Thank you for reviewing FuchsiaGrasshopper, Persephoniii, and MugglebornPrincesa!
I'm introducing a character named Charlie this chapter and I'm interested to know what you think? I was going to use him for a really short time, but now I like him...
Before Maroni there were other matters to deal with. Like leashing the Burrow Boys. They had been promised Maroni but the Boys couldn't be trusted with such delicate matters yet. And so they would begin with small but useful victories.
Grady had adopted Oswald's system of organizing information using photos, maps, newspaper clippings. She admitted that it was possibly the most organized thing she had ever done. "Like this," Oswald told her as he tacked up the materials on the living room ceiling. "I think better like this..." He should have known better than to feel embarrassed as he lay on the floor to stare up at his work. Grady flopped down next to him and said: "When I get stuck, I think best upside down."
"How does that work?"
"I sit on the couch except with my feet on the top and my head hanging over the floor."
"That's an excellent way to get a headache..." his eyes traced the photos, the notes he had taken.
Grady crossed her arms and tilted her head as though trying to simulate the upside down experience. She was very fidgety which was a distraction, tapping the tips of her toes together. Their eyes followed different paths but eventually came to rest at the same place.
"This Charlie person..." he began.
"Bonnie Mr. Charlie," Grady nodded up at the ceiling.
"He's crossed the Burrow Boys again and again...what can you tell me about him?"
"Charlie broke off from the Burrow about eight years ago. Never fit in. The boys harassed him endlessly and so he looked to get revenge. Show them who's boss. Can't blame him really...but the Boys want him dead. If there's one thing they hate more than a soft, nervous, scrawny boy, it's one that comes back to bite them. Charlie's been real rattled over the years...you could easily take him apart. He's not so different from you actually..."
Oswald glanced at her, but Grady was staring up at Charlie's picture. His eyes followed her's and he waited for her to explain. The young man in the picture was certainly much smaller than most Burrow Boys, almost sickly looking with his pale skin and dark circles under large brown eyes. He had a well trimmed swoop of dusty color hair and a thoughtful, melancholy expression.
"I don't remember why he's Bonnie Mr. Charlie. Something stupid from school...We were friends..." Grady continued.
And Oswald turned his gaze back to her, the gears in his head turning.
"I didn't think he'd turn out how he did. I knew he'd leave the Burrow but...well I didn't think he'd become obsessed with it. Such a waste... he's brilliant, but between the bullies, his drunk Mum...it broke him. And the brilliance is wasted. He gives the Boys hell from time to time with his group, but he'll never go beyond that. And he was decent. Didn't talk rough like the others. Did well in school...noticed things...One day a bunch of boys found this cat out by the rubbish bins on the playground. Scrawny orange thing with a broken leg. The boys were throwing rocks at it and Charlie, even though he knew he'd pay for it, he told them to leave off or he'd get a teacher. So they beat him instead and forgot the cat. Charlie hid the cat with the janitor and took him home in the end. I invented this little brace thing to help the cat walk better. So I don't know. A guy like that...I thought he was going places instead of a half crazed small time gang leader. I guess not growing up in Gotham."
"You couldn't help him?" Oswald asked.
"Stopped the beatings after a time. But you and I know there are many more ways to break a person than with your fists. Nah, I could only do so much. Threatened the ones with Burrow Boy fathers with the wrath of my Da, but at the time I wasn't an expert at stopping words, notes, stolen property, public humiliation. I knew machines...I knew how to defend myself in a fight. The rest I had yet to learn. Could have used you even back then," Grady finally took her eyes off the photos to look at Oswald.
"And you say he's like me?" he asked.
"A bit," Grady frowned. "He's well...always very polite. And more dangerous than he looks. And he'll surprise you sometimes. Like with the cat...I've got the feeling you weren't a picture of popularity in your youth either."
Oswald rolled his eyes back to the ceiling. "I can certainly relate to his predicament. We'll leave it there." His blue eyes flicked over the information, racing around the array of clippings. "Grady, if he's a friend...we can pick someone else..." His eyes cast around for likely candidates.
She gave a short laugh and linked and an arm through his. "You're alright," she said. "But the Boys won't value the destruction of anyone more than him. Short of a Maroni, Mooney, Falcone type which of course, isn't possible yet." She shook her head. "It's got to be him, I think..."
"So you'll sacrifice your friend?" he clarified. And would it be so easy for you? That was the silent question on his mind.
"I wouldn't call him a friend," Grady said. "Don't like many people, remember? I hardly know Charlie anymore..."
But the way Grady clung to his arm was not only pleasantly warm, it provided a clue. "This isn't as easy for you as you're telling me," Oswald said.
