Chapter 29

The Batman seeks Gordon's cooperation for his plan

Bruce has to face emotion at the office and a task he doesn't want to do

He considers his relationship with Georgia and turns down a dinner invitation

The Batman visits the Iceberg Lounge

Thursday, midday or just before

It was never the Batman's choice to seek Jim Gordon out in daylight hours, but needs must when the devil drove, and he felt things needed to be set up quickly. Entering police headquarters during the day required him to run the gauntlet of the hostile stares and occasional pointed comments, just loud enough for him to hear.

Gordon was in a meeting, so the Batman had to wait, left kicking his heels in the corridor outside Gordon's office. After a while, when he was fairly sure no-one was paying attention, he entered. Idly he flicked through the paperwork on Gordon's desk.

'Christ, do you have no boundaries?' Gordon complained when he came in. 'That's confidential police information you're looking at.'

The Batman shrugged. 'No help, though.'

'No. It's all budgets and deployments and manpower figures, and all of that interesting stuff I have to deal with. I rarely deal with crime incidents. If you want that, go hang round the Major Crimes office.' He walked round and sat at his desk. 'On second thoughts, don't.' He parked the files he was carrying and pulled a notepad towards him. 'It must be serious if you have to show up in daylight. What's on your mind?'

'Need you to order a load of venues to allow a video-maker to add some frames to their video displays.'

'Got a reason for that?'

The Batman explained about the subliminal images and how they worked in conjunction with the neural seeds. Gordon leaned back in his chair.

'We don't really know where this is going, do we?' he asked. 'What it's all leading to, I mean.'

'Could be an attack on Wayne BioTech. Could be an attack on the Iceberg Lounge. Apparently she's got hold of about three or four million dollars through the stock market chaos, but I don't think that's the end of it.'

'So what will these extra frames do?'

'Hopefully counter-act whatever she has conditioned people to do. She's sending out messages via smartphones.'

'Is she?'

'You haven't found her yet?'

'No. Have you?'

'I'm not looking. Just need to mention, these extra frames – they will be subliminal, so therefore illegal.'

Gordon whistled silently. 'You don't want much, do you?'

'Indemnity for the video-maker.'

'And me to force these venues to allow it to happen.' He sighed. 'I will probably have to get this past the mayor, and that is not likely to happen, I have to warn you. Especially as you can't tell me what we are going to prevent by this.'

The Batman shrugged.

'I have to obey the law, even if you don't,' Gordon said. He shook his head. 'I could lose my job for this.'

'Or you could lose it because you didn't do it and the city goes up in flames.'

'Fiddling while Gotham burns. You got a nice way with images. Send me the list of venues, then leave it with me. I'll message you when I've made a decision.'

'Don't leave it too long. The next Blades game is on Saturday.'

Waiting for Gordon's answer, his burner in his pocket, Bruce felt he had to show up in the office, face the outpouring of grief over Rachel's death.

'Make sure you've got tissues on your desk,' Lucius advised. 'Christa has sent flowers on behalf of the Foundation, so don't act dumb if someone mentions them.'

'Do I have to go to the funeral?'

'You're her ultimate boss, the head of the division. Of course you do.'

'Do I have to deliver the eulogy?'

'A eulogy, definitely. On behalf of the Foundation.'

'I won't know what to say.'

'You don't have to make it up on the spot. We'll write it. But you will have to speak to her colleagues, get a sense of what they want you to say. You'll be speaking for them.'

Bruce wanted to say, I can't. I can't do this.

'You have to,' Lucius said gently, as if he could read his thoughts. 'This is part of it – part of management. Goes with the territory, I'm afraid.'

Part of growing up, he might have said.

One step at a time, which had been Alfred's advice after his parents' deaths. Break it down into steps, and deal with one at a time. The first step was the office: having to offer condolences to Rachel's colleagues, let the older women hug him, as if it was his loss, let Amy sob in his office. He didn't know what to say to console her, but that didn't seem to be what she wanted. He leant forward, arms on his desk, as if he were paying attention to her. He wasn't sure if he should go round and sit beside her, maybe put his arms round her, but decided against that. It would send both her and everyone outside the wrong message. He would have given a lot for someone from HR to come in and scoop Amy up and away. Not that he wasn't sympathetic – of course he was – but he didn't know how to deal with the grief of an almost perfect stranger.

