. I suspected they were easily captured and brought before a certain sewer rat. Those he didn't trust would then promptly hear the ringing of a small bell.

When the barmaid brought our drinks, I cautiously touched a drop of beer to my tongue. These drinks most certainly had been drugged, but I was too late to warn Dawson. While I silently cursed his idiocy, he danced on stage with showgirls. As if humiliating me by blowing my undercover investigation weren't bad enough, he was indirectly responsible for starting a bar fight.

I thought I saw a slight smirk on Fidget's fiendish face as he swallowed the last of his Rodent's Delight. After reviving my companion, I followed the bat to Ratigan's lair, greatly frustrated at Dawson's incompetence to navigate through pipes. I wondered how anyone so dense ever graduated from medical school.

Despite the many hindrances of the evening, we finally arrived at our destination. Ratigan frequently changed the location of his lair; consequently, in my entire career, I had only discovered one of his hiding places, which he immediately ceased to use upon being informed of my detection. I had never imagined I would be so fortunate as to discover another lair, but it was right in front of my eyes. When Ratigan noticed I had managed to find where he was lurking about, he immediately surrendered.

"Alas! You're just too smart for me, Basil!" he cried. "Your mind is superior! I may as well come quietly, for I know now you will stop at nothing!"

He followed me to the police station, where he was promptly incarcerated, and I never had any trouble from him again.