Grady sighed. "Alright. It's not so much friendship though...just feels like kicking that crippled cat from all those years before after what I watched him go through. But he's different now. Charlie has a mean bite. It's not the first difficult thing I've done and it won't be the last. It can't be helped."
"You must be sure. Your feelings can cause error and complicate matters. And I don't wish to hurt you," he added.
Grady smirked at him. "I can almost believe you."
"It wounds me how you doubt my sincerity," he teased. "I was being very serious. You've done many difficult things for our cause lately and I'm not convinced yet that this is necessary."
"It is, but I'm very sorry for it," she shook her head. "I just can't help but feel badly for him. Meet him and you might feel the same."
"Let's meet him then," Oswald said.
Grady lifted an eyebrow. "I wasn't serious. I've never seen you feel bad for anyone..."
He thought this was very unfair considering that he had murdered out of sympathy for Grady, but didn't mention it. "If we're to proceed I have to know more about him anyway. Do you sell to him?"
"I have, but it's been at least two years now. You're thinking a sales call to get a sense of his situation?"
"Exactly," Oswald nodded. "Can it be arranged or will he find it strange to see you on his doorstep? I admit you're about the strangest thing that ever knocked on my door."
"He'll be twice the host that you were," she huffed.
He ignored the jab. "It's settled then?"
"Yes, why not. It has to be just us though. Absolutely no Burrow Boys, of course."
"Just as well," Oswald sat up, no longer needing the map above. "I don't think they've warmed up to me."
"Takes time," Grady stretched. "You've been wearing that hat I gave you?"
"It's just a hat Grady."
"That's a no then," Grady pushed at Fionn who was sniffing at her face. "And the Boys have been calling you the Penguin. That's alright by you?"
"It was my request," he nodded darkly.
Grady gave Fionn a dubious shrug. "Maybe I should have a proper nickname. If I was an animal what sort would I be?"
"Something irritating I'm sure," Oswald said.
"Oh well aren't we funny," she scowled. "What animals use tools?"
"Monkeys," he said.
"Alright, that's enough from you."
"I think it's quite fitting."
Grady sighed.
Oswald had to at least approve of Bonnie Mr. Charlie on the basis of taste. He was located in a less reputable corner of Gotham, south of the Burrow. But his abode was on a more respectable street in one of the large brownstones hugging a small gated park. He followed Grady who hopped up the steps with confidence. The stairs were flanked by two fearsome stone lions with large manes that resembled Grady's hair. She scratched one on the head as she passed as if it were a real pet. Maybe that was Grady's animal. A lion.
"Wave to the camera," Grady indicated the base of a small flag pole bearing the Irish flag beside the door. "I installed it a few years ago..." She waggled her fingers at it and Oswald gave it the barest nod, feeling silly.
With gangs of this size, that is to say small, ineffective, with a tenuous grasp of their power, Oswald had come to expect to be greeted by very large thugs when he came to call. Instead, he was surprised to find a a well spoken elderly gentleman dressed like a valet at the door.
"May I help you?" the man asked.
"You can," Grady produced one of her business cards. "If Mr. Charlie Moran is in, he'll know me by Grady. And this is my associate, Mr. Cobblepot."
The valet took the card and gave it a slow, dignified look. "Very well," he said. "Please, come inside."
They waited in the foyer. Oswald jumped when they went inside as he found several taxidermy animals snarling down at him. He hoped Grady hadn't noticed, but her eyes danced with laughter.
"I told you," she whispered. "He's a bit mad."
The valet returned and beckoned them up stairs. "May I present you to Mr. Moran?"
This was where Bonnie Mr. Charlie had hidden the big men. A pair of them roamed the hallways, eyes straight ahead, arms swaying. Oswald watched out the corner of his eye. They went up the landing to the third floor while the valet led them on.
The valet stopped them at two oak paneled doors. "Miss O'Grady and Mr. Cobblepot sir," he announced.
"Brilliant. Show them in." The voice was pleasant and enthusiastic. Unlike Grady, he did not have an Irish accent but there was a trace of a lilt.
Grady led the way inside. "Hello, Charlie," she smiled.
"Grady," his smile was twice the size of her's. Charlie was in his shirt sleeves wearing a khaki vest, but he swept his jacket on as he rose. He looked much as he did in the photos, still small, still with somewhat grey beneath the eyes. His smile did not meet those eyes. They were cold, glittering, nervous. But they became more genuine perhaps when they rested on Grady.
"You look well as ever my old friend," he said as he captured her hand. She gave it a shake but he swept it up to brush a kiss against her knuckles.