Eventually, when she had subsided into the occasional sob and hiccup, he was able to ask her if she could do him an enormous favour, and chat to the others about what they might want him to say about Rachel at the funeral, if the family wanted him to speak. The second step. She nodded agreement and after a couple of minutes had pulled herself together enough to go back to her desk. He sighed in relief. If she didn't do a minute's work today, he wouldn't complain.

Gordon's answer came through late afternoon, and Bruce was able to give Kai Arcane the go-ahead, definitely for the Blades stadium. The shopping malls and the squares were taking a little longer. Gordon gave no indication of whether he had spoken to the mayor, or whether he was using his public order powers to get agreement.

It seemed a long time ago that he had left Georgia in his bed. That thought warmed his heart: the memory of her, tousled and sleepy, trailing her fingers down his arm as he leant in to say goodbye. Maybe it was just sex between them, but only time would resolve that one. He couldn't complain. He had never had so much or such enjoyable sex at any time in his life.

She was working the day shift, but didn't need to get up quite as early as he had. She wouldn't be finished till mid-evening. Would he have time to take her to dinner before heading out to the Iceberg Lounge? If he did, would she want to have that conversation? He needed to explain to her, get her to understand, why the Batman had attacked Matty on Saturday.

Just thinking about that conversation made him feel ill. They needed to find a way to make it all work, but he couldn't, just couldn't, let her across the boundaries. She had to appreciate the difference between him and the Batman. That there had to be complete separation, except maybe for Alfred, who moved smoothly and seamlessly between the two worlds. Lucius knew, but dealt only with Bruce. This was maybe a task for Emma. Could he ask Emma to explain it all to Georgia? Emma got it, never questioned it and negotiated it, quite skilfully. But Emma was not really a friend of his. She was a friend of the Bat; of Nemesis. Even that simple idea was fraught with complication.

So maybe not dinner. Maybe he should let Georgia have time to reflect on last night, and decide what she really wanted. There was always the risk that she would ask him to give up the Batman – that that would be the price of being with her. And what he would do then, he had no idea.

He was still overwhelmed by the events of the previous evening, the fact that she had come back to him, which was more than he could have hoped for when she turned up at his door. That she had missed him. There had been the violent expression of her anger and frustration, but it hadn't taken much time for that to turn into longing. Longing by both of them to get back to what they had had on the Saturday afternoon – the comfortable togetherness.

And the affection. He didn't like to admit to himself how fond he was of her, after so short a time. It frightened him. It frightened him that after the break-up, he had felt so devastated and like a part of him was missing. And the feeling of – of relief, of – of – was it joy? – that had filled him when she lay in his arms again last night.

She had found her way into his heart, when he had been so determined not to let anyone in, to get close enough to hurt him. He hadn't intended it to happen. When he had picked her up outside the Grand and taken her for a drink, a relationship was the last thing on his mind. His conscious mind, anyway. Maybe his sub-conscious had been making other plans.

He sent her a message:

Hey

She replied:

Hey yourself

Just that by itself made him smile.

How's work?

Busy. How's yours?

Busy. Not pleasant. Colleague has died

Sorry to hear that. That's tough

She had added a lipstick kiss emoji to the end of her message. Then:

My roommate is away tonight. I could cook dinner for us

That was tempting but he knew that if he went to hers, he wouldn't leave to go to the Iceberg Lounge. And hers was the ideal place for that heart-to-heart.

Very sorry. Will have to take a rain check

Have you changed your mind already? (winking emoji)

Absolutely not. Have you?

But he knew the answer, since she had invited him to dinner.

No (red heart emoji)

This was getting tricky. A few moments of internet searching suggested he should send a red heart emoji back, so he did.

Then he turned his cell screen down on to the desk and got back to preparing for his meeting that night with Oswald Cobblepot. He was not expecting it to be as easy as the previous one.

Late that night

The Iceberg Lounge

It was easier to get admittance to the Iceberg this time round, although Oswald Cobblepot did not look pleased to see him.

'You again?' he said irritably. 'I sorted her, didn't I? As per our agreement.'

'Not sure you did,' the Batman said.

'What do you mean? The gym is trashed. She can't operate.'

'But she is. You lied to me. You said you didn't know her.'

'I don't.'

'But you're bank-rolling her.'

'Doesn't mean I know her. I don't actually do the day-to-day.'

'So how are you going to get your investment back?'

'Partly through the insurance. Pay-out for the damage. And partly – my boys will persuade her to pony up our agreed share.'

'You know where she is?'

'I don't need to. She'll find me.'

The Batman thought about that. What would force Edith Crowne to get in touch with Cobblepot? Of course – threats to her daughter and granddaughter in prison. He would need to get word to Gordon on that.

'You got anything else you wanna say?' Cobblepot asked. 'I'm a busy man. Time is money, sweetheart.'

Sweetheart. My sweet. The words set his teeth on edge. Maybe the Penguin and the Crowne woman were birds of a feather after all (if you could describe a penguin like that).

He explained what he wanted: access for a video-maker to the reels the Lounge used for its dance floors and entertainment areas, so the video-maker could add some frames.

'And what are these frames gonna do?' Cobblepot asked.

'Hopefully keep things calm, disrupt whatever she's planning.'

'Which is what?'

'No idea.'

Cobblepot rolled his eyes.

'Any of your staff belong to the Pleasure Principle?'

'Didn't I say? I don't pay them enough for that.'

'She needs them. She would have given discounts.'

'Why'd you need to know?'

'She's sending out smartphone messages. If I can see one, maybe I can work out what she has planned.'

Cobblepot gestured to one of his heavies and instructed him to return with a cell phone from a member of the Pleasure Principle gym.

'They always know, even if I don't.'

While they waited, Cobblepot returned to his papers. The Batman sidled closer to the window, to check what, if anything, was occurring outside. Cobblepot's head came up sharply, but his attention moved back to the task in hand when the Batman remained still.

After twenty minutes or so, the heavy returned clutching a cell, which he handed to the Batman. Removing a gauntlet, the Batman scrolled through until he found the video, and played it.

'Thanks,' he said, handing back the cell.

'Is that it?' Cobblepot asked.

'Yep.'

'So after all that, you can't tell me nothin'?'

'I'll let you know if I get any useful information. But just be on your guard on Saturday.'

'Saturday? Why?'

'Next Blades home game.'

'Oh yeah. It's the Kings, ain't it? Think things're gonna kick off?'

'Not for sure. Just warning you.'

'And that's my problem because . . .?'

The Batman shrugged. 'Just – be prepared.'

'What, like some sort of boy scout, or something?'

'And don't forget to let my guy in. Sometime Friday.'

Back in the basement, having parked the bike, Bruce removed the cowl. He was almost too tired to view the contact lens footage from the Iceberg Lounge. It would be tempting to change and bike over to Georgia's, even though he would be waking her at an ungodly hour. But he knew if he went upstairs to change, he wouldn't come back down – either to leave, or to watch the footage. And the footage was more important. And once he had viewed it, he could sleep.

The footage from the smartphone was interesting. The hidden images were of spirits being set alight along a bar, and of burning buildings. So she wanted to burn down the Iceberg Lounge. Fire and ice. How Kai would counteract that, he had no idea. But he sent the file, informed Kai he had permission to go into the Iceberg Lounge that Friday, and closed down his system.

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Posting for the next two weeks will be on Tuesdays and Fridays, then it will return to three times a week. The adjustment to the schedule will allow the last chapter (42 or 43, depending how you are counting) to be posted on a Friday.

If you are enjoying the story, or have a question, please feel free to leave a review or message me! It would be great to hear from you.