"Surely there's no need to be formal as that," Grady said and she looked a little flustered. Oswald tried not to stare at her and instead turned his attention to the man who shook her hand. "But you're a lady in my eyes Grady, whether you wish it or not." He took Oswald's hand next. "Mr. Cobblepot, I don't believe I've had the pleasure."
"The pleasure is all mine, I assure you," Oswald replied. If Charlie was being truthful, he was certainly not a major player. Oswald did not mean to flatter himself, but his "death" and re appearance were a well known story in the underworld at this point.
"Please," Charlie gestured to the wingback chairs in front of his desk. "I take it you're here for business rather than pleasure?"
"Why can't it be both?" Grady winked and dropped one of her infamous red toolboxes on her desk.
"I'd love to see what you've been working on but I wasn't prepared to make any major purchases," Charlie admitted.
"Well, you don't have to pay in money," Grady gave him a side long look. "That's not changed."
"It's been awhile Grady, but I know you well enough not to trust you with my secrets," Charlie smiled and his eyes glittered in a way Oswald couldn't decipher.
"Well maybe I can tempt you. How about a demo? This one isn't for sale. Oswald, perhaps you can show the man your umbrella?" Grady said.
"Certainly," Oswald raised his umbrella and flicked the blade. He watched a guard behind Charlie shift his feet and Oswald hid the blade again. "The other alteration is a bit too risky...I would hate to damage any of the fine things in this room."
Charlie chuckled. "How perfectly Grady. That's quite nice. And may I ask what the other feature is?"
"Diversionary tactics we'll say," Grady answered for him. "We must let Oswald keep some of his arsenal a secret, yes?"
"I suppose so," Charlie tore his attention from Grady. "Mr. Cobblepot, you are far too well mannered to hail from the Burrow. How did you meet Grady?"
Oswald gave Grady the briefest glance but she seemed at ease. "I'm not from the Burrow, no. Grady came to me. She felt I had certain useful talents."
"You're a mechanic then?"
"Of a sort," Oswald said.
"I see..." Charlie looked curiously between the two of them.
"Smart lad and as you can tell, much better spoken than I am. It's good for business," Grady explained. "Charlie, I understand you're a might good shot these days. Perhaps you'll be interested in some of my pistols." She flipped open the box.
"I'm much more interested in you," Charlie said. "Can I convince you to leave the Burrow? I just acquired an old garage that would suit you and your work well. I've missed you. I hate to think of you surrounded by those idiots and working in that tomb of yours."
"I appreciate it, truly," Grady said, as sincere as Oswald had ever seen her. "But you know I can't do that. You on the other hand...I could give you much more help than some gadgets. I could double your money, widen your reach. But I can't give you the Burrow."
Oswald gripped his umbrella when he saw a twitch in Charlie's eye. Just beneath the polite exterior he could see a monster hiding.
"The Burrow destroyed your family Grady. Yet you insist on defending them," he said in a voice so soft it was frightening. Grady's expression became guarded but her posture remained relaxed.
"The Burrow didn't do it, mate. That was my Da's own fault."
"Your father may have been a very different man if he wasn't involved with Burrow idiot politics," Charlie pointed out.
Oswald tried to catch Grady's eye to warn her to keep a level head. "That's rich coming you from you, friend. You continue to fight them when I offer great incentive to walk away."
"You side with bullies Grady, as you always have. I will not work with you as long as you continue to live in that neighborhood and aid those thugs. In fact, I have to question why you're here today," he sat up in his chair, big eyes wide. Oswald found him interesting but as blinded by paranoia and old memories as Grady had said he was. A reasonable man that wished to rise would put aside old grudges at least long enough to hear what Grady had to offer.
"There are no sides but my side, Charlie. Otherwise why would I still sell to you. I have to look out for my interests, same as you do yours. And it is a shame those interests don't line up. But maybe we can work out some other business? I did just make this last week. Pistol concealed in a glove, but it only works at very close range. Have a look..."
"This bit has to be pressed against the target?" Charlie examined.
"Yes exactly."
"Clandestine for certain. I imagine this wouldn't make much noise?"
"Very little," Grady agreed.
Charlie seemed to have a grasp of mechanics that Oswald did not possess as they worked through several other devices. The longer he sat with little to contribute, the more out of place he would seem but Grady seemed to have Charlie's full attention. There were more useful things he could be doing. He interrupted to ask for a restroom and was pleased when Charlie directed him and didn't send a guard.
The hallway was silent. Almost too quiet. There were faint footsteps upstairs and car horns outside. He paused at a potted fern and pressed one of Grady's tiny mics into the soil. Then his instincts led him upstairs. He walked as quietly as he could with his limping leg. He heard voices around the corner of the hallway and a shadowy room that housed some chairs and a pool table beckoned him into hiding. He slunk in and crossed the parlor to the closed door on the other side. With his ear pressed to the door he tried to make sense of the voices but heard nothing of interest in the words he could hear. He nudged the door open, just a bit. With eye to the bright slice of light in the hall, he could see two large doors with guards posted on either side. Another guard passed in front of them. He heard his footsteps turn at the end of hall and return. He was walking a circuit. Very curious. Oswald backed away from the door when a large mirror by the pool table caught his eye.
He performed a quick test as he often did out of habit. When he pressed his fingernail to the glass, it met and touched his reflection perfectly. No gap between images. A two way mirror. Curiouser still. It would be a bad idea to linger here. As much as he would have liked to know who or what was in the room on the other side, it was a risk he couldn't take.
Oswald returned to Charlie's office to find Grady packing her things and Charlie looking like he was in a much better mood than before.
"You continue to impress Grady. I am glad you stopped by. Are you sure you can't stay longer?"
"Afraid not. People to see and bills to pay. Oswald, there you are. Brilliant news, Charlie's given me a commission," she raised her brows and Oswald understood her significant look. A legitimate excuse to return to Charlie's home would make their task easier.
"That's very good news sir," Oswald smiled.
"It does pay to maintain old friendships. Especially with someone as talented as Grady," Charlie rose and walked them to the door. "Good to have met you Mr. Cobblepot. You will look out for Grady? As brilliant as she is, I know she can be reckless at times."
His irritation with Grady seemed to have completely passed, he was all smiles.
"I know it all too well," Oswald said. "Rest assured she is good hands."
Again Charlie passed a searching look over the pair of him. "I suppose that's good then. Grady, if you ever find yourself with free time... It would be nice to talk about something other than business."
"Aye, I'll keep it in mind. I think of you sometimes. Especially that cat." Grady smiled and Oswald felt pretty certain it was genuine.
"Ah yes," Charlie gave a short laugh. "The cat. I still keep one. He's around somewhere."
They looked at one another as though not sure what else to say, but still smiling. Oswald suddenly felt like his presence was an intrusion and found this very annoying.
"Grady I hate to rush a reunion with old friends, but your next appointment..."
"You're right of course," Grady said. "Charlie, I'll see you when the commission's finished."
They said their goodbyes and hurried for the door.
"That was very interesting," Oswald said once his driver retrieved them.
"I'm glad you got something out of it because the last thing I need right now is another commission...what's so interesting?" she asked.
"I found two weaknesses," Oswald announced. "The first is only a possibility. It's whatever he's hiding in the room upstairs. Do you have any idea what it could be? It's in a large room and requires the protection of several guards and a two way mirror."
Grady shrugged. "I haven't the faintest. How should I know?"
"Because the second weakness Grady, should be very obvious and I'm sure it went straight over your head."
Grady frowned. "I don't follow. You make it sound like you figured out what's in the room."
"No Grady. The second weakness is you." He watched her closely.
"Well that's ridiculous," she said, but her ears turned pink.
"It's obvious Grady. He may not trust you, but he wants to or he forgets to distrust you because he's busy admiring you."
"We were good friends once and he puts on a friendly face, that's all," Grady insisted.
"This would be very useful because you could easily trap him and dispose of him yourself," Oswald continued. "Except I believe you have a weakness too and I'm not convinced you'll go through with it."
"Bollocks," Grady shouted. "What on Earth led you to that conclusion?"
"The pink ears? The smile? Please Grady, I may not have known you as long, but I do know when you're acting out of the norm," Oswald grumbled.
Grady was about to make a snappy remark but paused midway. "Ooooh. I see."
"What?" he asked irritably.
"Look, I was fond of Charlie once. And it's odd to see him again and he can be charming if he wants to be. But he's nothing in the scheme of things. We need him gone to please the Burrow Boys, so I'll do what I must. That's it."
Oswald watched her critically. Grady believed right now that she could do the job, but he wasn't so sure she could follow though when the opportunity rose. She had softs spots, some sense of loyalty, some heart. Not much, but some.
"What are you thinking?" she asked.
"I'm thinking that in this instance, I may know you better than you know yourself," he told her.
Grady rolled her eyes. "Well done flattering yourself."
He scowled out the window beyond her.
"Stop fussing," Grady gave his knee a light smack. "You're still my favorite."
This kept him quiet for the rest of the drive as he was deep in thought.
